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

Like she would really try to seduce him in her current state. Her suit was wrinkled, her hair was a mess and her bra cut into her like steel fingers. Whoever invented push-up braziers should be bound at the wrists and ankles by underwire for at least forty-eight hours.

And Marc, with his suave sophistication and the wind blowing his golden hair away from his face, could easily pass as a sexy super spy like James Bond. Kate could be his girl of the month and sidekick, Roadkill. Yeah, he would definitely be interested in that scenario.

Marc pulled up to the curb in front of the inn and put the car in park. They were immediately joined by two other black vehicles, one in front, one in back.

Marc glanced in the rearview mirror and muttered, “For once, I wish they would leave me the hell alone.”

“I’m sure they’re only concerned for your safety.”

“I seriously doubt any dissidents are waiting inside the hotel on the off chance that I might pay a visit in the middle of the night. They seem to forget that for most of my adult life, I’ve seen to my own welfare.”

“But that was before you were king.”

“And that seems like decades ago.” He shifted in the seat to face her. “I want to thank you again, Kate.”

She dislodged the rest of her wind-blown hair from her face and stared at him. “You’re welcome, but I didn’t really do anything.”

“Don’t underestimate your assistance. I’m not certain my mother would have managed the situation quite as well had you not been there.”

Kate noted the weariness in his tone and in his eyes. “What do you think will happen now? With the baby, I mean.”

“Right now, I’m too bloody tired to worry about it.” He brushed one stubborn strand of hair away from her face. “I’m sure you’re exhausted, too, although you look very beautiful at the moment.”

Kate’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No. I’m very serious.”

That dog don’t hunt, Kate thought, her grandfather’s favorite saying. She would do well to remember that Marc DeLoria was a master of seduction, and obviously desperate if he considered her beautiful when she was sporting the results of wind-wrecked hair and an infantile food fight.

Desperate? Ha! His little black book was probably as big as her Physicians’ Desk Reference . In fact, he’d probably utilized this very hotel for clandestine affairs.

“I’ve never been at this inn before,” he said, as if challenging her assumption.

Kate studied the red brick building’s facade and the flower boxes framing the windows to avoid his continued scrutiny. “It has old-world charm, Your Highness.” Marc wasn’t suffering in the charm department, either.

“Kate, as long as we’re in private, you may call me Marc.”

Her gaze snapped from the building to him. “What if I slip up at some point in time?”

He grinned, revealing his drop-dead gorgeous dimples. “Then it’s off with your head.”

Kate circled her hands around her throat. “Maybe I should just stick to Your Highness. Hard to treat patients without a head.”

He looked suddenly solemn. “Seriously, I would appreciate you calling me Marc. I could use a friend.”

She could use some strength. “Okay, Marc. I’ll be your friend.”

“Thank you.”

He looked so appreciative, so sincere, so darned sexy that Kate had the strongest urge to lean over and kiss him senseless.

Party’s over.

Kate needed to go upstairs, take a bath and crawl into bed. Alone. Before she did something really stupid, like convince herself that he might actually find her desirable not only as a friend, but also as a lover. How absurd. “Thanks for the ride. I can manage from here.”

“Nonsense.” He moved with the speed of a cougar as he slid out of the car and rounded the hood before she even had a chance to draw a breath.

Kate stared at him when he opened her door, afraid to move, to speak.

“Well?” he asked. “What are you waiting for?”

Her pulse to return to normal. “Really, I can see myself in.”

His grin outshone the moon. “And disobey the king?”

“Since you put it that way, I guess I’ll have to submit or risk the gallows.”

Obviously she had already lost her head for letting him escort her. Only to the lobby, she reminded herself. She would say goodbye then go upstairs alone.

Marc followed Kate into the red-carpeted vestibule absent of people except for the forty-something man sitting behind the registration desk, looking totally disinterested in the king and his entourage’s sudden arrival. Had Marc told her the truth, or was his appearance at the inn a common occurrence?

She was too worn out to contemplate that now. She needed sleep. When she turned to dismiss Marc, he asked, “Do you have your room key?”

She fumbled in her bag, withdrew the key and held it up. “Right here, so I’m all set. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He took the key from her hand, easy as pie. “I’ll see you to your room.”

Of all the sneaky sovereigns. Maybe she should summon a bodyguard for her own protection. Not that Marc seemed like the kind to do her bodily harm. But he could certainly do things to her body that she’d never before experienced, that much she knew. He’d been doing it all day without even touching her.

“I can make it to my room just fine.” Kate tried to recover the key but before she could, he quickly tucked it into his pants pocket. She didn’t dare try to go after it, since rifling in the king’s pocket would probably be the ultimate breach in etiquette. Mighty fun, though.

Taking her by the elbow, Marc guided Kate up the staircase. Once they reached the room, he faced her and said, “Are you afraid of me, Kate?”

“Of course not.” She was more afraid of herself and her own vulnerability where he was concerned.

“You have no need to be.” He held up his hands, palms forward. “I promise my intentions are honorable.”

“That’s too bad.” Who said that? Surely not Kate the Crusader—able to thwart all come-ons with a single put-down. But he hadn’t been coming on to her at all. Maybe subconsciously she was wishing he had. What else could explain her suggestive remark?

Leaning forward, closing the space between their faces, he said, “In what way would that be bad?”

“I was just spouting off, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” he repeated in a rough, seductive whisper.

That wasn’t all, Kate thought as he came closer and closer, in slow motion it seemed, his lips only inches from hers.

She wanted this so badly. Wanted to feel his mouth on hers, wanted to know that he did see her as more than a physician, more than a friend. Know that the thought of his being her lover wasn’t absurd after all.

But instead of kissing her, Marc framed her face in his palms and tipped his forehead against hers. “We can’t do this, Kate.”

She glanced to her right to see one bodyguard positioned at the landing, facing the descending stairs. “I understand. We have an audience.”

“It’s not only that. Nothing can happen between us.”

Kate lowered her eyes at the same moment her heart took a dive. “I know. I’m not exactly suitable.”

“You’re wrong.” He tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “You are a beautiful, remarkable woman, Kate. And it would be incredibly easy to kiss you right now, to back you into your room, remove all your clothing and make love with you all through the night. But because of who I am, I don’t have that luxury. I still have too much to prove.”

“What do you have to prove?”

“That I’ve not bedded every woman from Belize to Great Britain.”

“You haven’t?”