Kristi Gold - A Royal Wager

At first Marc was perplexed, until he realized what Elsa had been referring to. He couldn’t stop the chuckle, not a good thing to do considering the acid look Kate sent him. If her eyes were dueling pistols, he’d be a dead man.

Marc pushed away from the door, crossed the room and reached behind the armoire to retrieve the “gift” in hopes of clearing up this whole misunderstanding.

Grabbing the edge of the frame, he withdrew the photograph and presented it to Kate. “This is Elsa’s gift. An eleven-by-fourteen glossy from her recent photo shoot. You will note that she has blond hair and blue eyes.” And practically no clothes on aside from a skimpy swimsuit.

Kate took the picture from him and stared at it for a time before bringing her gaze back to Marc. “She considers this a gift?”

“Elsa considers herself a gift to all mankind.” He took the photo back and hid it away again behind the armoire before returning to Kate, maintaining some distance even though he wanted to kiss away her doubts. “She thought I would be interested enough to keep it as a reminder of our brief association. She was mistaken. I’ve meant to have Nicholas discard it, but I’ve not had the time with everything that’s been happening of late.”

“But you don’t deny you were lovers.”

“No, I cannot deny that.” He also couldn’t deny the jealousy in Kate’s tone, nor could he deny that on some level that pleased him.

She narrowed her eyes. “And there’s no way she could be Cecile’s mother?”

“There is as much chance of Elsa being a mother as there is a chance that her breasts are real.”

A hint of a smile teased at Kate’s full lips, but it didn’t quite form. “How can you be so sure?”

He offered his own smile, hoping to lighten the mood. “I happen to know when a woman has natural attributes.”

She frowned. “I meant about her not being Cecile’s mother.”

So much for his attempt at humor. “If Elsa had been pregnant, she would not have abandoned the baby. That much I know.”

“Then she’s not just another pretty ego?”

“Elsa is very self-absorbed and she would not risk an end to her modeling career with an unplanned pregnancy. She made it quite clear she never wanted any children. And if by some chance she’d chosen to have a baby, she would have turned it into a publicity campaign, especially if that baby were mine.”

Kate remained silent for a few moments as if attempting to digest the information. “Okay, I guess I believe you.”

She might as well have slapped him. “You guess? Have I not given you enough proof?”

“You’ve provided proof that Elsa probably isn’t Cecile’s mother. But I have the proof that odds are Cecile is either yours or Philippe’s child.”

As he’d suspected. “Then she has our blood type.”

“Yes. I confirmed the results with Dr. Martine.”

He saw mistrust in Kate’s eyes, and he hated that. “You must believe me when I tell you that Elsa was the last woman in my life for well over a year, and I have exercised the greatest care. The baby is not mine.”

“It doesn’t really matter what I believe.”

“It does to me.”

“Why?”

A difficult question, and one he had avoided asking himself. “Because you’re a very special person, Kate. I need you to trust me. I know that you hold the truth in very high esteem.”

Kate’s gaze faltered. “I’m not beyond telling a lie, Marc. In fact, I told one today. A big one.”

“You’ve lied to me?”

“Not you. Renault. When he came into the exam room, he started asking questions. I told him Cecile is my daughter.”

He could not have asked for a better plan. “That’s brilliant, Kate.”

“It is?”

“Yes. Perhaps now there won’t be any speculation in terms of Cecile’s parentage until someone comes forward with the truth.”

“ If someone comes forward.”

Marc did not foresee that happening, at least not soon. It would be up to him to clear his name. “I doubt that will be the case, but it’s still imperative that we find out who the mother is. Chances are, my perfect brother was not so perfect after all.”

She sent him a severe look. “Are you doing this for Cecile or for yourself? Do you want to prove that Philippe wasn’t as innocent as he seemed? And if you do that, how will it affect your family?”

Kate’s honesty threw Marc mentally off balance. He hadn’t considered how the truth might affect his mother if they proved Philippe was Cecile’s father. “I need to put this issue to bed once and for all, for everyone’s sake. How I’ll handle the rest remains to be seen. First, I must attempt to find out the mother’s identity.”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

He had no right to ask, but Kate was his only hope. “With your help.”

“My help?”

“I’m only asking that you keep your ears open for any gossip. Perhaps search the hospital’s records for any mysterious woman who gave birth six to eight months ago. The staff in the palace might be forthcoming with information about my brother since you’re—”

“A commoner.”

“Yes, in a manner of speaking.”

“Then you’re asking me to do a little investigating in my spare time.”

“Only if you feel comfortable in doing so.”

“As long as we’ve absolutely ruled out your lover.”

He took a step forward. “ Former lover. It’s over between us, Kate.”

She slowly ran a fingertip along the edge of the desk, fueling Marc’s all-consuming desire for her. “Obviously you still have something she wants.”

“She wants attention and not necessarily only from me.”

Kate leaned back against the desk, using her arms as a brace, thrusting her breasts forward, driving Marc to distraction. “Are you sure about that? She’s very vocal about your skills as a lover. So are you, Marc?”

A fool? A man too weak to resist her charms? “Am I what?”

“A skilled lover?”

Marc was only certain about one thing—he couldn’t ignore Kate’s query, asked in a sensual voice that threatened his control. Couldn’t ignore her simple black slacks and plain white blouse that would be easy to remove. Couldn’t ignore the tightness in his groin when she streaked her tongue over her lower lip.

“I do not make it a habit to speculate on my skill,” he said, clinging to his last strand of restraint.

“Maybe I should judge for myself.”

“You have no idea what you’re asking, Kate.” He did know all too well she recognized the power she had over him at that moment, and he found that incredibly hard to resist.

She swept her dark hair away from her face with one hand. “You’re wrong, Marc. I know exactly what I’m asking, and so do you. Does your expertise live up to the hype? Are you a good lover?”

“Good is an interesting term. Good only comes when you do not aspire to be great.”

“Do you aspire to be a great lover, Marc DeLoria?”

“I refuse to settle for mediocrity in any of my endeavors.”

She challenged him with a look, dared him with a sultry smile, enticed him with words when she said, “Then prove it.”

Marc was losing his tenuous hold on his common sense. He only knew that if he didn’t get away from Kate now, he would kiss her—deeply and without reservation. Touch her without hesitation. Without consideration of the consequences. He had no call to want her as much as he did. He had too much to consider in light of his position and too little to offer her beyond mutual pleasure. But he did want her, and he’d be damned if he had her—or damned if he didn’t.

Propelled by his weakness for this woman, Marc closed the distance between them in two strides and braced his palms on the desk on either side of her. He sought her mouth in a rush, as if he couldn’t survive without exploring the territory once more. She opened to him, played her tongue against his, pushed him to a point where he could easily dispense with all formality and clothing to get inside her immediately. But he rejected that notion. If he could touch her, taste her, tempt her, then that would be enough. It would have to be enough.