Читать книгу Six Of The Best Of Desire 2016 - Maisey Yates, Andrea Laurence - Страница 15

Six

Exhausted, Erika relaxed back into the passenger seat of Gervais’s luxury SUV. The leather seat had the smell of a woodsy cologne, a smell she distinctively recognized as Gervais. It was oddly comforting, a steadying moment in a day that had been anything but stable.

As the car pulled away from the hospital, she glanced out the window, craning to see the collection of Reynaud brothers who stood at the entrance. Her sisters would swoon over the attractive picture they presented, those powerful, broad-shouldered men. They had all come rushing to the hospital, filled with concerns. And likely, with questions.

But they had been polite in the lobby after her release. They didn’t press for information—the conversation had been brief. They’d wanted to know if she was okay. And neither Gervais nor Erika had offered any information about twins. That was something that they still had to discuss together. Something she still hadn’t processed.

But how should she broach this new development in an already emotionally charged day? How in the world could she bring up everything in her whirring mind? Her eyes remained fixed out of the car, even though the scene of the hospital had faded from vision, framed by wrought-iron fences and thick greenery. Now the vibrant pinks and yellows of the old French houses populated her view.

Glancing at an elaborate wood-carved balcony, she let out an emotional sigh. What had happened today had left her shaken. She’d never passed out like that before, never felt so disoriented in her life. She’d been blessed with good health, and she had pushed her physical endurance to the limit during her military training. Yet this pregnancy was only just beginning and it had already landed her flat on her back. But, thanks to Gervais’s quick action, she and her children—children, plural, oh, God—were safe.

It was all that mattered. That her children were okay. The twins were fine. Twins. She turned the word over. Was it possible to love them both so much already, even though she’d just learned about them? And yet, she did. In spite of her nerves, in spite of not having a plan figured out. Sure, she was scared about the future, about having to deal with her family...but she was overwhelmed with a deep love for her children already.

She peered over at the man in the driver’s seat beside her. Perhaps he felt her eyes on him, because soon Gervais’s throat moved in a long swallow. “Twins?” he mused aloud. “Twins.”

The simple utterance seemed to linger on his tongue and echo through the quiet interior of the luxury vehicle. Not that she could blame him for being overwhelmed by the news. There was a lot to take in. Still, even under Gervais’s audible processing of the fact that he was about to be a father not to one but two children, she could hear a glow of pride in his tone. A protectiveness that caught her attention.

Of course, the raw, masculine appeal of his muscular body taking up too much space beside her might have something to do with how thoroughly he held her notice. How easy it would be to simply lean closer. Lean on him. She could almost imagine the feel of his suit jacket beneath her cheek if she laid her head on his shoulder and curled up against his chest.

She forced herself to focus on the conversation they needed to have instead. On their children.

“Yes, there are two in there. I even heard the heartbeats.” Her heart fluttered with joy as she remembered the delicate beating of her—their—children. The sound had made her spring to life in a way she didn’t know was possible. She felt bad he’d missed that. They were his children, too, and he’d deserved to have that same feeling of awe. Looking at him sidelong, she said cautiously, “Next time you can come with me if you wish.”

“I wish.” There was no mistaking the sound of his commitment.

“Then you should be there.” She couldn’t hold back the smile swelling inside her as she drank in his eyes alight with honest excitement. “It is too early to distinguish the sex, you know.”

He shrugged, clearly unconcerned. “That doesn’t matter.”

“It did in my family.” It came out in a whisper, something almost like a secret. And each word hurt.

He glanced over at her briefly before turning his eyes back to the road as they drove west toward his home. “Be clearer for me.”

She smoothed the skirt of her dress, wrinkled beyond recognition after being crumpled into a hospital bag during her exam. If only she could smooth over her past as easily. This was knowledge she carried every day. Knowledge that ate at her and had her entire lifetime. “A line of girls was always cause for concern in my home. The monarchy is technically inactive, but even so there is no provision for a female ruler. There are no male heirs. I am afraid...”

“Oh, no. No way in hell is anyone taking my children away.” His brow furrowed, anger simmering in his eyes, the joyous warmth gone.

“Our children. These are our children.” She felt all the same protective instincts he did, and she felt them with a mother’s fierce love.

“And we can’t afford to forget for even a moment how important it is that we work together for the children. If there’s a chance we can have more than a bicoastal parenting relationship, don’t you think it’s worth figuring that out as soon as possible?” The look he gave her was pointed. Sharp.

But Erika wasn’t about to back down. She hadn’t decided how to handle whatever was between them. And that meant she had to think a bit more. She wouldn’t be rash and impulsive. One of them had to think through their actions.

“I will let you know when I schedule my doctor visit. I will want to visit the doctor again before returning home.”

He scowled. “Can we not talk about you leaving? We’re still settling details.”

“You know I do not live here.” New Orleans was lovely, with its vibrant history, loud colors and live music that seemed to drift up from every street corner. But it was not home. Not that she really knew where home was these days...

“One day at a time. And today we are dealing with a big change, the reality of two children. I know that happens. I just never expected...” His voice trailed, his words ebbing with emotion.

“I have twin sisters.” She had always envied them their closeness, like having a built-in best friend from birth. “Twins—how do you say?—walk in my family.”

“Run in your family. Okay.”

She blinked at him, filing away the turn of English phrasing that brought a funny image to her mind of twins sprinting through her family tree. This was all happening so fast, she’d never stopped to consider the possibility of twins. There was so much to figure out still. “My oldest sister also has twin girls. I should have considered this possibility but I have been so overwhelmed since I realized I was expecting.”

“Thank you for coming to tell me so soon.” He covered her hand on the center console. “I appreciate that you didn’t delay.”

“You are the father. You deserve to know that.” Erika lifted her chin up, tilting her head to the side to get a better look at him. He was a good man. She knew that much.

“We’re going to make this work.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back, then the inside of her wrist over her rapidly beating pulse.

The press of his mouth to her skin was warm and arousing, stirring memories of their weekend together. The air crackled between them now as it had then. Her emotions were already in turmoil after the scare at the game. She ached to move closer, to feel his arms around her. To have those lips on her body again. Everywhere. Arousing her to such heights her head spun at the thought. How quickly she could simply lose herself in what he could make her feel.

But doing so would take away any chance of objectivity. And now she had twice the reason to tread carefully into the future.

* * *

The silver stain of moonlight washed over the lake. The water was restless. Frothy. Uneasy. A lot like the restlessness inside Gervais. But he had to pull it together in order to make this phone call.

He thumbed through his phone, finding his father in his contact list. How long had it been since they’d spoken? Months, no doubt. The bright screen blared at him.

He knew he had to call him about Erika’s pregnancy. Theo was in Paris for the week with his latest girlfriend. Which was, in some ways, fortunate. This way, Gervais had gotten to talk to Erika privately before his father had a chance at royally screwing the dynamic up.

But it also meant he had to make this call. Which was something he never looked forward to doing. Years of neglect and dysfunction had their way of clinging to their current relationship. Another lesson of how not to treat children brought to you by Theo Reynaud. Dear old dad loved football and his family, but not as much as romancing women.

Before he could think better of it, Gervais pressed Send on the screen. Feeling the pinch of nerves, he poured himself a glass of bourbon from the pool-deck bar, staring at where a few kids messed around with a stand-up paddleboard. Beyond them, the lights of gambling boats winked in the distance and even farther behind those he could see the bridge that spanned the lake.

Gervais wasn’t sure why he felt the need to talk to his dad other than doing him the courtesy of making sure he didn’t hear via the grapevine. Discretion wasn’t Theo’s strong suit. But if Gervais spun the news just right, maybe he could keep a lid on it a bit longer. Erika would appreciate that.

And tonight making Erika relaxed and happy felt like the first priority on a quickly shifting list in his life. But knowing that she carried his children had brought things into sharp focus for him today.

“Hello, son.” His father’s graveled voice shot through the receiver, yanking him from his thoughts.

Might as well cut to the chase.

“Dad, you’re going to be a grandfather.”

“About damn time. Damn shame Henri is still carrying a grudge and didn’t tell me himself. The divorce was a long time ago.”

In the background of the call, the sound of violin music and muted chatter combined with the clink of glasses. The sounds of a bar scene.

Gervais ignored the mention of his parents’ dysfunctional marriage. “Henri and Fiona aren’t expecting. I’m the one about to make you a gramps.”

News about the twins could wait. One step at a time. He was still reeling from that news himself.

“With who? You didn’t knock up some groupie looking for a big payoff from the family?” His voice crackled through the phone from across the Atlantic.

“Dad, that’s your gig. Not mine.” And just like that, he was on the defensive. Gervais was not his father. He would never be like his father. And the fact that his father thought he had that in his nature sent him reeling.

“No need to be disrespectful.” Bells chimed in the background of the call, an unmistakable sound of a slot machine in payoff mode.

So much for keeping the subject of his parents’ divorce off the table. “You destroyed your marriage with your affairs. You ignored your own sons for years. I lost respect for you a long time ago.”

“Then why are you here now telling me about this baby?”

Gervais closed his eyes, blotting out the lights from the distant boats on the lake, listening to the sound of the water. With his spare hand, he pressed on his eyes, inhaling deeply. Exhaling hard, he opened his eyes, resolve renewed.

“Because this news is going to go viral soon and I want to make sure you understand I will not tolerate any inappropriate or hurtful comments to the mother of my child.” That was something he absolutely would not allow. From anyone. Least of all his father. He would protect Erika from that.

“Understood. And who might this woman be?” An air of interest infused his words.

“Erika Mitras.” He sat down, inspecting his ice cubes as he waited for his father to make some sort of off-color remark.

“Mitras? From that royal family full of girls? Well, hell, son. It’s tough to find someone not out for our money, but kudos to you. You found a woman who doesn’t need a damn thing from you.”

The words cut him, even though, for once, his father hadn’t meant any harm by them. Erika had said as much about not needing Gervais’s help. But he wanted to be there for his children. For her. Seeing those two tiny lives on that monitor today had blown him away.

And knowing that Erika was already taxed from travel and devoting her beautiful body to nurture those children made him want to slay dragons for her. Or, at the very least, put a roof over her head and see to her every need.

“Thanks. That wasn’t forefront in my mind at the time.”

“When you were in England, I assume?”

“Not your business.”

“You always were a mouthy bastard.” Smug words from the other end of the receiver.

“Just like my old man.” He downed half of his glass of bourbon. “Be nice.”

“The team’s winning. That always puts me in a good mood.”

“Nice to know you care.” Not that his father owned a cent of this team. The Hurricanes belonged to Gervais and Gervais alone.

“Congratulations, Papa. Name the little one after me and I’ll give—”

“Dad, stop. No need to try so hard to be an ass.”

“I’m not trying. Good night, son. Congrats.”

The line went dead. So much for father-son bonding time.

Gervais tossed his cell phone on a lounge chair and tipped back the rest of the ten-year-old bourbon, savoring the honey-and-spice finish in an effort to dispel the sour feel left by the phone call. He didn’t know what he’d expected from his old man. That he would magically change into...what? A real father? Some kind of reassurance that maybe, just maybe, he himself could be a good father to not just one but two babies?

Foolishness, that. Theo remained as selfish as they came.

Regardless, though, he knew one thing for certain. He was not going to ditch his responsibility the way his father had.

* * *

Tucked in the big guest bed in Gervais’s house, Erika snuggled deeper beneath the lightweight comforter, hugging the pillow closer as sleep tugged her further under. She was exhausted after the hospital visit and the strain of pregnancy that seemed to drain all her physical resources. She would feel better after she rested, and she couldn’t deny taking extra pleasure at sleeping under the same roof as Gervais.

During her waking hours, she did all in her power to keep the strong attraction at bay so she could make smart decisions about her future. Her children’s future. But just now, with sleep pulling her under, and her body so perfectly comfortable, she couldn’t resist the lure of thinking about Gervais. His touch. His taste...

Her memories and dreams mingling, filling her mind and drugging her senses with seductive images...

The press of Gervais’s lips on hers sparked awareness deep in Erika’s stomach. He pulled back from the passionate kiss, and she surprised herself when she was disappointed. She wanted his lips on hers. And not just there. Everywhere.

But he led her toward the couch in his den.

His den?

A part of her brain realized this was not a memory. She was in Gervais’s house. In Louisiana. She could smell the scent of the lake mingling with the woodsy spice of his aftershave as he drew her down to the leather couch, tossing aside a football before he landed on the cushion while she melted into his lap. And it felt right. Natural. As if she belonged here with him.

Her heart slugged hard in her chest, the strength and warmth of his so incredible she could stay for hours. Longer. She wanted this. Wanted him. She’d never felt so alive as during those days when she’d been in his bed, and she couldn’t wait to feel that spark inside her again. The hitch in her breath. The pleasure of sharp orgasms undulating through her body, again and again.

Now he tilted her chin up, searched her eyes for something. A mingle of nerves, anticipation and desire thumped in her chest as he kissed her forehead. Her lips. Her neck. She trembled as he touched her, her whole body poised for the fulfillment he could provide.

Her eyes closed, and the muted noise of a football game on a television behind them began to fade away until only the sound of their mingled breaths remained.

“Erika,” he whispered in her ear before kissing her neck again. The heat of his breath on her skin made her toes curl.

“Mmm?” A half question stuck on her lips.

“Stay here with me.” His request was spoken in clips between kisses, then a nip on her earlobe.

His hands tugged at the heavy jeweled collar around her neck. He removed it from her, the metal crown charms clanking against the coffee table. How good it felt to set that weight aside.

“Let me take care of you. Of them.” Wandering hands found her shoulders, slipped underneath the thin straps of her dress. She burst to life, pressing into him with a new urgency. A want and need so unfamiliar to her.

As he kissed her, he rocked her back and forth. The scent of earthy cologne seemed to grow stronger. Demanded more of her attention...

“Erika?” a deep voice called, a man’s voice.

Gervais.

Opening her eyes, she had a moment of panic. This was not the hotel room.

As the suite came into focus, she realized where—and when—she was. This was Gervais’s house, his guest bedroom. She wasn’t in London, but rather in Louisiana. Still, the memory pounded at her mind and through her veins.

She wanted to go back there now. To her dreamworld in all its brilliant simplicity.

But Gervais himself stood in the doorway of the guest suite.

His square jaw flexed, the muscles in his body tensed, backlit from a glowing sconce in the hall.

“Erika?” He crossed the threshold, deeper into the room, his gaze intense as he studied her. “I heard you cry out. I was worried. Are you okay? The babies?”

The mattress dipped as he sat beside her, stirring heated memories of her dream.

“I am fine. I was, um, just restless.” The sensuality of her dream still filled her, making her all the more aware of his hip grazing hers through the lightweight blanket. The electricity between them was not waning. If anything, she felt the space between them grow even more charged. More aware.

“Restless,” he repeated, eyes roving her so thoroughly she wondered what she looked like. Her hair teased along her bare shoulder, her silk nightdress suddenly feeling very insubstantial, even though the blanket covered her breasts.

Images from her dream flitted back into her mind, and she bit her lip as her gaze moved down his face, to his hands reaching up to her exposed shoulders. Looking back at him through her eyelashes, she could tell he sensed the charged atmosphere, too. But his hands didn’t move. Not as she’d expected—and wanted—them to. There was something else besides hunger in the way he held her gaze. Something that looked a bit like worry.

“Gervais, I truly am all right. But are you all right?”

He ran his hand through the hair on top of his head, eyes turning glossy and unfocused. “I called my dad tonight to tell him about the pregnancy. Not the twin part. Just...that he’s going to be a grandfather. I didn’t want him to hear it in the news.”

She thought of how the day had gone so crazy so fast simply because she passed out. “I wish we could have told your family together.”

“You didn’t include me when you told your family.”

She looked away, guilt stinging her. And didn’t that cool the heat that had been singeing her all over?

“You’ve told your family, haven’t you?” he asked, his eyes missing nothing.

“I will. Soon. I know I have to before it hits the news.” She wanted to change the subject off her family. Fast. “What did your family have to say? Your brothers were quiet at the emergency room.”

“My brothers are all about family. No one judges. We love babies.”

Erika raised her eyebrows, unsure how to take the casual tone of what felt like a very serious conversation. She noticed he didn’t include his father in that last part.

“That is all?” she asked, knowing she had no right to quiz him when she hadn’t shared much about her own family.

“That’s it. Now we need to tell your parents before they find out.”

“I realize that.”

“I want to be with you, even if it’s on the phone in a Skype session.” His jaw flexed in a way she was beginning to recognize—a surefire sign of determination. He slid his arms around her and said, “I want to reassure them I plan to marry their daughter.”