Marion Lennox: Her Royal Baby

She didn’t care.

‘Get out,’ she whispered, choking on her fury as she hauled open the door. ‘Get out. If we never see you again it’ll be too soon. You and your damned family and your stupid money…’

‘What…?’ He was holding his face as if he couldn’t believe what she’d done. The peasants were indeed revolting. With violence!

‘You killed my Lara.’ She was stammering with rage. ‘You took her life. You…’ She raised her hand again but he was before her, seizing her hands and dragging them behind her back. A middle-aged couple were walking along the hall to their suite and they paused in concern.

‘Is everything all right?’ the man asked, and Marc swore through gritted teeth, pushed Tammy back into the room and slammed the door.

‘Now see what you’ve done?’

‘Spoilt your reputation? I can’t believe you’ve never been hit by a woman.’ She was verging on hysteria but she couldn’t help herself.

‘Believe it or not, I haven’t. Until now. What the hell are you saying about my family?’

‘I’ve read the letter from my sister. Sent to me four months ago.’

‘So?’

‘She was sending Henry to me.’ He was still holding her hands behind her, she was pulled in hard against him, but whether or not it was to stop her striking him she didn’t know. She was past thinking of his intent. Her attention was fully on the contents of that dreadful letter. ‘Lara was frightened. She was in way over her head. Her husband was taking drugs. They were running with a crowd she couldn’t control. He was always drunk…’

‘I know that.’

His words shocked her. ‘You know it?’

‘Jean-Paul was a mindless, arrogant twit,’ he said grimly. ‘He’d been overindulged since birth. He was an alcoholic by the time he was eighteen. If you’re thinking he changed after your sister married him then think again. She knew exactly what she was getting into.’

Tammy flinched. ‘Then why…?’

‘Why did she marry him?’ Marc’s lips compressed into a smile that held no humour at all. He stared down at the ripped pieces of cheque littering the floor and shook his head. ‘Lara would never have done that.’

‘Ripped your cheque?’

‘Ripped anyone’s cheque. She and your mother… I remember them at the wedding. They thought they’d won the ultimate trophy. And all they’d won was Jean-Paul.’

‘She’d won the chance to be a princess.’

‘It came at a cost.’

She was staring up at him, her breathing coming way too fast. He was still holding her, but absently. He didn’t know his own strength, she thought. He held her as if he could take on three of her.

He probably could.

‘Let me go,’ she breathed, and he stared down her, and his dark eyes glittered with something she didn’t understand.

‘Will you hit me again?’

‘Probably.’

‘Then maybe I shouldn’t let you go.’

‘You could just leave,’ she managed through gritted teeth. ‘That’d solve all our problems.’

‘It wouldn’t solve anything.’ He stared down at her for a long moment. They were so close. She could feel his breath on her hair. She bit her lip and stared straight ahead-at the fine linen of his shirt. His top two buttons were unfastened and his throat was tanned. There was a trace of wisping hair on his muscled chest…

The way her body was reacting was crazy, she thought frantically. She needed every ounce of concentration to focus on Henry, and yet this man had the ability to sidetrack her-to make her think about his body…

Henry. She had to focus on Henry.

‘What did your sister say?’ He put her away from him then, with a rough little gesture that made her stumble. His hands caught her again-as if he hadn’t meant to be so rough. He righted her as he’d right a doll, then stood back and watched her.

‘I don’t have to tell you.’

‘I can’t answer your allegations until I know what they are,’ he said bluntly. ‘I think it’s time for the truth. Don’t you?’

‘I…’

But she got no further. There was an urgent knock on the door, cutting through her attempt at speech.

‘Damn,’ Marc said.

Tammy didn’t move.

‘Are you expecting someone?’ he demanded, but still she didn’t move.

‘Is everything all right in there?’ It was a loud male voice, raised in authority. ‘Miss, can you open the door? We’ve had a report of violence.’

Great. Security. Exactly what she needed. Tammy gave Marc a look that was almost triumphant and marched to the door. She swung it open to find two burly security guards on the other side.

‘Miss Dexter?’

‘Yes.’

They looked past her to Marc, standing behind her. ‘Is this man bothering you?’

Yes. She should say yes. She should have them drag him out of here so she could slam the door behind him and that would be that. They could speak to each other through their lawyers.

‘We need to talk,’ he said urgently as she hesitated. She looked back at him, which was a mistake. His eyes were urgent and compelling, and sending her messages she didn’t understand.

‘Why?’ she managed, and the urgency in his voice increased.

‘Because you and I are all the family Henry has. Because, regardless of what you think of me, I care. Because I have responsibilities I need to face, and because Henry has a heritage neither of us can avoid.’

‘Henry stays with me,’ she said flatly as the security guards looked on.

‘Can we organise a babysitter and talk over dinner?’

‘No.’

‘Do you want us to remove him?’ one of the security guards said, and still she hesitated.

There was so much she didn’t know. She glanced back and found Marc still watching her with the expression she was coming to know. Watchful and non-judgmental.

She’d thought when she first met him that he had a good face. Kind. Maybe she was wrong-her wrist was tingling now from the force with which he’d held her-but still he watched, and she needed to come to a decision.

She thought fast, forcing her confused mind to focus. This was a five-star Australian hotel. Henry was an Australian citizen. Marc could hardly drag the baby from her arms and remove him. If he was planning on removing Henry from the country illegally he’d hardly have gone to the effort of finding her in the first place.

No. This man was a Head of State. He’d have to do things above board.

He could try and persuade her all he wanted. She could afford to listen.

‘We’ll have dinner,’ she told him.

‘I’ll organise…’

‘No. I’ll organise dinner. We’ll have Room Service here in my room, where I can watch Henry.’ She glanced back at the security officers and managed a smile. ‘We’ll be fine,’ she told them. ‘His Royal Highness has a temper, but he’s trying his best to fit into civilised society. If he promises to behave then he can stay. You guys are on call if he steps out of line again, aren’t you?’

There was a sharp intake of breath behind her but she didn’t care. Serves him right, she thought, rubbing her wrist.

Serves him right.

‘We’re at the end of the phone, miss,’ one of the guards told her. Clearly in this hotel they were accustomed to all sorts, and violent patrons were nothing new. ‘Dial 8 or scream. Either way we’ll be here in seconds.’

But they weren’t speaking to Tammy. They were speaking directly to Marc, and their body language said they’d like to haul him out of there right now.

‘GREAT.’

‘Great?’

‘Do you know what you’ve just done for inter-country relations?’ Marc demanded as the door closed. ‘These people know who I am and now they’re thinking I’m somewhere between Godzilla and Attila the Hun.’