The Royal Wager: Persuading the Playboy King / Unmasking the Maverick Prince / Daring the Dynamic Sheikh

“I think you know something about Philippe DeLoria’s love life. Did he have a secret lover?”

Beatrice twisted the white apron she wore over her plain gray shift. “I could not say… I should not…”

“I have to know, Bea. This could help us find Cecile’s mother.”

The nanny glanced around the room like a frightened doe, then turned her attention to back to Kate. “If I tell you, will you vow not to tell the queen mother the information came from me? I have been sworn to secrecy when it comes to the royal family’s privacy.”

Kate raised her hand in oath. “I promise.”

After looking around the room once more, Beatrice leaned forward and whispered, “It was rumored he had a lover in one of the mountain villages, a peasant girl. I think I saw her once, in the guesthouse late at night. I was…” Her gaze faltered. “I was going for a walk with a friend in the gardens.”

Kate was curious about Beatrice’s little late-night rendezvous with the friend, but that wasn’t the main issue. “Can you describe her to me?”

“I could not see her.”

“Do you know her name? Even her first name would help.”

“No. I heard him call her mon amour. My love. That was all.”

And it was more information than they’d had to this point. Kate circled the counter and drew Beatrice into a quick hug. “Thank you, Bea. You’re the best.”

“And so are you, Dr. Kate. You bring joy to the household.”

If only that were true, Kate thought. At least where Marc was concerned. “Have you seen King DeLoria?”

“Bernard…” Beatrice blushed like the devil. “I mean Mr. Nicholas said that the king would be gone most of the day.”

Bernard and Beatrice. Maybe that mystery was solved. If only Kate could say the same for the mystery mother, and Marc’s activities over the past few days. Maybe he had found a lover in a mountain village. Kate burned over that thought.

“Could you have Mr. Nicholas tell the King I need to see him, Bea? I’ll be waiting in the guesthouse.”

“As you wish, Doctor.”

“Just Kate. I think we should be on a first-name basis now.”

Beatrice beamed as if Kate had offered her the queen’s palace suite. “I would like that very much, at least when we are in private. Otherwise, it would not be respectful.”

Kate shrugged. “That’s fine. I’ll see you later. And thanks for everything.”

With a newfound energy, Kate strode through the gardens, stopping to smell the roses lining the path. She skipped the last few yards like a schoolgirl and burst into the guesthouse, pulling up short when she found Marc sitting on the elegant wingback chair in the corner next to the white brick fireplace, looking dark and imposing against the pristine backdrop, and incredibly sexy in his faded jeans and black knit shirt.

“Where have you been?” His voice was low, demanding.

Kate refused to fall at his feet, although it was tempting. “What does it matter to you? You haven’t been all that concerned over my whereabouts for the past week.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“So have I.” She started to tell him about the conversation with Beatrice but words escaped her when he kept staring as if he really wanted to get her naked. And she really wanted to let him.

But first and foremost, she had to maintain some control in his presence. His recent rejection still stung and she needed to resist him.

“Why are you here?” Her timid voice betrayed her conviction.

“You need to accompany me on a drive,” he said.

She snapped her fingers. “Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“I’m supposed to drop everything?” Her clothes immediately came to mind.

“It would be in your best interest to accompany me.”

Of all the arrogant kings. “And what if I don’t?”

At least this time she sounded more confident. But Kate’s confidence scattered when Marc came to his feet slowly, his eyes burning holes in her fake bravado. He stalked toward her until he stopped immediately in front of her, so close she could trace the outline of his Adam’s apple. “Do you really wish me to show you what I’ll do if you do not agree?”

Kate dared him with a look. “If you think you’re man enough.”

Proving he was very much a man—a Cro-Magnon man—Marc grabbed her and tossed her over his shoulder, then headed out the open door. He took away her breath when he set her in the all-terrain vehicle and slid his tongue across her lower lip. Then he took away her sight when he covered her eyes with a strip of white cloth, brushing one breast with a fingertip after he was done.

As ridiculous as it seemed, Kate didn’t care what he did as long as he eventually removed the blindfold—and anything else he cared to remove.

So much for resisting him.

Eight

“How much farther?”

“It won’t be long now.”

Marc glanced at Kate, who seemed extremely sedate for someone wearing a blindfold. Although the pastoral terrain offered a panoramic view, the less she knew of their destination, the better. He wanted to save the full effect of the scenery for when she first encountered four thousand square feet of natural wood structure, set among ancient forests and majestic mountains, miles from any significant population, at least during the summer, before the arrival of snow.

He intended to use the remainder of the weekend to treat Kate as she deserved to be treated, to make love to her undisturbed in a real bed in the glow of firelight. To tell her what he was feeling. As far as Marc was concerned, his own private retreat would aid in accomplishing that goal, if Kate chose to cooperate.

After pulling into the narrow drive, Marc shut off the Hummer and opened his door. “We’re here.”

“Where is here?”

When Kate reached for the knot on the cloth, he told her, “Do not take that off yet.”

She wrinkled her upturned nose. “Why not?”

He leaned over and whispered, “Because I want to remove it.” He anticipated taking off more than the blindfold before evening’s end.

After sliding from the seat, he rounded the vehicle then helped her out. The afternoon sun enhanced the chestnut highlights in her hair and, when he untied the cloth, illuminated her deep green eyes that revealed surprise and something he couldn’t quite name, but it almost resembled anger.

Without speaking, she surveyed the pines surrounding the lodge for a few moments then climbed the steps leading to the porch that spanned the length of the building. She faced him again, her hands clasped behind her back as she rocked on her heels. “This must be the infamous cabin.”