Six Of The Best Of Desire 2016

Twelve

The excitement of the fans at the home Hurricanes game was dwarfed in comparison to the buzz going on in the owners’ box.

Erika sat against the leather chair, taking it all in, her heart in her throat after the way she’d left things with Gervais last night. But the way he made her feel scared her down to her toes. He made her want too much at a time when she had to be more careful than ever about protecting her heart and her future.

Gramps Leon called out to the Mitras clan. “Did Erika tell you how the Reynauds came into their fortune?”

“No, Leon, she hasn’t shared much of anything with us. We’d love to know. American origin stories are so fascinating,” Hilda said darkly, shooting her a daggered look across the spread of shrimp gumbo and decadent brownies. Erika rolled her eyes, moving closer to the glass to get a look at the field. Somehow, this game she had disliked so much was starting to make sense to her.

“Grampa Leon, we all know that story,” Fiona said with a light laugh, her hands wringing together. She was nervous but Erika couldn’t tell why.

“Yes, but the beautiful princesses and queen haven’t. And they want to. Who am I to deny them that?” he said with a wink at Hilda, whose face was already turning into a toothy grin.

“It was a high-stakes poker game. My surly old Cajun ancestor was sweating as he stared at his hand of cards. The stakes were incredibly high, you see,” Gramps Leon began, leaning on his knees.

“What were the stakes, Leon?” Queen Arnora asked, on her best behavior, since Erika had been emphatic with her mother that histrionics would not be tolerated. The babies were Erika and Gervais’s, not potential little royal pawns.

Arnora had vowed she simply wanted to bond with their expanding family and was thrilled over impending grandparenthood.

“If my riverboat grandpa won, he would get a ship out of the deal. But if he lost, he would have to sign a non-compete. And stay working for the tyrant captain who kept him away from home for months on end. Needless to say, the cards laid out right for him and he won the first ship in the fleet. The Reynaud family empire was born. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers, eyes alight with a new audience to entertain. “The rest is history. The family has been successful ever since. Especially my grandboys.”

King Bjorn inclined his head. “You feel responsible for your grandchildren’s success?”

“Yessir, King Bjorn. I’m proud of all of those boys. Feel like I practically raised them myself. Though I kind of did,” Gramps Leon wheezed, eyes drifting to Theo, who shrank in the back corner, “My son almost made it big...eh. No matter. My grandboys did. That’s what matters in the end.”

Erika watched as Theo fidgeted with his drink, balling up a cocktail napkin in his right fist. She knew he hadn’t been the best father, but a small part of her felt sympathy for him.

“And what did all your grandchildren do?” Arnora asked lightly, swirling the champagne in her glass.

Erika had often wondered how her mother had such ease with others but not as much with her children. Her mom took her role as a royal, a liaison to the world, seriously. Erika looked around at the Reynaud family and saw their bond, but not only that. She saw their relaxed air. The way they kept life...real. Connected. She wanted that for her children, as well.

And yet she’d pushed her babies’ father away the night before out of fear of living like her parents.

Gramps Leon’s dark eyes gleamed with pride and affection. “Well, you know Gervais bought his own team. I figure they’ll make it big soon the way that boy works. And Dempsey is the youngest coach in the league’s history. Henri is already a franchise quarterback looking for his first championship ring. Even Jean-Pierre is doing good things as a quarterback for that northern Yankee team. Where is he again?”

Theo cleared his throat. “New York. Jean-Pierre is the starting quarterback for the New York Gladiators.” Pride pierced his words, and he lifted his eyes to meet Leon’s. So he did care, Erika thought. It was just masked.

She wished it was that easy to tell what was going on with Gervais. Nothing he’d said so far betrayed any level of an emotional depth. Just sex. But that wasn’t enough for her. And that was the reason she hadn’t been able to help but pull away the night before.

Last night when she’d gone to him, she’d believed he might really care for her. Sure, the sex was great and he wanted to provide for their children. But she’d started to think that he also genuinely liked her, sex and children aside.

Before then, she’d been so sure of him. Of the decision she was close to making.

As she sat in the owners’ box again, she realized she couldn’t stop replaying seeing the bed empty when she woke up, knowing it was her fault for pushing him away but not knowing what she could have done differently. Erika would have continued to analyze the situation if it wasn’t for the approach of Liv, her sister. The one that had been through the sex tape fiasco.

The scandal had almost cost Liv everything.

Liv narrowed her gunmetal eyes at Erika, pinning her. She sat next to Erika, hands firmly grasping the wineglass’s stem. The smell of alcohol assaulted Erika’s sense of smell, turning her stomach sour.

“Sister,” she said lazily, “this family...”

Erika straightened, finishing the sentence for her. “Is filled with wonderful, loving people.”

Liv nodded solemnly. “Yes. And how do you say—American royalty?”

Erika’s eyes remained out toward the field, toward where Gervais stood with a reporter giving an interview, players and photographers around them. She would not be dignifying her sister’s comment with a response.

“All I am trying to say, dear sister, is that you need to be here. You could be royalty for real if you did.” Liv’s words, spoken in a hushed tone, had a bit of a slur to them.

“That’s not what matters to me. What matters is—” But the words caught in her throat as she watched Gervais get hit by two men locked in a tackle. Gervais was on the sidelines, knocked to his feet, his bare skull slamming back into the ground. Hard. Tackled on the sidelines with no equipment.

She barely registered what the Mitrases or the Reynauds were doing. In an instant, the panic that stayed her breath and speech was replaced by a need to move. A need for action. The damn need to get to his side.

Pushing her way to the door that led down to the stands, she ran smack into James, the security guard who had first alerted them that the whole Mitras clan was arriving. He stood at the door to the tunnels leading through the bowels of the stadium and out onto the field. His credentials were clipped to his jacket, a communication piece in his ear. “Princess, I am afraid I can’t allow you onto the field. Please wait here. I promise to keep you updated about Mr. Reynaud.”

James put a hand on her shoulder. Consoling? Or to restrain? Either way, it didn’t matter to her because this man kept her from Gervais.

Years of practice drills during her time in the military pressed her muscles into action. Without sparing a second thought, she grabbed his hand and bent back his pinkie. A minor move but one that could quickly drive a man to his knees if she pushed farther. “James, I am a nurse, but I am also former military. I can flip you onto your back in a heartbeat and you cannot—will not—fight me because I am pregnant. Now, we can do this simply or we can make this difficult, but one way or another, I am going to Gervais.”

James’s eyes narrowed, then he exhaled through gritted teeth. “I could lose my job for this.” He shook his head, rolling his eyes. “But come with me. You’ll need my credentials to get through to the field.”

She bit her lip hard in relief. “Thank you.”

“Um, ma’am, could you let go of my pinkie?”

“Oh.” She blinked fast, having forgotten she’d even still held him pinned. She released his hand and stepped back.

Wincing, he shook his hand. “Follow me.”

She followed him through the corridors, urging him to go faster and barely allowing herself to breathe until she saw Gervais with her own eyes. He waved off his personal security team as soon as she came into sight, his face twisted in pain as the team doctor shone a small flashlight in front of his eyes, checking his pupils.

Her medical training came to the fore and took in his pale face. He sat on the ground, upright, and was not swaying. His respiration was even, steady. Reassuring signs. Her heart slowed from a gallop. He would need a more thorough exam, certainly, but at least he was conscious. Cognizant.

“Gervais? Are you okay?” Erika knelt beside him, then turned to the team’s doctor, her voice calm and collected now. “Is he all right?”

On the field beside him, the game continued, the fans cheering over a play while Erika’s focus remained on Gervais and all that mattered to her.

“I’m fine,” Gervais growled, then winced, pressing his hand to the back of his head.

The doctor tucked away his flashlight into his bag. “He’s injured, no question, given the size of that goose egg coming up. Probably a concussion. He should go to the emergency room to be checked over.”

“Then let us go.” She barked the command at the doctor. Meanwhile, the game had resumed playing, and she trailed behind him.

As she stepped out of the arena with Gervais, leaving her family behind, reality crashed into her. Her heart was in her throat for this man. He was the father of her children. But she barely knew him and already he’d turned her world upside down. She felt as if she, too, had taken a blow to the head and her judgment was scrambled. How could she care so much so soon?

What was she doing here? She had started to love him, but maybe she just loved the surface image. Maybe she’d done what her family had done—just looked at the surface. After all, he’d offered no feelings, no emotions to her. Just convenient arrangements for their children and sex. His marriage proposal had never included mention of love.

And she couldn’t settle for less than everything from him, just as she wanted to give him her all.

What if in spite of all logic, she had fallen in love with him and he could never offer her his full heart?

* * *

There were only a few times in his life that Gervais had felt extreme elation and intense concern all at the same time. This was certainly being added to that tally.

Later that night as he stretched out in his own bed, Erika hovering, he was still replaying that moment Erika had rushed out to him. His head throbbed but his memories were crystal clear.

Watching Erika care enough about him to rush to his side filled him with a renewed purpose. He’d been blown away and more than a little unnerved watching her rush to his side, somehow having persuaded James to let her through security and out onto the field.

Make no mistake, he always wanted her there. By his side. But he didn’t want any harm to come to her or their children, either. The thought of harm befalling her or their children by her own rash actions gnawed at him. The security was there for a reason. God, she was everything to him. Everything. And he wasn’t sure how he could have missed out on realizing the depth of that.

They could be so good together, but it also seemed as if the risk of her pulling back was at an all-time high. All of her interactions with him since the CT scan came back had been rigid. Formalized. As if she was a nurse doing a job, not a woman tending to her lover.

That reaction clapped him upside the head harder than the wall of a football player that had crashed into him. Her reactions didn’t add up. She had been so upset on the sidelines, so freaked out about what was happening to him. And now she was answering in snippets of sentences. He didn’t want to upset her more, or keep her awake all night. But his family had been in and out of the room for hours. It was nearing morning before he finally had a moment alone with her.

His head throbbed far more from this situation than his minor concussion.

Propped up on the bed, he quietly said, “How did you get James to let you join me on the field?”

She flushed the most lovely shade of pink, her hand fidgeting with her blond hair draped over her shoulder. “I used some of my military skills to persuade him. Nothing extreme, given my condition, of course, just a small but painful maneuver.”

“Seriously? Apparently, I need to have you train my security.”

“And give away my secrets?” She gave him a princess-like annoyed scoff. “I think not. Besides, he should not have tried to keep me from you.”

“While I find that sexy on one level, you have to be careful and think about the babies. What if you had been hurt?”

She shrugged, looking him square in the eye. “I was careful. You are the injured one. Now, relax. You may not be stressed but you have to stay awake. Do as the doctor instructed or I am taking you back to the hospital.”

He felt the prickles of her emotions. Had to change the direction. Bring it back to breezy. Shooting her a sly smile, he said, “We could have sex. That would keep me awake.”

“You’re supposed to rest.” Eyes narrowing with annoyance, Erika crossed her arms.

“Then take advantage of me. I’ll just lie back and be very still.” He closed his eyes, then half opened one of them to look at her. Hoping to elicit some sort of response out of her. Hoping to see that radiant smile spread across her face. Damn. He loved that smile.

“Oh, you think you are funny. But I am not laughing right now. You are injured and I am here to make sure you take care of yourself.”

“You could tie me up so I don’t get too...boisterous.”

“Boisterous? Now, that’s an interesting word choice and a challenge. But sadly, for your own health, I will have to hold strong against your boisterous charms. Let us play cards.” There was no jest in her voice.

“Cards? Strip poker, maybe.”

“No, thank you.”

“Then I’ll pass on the cards. I gotta confess, my vision is a little blurry.” He held up his hand, trying to focus on his fingers. A dull ache pulled at him.

Turning, practically out the door to the room, Erika said, “I should get the doctor.”

“The doctor has checked me. I’ve had an X-ray and MRI and CT scan. I’m fine. Concussed, but nothing the players don’t face all the time. I’m not going to be a wimp in front of my team.”

“They wear helmets.”

“I have a thick head. Just ask anyone I work with. Or those I don’t work with.” He tried his best to crack that smile wide-open, but Erika’s face was as solemn as ever. She was shutting him out and he didn’t understand why.

“I’m not laughing.”

“You want to be serious? Then let’s be serious. Erika, I want you to move in with me. Hell, to be honest, I want you to marry me, but I will settle for you moving in here. Go to school here. Let’s be together. Life is complicated enough. Let’s enjoy more popcorn dates and sex in the screen room and every other room in this place. And in my cars. I have many, you know.” The declaration was earnest. He wanted her. For now. Forever. And not just because they were having children together.

Erika slammed her hand on the desk, a quiet rage burning in her fine, regal features. “I am still not laughing, Gervais. We cannot build a relationship on sex. I need something meaningful. I have fought so hard to build a life for myself, to be seen as someone more than ornamental. A royal jewel in the crown meant to bear an heir to the line, defunct or not.”

“Erika. It’s not like that. I don’t think of you as a crown jewel.” Gervais searched her face, trying to understand her.

“All you have done since I told you I was pregnant is press for marriage. I have worked hard to gain my independence, my happiness, and I will fight for my children, as well. They deserve something more.”

“Erika, I—” Gervais, the man who always had a plan, stammered, fighting for words.

Tears glistened in her eyes, but she stood tall, her shoulders braced as she backed away. “I will wake one of your brothers. It is morning anyway.” Erika turned, was already to the threshold and then gone before he could even think of words to delay her.