Her Royal Baby by Marion Lennox

her hands behind her, she was pulled in hard against him, but whether or not it was to stop her striking him she didn’t know. She was past thinking of his intent. Her attention was fully on the contents of that dreadful letter. ‘Lara was frightened. She was in way over her head. Her husband was taking drugs. They were running with a crowd she couldn’t control. He was always drunk…’
    â€˜I know that.’
    His words shocked her. ‘You know it?’
    â€˜Jean-Paul was a mindless, arrogant twit,’ he said grimly. ‘He’d been overindulged since birth. He was an alcoholic by the time he was eighteen. If you’re thinking he changedafter your sister married him then think again. She knew exactly what she was getting into.’
    Tammy flinched. ‘Then why…?’
    â€˜Why did she marry him?’ Marc’s lips compressed into a smile that held no humour at all. He stared down at the ripped pieces of cheque littering the floor and shook his head. ‘Lara would never have done that.’
    â€˜Ripped your cheque?’
    â€˜Ripped anyone’s cheque. She and your mother… I remember them at the wedding. They thought they’d won the ultimate trophy. And all they’d won was Jean-Paul.’
    â€˜She’d won the chance to be a princess.’
    â€˜It came at a cost.’
    She was staring up at him, her breathing coming way too fast. He was still holding her, but absently. He didn’t know his own strength, she thought. He held her as if he could take on three of her.
    He probably could.
    â€˜Let me go,’ she breathed, and he stared down her, and his dark eyes glittered with something she didn’t understand.
    â€˜Will you hit me again?’
    â€˜Probably.’
    â€˜Then maybe I shouldn’t let you go.’
    â€˜You could just leave,’ she managed through gritted teeth. ‘That’d solve all our problems.’
    â€˜It wouldn’t solve anything.’ He stared down at her for a long moment. They were so close. She could feel his breath on her hair. She bit her lip and stared straight ahead—at the fine linen of his shirt. His top two buttons were unfastened and his throat was tanned. There was a trace of wisping hair on his muscled chest…
    The way her body was reacting was crazy, she thought frantically. She needed every ounce of concentration to focus on Henry, and yet this man had the ability to sidetrack her—to make her think about his body…
    Henry. She had to focus on Henry.
    â€˜What did your sister say?’ He put her away from him then, with a rough little gesture that made her stumble. His hands caught her again—as if he hadn’t meant to be so rough. He righted her as he’d right a doll, then stood back and watched her.
    â€˜I don’t have to tell you.’
    â€˜I can’t answer your allegations until I know what they are,’ he said bluntly. ‘I think it’s time for the truth. Don’t you?’
    â€˜I…’
    But she got no further. There was an urgent knock on the door, cutting through her attempt at speech.
    â€˜Damn,’ Marc said.
    Tammy didn’t move.
    â€˜Are you expecting someone?’ he demanded, but still she didn’t move.
    â€˜Is everything all right in there?’ It was a loud male voice, raised in authority. ‘Miss, can you open the door? We’ve had a report of violence.’
    Great. Security. Exactly what she needed. Tammy gave Marc a look that was almost triumphant and marched to the door. She swung it open to find two burly security guards on the other side.
    â€˜Miss Dexter?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    They looked past her to Marc, standing behind her. ‘Is this man bothering you?’
    Yes. She should say yes. She should have them drag him out of here so she could slam the door behind him and that would be that. They could speak to each other through their lawyers.
    â€˜We need