A Royal Wager: Persuading the Playboy King / Unmasking the Maverick Prince / Daring the Dynamic Sheikh

Kate only got as far as the door when Marc slammed his palm against the facing, preventing her from opening it. “I need you to understand, Kate.”

She turned and saw a pain in his eyes that stole her breath. “I do understand, Marc, more than you give me credit for. I just can’t stand the thought of you throwing in the towel. You can’t back down now, not when you have so much to lose.”

“Right now, I would gladly walk away, but you’re right. I owe it to my country to fight. I owe it to Philippe’s memory.”

“You owe it to yourself, Marc. This is only a temporary situation. We’ll get through it together. We’re both strong enough, and we’re a good team.”

He touched her face with tenderness. “I don’t know what I have done right in this lifetime to have you on my side, especially after the way I’ve treated you of late. And I am sorry for that.”

“I know. I also know you’re a good man with a huge burden to bear. And you’ll be a good father to Cecile. She needs you, too, even if she’s not your child.”

“And I need you. More than you realize.”

Kate waited to experience the suffocation, the resentment of someone needing her. It didn’t come.

She doubted Marc was inclined to ask for help very often—partly from pride and partly from trying to prove he could go it alone. The admission seemed to be costing him a lot, evident in the uneasiness in his expression. And if she could help him, she would. She loved him that much.

“I’m here for you, Marc.” At least for now. “But you have to let down your guard and let me in.”

He tipped his forehead against hers. “You’re the only sanity in my life, Kate, and I want you so badly at times it hurts. That’s why I’ve avoided you, knowing that every time I look at you…touch you…every time…”

He kissed her then—a passionate kiss that exposed his desperation, his need, causing the carpeted floor to sway beneath Kate’s feet. Without breaking the kiss, Marc spun her around and guided her back until she felt the desk nudge her bottom. He pressed against her, letting Kate know exactly how much he needed her, setting her senses on maximum alert and sending her pulse on a sprint. He slid his hands over her body, from shoulders to hips and then back up to fondle her breasts through her beige silk blouse.

He undid her slacks and slipped his hand inside, touching her as if starved for the intimate contact. He made her body weep with every caress of his fingertips, made her give everything over to the sensations he evoked so masterfully. Kate trembled from the onslaught of feelings, from the love she’d kept hidden from him and probably always would.

Before the climax completely took hold, Marc took his hand away yet kept his mouth mated firmly with hers. She didn’t have to ask what he was doing when she heard the metallic sound of his belt buckle release and the track of his zipper.

They shouldn’t do this, Kate thought. Not here, not now, not without…

Marc pushed her slacks and underwear to her thighs then pushed into her with a hard thrust. Her body responded with an all-consuming climax that nearly brought her to her knees, saved only by Marc’s hold on her. Her mind now trapped in a carnal web, Kate could no longer think coherently as Marc set a frantic rhythm, his hands molded to her bottom, pulling her closer, moving in deeper and deeper.

He finally ended the kiss and brought his lip to her ear, whispering something in French…a low, deep declaration that set her imagination on fire.

His respiration increased and his heart pounded against her chest. With one last thrust, his frame went rigid in her arms and he shook with the explosive force of his own climax.

She kissed his face, stroked his hair, held him close as their breathing returned to normal. But the return of awareness of what had happened—and what they hadn’t done—hit Kate with the force of an earthquake. She’d wanted to absorb his pain, escape their problems and make more memories—only to disregard the one thing that had been necessary to prevent creating more havoc in both their lives.

She knew the moment reality hit Marc when he muttered a harsh curse in English, one she had no trouble understanding. He braced his hands on the table on either side of her and kept his eyes lowered. “We didn’t—”

“I know.”

“Can you—”

“Get pregnant?” she finished for him. “Yes.”

“Bloody hell.”

Kate had mistakenly envisioned Marc’s words of love, not words of regret, after the tender moments they’d shared before this uncontrolled act. How ridiculous of her to think such a thing. How stupid of her to be so careless. She was a doctor. She knew the possible consequences, but so did Marc.

His remorse became all too clear when he slipped from her body and turned his back on her. “I do not expect your forgiveness for my total disregard for caution,” he said as he redid his slacks.

She couldn’t disregard the emotional wall he had erected, his distant tone.

Kate adjusted her clothes with trembling hands, unable to shake the seriousness of the situation. She hoped an attempt at humor might defuse the situation. “Well, we can now add offices to our list of places to avoid, along with sofas and kitchens. Maybe if we just sleep together in a bed, we’ll be able to control ourselves.”

When he faced her again, Marc’s stony expression told Kate her efforts hadn’t worked. “It doesn’t matter where we are, Kate. The only way we’ll avoid losing control is by avoiding each other. I can only assure you that I’ve never been this irresponsible. Never. It seems all I do is create one problem after another.”

Kate should be flattered by the fact that she’d driven him to such abandon, but she wasn’t, considering what it might mean in the long term. Considering he saw her—their lovemaking—as a problem, when she considered it a gift. “Look, if I happen to be pregnant, I don’t expect anything from you. But you have my guarantee I’ll love any child that belongs to me, whether you choose to be involved in its life or not.”

Anger turned his eyes as dark as moonless midnight. “Do you believe so little of me that you think I would abandon my own child? If that is so, then it would stand to reason that you don’t believe my claims that Cecile is not my child.”

Could things get any worse? “I do believe you, Marc. I just don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything you don’t want to do. And if you think we should avoid each other, then all you have to do is tell me. I won’t bother you again.”

“Kate, I want…” He hesitated then spun around and headed to the door. “Nicholas is probably waiting. I’ll ride back with one of the guards. We can discuss this later.”

Kate fought back a sudden rush of tears as she followed him into the hall. “Marc, we need to talk about this now. You can’t just walk away.”

“Are the king and his lady having a lovers’ quarrel?”

Kate and Marc turned simultaneously toward the end of the corridor. Mortification set in when Kate realized the annoying voice belonged to none other than Jonathan Renault.

How could they deny his allegations now?

Marc chose not to fight the sudden fury welling within him. In fact, he welcomed the wrath that he now directed at Renault with an acrid look, his hands fisted at his sides itching to wipe the smug look off the doctor’s face. “You are treading on dangerous ground, Renault. You have been since you made your erroneous assumptions known to the press.”

Renault looked Kate up and down before centering on her flushed face and kiss-swollen lips. “It seems my assumptions have been correct, although I assure you I’ve said nothing to the press.”

Marc took a menacing step forward. “Menteur.”

“I am a liar? Forgive me, Your Highness, but are you not guilty of the same? You have lied about your relationship with Dr. Milner. Of course, I do understand your motivation. I cannot imagine the people of Doriana would accept that their king had taken a common putain as his lover.”

No one called Kate a whore. No one. “You low-life bastard.” Rage sent Marc forward but before he could land a fist on Renault’s ugly face, Kate grabbed his arm. “No, Marc,” she said. “This will only make matters worse.”

“Listen to your lover, Your Highness,” Renault said, cowering in the corner of the corridor. “I will press charges with the authorities if you lay one hand on me. I do not care if you are the king.”

Marc derived some satisfaction in the terror calling out from Renault’s eyes. “You’re right. I am not above the law. But I am within my rights to dismiss you from your position. I expect you to vacate the premises tonight and not return. And if I see you again, I won’t be so benevolent.”

“Are you threatening me, King Marcel?”

“I am saying I will no longer tolerate your insolence, Renault.”

“And I promise you will regret your decision.”

After the doctor scurried away, Marc crouched in the hall and grabbed his nape with both hands. He couldn’t remember feeling so drained and useless. He’d always shown great restraint when dealing with the likes of Renault and practicing care when it came to lovemaking. Tonight he had done neither.

He felt a gentle touch on his head. “Let’s go home, Marc.”

Home.