by Kristi Gold
“I didn’t want to upset you further. I know how much you admire her.”
“And what do you plan to do to prevent this from happening?”
Marc rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed both hands down his face. “I honestly don’t know. I have too much to think about now with Renault’s threats and the rumors. I’m torn between duty to my country and my commitment to Kate.”
“You will simply have to consider both. Life is very short, Marcel.”
And Marc was very short on time. Feeling drained, he leaned back against the sofa. “What if Kate decides to leave regardless of what I tell her?”
“Then you will have to convince her to stay.”
She made it sound as if that involved no more than saying, Kate, I love you, marry me, and we’ll live happily ever after. “How do you propose I do that?”
She released a mirthless laugh. “Marcel, you’ve spent your life wooing women. You are a highly intelligent man. I have no doubt you will find a way.”
“I hope your belief in me is warranted.” He hoped Kate’s belief in him still existed.
“I have all the confidence in the world in you. And I assume you’ve decided to take my advice?”
He smiled reluctantly. “I will follow your advice and try to win Kate’s heart.”
“You have her heart, Marcel. Now all you have to do is come up with a plan to win her hand.”
A sudden bout of determination sent Marc abruptly to his feet. “I will get on that immediately. And we’ll hope that Kate hasn’t left for Paris to catch the next plane out of Europe.”
“I doubt she has, dear. If I know her, she’s probably coming up with some way to convince you that love isn’t really a four-letter word.”
“And I hope I am not making a mistake by asking her to take on this life and my problems.”
She stood and touched his face. “You’re asking her to be by your side. Throughout history, every successful male leader has had a remarkable woman by his side. And of those women who have chosen to stand behind their mates, you can rest assured they’ve given their husbands a few swift kicks in the arse for good measure.”
Marc grinned. “I’ve always wondered why my father looked as though it sometimes pained him to sit on the throne.”
He held out his hand and drew her into an embrace, thankful to have rediscovered his mother’s love—a love that had always existed. He’d simply been reluctant to accept it.
“Love well, my son,” she whispered. “There is no greater power on this earth.”
Marc kissed her cheek, realizing that what she’d said about love was patently true, and his love for Kate propelled him out the door and to his office, with Nicholas following behind him.
Once in the study, he told Nicholas, “Find Brigante and tell him to meet me here immediately.”
“Are you calling a press conference, sir?”
“I am certainly not planning a ball, Nicholas.”
“And when will this take place?”
“This afternoon, if all goes well. And I’ll need your assistance.”
Nicholas bowed. “As always, I am at your service, Your Majesty.”
“Your Majesty? Are you getting soft on me, Nicholas?”
“Why, of course not. I will address you as I see fit, depending on what you are planning to do.”
“Meaning?”
“If your plans include marriage to Dr. Milner, then I will address you as you so deserve to be addressed, Your Wiseness. And if they do not, then I will have to address you as Your Foolishness.”
Marc scowled. “Were you listening in on my conversation with my mother?”
“I am appalled that you would think such a thing. I am only relying on my observations.”
“Good.”
“However, I do agree with your mother on the point of having a good woman by your side, and I must say that Dr. Milner is the crème de la crème of women. You could not do better.”
“Thank you, Nicholas, for your counsel. And if you are quite finished with your commentary on what you did not overhear, I will tell you what I expect from you in the next few hours.”
In the next few hours, Marc’s life was about to take a turn. And if it spiraled out of control, he would welcome Kate as his anchor. He wanted her in his life, in his bed. As his wife, his life partner.
He wanted her more than he wanted the crown.
And damn anyone who told him he could not have her.
Kate would give anything if Nicholas hadn’t interrupted. Marc had been about to say something. He wanted her to stay because… He liked the way she looked standing by a stove? He liked having her around for a little slap and tickle when the spirit moved him? If she went back home, would he even miss her?
She considered what she would be giving up if she did decide to leave. She loved her job. She loved Cecile as if she were her own child and Mary almost as much as she loved her own mother. And she definitely loved Marc.
Of course, the big question was—did Marc love her? If not now, could he ever love her? She could darn sure try to convince him that he could. And she would, even if he was the most stubborn, headstrong, sexy, to-die-for man she had ever known. She’d never backed down to challenge before, so why start now?
If Kate could have one wish, at the moment she would wish she were two people. One available to take care of her responsibilities, the other available to go after Marc.
Fifteen patients down, one more to go, then a long night of decision-making ahead of her. A lot of hours to choose between responsibility to her life’s work and responsibility to her own life. If Marc ended their relationship completely, she wasn’t as sure as she had been before that she could stand facing him on a regular basis, knowing what might have been. But she also couldn’t stand the thought of leaving little Cecile or Mary. Or Marc.
Kate stopped in the break room long enough to indulge in a stale croissant and a cup of cold coffee, all she’d had to eat that day. Her appetite had gone out the door with Marc and hadn’t returned because Marc hadn’t returned. He also hadn’t bothered to call.
Considering what he now faced, Kate couldn’t blame him for putting her on the back burner. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t blame him. Hopefully, they would find a few minutes to talk, at which time she’d have plenty to say to him.
“Dr. Milner, I have orders to escort you to the town square.”
Kate glanced from the beginner’s French book she’d carried with her into the lounge to Bernard Nicholas, who stood at the door looking decidedly concerned.
And she was definitely confused. “Is there a medical emergency?”
“No, there is no emergency.”
“But I still have one patient to see.”
“That has been covered by Dr. Martine. This is of the utmost importance.”
She stood, clutching the coffee cup tightly. “Can you give me a hint?”
“I have been instructed to say no more.” He gestured toward the hall. “Now if you’ll please follow me.”
Kate started to issue a protest, but thought what the heck. Just another adventure in a long line of many. And maybe even the last one for a while.
After exiting the hospital’s main entrance, they were immediately surrounded by armed guards, one in front, one in back and one on either side of Kate and Mr. Nicholas. And thankfully no press, unlike the last time Kate had dared to leave through the front door.
Instead of taking the car, they walked the four blocks in silence until they reached a mass of people and media members gathered round the statue of a white marble angel, her face turned to the sky, centered in the cobblestoned square. Mr. Nicholas motioned to Kate to follow him into an area cordoned off with bright yellow tape and protected by several members of local law enforcement. It wasn’t until they had worked their way a few more feet that Kate glimpsed the makeshift platform. And standing behind the podium was the king.
Kate felt that old familiar longing when she looked at him.
His neatly combed hair revealed his incredible face. His impeccably tailored navy suit enhanced his broad shoulders. His absent smile and confident stance made him seem every bit the monarch—until he looked to his left and their gazes met. Then she saw a fleeting glimpse of some mysterious emotion in his eyes before he turned his attention to the crowd.
He spoke in French and Kate could make out a few words, but not enough to understand what this was all about. She turned to Nicholas and asked, “What’s he saying?”
“He’s talking about the hospital and his plans for improvements.” He waited a few moments then raised an eyebrow. “Now he’s saying he’s going to give away his car for auction with all proceeds going to hospital expansion.”
“The Corvette?”
“It appears that way.”
Kate couldn’t believe he would actually give up his revered vehicle. “What’s he saying now?”
“He’s explaining the difficulties he’s had with Dr. Renault and he’s denying the threats. He does say that he dismissed the physician and he’s giving his reasons for that decision. It’s not very flattering.”
Probably more restraint than Kate would have exercised when it came to Jonathan Renault. “Good. I hope they believe him.”
At that moment, an attractive young woman walked to the podium and stood by Marc’s side. As irrational as it seemed, Kate wondered if this might be some girlfriend he hadn’t bothered to tell her about. Or maybe it was darling Elsa. But no, the woman wasn’t a blonde, and she wasn’t buxom. But she was looking at Marc as if he’d hung the sun hovering above them.
Oh, God. Was he about to announce his engagement? Had he chosen this woman next to him to be his wife? That thought halted Kate’s breathing altogether.
She couldn’t stand it any longer when Marc sent the woman a smile. “Who is that?” she asked Nicholas.
“That is Gabriella Collarde. The king is about to speak English and she will translate his words into French.”
“Thank heavens. Maybe now I can understand him.” Maybe now she could relax knowing this wasn’t some paramour he’d been hiding in the palace broom closet.
“I would like to move on to the topic of the mysterious ‘palace’ baby,” Marc began. “Her name is Cecile, and it has been rumored she is a DeLoria. I am here to confirm that she is.”
Several people gasped, then a chorus of whispers ensued until Marc raised his hand to silence them. “All I will say at this time is she was conceived in love and she will be raised with love as my child.”
He paused to seek out Kate and gave her his smile. “I would also like to publicly acknowledge another very special woman in my life—someone I’ve known for quite some time, yet it wasn’t until recently that I’ve had the privilege of knowing her very well.”
Kate locked firmly into his gaze. Her pulse fluttered and her heart pounded like a kettledrum from anticipation of what might come next.
“And if she would do me the honor of coming to my side, I have something I would like to ask her.”
Stunned and absent of coherent thought, Kate turned to Nicholas. “Is he talking about me?”
Nicholas smiled. “He is certainly not talking about me, Doctor, unless he’s suffered a severe loss of testosterone, which I greatly doubt. So I assume he does mean you.”
Kate wasn’t sure she could move; it felt as though someone had plastered her feet to the pavement. She definitely couldn’t speak because a lump the size of a basketball had formed in her throat. And as far as her vision went, that proved to be a challenge, too, since her eyes were foggy with tears.
Had it not been for Mr. Nicholas’s assistance, Kate would have stumbled blindly to the podium. But once they reached the platform, Marc reached for her, taking her hand and her heart as he helped her up the steps and pulled her close to his side.
When he turned her to face him and pushed the microphone away, it was as if everything around them disappeared—the masses, the mountains and even the clear skies above. Kate saw nothing aside from his cobalt blue eyes, his beautiful smile, his endearing dimples. She heard nothing aside from him saying, “I love you, Kate, and I want you to be my wife.”
Kate opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again, but the words wouldn’t form around her threatening tears.
Marc looked concerned. “Do you love me, Kate?”
She sighed. “Yes. I always have. I always will. But Marc, I’m not royalty. I’m just…well…me.”
He palmed her cheek in his large, warm hand. “And it’s you that I want. You that I’ve chosen. The rest doesn’t matter.”
“It could matter to your people.”
“I suppose we’ll have to find out then.” He pulled the microphone back into position and said, “I have asked Dr. Milner to marry me. Now, what do you think her answer should be?”
In many different languages, in many different voices, the word Yes! reverberated around them, growing into a chant that vibrated the platform.
He looked at Kate, his valiant heart in his eyes. “I believe you have their answer, and now I need yours.”
When Kate didn’t respond, he leaned to her ear and said, “One simple word, Kate. One big adventure. Together. Always.”
How could she refuse such an ovation—or the man she loved with every solitary beat of her heart. “Yes.”
Marc turned to the onlookers. “Oui.” He laughed. “She said yes.”
More cheers rose from the crowd as Marc drew Kate into his arms and kissed her without hesitation. A moving, tender kiss that Kate felt to the depths of her soul. After they parted, Marc smiled, Kate cried and Mary joined them, shedding a few tears of her own.
All three embraced for a moment and then left the podium together, Marc and Kate’s arms around each other’s waists. As the guards led them away, Kate caught sight of one cameraman with a white bandage spread across his nose. He moved a considerable distance back when they passed by him. Then someone called from the crowd, “Dr. Milner, what is your relation to the baby named Cecile?”
The crowd went deathly silent and Marc muttered, “You don’t have to answer that,” as he tried to move her forward.
“Yes, I do.” Kate paused and turned toward the man making the query. “She’s mine.” Or she would be.
“Good show, Doctor Milner,” Nicholas said from behind them.
Marc gave her a squeeze. “Very good show, mon amour.”
As Marc, Mary and Kate stood by the Rolls awaiting the return to the palace, Mary touched Kate’s face with reverence. “I have always trusted my instincts, dear Kate, and I see they have not failed me now.”
Kate hugged her again. “And I guess I have to learn to trust mine, too.”
Mary smiled at them both. “You two go ahead with Nicholas. I have another car waiting.”
“We’ll see you at home,” Marc said, finally feeling truly at home.
As he turned to Kate and studied her beautiful green eyes, he realized home had been there all the time, waiting for him to fill it with a remarkable woman with whom he could share his life, the good and the bad. The woman who had long ago rescued a prince from a frog before he had become a king. The woman who was worthy of bearing the title queen. His queen.
The woman who had taught him how to love.
Epilogue
Today, Katherine Milner DeLoria had become a queen.
Three months ago, she’d been common Kate, the doctor, but on this fair September day, she’d been set right in the middle of her very own fairy tale.
In a white horse-drawn carriage, bedecked with assorted flowers gathered from the last blooms in the palace gardens, she rode through the cobblestoned streets lined with villagers and the ever-present press, including television cameras capturing the event.
Maybe it hadn’t been the royal wedding of the century, but to Kate, it had been everything she’d ever dreamed of—a white-lace wedding gown that had been worn by generations of Doriana’s queens, a traditional ceremony held in the stunning, stone
cathedral that had witnessed many a regal wedding. And most important, a gorgeous groom who could steal any woman’s heart with just a look.
The atmosphere seemed surreal, dreamlike, but Kate’s husband—would she ever get used to that?—was so very real. Marc sat beside her with his left hand, sporting a wedding band, entwined with hers, the other lifted to wave at the onlookers who cheered as they passed. He wore a black suit, a gray striped ascot and a smile designed to please the crowd— until he turned it on her. It melted into a smile full of promise, of love, and Kate’s heart melted, too, knowing it was only for her. Knowing he was hers for the rest of their lives, as he’d promised without hesitation during their vows. He hadn’t seemed the least bit nervous during the ceremony—until he’d almost dropped the platinum-and-diamond ring he’d bought her in Paris two weeks before. But she could forgive him that momentary show of nerves. She could forgive almost anything, as long as she had his love.
When the coach stopped to allow the guards to clear the streets of some persistent reporters trying to best each other for the perfect photo, Marc leaned over and whispered, “You know something, with all that fabric you’re wearing, I could slip my hand underneath your skirt and no one would know.”
“I would definitely know,” Kate said, imagining it in great detail.
“True, you would. Are you wearing those demonic panty hose?”
She grinned and shook her head. “White stockings held up by only a band of lace at the thighs.”
He blew into her ear, exposed due to her upswept hair. “What else is under there?”
She shivered. “If you keep that up, King Marcel, I’m going to let you find out even if we are being watched on worldwide television.”
“Damn the camera crews, but I suppose that might not be deemed proper, although very tempting. But just another mile or so, then we’re off to Greece on a private jet, where we can do whatever we please, anywhere we please. The first order of business when we’re airborne will be to get you out of that dress and those stockings and have some champagne, naked.”