KRISTI GOLD - A Royal Wager - Persuading the Playboy King / Unmasking the Maverick Prince / Daring the Dynamic Sheikh

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.

Kate only got as far as the door when Marc slammed his palm against the facing, preventing her from opening it. “I need you to understand, Kate.”

She turned and saw a pain in his eyes that stole her breath. “I do understand, Marc, more than you give me credit for. I just can’t stand the thought of you throwing in the towel. You can’t back down now, not when you have so much to lose.”

“Right now, I would gladly walk away, but you’re right. I owe it to my country to fight. I owe it to Philippe’s memory.”

“You owe it to yourself, Marc. This is only a temporary situation. We’ll get through it together. We’re both strong enough, and we’re a good team.”

He touched her face with tenderness. “I don’t know what I have done right in this lifetime to have you on my side, especially after the way I’ve treated you of late. And I am sorry for that.”

“I know. I also know you’re a good man with a huge burden to bear. And you’ll be a good father to Cecile. She needs you, too, even if she’s not your child.”

“And I need you. More than you realize.”

Kate waited to experience the suffocation, the resentment of someone needing her. It didn’t come.

She doubted Marc was inclined to ask for help very often—partly from pride and partly from trying to prove he could go it alone. The admission seemed to be costing him a lot, evident in the uneasiness in his expression. And if she could help him, she would. She loved him that much.

“I’m here for you, Marc.” At least for now. “But you have to let down your guard and let me in.”

He tipped his forehead against hers. “You’re the only sanity in my life, Kate, and I want you so badly at times it hurts. That’s why I’ve avoided you, knowing that every time I look at you…touch you…every time…”

He kissed her then—a passionate kiss that exposed his desperation, his need, causing the carpeted floor to sway beneath Kate’s feet. Without breaking the kiss, Marc spun her around and guided her back until she felt the desk nudge her bottom. He pressed against her, letting Kate know exactly how much he needed her, setting her senses on maximum alert and sending her pulse on a sprint. He slid his hands over her body, from shoulders to hips and then back up to fondle her breasts through her beige silk blouse.

He undid her slacks and slipped his hand inside, touching her as if starved for the intimate contact. He made her body weep with every caress of his fingertips, made her give everything over to the sensations he evoked so masterfully. Kate trembled from the onslaught of feelings, from the love she’d kept hidden from him and probably always would.

Before the climax completely took hold, Marc took his hand away yet kept his mouth mated firmly with hers. She didn’t have to ask what he was doing when she heard the metallic sound of his belt buckle release and the track of his zipper.

They shouldn’t do this, Kate thought. Not here, not now, not without…

Marc pushed her slacks and underwear to her thighs then pushed into her with a hard thrust. Her body responded with an all-consuming climax that nearly brought her to her knees, saved only by Marc’s hold on her. Her mind now trapped in a carnal web, Kate could no longer think coherently as Marc set a frantic rhythm, his hands molded to her bottom, pulling her closer, moving in deeper and deeper.