Winning It All

by Catherine Mann

  “Vanessa?”

  Her father’s voice sliced into her thoughts. “I was, uh, just thinking about the party. The Reagerts always throw a fabulous bash.”

  “That they do. I’m sorry to have missed it, but I’m glad you were there to represent the family along with your brother.” He skimmed a hand over his shaved head absently. “You’ve been a real comfort to me this summer. I know you’ll keep the traditions alive.”

  “Daddy, don’t talk like that.” She rested her hand on top of his over his bald head and squeezed gently. “You’ll be out there divot-stomping with me next year.”

  “I hope so, Nessa, I hope so.” His eyes drifted closed, his chest rising and falling evenly.

  Vanessa sat beside his bed and watched him sleep for a few minutes. How sad that she was tucking him in now, this once big, strong father who’d long ago created bedtime stories with her favorite horse puppets. Once she was sure he was resting peacefully, she slipped out into the hall to her suite. She locked the door behind her and sagged back with a ten-ton sigh.

  Finally, she was alone.

  Pushing away from the door with purpose, she strode toward her bed and upended her purse onto the mattress. Her shoes and wallet mixed in with a thousand other items, but her eyes zeroed in on one thing.

  The home pregnancy test. A thin box would spell out her future with a plus or minus sign. Her health dictated she learn the truth soon. While she might be reckless when it came to her own safety, she couldn’t risk the well-being of a baby.

  Scooping up the pregnancy test, she willed her shaky hand to steady. She would know in minutes whether she was free to meet Nicolas in the morning.

  Or whether she would have to make a last-minute appointment to see her doctor.

  Three

  Where is Vanessa?

  Nicolas brushed down Maximo, each stroke faster and faster as his irritation built. She’d been a no-show this morning for their brunch date at a tucked-away inn. While she’d let him know, her format—a text message—had left him frustrated. The fact that she was ignoring his calls shifted his frustration to anger.

  Even his favorite ritual in a quiet corner of the stable couldn’t calm him. The scent of polished leather, hay and nature usually soothed his soul. No matter where he traveled, in a stable, he felt at home. Since he was usually on the road for polo matches or traveling to photo shoots for his sportswear endorsements, there wasn’t much in the way of routine in his life. He’d made a mistake in getting comfortable with his “routine” with Vanessa this summer.

  Most of their evenings were orchestrated around the parties they had to attend. So he’d made a point of surprising her with late brunches after he’d finished his morning workout with the team’s owner, Sheikh Adham.

  Now that he looked back, he realized she’d been disappearing more and more. He didn’t expect to know her every move or thought like some possessive jackass, but he could see how distracted she was lately. Which concerned him, as well as surprised him. Their time together this summer was supposed to be about attraction, passion. Certainly last summer had been about all that, yet these past two months—with no sex—had added a need he hadn’t expected. A need to know her, to figure out if he could trust this new wiser, more mature Vanessa.

  Footsteps shuffled along the dusty floor behind him. He looked back over his shoulder just as Vanessa rounded the corner.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said softly, her large sunglasses silver today. Her white jeans and button-down shirt hugged her body, made him think of just how fun it was to peel away those layers. “I had an unexpected appointment.”

  “I got your text message.” He forced his focus back on her words.

  She would not unsettle him. He couldn’t afford disruptions during polo season.

  So what was he doing with Vanessa at all?

  “It was rude of me not to call.” She slid her sunglasses on top of her head, shifting from foot to foot nervously. “I was distracted. Not that you’re easily forgettable, far from it.”

  He set the brush aside and looked into her troubled blue eyes. His instincts itched in the same way they did on the field, when he knew his horse was off even if he showed no perceptible signs. “Something is wrong.”

  Her hand shook as she fidgeted with her sunglasses again. “I had to check in with my doctor.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Healthy as a, uh, horse.”

  She slid her sunglasses back over her eyes in a gesture he’d come to recognize well. She’d closed herself off. Time to move on. He wouldn’t get anything more from her on that subject today. Best to advance again later.

  A whinny sounded a few stalls away.

  Nicolas recognized the pony’s call even though it wasn’t one of his. They all had distinctive “voices.” It paid to know everything about the polo ponies as well as their riders on the field. “Careful around Ambrosia or she’ll nip you on the butt. She’s high-spirited. It’ll take a while before she’s ready to be played.”

  “Sounds like one of my dad’s favorite horses—Sassy. She might have been high-strung, but she was all heart.”

  Like Vanessa?

  The sound of Ambrosia’s groom echoed around the corner as the woman crooned to the pony with an unmistakable New Zealand accent. Catherine Lawson was the head groom for Sheikh Adham ben Khaleel ben Haamed Aal Ferjani, the owner of Nicolas’s team. Sheikh Adham not only owned the team, but was also one helluva top-notch player for the Black Wolves.

  Vanessa’s brow furrowed. “Maybe we should speak somewhere else.”

  Nicolas cupped her elbow. “Lawson won’t be coming this way. She still has to tend Sheikh Adham’s signature ponies, Aswad and Layl.”

  Except for Nicolas, all the Black Wolves rode Sheikh Adham’s horses. Aswad and Layl, Arabic for Black and Night, came from the same sire, the Sheikh’s first horse. They were solid and glossy black, damn near perfect. He saved these prized ponies for the most crucial parts of a match.

  Still, Nicolas would put his money on Maximo any day of the week. He patted the polo pony’s smooth neck, the mane roached—shaved—so as not to get tangled during competition.

  Maximo wasn’t some elite Arabian, but he was a hearty Argentinean criollo mixed with a thoroughbred for endurance and speed. All five of Nicolas’s personal ponies were of the same breed, but Maximo? He was special. At fifteen hands high, he wasn’t the largest on the field. Yet even with mallets flying and the largest of the large bumping him, Maximo never flinched.

  Vanessa stroked the sorrel’s nose with obvious affection. “Funny how we can trace their lineage further than our own.”

  Nicolas cocked a brow. “There are books written about the Hughes family tree.”

  She rubbed her cheek against Maximo without hesitation or fear. “I’m not a Hughes. I’m adopted.”

  Shock snapped through him harder than any nip from a horse, but he fought to shake it off fast for her sake. From the pained expression on her face, it seemed she hadn’t quite made peace with the information. He searched for the right words.

  He hated platitudes, so he settled for the truth. “You may not be biologically related to Christian and Sebastian, but you believe me, you are every bit a Hughes.”

  A smile flickered along one corner of her mouth. “I don’t think you mean that as a compliment.”

  Damn, apparently he hadn’t struck the right chord. He spoke English fluently but still missed nuances on occasion. “Sorry, I did not mean to make light of something that’s obviously painful for you. How long have you known?”

  “I only found out at the beginning of the summer.”

  Could that be the reason for her distraction lately? He wanted to haul her into his arms, but she was emitting hands-off vibes. “That must have been a shock, learning as an adult.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “Through Dad’s treatments.” She gripped the wooden stall plank until h
er fingers went bloodlessly white. “There was some discussion about donating blood to be stored if Christian needed transfusions. I couldn’t give because of my insulin injections, but in listening to the discussions about family blood types, I started wondering. It’s a lot of techno medical garble, but basically, I realized I couldn’t be Christian and Lynette’s biological child. I had a private detective look into it. He discovered I was adopted as an infant.”

  He wasn’t sure why she was telling him this here, now, but she needed to talk and he couldn’t deny the need to learn more about her. “What about your birth parents?”

  “The detective hasn’t learned that part yet, and I told him not to dig any further. What if my biological parents don’t want to be found? I decided to ask my father—Christian—for any other information.”

  “What did he have to say?” The Christian Hughes he’d come to know over the years adored his only daughter to the point of indulgence. Surely he would have reassured her with his explanation.

  She scrunched her nose. “I chickened out and never asked him. He doesn’t even realize I know.”

  He could see the concern in her eyes for her father. She’d made a mature and thoughtful decision not to worry him. Nicolas squeezed her shoulders in quiet comfort. It wasn’t just wishful thinking on his part that he was seeing a new side to this woman. She had a tender heart beneath the more impulsive instincts.

  Nicolas stroked her neck with his thumbs. “You don’t want to worry him while he’s ill.”

  Last year, she hadn’t given a thought to worrying her father, even when he’d been in the early stages of his battle with cancer.

  “Actually, until now, I haven’t even been able to discuss it with anyone.” She squeezed her eyes shut for an instant, her shoulders tensing under his hands. “I was so upset when I found out, I ran out of the detective’s office and came straight here to ride out my feelings. It didn’t help. I was an even bigger mess. I didn’t dare show my face in public, so I skipped the start-of-the-season party and went to the…” Her eyes shifted nervously.

  Realization booted him as solidly as a horse’s hoof to the chest. “You went to the sauna to steam away the pain and you found me.”

  And they’d made love in the heated enclosure, the sprawling gym all but abandoned while everyone else attended the party. Seeing her then had been a bigger shock than he’d expected. He’d prepared himself to see her on the field and had been determined to keep his distance. However, running into her when she wore only a towel, perspiration and vulnerable eyes had leveled all his best intentions.

  He leaned back against the stall wall, crossing one booted foot over the other. “I wondered what made you cave in so easily after announcing to the entire world, on national television, that you wouldn’t sleep with me again even if—” He held up a finger. “Now let’s make sure I get this right…. Even if I was hung like the best stallion in the stable.”

  Unmistakable remorse flitted through her eyes. “Did I actually say that?”

  “There are plenty of YouTube videos out there to document it.” Damn, he’d been angry—and disappointed. He’d deluded himself into thinking the media frenzy surrounding her had been hype. Just like he was doing this year.

  She rested a hand lightly on his arm, her eyes glinting with more of that contrition he wanted to believe was real. “I really am sorry for causing you embarrassment. You didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

  While he wasn’t sure he completely trusted her yet, he did appreciate the effort she was making now. “Thank you for the apology.”

  “I apologized last year, too.”

  “But I believe you mean it now.”

  Her hand rubbed lightly up and down his arm, just under the rim of his fitted black T-shirt. “You didn’t say if you’ve forgiven me.”

  “I forgive you,” he conceded. It was the truth, after all. Yet if he was telling the truth, more needed to be said. “I’m just not sure yet if I trust your change of attitude to last.”

  Vanessa’s face froze into an expressionless mask—a beautiful, pale mask—until she finally nodded tightly. “Fair enough. Trust takes time. I’m not sure I trust myself to be quite honest about everything I’m thinking either.”

  He wanted to press her on what those other things might be, but they’d already made progress here. They weren’t in bed, but they’d grown closer. She’d talked to him, shared a secret with him she hadn’t told anyone else. That touched him as surely as her hand on his flesh.

  Dipping his head, he brushed his mouth over hers, nothing deep or passionate. Hell, their mouths were even closed. But the feel of her lips under his, not pulling away, had a special intimacy all its own.

  Easing back slowly, she squeezed his arm. “Be patient with me, okay?”

  “I can do that.”

  Vanessa sketched her fingers over his eyebrows. “Would it help soothe the sting if I told you you’re hung like the second-largest horse in the stable?”

  His laughter burst free. God, he enjoyed the audacious way she surprised him. “Tomorrow, spend the afternoon with me and we’ll see.”

  Lucky for him, for the past few weeks he’d been working on the perfect plan to have Vanessa all to himself, no concerns about interruptions. He wanted Vanessa Hughes in his bed, even though he was quickly realizing one more time wouldn’t be nearly enough.

  Hooves thundered with the passing ponies. Vanessa planted her palm on her floppy hat as Nicolas’s team approached the end of a short practice match. She’d considered keeping her distance but hiding seemed more conspicuous. Instead, she lounged in an Adirondack chair a few feet away from the small clusters of other observers.

  The crack of a mallet connecting, the scent of earth churned under the ponies’ hooves all wrapped around her with familiarity. She needed that comfort right now more than ever.

  Her pregnancy test had been positive, a diagnosis the doctor confirmed. The physician had immediately recommended a high-risk OB but had assured her that while there were health concerns, she had every reason to believe she would deliver safely.

  Provided she adhered to the doctor’s monitoring and orders.

  Equipped with prenatal vitamins, a rigid meal plan and stacks of reading material, she’d left the office—and run straight into Nicolas at the stables. Okay, so maybe she’d been hoping to run into him by showing up at the most likely place to find him. She’d needed to see him. She just wasn’t ready to tell him yet. The news still hadn’t settled in her mind. Polo season was almost over. Perhaps it would be best for all if she waited until then to share the news.

  So here she was, seeking Nicolas out again. Dreaming of what could have been if she hadn’t screwed up so badly last summer.

  Her eyes were drawn to the sleek lines of his body in motion as he swung the mallet, the way he moved as one with his horse. And most of all, she couldn’t look away from his intensity. The way he poured himself into the game was mesmerizing. Much like the mesmerizing intensity he poured all over her while making love.

  Would she ever feel that beauty again? He’d said he forgave her, but he still didn’t trust her. How could she risk being with him when they were still missing such a fundamental element need to make a relationship work?

  The sound of footsteps pulled her out of her reverie. She glanced over just as her brother drew up alongside her.

  Sebastian dropped into a chair next to her, looking anything but relaxed in his business suit. “How’s the practice match going?”

  “They’re almost through,” she answered tightly. She and her brother hadn’t spoken in private since the explosion at the sauna. “What brings you out here?”

  “Saw you from my office window. Thought I’d stop by.”

  More like he was checking up on her to make sure his little sister was behaving. “I’m not stalking Nicolas, in case you were wondering. I’m simply showing my support the way Dad would want us to.”

  “Good, I’m glad to hear you’re done wi
th Valera.”

  “I’m glad you’ve quit punching out polo players.” Well, technically he’d only punched out one. How much angrier would her brother be when he learned about the baby? Apprehension tightened her chest.

  Sebastian laced his hands over his stomach. “Still mad at me, are you?”

  “You behaved like a beast and you know it, not that you’ve apologized. I was embarrassed and hurt by the way you acted in the sauna.”

  “But you obviously listened.” He reached across to squeeze her shoulder. “You’ve really gotten your act together this summer, Nessa, and you have to know that’s been a comfort to our father.”

  She noticed he still hadn’t apologized for overreacting. She had such a short time to come to some kind of resolution with Nicolas before everything hit the fan with her family. The fear constricting her chest shifted to panic.

  Vanessa pulled a tight smile. “Don’t you have more important things to do than worry about my love life? Go back to work, or take your fiancée out to lunch. Scram.”

  Sebastian studied her through narrowed eyes before nodding curtly and standing. He started to speak again, then shook his head and walked away. Vanessa blinked back tears, wishing life wasn’t so complicated. She looked back at Nicolas just as the practice match ended.

  Morning sun beating down on him, Nicolas tugged his helmet off and sweat slicked his dark hair to his head. Her body ached to be near him again, but there was still so much unresolved.

  Nicolas had asked her to spend the afternoon with him. Was it wise to spend time alone with him right now, while her feelings were still so raw over finding out about the pregnancy?

  With time ticking away, she didn’t have a choice. She had to resolve things with Nicolas one way or another before the rest of the world—and her volatile brother—found out about the baby.