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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, reckless 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 (#u5ec69a1f-bf1e-5a60-8c2b-c6478a1d78b2)
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, even 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.”
Kate turned her attention to Mary because it was too painful to look at Marc. “Is there anything I can do? Maybe an interview?”
Mary gave her a sympathetic look. “No, my dear. We will have to allow this gossip to run its course until we can come up with our own retraction.”
“Or the proof that Cecile is Philippe’s child,” Marc added.
“And what purpose would that serve?” Mary asked.
“To clear Kate’s name. And mine.”
Kate felt as if she were being pulled into a human tug-of-war. “Don’t worry about me, Marc. I can cope with this.”
He sent her a hard look. “Can you?”
Mary wrapped her arm around Kate’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “She most certainly can, Marcel. Kate is a mature, strong woman. I have no doubt she will deal with the situation with grace.”
Kate wished she had Mary’s confidence. “I’ll do whatever you instruct me to do. I promise I won’t speak to anyone without consulting you first.”
“Of course, dear. We trust you. We simply wanted to forewarn you and have Marcel escort you back to the palace.” Mary dropped her arm from Kate’s shoulder and stared at Marc. “And you will be courteous to the doctor. In the meantime, I will return home to check on our charge. I’m certain Beatrice would appreciate someone to relieve her.”
Kate saw her chance to escape. She didn’t want to talk to Marc until he’d had time to calm down. “Give me a minute and I’ll be ready to go. I can help.”
“I need to see you first. Alone.”
Marc’s command caused Kate to stiffen from the fury she sensed building just below the surface of his composed demeanor. She wasn’t afraid of Marc; she was afraid she couldn’t find the words to reason with him. But she had to try.
“Okay. I can do that,” she said.
“Take your time,” Mary said as she headed away. “I will tell the guards to remain posted outside and have Nicholas return for you after he has delivered me to the palace.”
Once Mary was out of sight, Kate gestured toward the office. “Let’s go in here so we can have some privacy.”
Marc stepped inside the room and reclined against the desk, arms folded across his chest. Kate closed the door and leaned back against it for support.
“You should have told me about Renault. We might have prevented the rumors from escalating, or at least been better prepared.”
“The damage was already done by the time the press got to me,” Kate said. “And again, I didn’t say anything about Renault because I knew you had already reached the boiling point.”
“It’s been three days, Kate. You could have told me in that length of time.”
Her own anger rose to the surface. “How was I supposed to do that? You haven’t been around. It’s hard to tell someone something when that someone refuses to talk.”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
“So have I, Marc.”
“I know. And that, too, is my fault.” His anger melted into resignation. “I should probably claim Cecile is my child and allow the council to do as they see fit with me.”
Kate was only now beginning to recognize that a scandal of this proportion—real or fabricated—could do irrevocable injury to Marc’s standing as a leader. She should have realized that he was no different from any man in power, even if he had been born into the responsibility. “They can’t oust you, can they?”
“No, but they can make it difficult for me to accomplish anything from this point forward. I rely on their complete support. Without it, I am only a figurehead.”
“Then fight them.”
“What would be the point?”
Kate sent him an incredulous look. “What would be the point? Because you’re good at what you do. Because you want to make your country a better place. You care about your people. Everyone knows that.”
“You’re making a huge assumption.”
Stubborn man. “I’m not illiterate, Marc. I read the papers. I’ve followed your rise to power. I know how much you’ve been admired in your diplomatic endeavors, and your recent reputation as a strong leader.”
“You’ve forgotten my reputation of being a womanizer. That seems to have taken precedence in my adulthood.”
“Until Philippe died. Since then, you’ve gained respect from world leaders.”
“I’ve achieved nothing, Kate, at least in the eyes of my people. They will not forgive this.”
Kate threw up her hands and released a frustrated sigh. “Okay, Marc. Give up, if that’s what you want to do. I’m certainly not going to stop you. Just don’t expect me to stand by and watch you self-destruct.”
Though it was the hardest thing she’d ever done, Kate turned away from him. She saw no sense in trying to convince him to fight, not when he seemed so against undertaking the battle—one he would have to face alone, by his choice.
