His Pregnant Princess Bride

by Catherine Mann

  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 sh
e 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.”

  Seven

  “You have forgotten we have no plans to get married. I have plans—other plans. Our plans are in flux.”

  Erika pulled out of Gervais’s arms so fast he damn near fell off the bed. He wasn’t sure why he’d raised the issue again, other than not wanting to be like his father, and certainly the timing of his proposal hadn’t been the smoothest. But the least she could do was consider it, since they hadn’t taken time to seriously discuss it that first night.

  Time to change that now. He shifted on the bed so they were face-to-face. And promptly remembered how little she must be wearing under that blanket. A bare shoulder peeked above the fabric, calling his hands to rake the barrier down and away.

  To slide between those covers with her.

  “Why not even consider?” he ground out between clenched teeth, determined to stay on track with this talk. “We have babies on the way. Even if we have a civil ceremony and stay together for the children’s first year.” From the scowl on her beautiful face he could see he was only making this worse. “Erika?”

  “I came here to tell you about being pregnant, see if you want to be an active father, and then make plans from there. I didn’t come for a yearlong repeat of our impulsive weekend together.”

  He swallowed. Had his carnal thoughts been that obvious? No sense denying that he wanted her.

  “And what would be so wrong with that?”

  “I have a life in another country.”

  “You’re out of the military now. So work here. You have more job flexibility than I do.”

  Red flushed into her cheeks, making her look more like a shield maiden and less like a delicate princess in need of saving. “You are serious?”

  The more he thought about it, the more it felt right. A marriage of convenience for a couple of years. He stroked her hair back and tucked it behind her ear, the silky strands gliding along his fingers. “We have amazing chemistry. We have children on the way. You’re already staying in my home—”

  “For two weeks,” she said, finality edging her voice.

  “Why not longer? Things have changed now with the twins. Two babies at once would be a lot for anyone to care for.”

  He needed to be involved. A part of his children’s lives.

  “I have plans for this fall. A commitment to my career. You are thinking too far into the future.” She shook her head, a toss of silvery-blond hair in the moonlight. “Please slow down.”

  She angled an elbow against a bolster pillow, reclining even as she remained seated. And damn, but he wanted to be the one she leaned against, the one who supported her incredible body through the upcoming months while she carried this burden for them.

  “We don’t have that option for long. And you yourself said you were concerned about the babies being boys and being caught up in the family monarchy as next in line. If they’re born here and we’re married here in the States...” He wasn’t exactly sure what that would mean for the monarchy, but it certainly would slow things down. Give them time to become a family. And to figure out how everything would work together.

  She clapped a hand over his mouth. “Stop. Please. I cannot make this kind of decision now.”

  The magnolia scent of her lotion caught him off guard. He breathed in the scent, enjoying the cool press of her skin on his lips. Would have said as much if he hadn’t noticed the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

  A raggedy breath before speaking. “Can we please think about our future rationally? When I am rested and more prepared?” Though she did her best to look past him, every inch a regal monarch in that moment, he could see the strain in her cheeks.

  She’d had a helluva long day. Fainted. Found out she was pregnant with twins. And she still had not gotten her damn chili dog.

  There was a lot going on.

  He could cut her some slack, give her space to collect herself. It was no use pushing so hard while she was emotional. And she had every right to be. Hell, he’d been upset tonight, too, uncharacteristically irritated with his father.

  So he would revise his approach until cooler heads prevailed. This tactic to get her to stay was not the right one. She’d dismissed it out of hand.

  Who could blame her, though? He’d given her no real reason to stay. And, as much as he hated to admit it, Erika Mitras was a woman who did not need him for anything. She could afford the best care and doctors for her pregnancy the same as he could. She would have highly qualified help with day-to-day care in her homeland.

  But what she hadn’t realized yet was that they were so damn good together. There was something between them, a small spark that could be more. And they had the children to consider.

  Rather than insist she stay, he’d convince her. Which meant she was in for some grade A romancing. That was something he could give her that she couldn’t just find in a store.

  He would win her the old-fashioned way. Because like hell if he was losing his children. Missing out on the lives of his offspring simply wasn’t an option. He’d make sure of that.

  * * *

  The next evening Erika still could not make sense of what had happened the night before. But no matter which way she spun Gervais’s actions in her bed last night, nothing made sense. She’d been so sure that he wanted her. That he felt that same sharp tug of attraction between them, but his decision to simply walk away and let her go to bed alone had left her surprised. Confused. Aching. Wanting.

  He hadn’t mentioned the baby issue at all the whole day, then he surprised her with this dinner date, a night out in the city they called the Big Easy.

  Draping an arm along the white-painted wrought-iron railing of the patio, her hand kept time to the peppy jazz music playing. She hadn’t realized her head nodded along to the trumpet until Gervais flashed her a smile.

  Heat flushed her cheeks as she turned her attention away from the very attractive man in front of her. She pushed around the last bite of her shrimp and andouille sausage, a spicy blend of flavors she’d quizzed their waiter about at length. Every course of her meal had been delicious.

  Attention snapping to the present, she caught a whiff of something that smelled a lot like baked chocolate and some kind of fruit. Maybe cherries, but she couldn’t be sure. All she knew was that her senses were heightened lately.

  As were her emotions.

  What was Gervais up to with this perfect evening? Was he trying to charm her into changing her mind without discussing the logistical fact that he still moved too fast?

  Setting her fork down, she inclined her head to the meal. “Dinner was lovely. Thank you.”

  His dark eyes slid over her. One forearm lay on the crisp white linen tablecloth, his tanned hand close to where hers rested. He made her breath catch, and she felt sure she was not the only woman in the vicinity who was affected. She liked that he didn’t notice. That his gaze was only for her.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. But the evening doesn’t have to end now.” His hand slid closer to hers on the table.

  Her tummy flipped. Did he mean—

  Standing, he folded her palm in his. “Let’s dance.”

  She was relieved, right?

  Oh, heavens, she was a mess.

  She took his hand, the warmth of his touch steadying her as he guided her over to the small teak dance floor. Briefly they were waylaid by an older couple who congratulated Gervais on the Hurricanes’ win the
day before. But while he was gracious and polite, he didn’t linger, keeping his attention on her.

  On their date and this fairy-tale evening that Gervais had created for her.

  Beneath the tiny, gem-colored pendants, he pulled her into him as the slow, sultry jazz saxophone bayed. With ease, his right hand found the small of her back, and his left hand closed around her hand. As they began to sway, he tucked her against him, chest to chest underneath the din of the music and the lights.

  The scents and sounds were just a colorful blur, though, her senses attuned to Gervais. The warm heat of his body through his soft silk suit. His fingers flexing lightly on her back, his thumb grazing bare skin where a cutout in her dress left her exposed.

  She swallowed. Each fast breath of air she dragged in pressed her breasts to the hard wall of his chest, reminding her how well her body knew his. What would it be like to be with him now, with her senses so heightened? It had been incredible two and a half months ago.

  She couldn’t hold back a soft purr. She covered by saying, “The music is beautiful.”

  “It’s the heartbeat of our city. The rhythm the whole place moves to.”

  He whirled her past the bass player, where the deep vibrations hummed right through her feet.

  “There’s so much more about my hometown to show you beyond our sports. So much history and culture here. And of course, some amazing food.”

  Which she could still smell drifting on the breeze. The scent of spices thickened the air, making the heat of the evening seem more exotic than any of the places she’d ever been to during her stint in the military.

  “I cannot deny this Big Easy fascinates me.” She could lose herself in these brick-and-wrought-iron-laced streets, the scent of flowers heavy in the air. “But I want to be clear, as much as I enjoyed the food tonight, or how much I might like the sound of jazz, that is not going to make me automatically change my mind about your proposal. We have nothing in common.”

  His voice tickled in her ear, a murmur accompanying the jazz quartet. “Sure we do. We both come from big families with lots of siblings.”