They made a slow meander of the first floor, then stepped out a side door to a beautiful courtyard. “So tell me, how are things going with you and Sebastian?”
Though Armand’s voice was casual, Renata wasn’t sure whether the older man meant the training or the nonexistent relationship. Deciding discretion was best at the moment, she went with the safest topic of conversation.
“Better than I imagined,” she finally said. “Sebastian’s a good trainer and I’m now a Hard Knocks girl for life. I’m in the best shape ever.”
Armand gave her a long, measuring look, but what he was looking for, Renata didn’t know and he probably didn’t find. “Sebastian’s a good man, very dedicated to whatever he sets his mind to. You could do worse than have him as your trainer and manager.”
“I realize that,” she said softly. Then because she couldn’t keep it contained, she added, “I know exactly how dedicated he is. After all, he wouldn’t be where he is today without that focus on his career. And neither would I.”
She had to remember that. Helping her train for and win the belt benefited them both. Professionally, life was great. Personally, uncertainty gnawed at her. She and Bas had fantastic sex, but she needed more than that. Especially now.
“Renata?”
She jumped at Duparte’s soft query, then pasted on a smile. “We should return to the guys. Somebody’s probably got someone in a headlock and they need you to referee.”
Dinner was a delicious arrangement that would put any four-star restaurant on notice. Renata gave in to temptation and allowed herself to indulge in a couple of traditional New Orleans dishes that she knew she’d have to work extra hard to work off later, but it was so worth it.
“I want to hug Anne, that meal was so good,” Renata said with a contented sigh. “If I hadn’t already decided to stay in New Orleans, this food would definitely convince me.”
All four men turned toward her. “You’re staying?” Bas asked, his voice soft.
Raphael interrupted with a delighted laugh before she could reply. “So the Bourbon Street Brawler convinced you to stay already? Congrats man—that’s some quick work.”
Renata glanced from one man to the next, noting the knowing look on Raphael’s face and Bas’s tightening features. “Bas didn’t have anything to do with my decision.” He hadn’t asked her to stay with him, anyway. He hadn’t asked her anything, he’d only demanded. “Staying in New Orleans was always part of the plan.”
“Oh, so there’s a master plan beyond winning the women’s welterweight championship?” Raphael asked her, waggling his eyebrows at Sebastian. “What’s next for you?”
Renata took a deep breath, then dove into the deep end. “Retiring from boxing.”
“Retire?” Bas gaped at her. “Why? You still have some good boxing years left.”
“Thanks for saying that, but I’ve done my time and I’m ready to move on.”
He shook his head, his frown deepening. “I’ve watched you train, throwing your whole self into it. You want this fight.”
“Of course I do.”
“Yet you want to just stop after you win it?” He folded his arms across his chest. “Doesn’t sound like the Renata Giordano I know.”
She pushed back from the table then stood, her hands settling on her hips. “I haven’t seen you in five years. I’d say you don’t know me as well as you think you do!”
“Ooh, burn!” Raphael cooed. “This is better than any blockbuster—and we’ve got ringside seats!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Sebastian growled. Standing, he reached for Renata’s hand. “Come on. We need to have this discussion without an audience.”
Ignoring her protests, he guided her through Duparte’s home and out to the garden. He knew something bothered her. He’d noticed the change when she’d returned from the kitchen, and her mood hadn’t improved. He’d already planned to talk to Duparte but now … he needed to know what was wrong so he could fix it.
Darkness had crept in during dinner, but soft lighting in the landscaping and the stone fountain provided enough illumination. He sat her on a bench then turned to face her. “All right then, enlighten me. Why I should spend the next few weeks training you for a title just so you can walk away afterward? Why accept the shot in the first place?”
“To prove myself.”
“Prove yourself?” he echoed. “You’ve been a champion. What the hell do you have to prove, and who do you have to prove it to?”
“To myself!” She shot to her feet. “I need to prove that I don’t need Roddy to win! I need to prove that I’m good enough without him.”
“Are you kidding me?” he roared. “Of course you are!”
He stopped, red splashing across his vision. “Holy fuck. Is that what that pissant told you? That you couldn’t make it without him?”
Renata’s shoulders drooped. “He was there when Dad died. I leaned on him, I trusted him. He helped me keep it together when my world was falling apart. I was grateful to him for that. So yes, I thought I needed him. I felt like I owed him. He wanted me romantically and I thought I wanted him that way too.”
She pushed her hair back from her forehead, her expression tired. “When he asked me to marry him, I automatically said yes. It seemed like the right thing to do. But I couldn’t set a date. I kept coming up with reasons to delay, even in Vegas, the town of quick marriages. I remember how much Mom and Dad loved each other, and how Mom still says that Dad was her one true love and how important it was to not settle. I felt like I owed Roddy, but I owed my parents more. I owed it to them and to myself to have the closest thing to their marriage I could possibly get. So I gave Roddy back his ring and asked if we could revert to our professional relationship.”
She snorted. “To say it didn’t go over well is an understatement. That’s when he unloaded all this crap on me about how I was nothing without him, how he sacrificed everything to make me a success, and … and other things I’d rather not remember.”
She looked down at her hands, and his heart ached for her. He could well imagine what a weak-spined ass like Cooper would say to make Renata doubt herself.
“Renata.” He waited until she looked at him before continuing. “You were good before Cooper. You know that. And you’re good without him. Hell, if we stop training now you’ll still be the best boxer out there.”
“That’s why I’m going to do things my way from now on.” She placed a hand over her heart. “Not your way, not Dad’s, not Roddy’s, I’m going to win that title, claim the purse and the belt, and then I’m going to retire.”
“And do what?”
“More work with the Girls Up Foundation. They like the results of what I’ve done for them so far, and they’ve asked me to come on board permanently.”
She took a deep breath and blew it out, her dark eyes serious as she faced him. “I’m going to accept, find a nice place here to settle down, move my mom back, and then I’m going to start a family.”
Bas took a step back, feeling as if he’d been on the receiving end of a punishing bout. “You … you want to start a family?”
She nodded. “I want to have my own child. It’s going to take some time to recondition my body from boxing to birthing, which is another reason to retire now. If it doesn’t work, I’ll look into surrogacy or adoption. But I’d really like to have kids. I feel ready and I don’t want to put it off for much longer.”
An image of Renata rounded with child assaulted him. He had to clench his hands to hide the sudden tremble as his world threatened to topple off its foundations. Longing, pure and potent swept through him, overpowering his senses. He wanted her to have her family, wanted it with everything within him. But he’d be damned if he’d let her have it with anyone besides him.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve left you speechless,” she wisecracked, though her voice had a trembling edge to it. “I’d write this down in my diary if I kept one.”
It took him a moment to speak. “I thi
nk you’d be a fantastic mother, and the opportunity to work with the Girls Up Foundation sounds like a perfect fit for you.” He took her hand. “You won’t have to adopt unless you want to. And you won’t have to use a surrogate either.”
She laughed, unsure of his meaning. “I’m not on a deadline, though I have to admit it feels like the clock is ticking, especially since I don’t have prospects lining up to donate to the cause.”
“Yes, you do.” He turned to face her fully, his gaze boring into hers. “Me.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You? You want to father my kids?”
He straightened his shoulders. “You sound surprised by my offer.”
“I am.”
“Is it really so impossible that I’d want to be the father of your children?”
“Well, yeah,” she answered, flustered.
His jaw clenched. “Why?”
Renata stared at him, flummoxed. How could he not see what a bad idea this was? It was so perfectly ludicrous she wanted to laugh. She didn’t. She was too surprised. Surprised, and a little stung. Sebastian offered to father her child. Yet at no time had he said he loved her or wanted to marry her. At no time had he asked her what she wanted.
Memories swamped her, memories of their last day together five years ago. Bas, his face a granite mask, telling her he chose boxing over her, that he needed to focus on his career and couldn’t afford to be distracted. That’s all she’d been to him then, a fling that had distracted him from his boxing career, the most important thing in his life. She’d loved him with everything in her and she’d only been a damned distraction. What if that was all she was to him now?
She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t accept his offer. If she did, he’d be in her life forever. There was no way he’d agree to father her children and then walk away. No, Sebastian would want to be a part of her children’s lives, her life, demanding that things go his way, and if she didn’t agree, he had the power and the money to take her kids from her. It would be different if he’d offered marriage and love. But he hadn’t. He’d only offered sex and the results that came from it.
She wanted more. She needed more. She needed Bas to love her as much as she’d loved him then, as much as she loved him now. If he didn’t want her for everything, she couldn’t give him anything.
“Why Rennie?” he prodded when she remained silent too long.
“Several reasons. It’s us we’re talking about here. It’s one thing to train and have sex. It’s a whole other thing to have you impregnate me.”
“You still haven’t given me any reasons why not, Rennie,” he said with infinite patience as if she were a stubborn child. “Given the amazing sex and the amount of practice we have, I think I could manage the impregnating part with no problem.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Why are you willing to be my sperm donor?”
“I’m not.”
The slash of pain was so sudden and sharp she couldn’t breathe for a moment. “Of course not. So there’s really no point in continuing this conversation, is there?”
“You’re misunderstanding me.” He pulled her closer. “I don’t want to be your sperm donor. I want to be the father of your children. I’m going to give you children, Renata. But I’m giving them to you as your husband.”
“Husband?” She needed to sit down. She needed a drink. She needed to escape whatever weird alternate universe she’d slipped into. “You want to be my husband?”
“All this disbelief is hell on a man’s ego. If I’m going to be a father, especially of your children, then I’m damn well going to be a husband too. Why is that a shock to you?”
“Because we haven’t gone a day without yelling at each other.” She shook her head. “Hell—I used you as a punching bag my first week here!”
“A punch I deserved,” he reminded her, a slight smile on his lips. “You’re not planning on punching me again, are you?”
“Of course not!” She backed away from him, fear spilling like ice into her veins. Fear that she loved Bas too much. That he only wanted her because he’d made a mistake in letting her go in the first place, and he hated making mistakes.
It was so tempting, so very tempting to take his offer. She loved him enough. But while she knew he wanted her now, it wasn’t enough. She didn’t want to be owned. She didn’t want to be a possession like his titles, his cars, his company. She wanted to be cherished, wanted their children to be a product of love, not a business transaction. If that’s all it meant to him she’d rather be alone, as painful a prospect as that was.
“Bas,” she choked out. “We can’t do this.”
“Yes, we can.” Determination hardened his features. “We are.”
“I can’t,” she whispered, the only way she could force the words out. She shook her head, straightening her spine. “I can’t. You want to father my child because you don’t want me to turn to anyone else. You offer marriage because you don’t want me to be with anyone else.”
“Damn right,” he snarled at her. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine!”
“Yours.” Pain chopped through her. “A possession like your championships, your cars, your money? A wife and kids are not possessions, Bas. A child needs to feel like he’s cherished, not owned.” So does a wife.
“I know that!” he roared.
“Do you? Do I? We’re so different from when we were together. We don’t know each other anymore. We have no idea if we could have a real relationship.”
“We’re living together. We’re having the best sex of our lives. We’re working together toward the common goal of getting you that championship title.” He folded his arms across his chest, irritation marring the perfection of his features. “Sounds like stuff married couples do all the time.”
“And what’s supposed to happen after the championship?” she demanded, her voice cracking as her fears spilled out. “A husband is not the same thing as a trainer. And managing dozens of companies and billions of dollars is not the same as being a father. You can’t just yell and throw money and issue orders and expect everything to go your way. Intimidation is no way to be a family.”
“Intimidation?” He abruptly stilled, body tense as if awaiting a blow. “You’re afraid, aren’t you? Afraid of me, of what I might do.”
She wanted to deny it, but couldn’t make the lie come. “Yes.”
He took a step back from her with a pained groan, a stricken look on his face that hurt her heart to see. “Christ, Rennie, just say that you don’t think I’d be good husband and father material and leave it at that. No need to twist my balls off while you’re at it.”
He turned on his heel and stalked away.
CHAPTER NINE
What the hell just happened?
Pain gripped Renata’s heart, obliterating the need to call Sebastian back, to apologize. He’d looked at her as if she’d sucker-punched him. As if she’d broken his heart instead of the other way around.
She stared up at the night sky, struggling to breathe past the sobs that threatened to choke her. How could he not understand that there were things she wanted too—things she needed to hear from him? She’d promised herself that she’d be on her own rather than be with a man who didn’t love her, a man who only wanted what he could take from her. Even though the love she felt for Sebastian was all-consuming, even though he offered everything any sane woman could ask for or hope to have, being with him wouldn’t work if it was one-sided. Without love, it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
Even now she felt her resolve weakening. Even now she wanted to apologize to him, to give in and say yes to a man who only spoke about what he wanted, not what they wanted or needed, or could have together if they both loved each other. So what if he didn’t love her? Maybe he wasn’t capable of love—it wasn’t like he’d had a good example of it growing up. Maybe all he could offer was the physical passion. She’d be a fool to refuse him—she’d have the children she wanted, the security of marriage … and she�
�d slowly die inside, waiting for Sebastian to inevitably choose something or someone else over her like he’d done before.
“Renata.”
She turned to find Duparte standing in the doorway. Disappointment weighted down his features and Renata knew somehow that she was the one who’d disappointed him. The pain spread through her chest, leaving her gasping for breath and fighting tears.
“Mr. Duparte,” she managed, trying to find enough air to speak, to apologize, to ask about Sebastian. Her lungs refused to work, but she tried. “Armand …”
Concern chased away disappointment as he took a step forward, reaching for her. “Renata, are you all right?”
She shook her head violently, arms wrapped around herself in a futile effort to keep from falling apart. Sebastian had finally broken her, and it took all her energy to keep herself together. She could fall apart later when she was alone. Except she’d have to go back to Sebastian’s house, get her things … “Oh, God.”
Duparte guided her to a bench and eased her down. “Breathe,” he ordered, rubbing a hand on her spine. “Breathe in, now out. That’s it.”
She did as he asked, and the burn slowly eased from her lungs. Minutes passed as she sat there, holding back tears as Duparte comforted her. It so reminded her of five years ago, when her father had comforted her after Bas broke up with her, and tears spilled again.
“Why can’t he love me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Inwardly she cringed at the pathetic sound, but she needed to know and Duparte was the closest Bas had to a father figure. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t open myself up to him again but I did and I’ve let him hurt me. Again. But it hurts so much worse this time. I know his childhood wasn’t the best, but I’d hoped … is it something about me or something in his past that makes him unable to love?”
Duparte looked at her in surprise. “You think he doesn’t love you?”
“It’s the truth. He hasn’t said the words. He’s never said the words.”
“Have you?”
“Back then, yes. He broke things off the very next day.” Her hands fisted on her knees. “Now I think he wants me just to want me, and I can’t do that. I just can’t. Not until I know that I’m more than just a possession to him.”
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