26 Hours in Paris (22 page)

R
elief flooded over Kat when she saw Antoine's large frame behind the counter at the
boulangerie
. He offered a cookie to a toddler and wrapped a baguette for the young woman accompanying the little boy. Kat tossed too much cash at the driver, thanked him, and bounded out of the taxi and into the bakery.

“I'm so happy you're still here,” she called, pushing on the glass door and storming into the fragrant shop. Practically hurdling over the young boy, Kat walked around the counter and didn't give a shit about observing local tradition. She wrapped her arms around the big man and buried her face in his chest.

“Kathryn, everything will be okay,” Antoine assured, cupping the back of her head and holding her close. “Welcome home,
ma chère
.”

“Marko isn't answering his phone. All calls go directly to voicemail. I tried texting when we landed, but he hasn't even read it yet.”

“Shhh,
chère.
He is all right. Look at me.” He cupped her face and lifted her chin. “You are the best medicine for him—”

“Is he hurt?” Sobs clogged her throat and tears marked her cheeks.

“
Non
.” Antoine shook his head, a cautious look in his eyes. “Not physically. However, his cousin Martine has been hurt. He has been with her since Saturday.”

“Take me to them.” Her voice was demanding. She regretted her abrupt tone, lowered her gaze, and apologized for being rude. “I'm sorry, Antoine. Please. I need to be with him. You must take me to him immediately. If Martine is hurt, Marko is hurting. He must be devastated. He loves her.”

“I know,” Antoine agreed, removing his apron and hanging it on a peg. He spoke to the counter girl, gave her permission to close early, then tossed her a set of keys and asked for her to lock up behind them. “
Allons-y, Kathryn
,” he said, much to her relief. “Martine is at the American Hospital of Paris. Her condition is critical, but she has the country's best doctors working on her. Marko has not left the hospital, other than for ten minutes last night when he called you.” Antoine spoke in a low and deliberately calming voice.

There was more to it and she knew it. Antoine was sharing information with extreme caution, and Kat was hesitant to press him further, but she needed the facts. “What is wrong with Martine?”

He drew air between his teeth, and his fingers gripped the steering wheel so hard, the tips went white. His Adam's apple bobbed, and his eyes gleamed with moisture. Tension sucked the oxygen from the air. She wanted to cover her ears and drown out all the bad in the world. Blinking back more tears, she closed her hands into determined fists, digging her fingernails into her palms.

“Please, Antoine. I must know what is happening. Please.”

Nodding, he raised his left hand to his eye and made to rub the corner. “Martine was in a very bad accident. As I said, her condition is critical. She is a strong girl, and she is fighting hard. The injuries are severe.”

A sense of déjà vu washed over Kat. Her skin prickled with remembrance. Her eyes stung and her vision blurred, but she swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “What kind of injuries?”

“She has numerous broken bones and fractures. Her liver was damaged, and she lost a lot of blood. A long surgery stopped the internal bleeding. She's had five blood transfusions so far. Her face is so bruised and swollen you can't recognize her.
Martine, une jolie petite ange, est tellement mal
.”

“Her brain?” Kat asked in a tiny whisper.

“Cerebral edema,” he confirmed solemnly. “The doctors placed her in an induced coma—”

“No,” she cried, covering her face and shaking her head. Her face burned and her chest ached. Not again. This couldn't happen to Martine. “No, no, no.”

Antoine pulled the car to the side of the road. Engaging the hand brake, he rubbed a soothing hand over her shaking shoulders and down her spine as she sobbed. “This is not your papa,
ma chère
. Martine is improving. The little angel has responded well to the therapy. The doctors are gathering at this very moment and considering waking her.”

“When?” She looked up at him, biting her lip and praying.

“It could be at any time. The whole family is there. No one has called yet.”

She pressed a palm to her chest and took a deep breath. “Just give me two minutes to compose myself. I need to be there for Marko. He's been exposed to such trauma before, and seeing his cousin like this must be torture for him. He was there when my daddy passed. He saw it all.”

“That is why he wanted to protect you from this tragedy,” Antoine explained.

“I don't want his protection. I want to support him. To let him know I'm there for him, no matter what.” She lifted her chin and dried her tears. Rummaging in her bag, she retrieved her computer and stowed it under the seat, pulling the floor mat over it. She also pulled out eye drops and a pack of gum. “Two minutes,” she repeated, leaning her head back and holding the drops over her eyes.

* * *

The crisp scent of antiseptic turned her stomach, but Kat squared her shoulders walked down the white corridor toward a family gathered at the end. She saw him before he spotted her, and her heart ached for the man who turned from shaking the doctor's hand to wrapping his arms around the weeping family huddled beside him. He was nodding, speaking to them, and holding the family together. The support he offered was visible.

Marko looked up and met her gaze. Alarm flashed in his eyes. Shaking his head, he said something to the two older men and walked to meet her before she could make it to the end of the corridor.

Dark circles rimmed eyes that appeared sunken. Stress stretched over his forehead and marked his jaw. His hair was messed and his overall disheveled appearance attested to his lack of sleep. Reaching them, he pulled Kat into his arms and held her tight. Placing a kiss on the side of her head, he turned to Antoine. “Why did you bring her here?”

“Because I asked him to,” Kat answered, spreading her fingers over the side of his face and turning him to look at her. “I'm here now.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek. Bringing her mouth to his ear, she whispered, for only him to hear, “Lean on me, my love. Trust me, Marko.”

He inhaled and his chest rose against her, filling her with encouragement and reassurance. Cupping her face, he sealed his mouth to hers, and she shared her strength and love with ardor and dedication. Color tinged his pale features, and she smiled up at him as he stared at her as if she were a ghost. “
Je t'aime, bella
.”

“I love you, too,
bello
.”

“How is Martine?” Antoine asked, his stance anxious.

“They weaned her off the ventilator and medicines this morning. She did very well. They removed the tube, and she's been breathing on her own since noon. They stopped the coma-inducing medication, too. She has not woken up yet, but the doctor I just spoke with is confident she will be awake soon. His team has been observing Martine all day. Her mother and father are with her now.” He looked back over his shoulder, then took Kat's hand. “Come. We need to be with the family.”

Determined to be his rock, she laced her fingers in his and pressed her shoulder along his arm. Marko leaned on her. She released a long breath.

An elegantly dressed woman wiped a handkerchief across her cheeks and watched them approach. She stretched her arms out to Kat, and when she walked into them, the woman kissed her lovingly on both cheeks.

“I am Angelique and this is Marcel.” She reached for the hand of a very handsome gentleman, a vision of what she imagined Marko would look like in the future, with more salt than pepper hair. She placed Kat's hand in Marcel's big palm. Kissing her gently on the cheek, he closed his fingers around her hand and pulled it to his heart. “This is not how we wanted to meet you, my dear girl, but family comes together in good and bad. I welcome you with all my love.”

“Thank you, madame—

“
Non. Je suis maman
.” She held up a dainty hand and tossed the objection to the air, making it a fact.

Kat glanced at Marko, and he was actually smiling, with more color in his handsome face than before. Her heart swelled with love, and in spite of the circumstances, she met his smile.

“
Oui. Maman
,” Kat agreed.

“
Et je suis papa
,” Marcel said, gathering her in an embrace and kissing the top of her head. “
Merci, mon fils.
” He thanked his son. “I have always wanted a daughter.”

“Maman is right. This is not the setting I would have chosen to introduce Kathryn, but I am very glad she came.” Marko placed his hands on her shoulders, and she reached up and took one in her hand. No matter how loved and welcomed she felt, this moment wasn't about her and she couldn't relax yet. It was time for her to help her man with this heavy load. She was there to offer him the support he needed.

“From what I've heard, Martine is a fighter. She will surprise everyone with how fast she gets well.” Kat glanced at Antoine, who was standing alone and looking through the window. His shoulders were tense and his jaw hard. He didn't take his eyes off the sleeping woman.

“With Kathryn here, Martine will wake twice as fast. That meddling little cousin of mine wouldn't want to miss any of the action,” Marko added, gaining a soft laugh from his mother and father.

“
C'est vrai
,” his mom said.

“Very true,” his dad repeated.

The family filtered in and out of Martine's room, taking turns speaking to her. When Marko had gone in to Martine, Kat asked Antoine if he wanted to go with her to bring back some coffee and juice. He shook his head and lowered to whisper in her ear. “I'm sorry, Kathryn. I want to be here when she wakes up.”

“I understand,” she replied, giving him a knowing smile, then turned to the family. “I'm going downstairs to get some drinks. Any special requests?”

“We will go together, my child,” Marcel insisted, collecting everyone's order and offering her his arm. As they walked down the long corridor, he covered her hand and curled it over his forearm. “We will have a proper celebration for you and Marko when Martine is well. The whole family together.”

* * *

Marko rested his elbows on his knees, watching for his father to return with Kat. When he saw the red wrap at the end of the hall, he exhaled in relief. He needed to know she was okay and near. He didn't know how, but his strong and beautiful Kat had come to this place, a place he knew she hated with a passion, for him. He was so tired, so worried, and he couldn't do anything to make things better.

Wake up, Martine. I have someone for you to meet, you noisy little brat. Wake up,
he thought, massaging his fingers over his forehead.

The family was sitting on the Spartan metal chairs, sipping their drinks and sharing colorful stories of Martine's spunk, and Antoine sat guard at her bedside. Then, suddenly, Martine opened her eyes.

T
he elevator stopped and Kat followed Marko to the bedroom. The toll of the last few days was evident in his stride, but he held his shoulders and chin high in a gallant display of strength. She ached to tell him that he could lean on her, let her help, but words appeared so insignificant in the big scheme of things.

The T-shirt she'd worn while lazing around on Saturday morning was still lying on the chair, and everything else also seemed exactly the same.

“I gave the housekeeper the week off,” Marko said, taking her coat and tossing it over the T-shirt. Considering how meticulous he was in all aspects of his life, his coat landing atop hers surprised her. She walked up to Marko, who was sitting on the ottoman removing his shoes. “I wanted to keep everything like it was last weekend—when you were here.”

“When was the last time you were home?” Kat asked. She instinctively knew his answer, but logic said it couldn't be.

“With you,” he replied. “I couldn't leave Martine alone until I knew she would make it.” His shoulders fell a little, and suddenly the confident and self-assured man looked exhausted. The stress carved on his face was easy to read. She wanted to wipe it away and start over. To see the proud fire in his eyes and the determined set of his mouth. Instead, he sat before her tired and vulnerable, exposed to the hurt and trauma he'd had to pull his family through. And he had. Marko had been a pillar of reason and strength for the family, consulting with the doctors, relaying the family's wishes, and doing everything in his power to see his cousin recover.

Without fail, Marko did what was needed, regardless of the personal cost.

Reaching down, she cupped his face and brushed her lips over his mouth. “I wish I could wave a magic wand and make everything okay. I want to press rewind and go back to Friday, then start all over again so we could stop Martine from coming to Paris.”

“No one could have stopped Martine from doing what she wanted. Ever. She insisted on visiting. She wanted to meet me at the café on Saturday before you arrived so she could pump me for information. We had a rendezvous for three o'clock. Her curiosity was piqued. She wanted to know every detail about our personal life and where the relationship was going. She wanted to meet you before the rest of the family.” He shook his head, smiling and caressing the side of her thigh. “As for Friday, it was perfect. Friday, you arrived. I would never change that.”

“Friday was amazing—even if you orchestrated the whole event,” she admitted.

“Sue me,” he said, echoing their friends' words as a smile cracked his features. “The truth is, I'd planned to come to you earlier, but the work situation kept spiraling out of control. The timeline was altered, and I needed to make a decision earlier than anticipated. I wanted to make that decision with you. I want my future with
you
.”

His words melted her heart. She smoothed her fingers over his temple and through his hair, needing to show him that their relationship was a two-way street. “I also want my future with you. But I don't ever want you to send me away like that again.”

“I had to,” he said, standing and turning his back to her. He shucked off his shirt and unbuckled his belt. “The last thing I wanted was you with me.”

“Marko,” she gasped, hurt pulsing inside her. He didn't want her when he needed her. He'd sent her away, like a disposable inconvenience.

“You don't understand,” he insisted, jamming his fingers through his hair and staring at her with a desperate look. “It was all happening again. The same exact thing. A drunk driver. Martine's life hanging by a thread. She was rushed into surgery to stop the internal bleeding. We all gave blood, but that wasn't enough. Her brain kept swelling, and they had to place her in a coma. She was on life support, just like your dad.”

Her legs went limp, but she managed to drop to the ottoman. She hid her face in her hands, and struggled to take in air.

“That's right. A fucking machine needed to breathe for her,” he rasped, resurrecting images of her father being hooked up to machines and tubes she'd long buried. Her father had not woken up. They'd taken him off life support and the monitors had stopped.

“You needed me,” she said in a strained voice, no longer the girl who had fallen apart after the last beep had sounded. She stood and reached for him, placing a hand on his forearm. “I should have been with you.”

“I couldn't let you relive the painful memories of your father's death. And I couldn't relive the pain of you running from me.”

She'd done exactly that, and because of her past, he didn't trust her.

“You lost your father. Your mom lost her husband. The world lost a good man too early.” Marko pulled away, shutting his eyes and closing her out. “
I lost you
. I can't lose you again. Instead of giving you the opportunity to run, I sent you away with the intention of coming for you when it was over. You shouldn't have come back. But now you're here. I'm not letting you run again.”

He turned and walked toward the en suite bathroom, leaving her chilled and angry. “This isn't going to work if you don't trust me,” she called to his back. “You can't protect me from living life.”

“It's not you I don't trust,” he answered, not looking back.

Fuck! She was so damn stupid. He needed her and all she did was whine about her needs. That strong and beautiful man had chinks in his armor.

He turned on the shower and the mirrors steamed. Kat entered the room and watched as Marko stepped into the oversized glass shower. He rested his chin on his chest, and rubbed the back of his neck as the water beat down on it. He stood there, not moving, not washing, just standing.

Shedding her clothes, she stepped in behind him and ran her hands over his back. “I'm not running.”

His shoulders rose as he took a deep breath, and she wrapped her arms around his chest and pressed her cheek to his wet skin. “I need you as much as you need me. You'll never send me away again, and I'll never run again. I'm done running,
bello
.”

He turned in silent acknowledgement and cupped her face. His dark gaze studied her face as desire built between them. His hard chest heaved against her soft breasts, and he pressed his erection against her belly. “Those are my favorite words, ever.”

“Okay,” she cooed, stretching around him and reaching for the shower gel. “Let me care for you.”

She squeezed the soap onto a sponge and he closed his eyes. She caressed over his shoulders and down his chest, feeling the tension ebb from his muscles with each lathered touch of her fingertips on the edge of the sponge. Taking her time, she washed every inch of his gorgeous body, and dropped lingering kisses on the sculpted perfection.

The flavor of her man and the way his skin prickled beneath her lips had her yearning to claim him as hers immediately. But the feel of his fingers sinking into her flesh and the roll of the guttural groans from his chest steeled her resolve to make the moment last. She didn't want the feelings to end.

Prolonging the agony, her aching nipples brushed over his chest as she stretched up and washed his hair. Working the shampoo into a sudsy crown, she massaged his scalp and kissed the lids of his closed eyes. Pleasure spread through her while Marko simply stood and accepted what she offered. He didn't try to control her movements, didn't alter her pace, just waited for her to act.

She eventually guided his head back and swept the suds away from his forehead and down his back. A smile eased the stress lines on his face. Running a finger over the stubble on his jaw, she smiled back. She smoothed down the corded lines over the side of his neck and settled a kiss above his collarbone. Trailing her tongue to his chest, she made small circles around one nipple and licked at the flat, dark sphere until it pebbled and she sucked it into her mouth.

Relishing the bumps beneath her fingertips, she moved her mouth to the other nipple and nipped at the edges until she burned with the need to taste all of him. She lapped at the water sluicing over his chest and followed the rivulets that flowed into the dark trail of hair below his belly button.

“You're killing me,” he rasped.

“I need you,” she replied, her giving turning into possession.

She knelt between his legs, suckling gently along the heavy shaft. With one hand, she cupped his balls and stroked her thumb over the base of his erection. With the other, she pumped the smooth hardness of his length, following her grip with her lips until she licked at the intoxicating drop at the very tip.

Fitting her lips around the erect cock, she circled her tongue over the smooth head and felt, swelling within her chest, the pang of desire to take everything he had to give her, to have him lose control and take his pleasure in her mouth like he never had before. She sucked hard, stealing his ability to insist on a shared release as he had last time. The power of staking her claim on him rushed over her, burning in her body and pulsing between her legs.

Alternating between stroking and licking up his shaft, she rose to the right height to take him further into her mouth. Relaxing her lips, she curled her hands around his hips and buried her fingers in the taut flesh of his ass. She pulled and sucked him deep, moaning in pleasure as he stroked the back of her throat.

Marko's fingers tangled in her hair. He cupped the back of her head and thrust into her mouth, sliding over her tongue, taking her mouth like nothing else mattered. “Fuck, Kat. I can't. I can't fight it. I'm going to come.”

Triumph thrummed through her. She increased the pressure of her lips and squeezed his ass. His cock swelled and jerked, spilling his release down her throat as she swallowed furiously to take every drop. He was hers. All of him. Claimed and possessed. Marko was hers. Everything he had to offer.

He released his hold on her hair and leaned a hand on the wall. His other hand cupped her faced and tilted it up. He didn't speak, but she saw everything he had to say.

She licked his taste from her lips, then placed a soft kiss on the side of his groin. “I love you,” she breathed. “Thank you.”

He groaned and somehow managed to pull her up and against his body. He lifted her off her feet and wrapped her legs around his waist. Turning off the water, he grabbed a towel and draped it over her curved back. He dried them off as much as possible, considering she kept her face nestled in the crook of his neck and their wet bodies remained linked the whole time, and then he carried her to bed.

Placing her gently on the mattress, he detached himself from her grasp, and swept her wet hair off her face. Tapping the towel on her front, he smiled down at her. “I lost control in there.”

“I know,” she acknowledged impishly. “I loved it.”

He laughed and brushed his mouth over her lips. “I love you.”

Sweeping the towel quickly over his torso, he dropped it on the floor and climbed into bed beside her. She turned her back to him and fit her body against his.

He gathered her against his chest and closed his lips on her neck in a long, wet kiss. With an arm across her breast and a hand between the juncture of her legs, he slid two fingers between her swollen folds and plunged them into her pulsing core. He pressed his palm tight against her and rubbed her clit.

“I'm not done yet,” he breathed against her ear.