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

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


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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.

      Marc didn’t feel as if he really had a home, a place where he truly belonged, at least not one where he was welcome… except when he’d been in Kate Milner’s arms.

      Two days had gone by since the clinic fiasco and Kate had barely seen Marc except in passing. Again. She’d occupied her time with work and searching hospital records for any mysterious women who’d given birth six to eight months before, as Marc had requested. Yet she hadn’t come across any information that might lead to the identity of Cecile’s mother. All the children had been accounted for through pediatric follow-ups except for one, and that had been a boy. Most likely that child’s family had moved away, and it began to look as if Cecile had not been born at St. Simone’s hospital after all, which greatly complicated the investigation.

      Kate decided she would have to start questioning the staff, if she could even begin to concentrate on anything aside from Marc’s troublesome, self-imposed withdrawal. Right now, she had to feed a very fussy Cecile.

      “I am worried about my son.”

      Kate looked up and centered her gaze on Mary. Obviously his mother shared her concern. “Marc’s worried about everything.” She made silly airplane noises while trying to slip the spoon of strained carrots into Cecile’s smiling mouth.

      Mary reached over and swiped at the baby’s face after Cecile blew a raspberry, sending the orange pureed food all over Kate’s T-shirt. “He has much to be concerned about, but he will get through this with you by his side.”

      Kate sensed Marc wanted nothing to do with her now, and that made her hurt in the worst way, right in the area of her heart. “He’ll get through it by himself. He’s a very strong man.”

      Mary smiled a mother’s smile. “A very strong man who is fighting falling in love every step of the way.”

      Kate spoke around her shock, with effort. “Mary, I hope you’re not misunderstanding mine and Marc’s relationship. We’re just friends.” Her declaration had a false ring to it, and she figured Mary had seen right through the pretense.

      “I do not presume to know anything, Kate. However, when he looks at you, his heart shines from his eyes. Have you not noticed this?”

      No, she hadn’t. She’d only seen regret and anger. The past few days during their limited contact during dinner, she’d seen nothing at all. “He’s mad at me. It doesn’t have anything to do with love.”

      “He’s angry at the world, Kate. He’s in love with you.”

      Needing an escape, Kate rose from the table, cleaned Cecile’s hands and face then slid her from the high chair. “I’m going to put this little one to bed after her bath.”

      “Beatrice can do that, dear. You look as though you might collapse from exhaustion.”

      True, every one of Kate’s muscles protested the least bit of activity, but that had to do with some very strenuous lovemaking in some less-than-comfortable positions, even though it had been days since her last interlude with Marc.

      Heat traveled up her throat to her face when the images came to mind. “I’ll put the baby to bed. It will give Beatrice a break and me a chance to wind down after a long day.”

      Mary’s grin was surprisingly wicked for a sophisticated queen mother. “I can think of other ways to do that.”

      Kate frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

      “Yes you do, and so does my son. But if you prefer to play innocent, I’ll certainly understand. One does not normally discuss matters of an intimate nature with one’s future mother-in-law.”

      Kate’s eyes opened wide and so did her mouth. “You’re kidding, right?”

      Mary rose with stately grace and patted Kate’s cheek, then Cecile’s. “I would never make light of something so important. And I have very good instincts about these things. I only hope that you do as well.”

      Mary sashayed away, her red silk caftan flowing behind her. She smiled at Kate over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

      Kate took a moment to absorb Mary’s outrageous assumptions. Wrong assumptions, at least about a marriage between her and Marc. But she hadn’t been wrong about their relationship progressing beyond friendship, at least for Kate. Mary was mistaken to think that her son was at all interested in settling down, not with the weight of the kingdom resting on his shoulders.

      “Isn’t that a silly idea, Marc wanting to marry little old me?” Kate asked Cecile as she headed to the nursery.

      Cecile blew a bubble and belly laughed.

      Kate hugged her hard. “My sentiments exactly.”

      Again


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