The Royal Wager

by Kristi Gold

  Kate sincerely hoped he didn’t.

  In the middle of the night, after Cecile was tucked safely in bed, Marc escorted Kate to the inn to retrieve her belongings with a bevy of armed guards as their chaperones. Regardless, he’d done well to keep his hands off of her in the privacy of the car, but once they returned to the deserted guest cottage, he questioned how long he could maintain his resolve.

  Marc considered leaving her alone, but he truly didn’t want to leave, especially after Martine had told him that although Kate’s wound didn’t appear that serious, someone should watch her in case she showed signs of a concussion.

  Presently, she showed Marc a pair of shapely legs encased in nylons as she strolled around the small living room to examine the odds and ends on the bookshelves in the corner. Those damn panty hose had saved him from doing something totally inadvisable earlier that day, before Nicholas had delivered his untimely interruption.

  “Another great collection of books,” she said, keeping her back to him. “Just wish I could read more French. But I am doing some studying.”

  Marc was doing some studying of his own—namely the curve of her buttocks and the dip of her waist—as she replaced one volume above her head.

  “I could teach you a few words.” The words running through his mind now would not be deemed appropriate for common usage. But in bed….

  She smiled at him over one shoulder. “I’m doing better at the clinic, picking up a few phrases. I’m sure the more I’m exposed to the various languages, the more I’ll learn.”

  Marc wanted to expose her to more than words. He wanted to expose her to his hands, to his mouth, to his body.

  He tried to relax on the floral sofa that now felt as hard and uncompromising as his escalating erection. With every move Kate made, his muscles clenched with the effort to maintain control. But when she turned to him and began pulling the tails of her blouse from the skirt’s waistband, he was as hard as he’d ever been in recent memory.

  “I think I’ll take a shower now,” she said.

  Marc thought he should show himself to the door before he showed her how much she was affecting him. “Are you feeling well enough to do that?”

  “I feel fine.”

  How well he knew that. “Perhaps I should stand outside the bathroom door in case you should become dizzy.”

  She strolled to the sofa and stood above him. “Perhaps you should join me in the shower.”

  He groaned. “I thought you were going to behave.”

  “I thought you were going back to the palace.”

  “I am.”

  “What are you waiting for?”

  He waited for his mind to commandeer his libido. Waited for her to toss him out. Waited for logic to come forth and issue a protest strong enough to stop the overpowering need to touch her.

  When none of those things happened, Marc caught her wrist and pulled her forward between his parted legs. He slid his hands up her sides, relishing the feel of her curves against his palm, needing to feel more of her, and soon, duty be damned. His reputation be damned. They were alone, and no one would have to know. If he couldn’t have all of her, he could at least give her what she needed. He could gain some satisfaction from satisfying her—if that was what she wanted—and he assumed it was, considering her eyes held the cast of desire.

  He ran his palms up her thighs, this time beneath the skirt. “I believe I have some unfinished business.”

  She brushed his hair away from his forehead. “What unfinished business would that be?”

  “What I started in the car.”

  She smiled. “Really? I thought you said—”

  “I know what I said. I’m tired of fighting this.”

  “Then don’t fight it.”

  Marc pulled her down on the sofa into his lap, effectively cutting off all conversation with a kiss that was as intense as the one they’d shared in the car. Kate released an unmistakably sexual sound against his mouth that encouraged him to keep going. She tightened her hold around his neck as he nudged her legs apart and slid one hand along the inside of her thighs, contacting the frustrating barrier bent on keeping him from his goal. Whoever invented panty hose should be bound and gagged with nylon for at least a week.

  But that did not deter him. Barriers were made to be broken, and he sufficiently broke through this one with a tug and tear at the seam, revealing she wore nothing beneath them. Kate’s gasp didn’t stop him either; the press of her hips toward his hand indicated she wanted this as badly as he wanted to give it to her.

  Her legs opened more, leaving her completely open to him. Yet as he broke the kiss to watch her face, he considered stopping. He had her at an unfair advantage, and she had him at a crossroad where he greatly questioned his determination not to take her completely, right there, on a sofa. But to stop now would be unimaginable. Not until he gave her the release she deserved, even if he could not have his own.

  He found the small bud that blossomed beneath his touch as he caressed her. “Does this feel good?”

  Her eyes drifted closed. “It feels…great.”

  “I cannot argue that,” he told her, even as a myriad of arguments against this very thing warred within his conscience. He chose to ignore his concerns and focus only on Kate and her pleasure.

  Marc claimed her mouth again as he slid one finger inside her and stroked her, inside and out. He burned to know how it would feel to have her surrounding him when the orgasm claimed her. He settled for only imagining when she climaxed in strong, steady spasms much sooner than he’d expected. But why should that surprise him? They had engaged in enough foreplay to keep them both balanced on the brink of spontaneous combustion.

  Had Marc not been resigned to giving Kate only this much, the feel of her might have been his undoing, literally, because in a matter of moments, he could have his slacks undone and his body seated deeply within her heat. His mind insisted he stop now, stop with just this prelude. Instead, he kept touching her, wringing out every last pulse of her climax as he considered giving her another, this time with his mouth…until she said, “I want you, Marc. All of you. Now.”

  His strength fractured in that moment, even as his mind warned him not to give in. His resistance evaporated completely when Kate moved to his side, released his belt, lowered his zipper, then pulled his slacks and briefs down his hips. She kissed him as she explored him, drove him to the edge with hands as fine as velvet. Marc needed to stop her, that much he knew. He needed to put an end to this madness before it was too late. Before they couldn’t stop.

  But it was already too late, so at the very least, he needed to make certain he protected Kate against pregnancy.

  He caught her wrist and brought her hand up, temporarily ending the torture.

  Her eyes narrowed with frustration. “I want this, Marc. So do you.”

  “We should go to the bedroom, Kate.”

  “I don’t want to wait.”

  She wrested from his grasp and fumbled with the buttons on her blouse, then slipped it away along with her bra. Marc wasn’t sure he would make it to the bedroom when Kate stripped out of her skirt and ruined panty hose, then tossed them away. Now she was beautifully naked, and completely his. After tearing off his own shirt and kicking off his slacks, he bent, reached into his pants’ pocket and withdrew the condom he’d brought with him, knowing all along this would probably happen. Hoping all along that it would.

  After he had the condom in place, Kate stretched out on the sofa and held out her arms to him. He gladly eased into her embrace, eased into her body and experienced a freedom he hadn’t known in years. It had nothing to do with the length of time since he’d been in a woman’s arms. It had everything to do with Kate Milner and the hold she had on him. For a moment, the guilt tried to come forth, but he pushed it aside as he put himself at the mercy of nature and his need for Kate.

  Marc moved in a slow cadence at first until the chemistry that had been flowing between them exploded in a wild, rec
kless rhythm. He slid his hands over Kate’s body as if he could not get enough of the feel of her. She raked her hands down his back and molded them to his buttocks as he drove harder, faster, losing all sense of time and place in pursuit of pleasure. When he felt the first ripples of Kate’s climax, Marc drew one crested nipple into his mouth, sending her over the edge and drawing him farther into her body. Not long after, he joined her with a jolt and a shudder that he couldn’t control any more than he could temper his pounding heart. He regretted it had happened too quickly, had been over too soon. Right now he felt too damn good to ruin the moment with any other regrets.

  They remained twined together in a tangle of limbs, their bare flesh slick with their efforts and their breathing broken and heavy. Marc buried his face in Kate’s hair and savored the feel of her hands stroking his back, their bodies still closely joined. He could stay this way forever and say to hell with the world, to his responsibilities and the problems facing him.

  The shrill of the phone splintered the silence and sent Marc up and away from Kate as if he’d been caught red-handed by the royal court.

  Kate leaned over him to grab the phone from the end table, rubbing her breasts across his chest, eliciting his groan.

  She fumbled for the phone and answered with a breathless, “Hello,” then sent Marc a forlorn look. “Hi, Mary. No, you didn’t interrupt anything. I was just about to take a shower.”

  Marc mouthed, “Do not tell her I’m here,” but realized it was too late when Kate said, “He’s here. We’ve just returned from the inn with my things. He’s about to leave.”

  Marc rose from the sofa, snatched his clothing from the floor and headed to bathroom while Kate told his mother, “If it’s okay, I’m going to get dressed first and take a quick bath. I mean, undressed and take a bath, then I’ll be up to see if I can get her to sleep.”

  Marc was quite up again and doubted he would be sleeping at all.

  After dressing, he returned to Kate and found her wearing only her blouse that came to the tops of her thighs. “Nothing like a fussy baby to interrupt,” she said, looking self-conscious.

  Marc streaked a hand over his nape. “It was a timely interruption, otherwise we might have gone to your bed, and that would have been unwise, considering I only have one condom.”

  She walked to him and circled her arms around his waist. “It would have been wonderful, and the night isn’t over yet, unless you don’t have any more condoms in your room.”

  Held captive by her body molded to his, he slid his hands down her back and palmed her bare bottom. They came together in another earthshattering kiss until reality and regret tunneled their way into Marc’s brain.

  He pulled her arms away and stepped back. “I can’t offer you anything beyond lovemaking, Kate. Not at this point in my life.”

  She lifted her chin a notch. “If you tell me that one more time, I’m going to scream. I don’t expect anything from you, Marc. And I don’t believe you didn’t want this to happen.”

  He’d definitely wanted it, more than he should. “I certainly didn’t want to be king, but that decision has been forced upon me.”

  She looked despondent and Marc wished he could take back his thoughtless words. “Are you saying I forced you to do this?”

  “Of course not, and you should realize that. My only regret involves the chaos my life has become. You do not deserve that.”

  Kate frowned. “Why don’t you let me decide what I do and don’t deserve. And as far as you being king, why don’t you try and concentrate on the good you’re doing?”

  “Sometimes I wonder if I am doing anything right.”

  “You are.” She touched his face with reverence, as if she believed in him. “I know firsthand what it’s like to have people depending on you. My parents are very needy and I couldn’t take it anymore. That’s why I came here, to get away and make my own life.”

  He took her hand and kissed her palm before releasing it. “But I cannot walk away.” At times, he wished he could.

  “No, you can’t, but you can focus on the positive aspects of your power and skills.” She winked and grinned. “I’ve certainly experienced a few.”

  His body lurched back to life. “Kate, you have no idea what you do to me when you make those statements.”

  She ran a slow fingertip down the ridge beneath his fly. “Yes, I do.” She returned to the couch, retrieved the panty hose, balled them up and then tossed them at Marc. “Here’s a little souvenir of our night together, so you don’t forget.”

  As if Marc could really forget something that had been so incredible.

  With a wicked smile, Kate turned and walked down the corridor leading to the bath, leaving Marc holding her ruined panty hose while he clung to his last vestiges of sanity. He recognized it was only a matter of time before they made love again, unless he developed a steel will. He did not foresee that happening, considering he now knew how good it had felt to be inside of her, to be totally lost in her.

  Yet it was Kate’s understanding of the man beneath the king that had begun to appeal to him on a deeper, distinct level beyond carnality. As a king, he feared disappointing his people—and as a man, he feared disappointing Kate. Not when it came to lovemaking; he had always been confident in that regard. They were good together. Damn good. But could he be the man that she needed, the one she would want for all time? And could he give all of himself to her, even the part he had kept hidden from the world? Kept hidden from himself?

  If he made a commitment to explore more than their mutual desire, he would have to follow through, since Kate merited a man who would give her all his attention and consideration. While before he would have rejected that prospect, he was actually beginning to consider all the possibilities—and advantages—of having Kate Milner in his life.

  Seven

  Kate Milner had done the unthinkable. She’d fallen in love with Marc DeLoria all over again.

  Oh, she’d tried to convince herself that all she’d wanted was a little adventure with Marc. For that reason, she’d been playing the primo seductress when, in fact, she wanted his heart as much as she wanted his body. And three nights ago, he’d proven to her that he was the consummate lover—and a man who had no designs on being tied to a serious relationship.

  How many women had fallen hopelessly in love with him, only to be left behind? She couldn’t begin to imagine, but she also wasn’t ready to give up. Some day, someone was going to lay claim to his heart. Why not her?

  Because the only commitment that interested Marc was his commitment to his kingdom. Kate was a diversion, someone to keep his mind off his troubles during a few stolen moments. Yes, he’d said he respected her, thought she was special, even beautiful, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about his feelings for her beyond that. It was crazy for her to expect anything else, especially since she hadn’t seen much of him at all for the past few days. Once more, he’d become the elusive king, choosing to keep himself secluded doing heaven only knew what. She only knew that it hadn’t involved her.

  She had to accept the realization that their one night together might be all that they would ever share. Had to accept she would probably be one of many women who had tried to win him over, without success.

  At least her day at the clinic had been relatively successful, and somewhat quieter than the past few days. But unfortunately, that had allowed her time to think about Marc and worry about how long she would continue to hope that her relationship with him might evolve into more. That wouldn’t happen if he continued to avoid her. At least his mother and Cecile had been great company. Although she’d enjoyed being with them, it wasn’t the same thing as having time alone with Marc.

  She was simply too tired to think about it at the moment. Now nearing 6:00 p.m., she’d seen her last patient an hour ago and had remained to catch up on some paperwork before she called Mr. Nicholas for her ride back to the guesthouse. One thing she did know—she would never, ever go near the front entrance again, eve
n though Marc had ordered guards posted at every access. And she felt somewhat guilty that that had been necessary.

  Kate charted the last of her notes at the desk in the small office Dr. Martine had arranged for her this morning. At least she was out of Renault’s line of fire now, with the exception of passing him in the hall. And at least he hadn’t tried to make a pass. Otherwise, she might have introduced her knee to his family jewels.

  The sound of voices startled Kate, since she assumed she was alone in the clinic. A woman’s voice and a man’s voice—namely, the queen mother’s and the king’s.

  Kate pushed back from the desk and opened the door to find them standing outside the office, both looking extremely distressed.

  Panic settled on Kate’s chest. “Is something wrong with Cecile?”

  Mary attempted a smile. “Oh, no, dear. Cecile is fine. She’s with Beatrice.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Because of this.” Marc held up another newspaper. “Aside from my show of temper with the cameraman, it covers the ‘palace baby’ and cites an anonymous source who claims he or she has proof that the child is yours and mine.”

  Kate closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and pointer finger. “I was afraid this might happen.”

  “This is not your fault, Kate,” Mary said. “The media know no restraint where our family is concerned. Some people delight in creating false rumors to discredit us.”

  Kate looked up to see indisputable anger in Marc’s expression and regretted not telling him about Jonathan’s comments. “The source is probably Renault. He made the first insinuations three days ago.”

  Marc’s eyes narrowed. “Why did you not tell me after this happened?”

  “Because I didn’t want to upset you further.”

  “You can bloody well believe I am upset.”

  “Settle down, Marcel,” Mary scolded. “Kate does not deserve your anger. She was only doing what she thought was best for you.”