room. Does she have parents?”
“Of course she has parents. Didn’t they teach you in medical school that those old folktales about storks and cabbage patches aren’t true?”
Renault’s smile was cynical. “I assure you, Dr. Milner, I know all the workings of procreation. You have still not answered my question. To whom does this child belong?”
Think quick, Kate. “Actually, she belongs to me.”
Renault raised one bushy eyebrow. “Martine did not mention you have a child.”
“Well, I do, and this is her. Cecile.”
He stroked his pointy chin. “Ah, Cecile. A very fine French name. Is your husband French?”
“I don’t have a husband.” And that wasn’t a lie.
“The baby’s father, then?”
“He’s not in the picture.” An understatement in the first order.
Renault gave Kate a slimy visual once-over, fitting for a human slug. “I must say, you are in very fine shape given the age of this child. I admire you for that. In fact, I admire everything about you.”
Kate resisted telling him where to stuff his admiration. “Thank you.” She had to get away before he asked more questions. “I really need to get her home for her morning nap. But first, I have a few tests I need to run.”
“Is she ill?”
“No. Just routine labs.”
“I would be more than happy to assist you.”
“I believe Dr. Milner is quite capable of working alone, Renault.”
Kate turned to see Marc sporting a look that could wither the overhead light.
Renault didn’t look the least bit concerned over Marc’s presence or his sharp tone. “I am most certain, Your Highness, Dr. Milner is quite capable in all that she endeavors. I was simply trying to be accommodating.”
Marc balled his hands into fists at his sides. “She doesn’t need your assistance, I assure you.”
Renault turned back to Kate, bowed slightly and kissed Cecile’s hand. “You are a lovely girl, Cecile.”
Kate wanted to cheer when Cecile pulled her hand away and hid her face against Kate’s shoulder. Either she had stranger phobia or good instincts. Kate assumed the latter, considering she had taken to Kate, Marc and his mother without hesitation.
Before Renault passed Marc at the door, Marc told him, “You will practice the utmost in decorum where Dr. Milner is concerned or you will answer to me. Is that clear?”
Renault sent Kate a lecherous glance, then glared at Marc. “Quite clear, Your Majesty. I do not intend to tread on another man’s territory.”
With that, he was gone and Marc looked as if he could blow a fuse when he faced Kate again. “Did he do anything inappropriate?” he demanded.
Kate considered telling him about Renault’s intimations but decided to wait until later when she was assured they were alone. “His kind are a dime a dozen and I know how to handle them.”
“And you will tell me if he is the least bit out of line.” It wasn’t a request.
“I promise I’ll tell you if I have to hurt him.” She handed Marc the baby and smiled. “Now you go with your…king, Cecile, and I’ll be back later today.” She kissed the baby’s cheek one last time and reined in her urge to do the same to Marc. “Be a good girl, sweetie. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I’m certain she’ll look forward to your return.” Marc leaned toward Kate’s ear and whispered, “And so will I, so hurry.”
Then Marc left the room, leaving Kate standing alone in a state of confusion. Couldn’t Marc make up his mind? He was making her head spin with his no-we-can’t and yes-we-will attitude. He did want her; that was becoming apparent to Kate each time they were together. Yet he kept saying he couldn’t have her. But if Marc’s resistance completely waned, how far would she allow things to go, since she recognized it wouldn’t be more than a fling? Did she dare make love with him?
Yes. No question about it. She wasn’t looking for a knight’s rescue, only a night of incredible lovemaking. A little adventure. She wanted to experience true freedom in his arms without worrying about pleasing anyone aside from herself—and Marc DeLoria.
She shivered thinking about it, thinking about him, thinking about all the ways he could take her places she’d never been before.
Imagine that, making love with a king. Now if only the king would cooperate.
After Kate conducted the lab tests, Dr. Martine asked if she could possibly see some patients—minor cases, most involving common colds and well-baby checks. She agreed and was accompanied by a very nice Australian-born nurse named Caroline, who aided Kate in interpreting conditions of those who spoke only French or Castilian, and there were more than a few.
By that afternoon, Kate was high on adrenaline but still concerned about the language barriers. She made a mental note to get out the tapes and books to study when she had a spare minute. If she ever had a spare minute. She also needed to call home soon. She hadn’t spoken with her mother, hadn’t even told her that she’d accepted the position. Kate refused to perceive that as a problem. It was high time for her family to learn to live without her constant attention.
Fortunately, Renault had been scarce during the day, which was probably the reason why the clinic had been running so far behind, not that Kate had minded his absence or treating his patients. She’d welcomed rejoining the world of medicine—and avoiding confronting Marc with the knowledge she now held—the test results.
After arriving back at the palace, she waited in Marc’s private study with that knowledge while Mr. Nicholas summoned the king. It could be a while, Nicholas had told her, since Marc had gone out for a drive. Kate assumed this was Marc’s only means to relax—or to escape. And when he found out that Cecile shared his rare blood type, he might climb back into his coveted car and keep driving.
Kate milled around the office, pulling various books from the shelves, mainly from nervousness instead of real interest. Most involved business acumen, as far as she could tell, since all were written in French. Except for one well-worn English volume of Hamlet that looked as though it had been handed down through the generations. Ironic, Kate decided, since to be or not to be was definitely the question of the moment in terms of Marc’s possible parental ties to Cecile.
Yet he’d been so adamant he wasn’t Cecile’s father that Kate almost believed him. In some ways she still did, since she really had no reason not to take him at his word. She also knew that accidents happened, and unless Cecile’s mother came forward, they might never know the truth.
When the phone shrilled, Kate nearly jumped out of her functional black shoes. She waited while the phone rang again for someone to answer. Maybe she should answer it. It could be Marc’s private
