by Joanne Rock
The Texas branch of the family was deeply involved in the shipping and cruise business. The island off Galveston was a self-sustaining working ranch and an optional stop on many of their cruise itineraries. Guests could ride horseback on the gulf beaches or take part in one of the farm-to-table feasts that made use of the organically grown vegetables. Jean-Pierre hadn’t visited his Texas cousins in years due to a family rift. His grandfather Leon had publicly cut his oldest son, Christophe, out of his will long ago, but since Uncle Christophe still retained his title as a vice president of global operations, he was very much a part of the family business along with his oldest son, Colton.
“Is Kimberly still running the ranch on the island?” She was the youngest of Uncle Christophe’s large family, a sweet-natured girl Jean-Pierre remembered fondly from visits to the ranch when they were kids.
“Yes. But Gervais called Colton directly to make sure the island would be available that day. Apparently they’re bumping a scheduled cruise from the stop to ensure Gervais and Princess Erika will have total privacy.”
“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll let Tatiana know we’ll be on the move.” He’d been concerned about the extra press attention the wedding would bring to the family. “The additional security will make things easier for her.”
Dempsey hesitated.
“What is it?” Jean-Pierre saw movement up by the house and spotted Tatiana on the patio.
He lifted a hand to wave to her.
“Have you read today’s headlines about the two of you?” Dempsey reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone.
“I checked in yesterday long enough to assure myself the story about her coming down here with me read roughly as expected.” He’d seen her misquoted in a few places, but for the most part, the story ran as Coach’s Daughter Bets Against Home Team, or some variation of the basic theme.
Just what he’d anticipated and not the end of the world given the way he’d downplayed it.
“Today they’re rehashing that whole court case she won against your friend Marcus Caruthers.” Dempsey flipped his phone around to show him the story, complete with sketches from the courtroom showing Tatiana interviewing Marcus on the stand.
The case—which Jean-Pierre considered to be completely unfounded—against one of the game’s best running backs had put Marcus out of a contract. Jean-Pierre had done his best to support his friend despite the torrent of bad press he’d received after inflammatory claims of sexual harassment, but the judgment Tatiana had won against him effectively ended his career. The article included quotes Jean-Pierre had given the media at the time, quotes that were now used to suggest a feud between him and Tatiana—one that started with the old family rift and ended with the court battle.
“Marcus didn’t deserve this.” He thrust the phone back at his brother. “Not then and not now.”
“Her client lied. No doubt. But that’s not her fault.” Dempsey jammed the device back in the pocket of his cargo shorts. “But you must have reached the same conclusion or else you wouldn’t be sharing the parenting duties now.” He flashed a grin as he backed up a step. “Don’t forget about that clerk’s office. It’s open for four more hours today.”
Jean-Pierre gave him a thumbs-up, the most he could manage with the new weight crushing his chest. The truth was, he hadn’t come close to making peace with Tatiana for raining hell on his friend’s career and personal life. She’d done her job with ruthless precision, winning a judgment for a woman who’d perjured herself, although Tatiana hadn’t seen it that way.
He’d been trying not to think about that case in his rush to wrap his head around becoming a father. But maybe today they needed to address the issue that had pushed them both to the boiling point last winter. He’d walked away from her after an unforgettable night—that’s how upset he’d been. He’d told her he wouldn’t ever make the same mistake, words that had obviously wounded her deeply since she hadn’t come to him about her pregnancy sooner.
As he watched her stride down the dock in a fluttery crimson-colored bathing-suit cover-up, he wondered if she’d forgiven him for the things he’d said. It hardly seemed possible since he wasn’t sure he’d forgiven her, either. Hopeful mood sinking, he stepped up onto the dock to greet her. He’d face the situation the way he faced any football matchup—grind it out until he got the outcome he sought.
Lucky for him, a victory with this vibrant, sensual woman promised far more satisfying rewards.
Five
To the woman Tatiana had been before her pregnancy, making her way down the dock in a bathing suit just five and a half weeks after giving birth would have been out of the question. But as much as she wished she fit into the sleek black one-piece a bit more easily, she also couldn’t deny a certain relief that she had higher priorities now than how good she looked in swimwear. Her body had given her César. And since she loved to swim, she’d made a special appointment with her midwife after she returned to New York to make sure she was safe to go in the water. The laps in her building’s heated pool had relaxed her.
If she was a little worse for wear in a bathing suit, so what? She’d figure out what to do with the extra curves next time she went shopping.
Until then thank goodness for cover-ups. The gauzy crimson-paisley tunic felt breezy and pretty as she strode down the wooden planks toward the boat. Right now, she intended to make the most of this break while her son napped under the watchful eye of the nanny.
She could see one of Jean-Pierre’s brothers just stepping off the watercraft and she braced herself as he headed toward her.
There was a look to the Reynaud men, making it tricky to tell who was who from a distance. They were all tall with athletic builds. Television didn’t do professional athletes justice; because they were viewed in context and next to one another, they all looked a similar size. But when a football player stood next to a regular person, it was impossible not to appreciate the way they were built on a whole different scale.
As the man drew closer, she recognized Dempsey, Jean-Pierre’s half brother, from his square jaw and the cleft in his chin, traits he must have inherited from his mother. But his dark hair and brown eyes with hints of green were straight-up Reynaud features.
“Hello, Dempsey.” She greeted him with a smile despite the nervous butterflies in her stomach.
How would this family view her after the way she’d kept Jean-Pierre in the dark about his son? In particular, how would this man view her, given he’d been kept from his father as a child?
“Tatiana.” He opened his arms and surprised her with a quick embrace. “I’m so glad you’re here. I know my brother is anxious to spend time alone with you, but I hope you’ll have dinner with the family tonight.” A half grin lifted his lips. “That is, if you’re up for a reunion with all of us at once. Gervais has a hell of a chef working for him, so we could meet at his place. His fiancée, Erika, wants to see us all so she can share some new details about their wedding.”
Tatiana’s stomach clenched. A meal with all the Reynauds at once? Nothing like trial by fire. Still, she was heartened by Dempsey’s warm reception. The sun seemed to shine a little brighter, glistening off the lightly rolling waves lapping the dock moorings.
“Thank you. That sounds great.” She was genuinely curious to meet the women who’d captured the hearts of Jean-Pierre’s brothers. The press had plenty to say about each of the three women, but the press wasn’t known for being honest. “We’ll be there as long as your brother delivers us back here in one piece before dinnertime. I seem to remember he drives a boat like he’s eluding the Coast Guard.”
Dempsey threw his head back and laughed.
“Some things never change. But I’ve never seen him lose a passenger yet. I’ll let Gervais and Erika know to expect two more.” He paused. “Or might that be three?”
Her knees wobbl
ed as a bout of light-headedness shook her. “He told you?”
If so, who else knew? She understood the news needed to be relayed to his family as soon as possible. And truly, she didn’t feel any need to be at Jean-Pierre’s side when he told them. It had been difficult enough confronting her parents and feeling the weight of their expectations on her shoulders. But even now, she didn’t feel emotionally prepared for the fallout this baby would bring.
“He did. And I couldn’t be happier for you both. I know the rest of the family will feel the same way.” He said it with a steely conviction that suggested he was determined to make it so.
Perhaps he would make a good ally for her son, who’d also been born without the legal protection of her marriage to his father.
“I’m not sure I should come to the big dinner just yet after all because—”
“Whatever you think is best. But don’t forget we’re his family. We protect our own.” Dempsey lifted a hand to give her shoulder a light squeeze before he set off at a brisk pace down the dock.
Leaving her alone and shaken. The Reynauds protected their own. She believed that. But she couldn’t miss the way the words sounded like a proprietary claim. Like the Reynauds had a stake in her son and wouldn’t forget it. The resources of this family were beyond imagining. She could never afford a power struggle with such a wealthy, well-connected clan.
Hearing her name called from the water shook her from her thoughts, giving her a welcome distraction from her fears. She looked up to see Jean-Pierre standing on the bow of his yacht peering her way. She didn’t need to see his expression to recognize the curiosity and concern in his body language. And didn’t that remind her how well she knew him even if they hadn’t done more than exchange social niceties for years? Well, except a year ago when they’d exchanged a little more than niceties.
She hurried toward him, telling herself not to be rattled. Not to fall into the trap of thinking she needed his strong arms around her to steady her. Too bad for her, she’d dreamed about sinking into his arms all night long. That and a whole lot more.
“Everything okay?” He straddled the dock and the boat to help her aboard, his sure hand gripping her forearm.
For a moment, their bodies brushed against each other enticingly. The warmth of his thigh tantalized her, evoking a memory of being naked with him while he lay above her...
“Fine,” she blurted, leaping back from the contact so fast she had to catch herself against the captain’s chair. “Just fine.”
His eyes searched hers.
“I hope my brother didn’t upset you.” He took her by the shoulders and steadied her, his fingers stirring more of the sensual memories she’d tried hard to forget these last months. “We agreed to tell our families about César before we figure out how to go to the press.”
“Of course. I’m not upset.” She had to keep herself in check or he would see the hunger she was feeling.
His hands stilled on her arms and he studied her for so long she wondered if he recognized what she was feeling. Was her reaction to him more obvious than she realized?
“Don’t forget why we planned this outing.” His words were softly spoken, a gentle rumble between them while they stood so close.
“To show any press lurking nearby that we’re spending time together. That there is no bad blood between us.” Although that had honestly been the last thing on her mind after the conversation with Dempsey. Not to mention the upsetting phone call from her father before she’d even rolled out of bed this morning.
A call in which he’d upbraided her for keeping him in the dark about his grandson. Browbeat her for information about when she was going to return to her practice as a trial lawyer instead of the research work she’d taken on recently. Appearances mattered to Jack Doucet and apparently a behind-the-scenes job wasn’t good enough for his daughter.
“We are going to have to do better than just demonstrate a lack of enmity. We need to show we’re more than just friends, Tatiana. We’re building a story so we can introduce César to the world.” He lowered his head closer to hers, his lips brushing her hair as he spoke into her ear. “But if you leap away every time I touch you, no one is going to buy it.”
The warmth of his body next to hers awakened every nerve ending. He smelled good, like spices and fresh air. She closed her eyes for just a moment, breathing him in. She lifted her palms to his chest, touching him on instinct. And while she might tell herself that touch maintained a few inches of space between them, she knew better. Having her hands on him was a simple pleasure too good to deny herself after the tumultuous last weeks.
“Agreed.” Standing there with him on the lightly rocking deck, she understood the value of what he was suggesting. Pretending a romance between them would only benefit their son.
“Seriously?” He tipped up her chin and the warm sun bathed her cheeks.
“Yes. Your plan makes sense.” As worried as she’d been about the reactions of their families to the baby news, she was even more concerned about the way it would play in the press. She’d worked too hard cultivating her career and her professional reputation to be portrayed as a superstar athlete’s baby mama.
His dark gaze searched hers. “I’m not used to wrangling an agreement out of the hard-nosed attorney so easily.”
“Maybe motherhood has softened my edge.” She fought the urge to turn her cheek more firmly into his touch. “It’s probably just as well I left litigation behind to focus on legal research.”
Releasing her, he frowned. “You’re sharp and talented no matter what aspect of the law you’re practicing.”
She missed his touch even as she felt grateful for the reprieve from the sensual attraction. She watched him untie a cleat hitch on the stern and climb over the bow to follow his lead on the other cleat.
“Thank you.” She wasn’t accustomed to praise for her work from the people in her life. Usually, her colleagues were a better source of encouragement than her parents.
And, of all people, Jean-Pierre had reason to resent her skills as a lawyer. He’d made it abundantly clear he didn’t agree with her efforts to win a judgment against his friend Marcus.
But as they set off onto the lake for the day, she tried to put that behind her to focus on the future. It all started with a believable story, just as he’d said.
She hoped it didn’t matter that the romance they were building was strictly for show.
* * *
An hour into their boating expedition, Jean-Pierre found the cove he’d been looking for.
He didn’t know if Tatiana would even recognize it after so many years, but he was pulling out all the stops to remind her of their past together—a time when they’d been happy. He wasn’t ready to talk about her case against Marcus or the way the media was quickly resurrecting that story. He hoped she didn’t know about that.
She certainly hadn’t mentioned anything about seeing the day’s headlines. Instead, they’d focused on having a fun outing with the grim determination of two high achievers. Tatiana had always succeeded at anything she tried thanks to a need to please the people around her—namely her father. As for Jean-Pierre, he’d usually met his goals by refusing to accept any outcome but the one he chose. So they’d both adopted their game faces, mindful of the fact that they were probably being followed by the telephoto lenses of enterprising journalists along the shore.
None of it sat well with him. He craved one real moment with her. Some kind of honest interaction not dictated by what they wanted the cameras to see.
“I can’t believe you brought me here.” She peered over her shoulder at him from where she lay sunbathing on a deck lounger. She’d slathered on sunscreen, willfully ignoring his repeated offers to help apply it to her back.
The need to touch her grew with every second he spent in her company, but he was trying to play h
is hand carefully, biding his time until she couldn’t resist the current between them any more than he could.
“You remember it?” He pressed the button to lower the anchor on the thirty-six-foot sport yacht.
She shifted positions on the bright yellow towel draped over the lounger.
“We went skinny-dipping here.” She arched a dark eyebrow at him.
He noticed how her glossy brown curls had escaped the knot she’d twisted at the back of her head. Everything about her was lusher than he remembered. Her hair had gotten longer and thicker, the curls even more riotous than they’d been ten months ago. And her curves...
He couldn’t even think about the eye-popping differences in her figure without facing the uncomfortable physical consequences. He should have noticed right away when he’d seen her at the Coliseum, but she’d been wearing some kind of loose dress that had hidden everything but her mile-long legs. Today, however, in a sleek black one-piece bathing suit, her hourglass shape was the kind that screen sirens had made famous in another era. Extravagant breasts. Generous hips.
He needed to remember she was still recovering from childbirth. But his brain wasn’t working on all cylinders right now.
“Did we?” He didn’t dare step out from behind the bridge until he had himself under control from just thinking about her, his body’s reaction impossible to hide. “It was too dark for me to get a good look that night, so I was never sure if you really took it all off.”
“You know perfectly well you copped a feel underwater,” she retorted. “Don’t pretend.”
“I told you that was a fish.” He thumped a hand to his chest in mock indignation. “I completely respected your ‘no touching’ boundaries.” He grinned at the memory.
“You had a squirrely brand of ethics even then, Mr. Reynaud.” She propped big sunglasses on top of her head and rose to stand at the starboard rail. “It seems funny that mystery fish chose to brush against my left breast.”