by Amy Brent
The tension started to ease out of my shoulders as I listened to his story. This wasn't the Tremaine I'd imagined. My image of him, of his family name, had been tainted by his father's legacy.
“When I got out,” he said, “it was just after my father died. I had to take over the family business. I almost sold it all, just so I wouldn't have to deal with it. But the companies that made me offers were notorious for doing major takeovers and then 'reorganizing their new assets.' Which is a fancy way of saying they shut down any unprofitable plants and make major layoffs. So I keep things running, and to hell with the shareholders if they complain that profits are down. We keep people employed. And I use my own profits for personal projects.”
“Like preserving little pieces of history,” I said. I reached over and touched his knee.
“Among other things, yeah.” He finally turned to face me. His expression had softened.
“You didn't quite answer my question, though.” I arched an eyebrow. His story had touched me, but I wasn't letting him get off the hook just yet. “Why lie? Why pretend to be someone else?”
“I like to get involved,” he said, shrugging. “I like to help. And since I've got my SEAL training, it makes sense to work as security. I fund a lot of other things besides your expeditions. Scientific and medical research, wildlife preserves, and so on. I go from one to the next, taking on a simple security role, and I can feel useful. Plus it helps me keep an eye on things, make sure the people I pay don't squander their resources or try to do anything illegal.”
“So you were here to spy on us?” I asked, my hackles rising. “Make sure we didn't try to steal any of these artifacts for ourselves?”
“That's only a small part of it.” He looked at me with a somber expression haunting his eyes. “And I wasn't expecting this to happen, between us. I wasn't expecting to fall in lo—”
“No,” I said, cutting him off. “Don't you say that. Don't you dare. Not now.”
“Camille...”
“I need time to think about this.” I got out of the car and stalked away from him. He followed, but kept his distance, respecting my need for space. We boarded the jet, and I made sure to take a seat far away from Jack. I needed to be alone for a while. I needed to sort this out.
I needed to figure out if I could still love this man, when I had just found out I didn't even know who he was.
I didn't talk to Jack when we got back to the States. He gave me his personal cell phone number and asked me to call him when I was ready. Though for a little while, I was too busy to consider what I might say to him, for which I was grateful.
My entire team had to be debriefed on what had happened, giving full reports to the people at Tremaine Industries. In order to keep us from getting into trouble with the government for removing the artifacts from Syria, we all agreed to sign Non-Disclosure Agreements. The items we'd recovered would be quietly shipped to places where they could be studied and kept safe, and we were all paid substantial bonuses as compensation for the danger we'd faced. The details of our work were quietly swept under a rug, and we were able to get back to our lives.
The morning sickness started not long after I returned home, and I decided it was time to see a doctor and confirm what I already knew. The tests came back positive—I was pregnant. With the baby of a man who wasn't at all what I'd thought he was.
I sat at home one afternoon with his number punched into my phone, working up the courage to hit 'send.' I normally wasn't a girl to be shy about calling a man, but this was a call I'd never had to make before. Finally I let out a long sigh and hit the button, then held my breath while I waited for him to answer.
“Camille,” he said as soon as he picked up. “How've you been? I've been waiting to hear from you.”
“I'm...I'm good,” I said, nervously picking at the threads on my shirt. “Listen, baby, you and I need to talk.”
“That's good,” he said. “Talking is good. We've got a lot to talk about.”
“Honey, you don't know the half of it.”
He was quiet at that, and his voice was hesitant when he spoke. “Camille, is everything all right? Listen, I know this was a crazy situation...”
“We'll talk in person,” I said. “This ain't something to discuss over the phone.”
“All right,” he said. “How about dinner? Something quiet. Intimate.”
“That sounds good.” We worked out the details and I hung up the phone, trying to ignore the churning in my gut. I wasn't sure if it was nausea from the pregnancy or from my nervousness, but either way I felt like I was going to throw up.
Jack picked me up later that night. He brought flowers, though I refused to give him any brownie points for that. We went to a restaurant with a private dining hall. There wasn't another soul there besides the staff. I wondered if Jack had bought out every table in the place in order to give us more privacy.
Once we were settled in and we'd decided on what to eat, Jack uncorked a bottle of champagne and poured us each a glass. “I'm glad for the chance to see you again, Camille,” he said, raising his glass. I raised mine and tapped it gently against his, then set it down without taking a sip.
“So, how have you been?” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. He still looked like the same old Jack. He was dressed simply, in slacks and a black t-shirt, and to look at him you never would have guessed that he was a billionaire.
Billionaire. I couldn't get my head around how much money a billion dollars really was. I'd grown up poor and worked my way through college to earn my archaeology degree. I was still paying off my student loans.
“I'm fine,” I said, my voice tight. I'd planned out everything I had to say, but it was getting all jumbled now that I was here. “Listen, Jack, we need to sort this out. About us. If there is an us, I mean.”
“I'd like there to be,” he said. “I know you must still be mad at me, but can you at least understand why I did what I did? I mean, it's not like I can travel under my own identity. You saw what happened...those men somehow figured out who I was, and they came after me.”
I hadn't thought about that before. It's likely the terrorists didn't just want to stop us from violating their holy grounds. Jack Tremaine would have been a valuable hostage. Even if they didn't care about money (most extremists didn't), they could have made a public example of him. Killing a rich American industrialist would raise them up in the eyes of those that supported their cause.
“I understand,” I said. I took a sip of my water, wishing I could try the champagne so I could calm my nerves. “But what happens now? It ain't like we can have a normal relationship.”
“Why can't we?” he asked. “I don't live a high society life. I prefer to travel. You can come with me. There's got to be plenty of places around the world you'd like to see. We can scout locations for future expeditions, and see the world while we're at it.”
“That isn't going to work,” I said. I couldn't see hauling a baby around the world, jetting from one country to another. I couldn't set up a crib at the edge of an excavation site while I was on a dig. “I need to settle down for a while. I'm thinking about teaching.”
“Teaching?” He arched an eyebrow. “That works too. I have some contacts at quite a few universities. I can help set you up with something.”
“I don't need your help.” I shook my head. “I can get by on my own merits.”
“Of course.” He gave me an apologetic smile. “I didn't mean to imply otherwise.”
We were quiet for a while as we ate. I couldn't figure out how to say the things that needed to be said, or ask the things that needed to be asked. I couldn't just come right out and tell him I was pregnant. He'd want to get married and take care of the baby, just because it was the right thing to do. But then I'd spend the rest of my life not knowing whether he actually wanted me, whether he loved me, or whether he was just saddled with me because he'd knocked me up.
Damn, I wished I hadn't gone and gotten myself into thi
s mess.
“So what about the future?” I asked him.
“Our future?” he asked. “I hope it will be a bright one.”
“But have you actually thought about it?” I put down my fork and peered at him from across the table. “We had a fun few weeks out there, sure. But did you ever stop to think about whether it was going anywhere?”
“Actually,” he said, “I haven't been able to think about much of anything else.” He wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin, then set it on the table. “Listen, Camille. I'm not going to make any promises. This is just the beginning, right? We've got time to figure things out. I just want to get to know you more, to become a part of your life. And we can figure out the rest as we go along, can't we?”
“No,” I said, tears welling in my eyes. “We can't.”
“Why not?” He looked so distraught, half rising from his chair as if he thought I was about to run out the door and he'd need to catch me.
“Because I'm pregnant.”
He stared at me for a long moment. He settled back into his chair. He cleared his throat, then took a sip of his champagne.
“Oh,” he said.
“Oh?” I stared at him, leaning forward with my palms on the table. “Oh? Is that all you have to say? God damn it, Jack, I'm having a baby. Your baby. Don'tcha have anything more to say about that?”
“Have you been to a doctor yet?” he asked. “I can find you the best OBGYN in the state. And don't worry about the cost, I'll take care of everything.”
I sat there and stared at him. “That...that's it?” I grabbed my napkin and threw it at him. “You want to know about the damn doctor?”
He caught the napkin and set it aside. “I'm not sure what else to say. I'm a practical person, Camille. Your health, the baby's health, that's the most important thing. The first thing I thought of.”
I let the tension release from my shoulders. It was actually sweet, when I thought about it. He heard that I was pregnant, and his first instinct was to take care of me.
“What else do we need to talk about?” he asked. “Living arrangements? We've got time until the baby is born, so maybe we—”
“I want to talk about us, Jack.” I clenched the edge of the tablecloth in my fists. “I wasn't ready for this. I don't know what's going to happen. And before you even think it, don't go popping the question on me now. I want to focus on doing what's right for this baby, first, before we consider whether we want to get married or something. But we need to figure 'us' out. Figure out where this is going, how we're going to manage things.”
He smiled and rose from his chair, then circled around the table and knelt beside me. He took my hands in his and gave them an affectionate squeeze. “Don't you worry at all, Camille. We're going to take this one day at a time. We've got months before the baby is due, and we can spend that time getting to know each other more. Growing closer to each other. I'll make sure the baby is provided for, you have my word on that. And we'll figure 'us' out. The important thing is moving forward, right? We'll make a great future together. And when the time is right, when we have all the pieces in place and we know we're doing it for us, and not for the wrong reasons, then we'll talk about marriage, and the future, and all of that. Okay?”
Tears welled in my eyes. All I could do was nod. I leaned over and kissed his lips, glad that he was here for me, that he wasn't going to try to push me into something before I was ready. It was going to be a strange life, raising a baby with a daddy who was a billionaire and an ex-Navy SEAL. And a white boy, on top of that. My mama wouldn't bat an eyelash at the rest of it, but when I brought a white boy home to meet her, she was going to blow her top.
I put my arms around him and cradled his head against my chest. I hadn't expected any of this to happen, and I knew I wasn't ready for it. But was anyone ever really ready for a baby? The important thing was that our child would have two loving parents who would do anything to support and care for them. And I knew Jack would do whatever it took to provide for his child. Our baby wouldn't have to live through the kind of struggles my family had gone through while I was growing up. It wouldn't ever have to worry about whether there would be dinner on the table, or whether we could afford to take it to the doctor. It would grow up and go to college without ever having to worry about debt.
I cupped Jack's cheeks in my hands and raised his face towards mine. We kissed as tears of relief fell down my cheeks. After a few moments, our kiss became more urgent, filled with need. Jack stood up and took my hands, then led me out of the restaurant and to his car. We kissed more sitting in the parking lot, his hands roaming my body like we were a couple of teenagers. Then we went back to my apartment.
We headed back to the bedroom almost immediately. I worried about what Jack would think of my simple place, with my IKEA furniture and my dirty clothes strewn all over the floor. But he didn't show any signs of judgment for my middle-class lifestyle. He just focused on my needs, on my touch.
He lowered me onto the bed, gentle as can be. There was none of the urgent, athletic movement from our prior encounters. He was slow. He was tender. We savored every moment. He slowly pulled my clothes off, one piece at a time, his lips trailing kisses over the bare skin he exposed. Shivers ran up and down my body, and while part of me wanted to tell him to hurry and give me what I desperately needed, a bigger part of me wanted to cherish this experience.
We made love deep into the night, an elegant melding of our bodies into one. I lost track of time, of where Jack ended and I began, and of any worries beyond his touch, his kiss, his loving caress. Then, once it was over and our energy was spent, we lay there together as two lovers sharing each other's embrace.
Eventually Jack dozed off, and for a time I watched him sleep. My fingers traced tiny caresses along the lines of his face. I thought about the future and what it would bring. I thought about the life growing inside of me. I wondered whether it would be a boy or a girl. No matter what, this child would know love, support, and kindness in its life.
Our new life together would start the next day. I could already see it now. A new home, something simple, with no need for excessive luxuries. A big back yard our child could play in, unlike the row home I'd grown up in with barely more than a patch of scruffy grass out back. The best schools, the best care. And once our baby was grown, I knew we'd see the world together. I'd take my child to Africa, make sure it knew its roots. Recapture all of the history that my family had once lost. Laying there with Jack, dreaming of the future, I almost felt like I could actually see it all happening, like the folds of time were open to me and my baby's life was laid out there for me to explore.
In the morning I awoke with Jack still there in my arms. He opened his weary eyes and looked at me, a pleasant exhaustion etched across his features.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning, love,” I said, smiling at him.
We kissed, then we touched, then we made love again as streams of early dawn sunlight poured over us through the bedroom window. Eventually we got dressed, lost in the quiet comfort of two people who had shared the deepest parts of themselves. The gentle romance of the moment lasted until a grumbling in my stomach reminded me that we hadn't really finished dinner last night.
“Hungry?” Jack asked as he pulled on his shoes.
“Mm-hmm.” I sighed, remembering that I hadn't stocked up the fridge since I got back into the country. “Can we go out to eat?”
“Certainly.” Jack smirked, standing up and buckling on his belt. That swagger that had first drawn me to him was back in his every step. “As a matter of fact, I know a lovely little place.”
“Oh?” I could see by the mischievous light in his eyes that he was up to something.
“In Paris,” he said. A grin slowly spread across his face.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” I said. We didn't bother to pack. Jack promised to buy me new clothes once we got there. I couldn't wait to see what the most romantic city in the world had in stor
e for us. And it would be nice to travel around the world for pleasure, for once, instead of digging up ancient ruins and getting shot at by terrorists.
Though I reminded myself that when you were dating a rich, powerful, charming Navy SEAL, just about anything could happen.
SEALED BY DESIRE
Blake
When I stormed out of the office, I was still livid at my commanding officers. I knew that I had left in a rush of anger and emotions, but they probably expected that.
They wanted me to get some therapy. Therapy? Me? I was a Navy Seal and was taught to handle situations on my own. I didn’t ask for help. Working was everything to me, and it was bad enough that I was home in Maryland now due to an atrocious mess that happened back in Afghanistan. Sure, it was great to take my bike around on rides here and there, but I had been home for two weeks now. I was starting to get restless.
I found the shiny Harley in the parking lot and started the engine with a roar before I veered out into the street.
The accident still played through my mind. Accident wasn’t even the proper word. We were out in a small village over there in Afghanistan looking for a missing soldier and practicing the same safe techniques that we always did. It was supposed to be quick and thorough and quite honestly, something we did a lot.
I loved being a Seal. I knew back in Senior year in high school that I wanted to join the military and get out there. I wanted to derive my country as the other men in my family had done and do it well, just as they had. I chose the Navy with the hopes that I would be selected to train as a Seal, and I was just after I finished boot camp.
That was ten years ago, and I had never looked back, even though I was thrown off a little. Just a little and not needing therapy like they suggested back there. Fucking therapy. That was for really crazy people, and I had never made a move like that in my life. I lived very methodically, and all of my training was always in my mind, and I lived my life by all of those rules since joining the Navy. Hell, even before that I had a plan for my life watching my grandfather work his way through twenty years as well as my father in the Navy.