Good grief. Had she really expected him to be decked out in a jewel-encrusted crown and red velvet robe? That he would be clutching a scepter instead of a pair of sunglasses? Silly that she would even consider such a thing. But she’d expected he at least would be wearing an expensive suit, not attire that could be found in a chic women’s magazine ad extolling the virtues of cosmopolitan casual on hard-body hunks. Not that she was complaining.
When he came to a stop a few feet away, Kate was suddenly gripped by the sheer power of his presence, her pulse accelerating in response. She clung tightly to her composure when she contacted his piercing cobalt blue eyes—eyes that no longer held the mirth she had often witnessed during their previous time together. She saw something there that she couldn’t quite peg. She also sensed an edge about him, a definite change that went far beyond the physical aspects.
One thing Kate did know, he gave no indication whatsoever that he recognized her. But why should he? Kate had changed, too, hopefully for the better.
The attendant took a brusque step forward and executed a slight bow. “Dr. Milner, I am Bernard Nicholas, His Majesty’s primary aide.”
Kate had the illogical urge to salute—or curtsy. She opted for a smile. “A pleasure to meet you.”
Mr. Nicholas turned his attention to the silent, stoic king. “Your Majesty, may I present Dr. Katherine Milner, our latest candidate for the hospital position.”
Marc moved forward and extended his hand, which Kate took after a slight hesitation. “Welcome to Doriana, Dr. Milner, and please forgive my appearance. I wasn’t given much notice in regard to your arrival.”
His voice sounded much the way Kate remembered, European sophisticated and distinctly seductive, only deeper. Yet he didn’t look at all pleased, didn’t even hint at a smile. In fact, his courtesy seemed almost forced. Considering the early hour, and his unshaven face, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he’d just left the company of a woman, quite possibly a woman’s bed.
His extracurricular activities shouldn’t concern her. Yet the feel of his large masculine fingers wrapped around hers brought about a keen sense of awareness, the kind of awareness that came when confronted with a man she had been far too fond of. But Marc DeLoria was no ordinary man; he never had been. And obviously he had no recollection of their time together.
Kate decided he simply needed a reminder. “It’s very nice to see you again, Your Majesty.”
He released her hand and frowned, fine lines deepening at the corners of his eyes, but they didn’t detract from his magnificent face. “Have we met before?”
“Actually, the last time we were together, we were dissecting a deceased frog.”
Confusion worked its way into his sedate expression followed by a fleeting glimpse of the carefree charmer she had once known. “Katie? The tutor?”
Kate’s gaze faltered for a brief moment as she became the circumspect girl again. She forced away that notion, forced herself to look at him straight on. “Yes, that’s me. Katie, the tutor. But I prefer Kate now. Or Dr. Milner, if that’s more acceptable considering your current circumstance.”
“My current circumstance?”
He actually had to be reminded of that, too? “You’re a king.”
“Ah, yes. That circumstance.” He stared at her for a long moment, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was there. Kate couldn’t quite believe it, either.
After a bout of awkward silence, she finally said, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, quite a while.” Although his smile had yet to form, he at least looked a little less perplexed when he gestured to a nearby room. “Shall we conduct the interview in the library, Doctor?”
Obviously he had no intention of taking a walk down memory lane. “Of course.”
When Marc stepped to one side of the room’s entry, Kate passed by him and caught a whiff of fresh air and fragrant cologne—clean, expensive, heavenly. Even though she shouldn’t react so strongly, he still made her breathless. She’d always been that way to some degree in his presence.
Gathering her wits, Kate slowly turned around to survey the mahogany shelves lining the room. “This is quite a collection of books.”
“My mother’s favorites.” He indicated a small settee near the window. “Please, have a seat.”
Kate slid onto the green brocade sofa while Marc took the burgundy wingback chair across from her. When Mr. Nicholas positioned himself near the now-closed door, Marc told him, “That will be all.”
The man stood steadfastly in place like a sentry, shoulders square, feet slightly apart, hands behind his back. “Beg pardon, but I believe it would be best if I remained, considering our guest is a lady.”
“This is not the eighteenth century, Mr. Nicholas. You are dismissed.”
“The Queen Mother—”
“Would understand the need for privacy.”
“But—”
“I assure you that Dr. Milner’s virtue is not in peril.” Marc turned his attention to Kate. “Would you prefer not to be alone with me?”
She shrugged. “I don’t see it as a problem at all. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.” She secretly hoped it wouldn’t be the last.
Marc sent another warning look at the attendant. “Tell Madame Tourreau to bring Dr. Milner some refreshments.”
“As you wish, Your Reverence,” Mr. Nicholas said, then took his leave.
Kate turned her attention to Marc, who looked anything but pleased. “Your Reverence?”
“Please ignore Mr. Nicholas. He’s been with the family for quite some time and he has a penchant for making up titles. You should be flattered, though. Normally he doesn’t do this around strangers, unless he feels they might appreciate his extremely dry and somewhat annoying British sense of humor.”
“Oh, I see. It’s sort of a game between you two.”
“One game I would prefer not to play.”
Kate could only imagine the games he did like to play—sensual games—and she really wouldn’t mind playing them with him.
Business, Kate. No games, just business.
Marc crossed his legs at the ankles, his elbows resting on the chair’s arms, hands clasped across his midsection. “So tell me, Dr. Milner, how did you discover we’re seeking physicians in Doriana?”
Kate toyed with her hem, surprisingly drawing Marc’s gaze. Considering her disheveled state, he probably wondered if the royal cat had dragged her across the regal doorstep. Her lavender silk suit showed creases resulting from hours of travel. Her hair had lost every bit of its curl and now hung down in board-straight strands to her shoulders. When his gaze came to rest on her mouth, she assumed she had a pink lipstick smear across her teeth.
Kate resisted the urge to run a finger over her incisors. “I saw the story in the alumni newsletter, right after your coronation,” she said, pulling his attention back to her eyes. “You mentioned that your first order of business involved recruiting doctors, so I contacted the hospital, and now here I am. By the way, I was very sorry to hear about your brother’s car accident.”
She saw a flash of sadness in his eyes before it vanished as quickly as it had come. “Did you attend medical school at Harvard?”
Considering