by Joanne Rock
“Sports fans?” Erika frowned, a pout that didn’t come close to diminishing her stunning good looks. “They do not look like sports paraphernalia.”
Close up, Adelaide marveled at the other woman’s skin tone. But then, maybe living so far north the sun couldn’t wreak the same kind of havoc. She’d rather take the freckles, she decided, than live for months in the cold.
“That’s because they are intended to offset other team-oriented clothes. Most women don’t want to dress in head-to-toe gear like a player. So I have some pieces that are very focused on team logos, and some accessories that pick up the colors or motifs in a more subtle way so that fans can be coordinated without being cartoonish.”
“So when I buy Henri’s jersey to wear—just to tease Gervais, of course—” she gave Adelaide a conspiratorial grin as she released the jewelry “—I can wear gorgeous black-and-gold earrings with it.”
“Exactly.” Sipping her icy-cold cocktail that made good use of fresh oranges and limes, Adelaide winked at her new friend. “And how can your future husband argue when the jersey has the Reynaud name on it?”
“There is a bit of competition among them. Have you noticed this?”
Adelaide nearly choked on her drink after the unexpected laugh. “I’ve noticed. You’d be surprised to know it was even worse when they were teenagers.”
“Tell me.” Erika peered over her shoulder where the brothers had sat a few minutes before. “It is safe. They are watching their games on television.”
“When I first met Dempsey’s brothers, I was thirteen.” It was a year after he’d been living with the Reynauds and she’d been so excited that he’d invited her to his fourteenth birthday party. The day had been a disaster for many reasons, mostly because she’d realized that her friend had become someone else since leaving St. Roch Avenue. “And they knew I was Dempsey’s friend, so they decided to vie for my attention.”
“Because when you have a sibling, you enjoy irritating them. Trust me, I understand that part a little too well.”
As an only child, Adelaide hadn’t. She wished she’d understood because she’d handled the attention all wrong.
“One of them decided they should have a race to see who was fastest. On that particular day, fastest was synonymous with best.”
“I would bet Gervais won because he was eldest.” Erika sipped her drink, adjusting her blue-and-white sundress around her legs as she shifted to her side.
“Well, he would have, except Dempsey tripped him.” She’d been so disappointed he’d cheated that she’d failed to see the significance of him needing to win for her. At least, that was what she’d decided it meant later.
“Of course he did. You were his friend.” She stirred the ice in her glass with the red straw and waved over a maid who had emerged from the house to pick up the dishes from their dessert. “May we have some waters?” she asked the server, passing off her glass. “And the men are in Gervais’s study. I believe he keeps brandy in there, but will you see if they need anything?”
The woman nodded before disappearing into the house.
“I didn’t really understand how competitive they were at the time. I just thought it meant Dempsey had turned into a bully and I spent the party being kind to Gervais.”
Erika laughed. “So he won after all.” Her blue eyes sparkled. “What a clever clan we are marrying into, Adelaide.” She reached to squeeze her hand. “I’m so glad I will have a new sister here.”
Adelaide swallowed, her throat and eyes suddenly burning. Tricking nice people did not sit well with her. She blinked fast.
“I’ve never had a sister.” She cleared her throat, grateful for the maid’s return so she could accept a fresh glass of sparkling water with lime. “Let’s not be competitive, though,” she added.
“Deal.” Erika clinked her water glass with Adelaide’s. “Now, will you order me some of your earrings? And whatever else I need to be a stylish sports fan?”
“Of course.” Flattered, Adelaide wondered if she would still want the items once her engagement was broken. “Thank you.”
“But I’ll need some things in blue and white, too, in addition to the Hurricanes gear.”
“Blue and white?” Puzzled, she turned to see Gervais and Dempsey headed down the steps from an outdoor deck on an upper story.
“Some days I’ll have to root for Jean-Pierre’s team, of course. He is family.” She pantomimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key.
The princess was a firecracker in couture clothes. It made Adelaide happy for Gervais, who seemed as if he could use more fun in his life. But as they said their good-nights and walked back across the landscaped properties separating their homes, she couldn’t help a hollow feeling in her chest.
“Thank you for spending time with my family.” Dempsey slid an arm around her waist as they passed a line of Italian cypress trees and rounded a courtyard with a fountain at the center.
“You don’t have to thank me. I had fun.” She held her hand out as they neared the fountain so she could feel a hint of the cool spray drifting on the breeze.
“Did you?” He halted their steps on the gray cobblestones and tipped her chin up. “You look troubled.”
She took comfort in his concern. “Erika was so kind to me. It feels wrong to deceive them about us.” She searched his expression for clues to what he was thinking.
“An unfortunate necessity,” he admitted, his handsome face revealing nothing while his hands smoothed down her back in a reassuring rub. “What do you think of Erika?”
“I like her. She’s witty and sharp. I think she will liven up Gervais’s world, and I bet she’ll be a fabulous mother.”
“That’s good. He deserves to be happy.” Palming the small of her back, he turned her toward his house again.
“Why? What do you think of her?” She knew Dempsey well enough to understand when he wasn’t saying everything on his mind.
“I didn’t get to speak with her one-on-one the way you did, but I trust your judgment. I researched her when Gervais announced the engagement, and her family—for all that she’s royalty—has come close to bankruptcy in the past. So I wondered—”
“That’s a horrible thought.” Defensiveness surged at the insult to their lovely hostess. “And incredibly cynical.”
“My grandfather taught us to be wary of fortune hunters from an early age.” He kept to the cobblestone path until they reached his driveway. “Said he worked too hard building the company to have it torn apart by that kind of infighting.”
“So is it safe to assume your brothers and grandfather are all reviewing my financial information this week?” She didn’t like the idea of being held up to scrutiny for a fake engagement. She quickened her step as they neared the front door. “Because if a foreign princess rouses suspicion of gold digging, I can only imagine what the Reynauds think of a struggling artist from your old neighborhood.”
“No one questions our relationship when we’ve been friends for more than half my lifetime.” He circled around so he could hold the door open for her. “Every single member of my family knows you’re important to me.”
Some of the frustration eased out of her at the reassurance. She was important to him. But would she remain that way once she was no longer his fiancée?
A ball of panic bounced through her at the thought, but now they were inside and Dempsey’s golden-brown eyes were already alight with desire as he stared down at her in the foyer.
“All through dinner, I was thinking about the moment when that door would close behind us.” He crossed the polished Italian marble floor to eliminate the distance between them. “You know what else I was thinking about?”
“No.” Her heartbeat did a crazy dance, and she was all too willing to let go of her doubts and worries about the future. This time with Dempsey
was precious. A chance she’d been awaiting for half a lifetime.
Oh, what this man could do to her. With his hands. His sinful lips. The powerful thrust of his hips. He was better than any fantasy she’d dreamed up in the days when she’d had a crush on him.
“I was obsessed with this.” Reaching behind her, he hooked a finger in the loop of the tie for her dress’s halter top. “Do you have any idea how provocative it is to wear an outfit that allows a man to get you naked with a single tug on a lace?”
Her skin tightened like shrink-wrap.
“I hadn’t known.” Her neck tingled where his knuckles grazed it. “But now that I do, I will put the knowledge to work the next time I want you thinking about me.”
Keeping his finger threaded through the loop, he didn’t pull it free, but simply palmed her bare back and drew her closer.
“I’m thinking about you lately, no matter what you’re wearing.” He breathed the words in the hollow under her ear, right before he kissed her and then licked a trail across her most vulnerable places as he headed lower toward her shoulder.
The rasp of his jaw was a gentle abrasion on her skin, a sexy contrast to the wet heat of his lips and his tongue. She liked knowing that she was on his mind as much as he lingered in hers. Against all reason, she wanted to stay there.
“Are we alone in the house?” she asked, an idea coming to mind to help her stay in Dempsey’s thoughts.
With only three more weeks of working as his assistant remaining, she wanted to fill his home with memories of her. Of them.
“Absolutely.” He lifted his head from his task, eyes flaming with heat. “Why? Afraid of being an exhibitionist?” He tugged on the tie to the halter top of her dress.
“I’d prefer tonight to be for your eyes only,” she admitted, clutching the dress to her breasts before it could fall. “And actually, the reason I wore this dress was just in case dinner by the pool turned into a pool party.”
She let go of the fabric, and it fell away. She wore a simple strapless red bikini beneath.
If Dempsey was disappointed she wasn’t naked under her clothes, he sure didn’t show it. In fact, he stared at her body in a way that felt deliciously flattering.
“Damn.” He whistled softly as he slid a finger beneath the tie in the center of the bandeau top. “You mean I could have been watching you cavort around the pool in this?”
“It’s not too late for a swim.” She backed up a step and then another. “We could head outside—” she clutched the knot between her breasts and tugged it “—and skinny-dip.”
Dempsey made a strangled sound as he came after her. She pivoted on her toes and raced through the kitchen and toward the back door with the hottest man she’d ever met on her heels.
Sprinting through the rear of the house, she found one of the French doors leading out to the pool. Only the underwater light illuminated the surface, although the grounds were decorated with low-wattage bulbs around the trees and bushes. The pool was well hidden from any prying eyes on the other side of the lake, the landscaping planted to provide natural privacy.
Adelaide slipped off her shoes and jumped in wearing only her bikini bottoms. Dempsey surprised her by diving in a moment after her wearing...nothing.
Her breath caught as the low lights reflected off his impressive frame. Strong thighs. Powerful shoulders. A butt that had no business being so appealing. And then a splash engulfed her and she had no more time to admire the man swimming across the pool toward her.
She made a halfhearted effort to get away because, of course, she couldn’t wait to be captured.
When she felt a hand wrap around her ankle and drag her back through the water she welcomed the heat of his touch.
“That’s not skinny-dipping,” he accused, seizing her hips and dragging her bikini bottoms off before she could protest.
He flung them onto the deck with a wet splash, then backed her against a wall in the shallow end. Despite the slight chill of the water, his body was like an inferno against hers. He wrapped her in his arms, warming her, his erection trapped against her belly as he kissed her deeply. Thoroughly.
She got so lost in him she didn’t know how long they stayed there, hands gliding over slick skin, tongues tangling as they moved together. She watched, fascinated with the way their bodies looked beside one another, his muscles so impressive in the moonlight.
“I want you inside me.” She shifted her hips to stroke him with one hand as she circled his waist with her leg. “Please.”
“I don’t have any protection out here,” he said in her ear, nibbling her earlobe and driving her mad with need.
She bit her lip against the hunger, already so close to release. She could just let go and enjoy the sensations he could pull from her so easily with his talented hands. But she wanted to hold out for having him deep inside her.
“Let’s go in,” she pleaded, the hollow ache almost painful.
Dempsey lifted her into his arms and climbed the built-in stairs while water sluiced off them. He must look like Poseidon, rising from the depths, but she was too busy kissing him to see for herself. He paused near a deck box and withdrew two prewarmed towels, laying both of them on her as he carried her against his chest.
“I can walk.” She pulled back as he edged sideways through the open French door. “You can let me down.”
“And risk having you run?” He nipped her ear. “I already caught my prize. I’m not letting go now.”
He bypassed the main staircase for the narrow steps up from a butler’s kitchen, probably because the thick rubber treads provided traction when they were still dripping wet.
“You’re crazy if you think I’d run now.” She delved her fingers into his wet hair and brought his lips to hers. “I keep thinking that I must have been dreaming last night and that sex couldn’t have been as incredible as I remember. I want to see for myself. Again.”
“I like a challenge.” He angled into his bedroom and fell onto the bed with her, taking her weight on him as they rolled. Together. “Why don’t you keep track of how many times I make you scream my name tonight?”
She might have laughed or teased him about that, but his hand was already between her legs, the heel of his palm pressing where she needed him most.
Desire shot through her like a Roman candle, a bright burst that fired again and again. She clung to him, calling out his name just as he’d promised she would. It was only the beginning, she knew. She hadn’t imagined how thoroughly Dempsey would dominate her world, her thoughts, her nights.
She had gladly given him her body. But as tender feelings crowded her chest for this man, Adelaide feared she was giving him much, much more.
Nine
Dempsey awoke to the scent of coffee just how he liked it, thick and strong. Still half-asleep, he reached for Adelaide, only to find her side of the bed cold.
Coming more awake, he realized she must be responsible for making the coffee. He would have to tell her that he would far rather wake up to her in his arms, but he did appreciate the gesture on a game day. It was still dark out, but he needed to get to the stadium for their home opener—a banner moment in a career-making season. He could feel it in his bones.
And damn, but he would have liked to share that good feeling with Adelaide.
Shoving out of bed, he shrugged on a clean T-shirt and boxers, thinking he could coax her back upstairs. Then again, the kitchen table would do just fine. Last night had been so wild. So unexpected. He picked up his pace to find her.
When he reached the kitchen, he found her making breakfast in his shirt, her legs bare and her hair restrained in a messy braid that rested on her shoulder. But as he got closer, he could tell something was off by the way she moved. She fried eggs at the stove, her movements jerky and fast.
“Everything okay?”
he asked as he passed the walk-in pantry. He might have lost his ability to read her more subtle emotions, but he’d have to be blind not to correctly interpret anger.
“No.” She pulled down two plates from a cupboard and slid the eggs onto them. “I got up early because of a notification on my phone. I keep alerts on various buzzwords in the media as they pertain to you and the team.” She pointed toward the kitchen table. “Have a seat and check out the morning paper.”
Worry stabbed him hard in the gut as he headed toward the table.
“Is Marcus back in trouble?” He’d sprung the kid from jail on good faith, offering him a job helping Evan with some work for the Brighter NOLA foundation. Dempsey needed extra hands for a renovation project on a building that would house a local recreation center for the kids.
“No. Not this week anyway.” Her clipped response gave nothing away as she retrieved silverware and linen napkins from a sideboard near the breakfast bar.
“Hurricanes Coach Muzzles Stormy Girlfriends.” He read the headline aloud from the social section’s front page. “Old news, right? Did she offer anything different than the rumors that have been around for years—that I rely on confidentiality agreements for some of my personal relationships?”
Was this what had Adelaide so riled? They’d seen worse and weathered it in the past.
“No.” She put his eggs down on the table and tugged out a chair to sit across from him. “But nice timing on a game day, isn’t it?”
“Whoa.” He reached for her, bracketing her shoulders with his hands. “What am I missing? Why is this so upsetting?”
“Why?” Adelaide’s eyes widened. “Because for all she knows we really are getting married. And what kind of evil witch does that to someone who is newly engaged?”
She blinked fast, emotions swirling through her eyes quicker than he could register them.
“Someone selfish.” He shrugged, still not sure he saw what the big deal was, although he knew better than to say as much. “Someone who doesn’t give any thought to who she hurts to get her own way. I’ll bet you any money she wants to tout a new contract or sponsor or has some kind of promotional angle—”
