Six Of The Best Of Desire 2016. Maisey Yates

twinkled blue of Lake Pontchartrain.

      The morning sun warmed her cheeks, sparking prisms across the room as it hit the Tiffany lamps. Glancing at her reflection in the gilded-gold mirror that was leaning on the mantel of the fireplace, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

      Mind wandering back, as it had a habit of doing lately, to Gervais. To the way his eyes lingered on her. And how that still ignited something in her...

      But it was so much more complicated than that. She pushed the thought away, moving past the cream-colored chaise longue and opening the cherrywood armoire. As if settling her belongings in drawers gave her some semblance of normalcy. A girl could try, after all.

      Her hand went to her stomach, to the barely perceptible curve of her stomach. A slight thickening to her waist. Her body was beginning to change. Her breasts were swollen and sensitive.

      And her emotions were in a turmoil.

      That unsettled her most of all. She was used to being seen as a focused academic, a military professional. Now she was adrift. Between jobs. Pregnant by a man she barely knew and with precious little time to settle her life before her family and the world knew of her pregnancy. She had a spot reserved for her in a graduate nursing program this fall, and she wanted to take coursework right up until her due date. But then what?

      A knock on the door pulled her back to the present. She opened the paneled door and found a lovely, slender woman, wearing a pencil-thin skirt and silky blouse, tons of caramel-colored hair neatly pinned up. A large, pink-lipstick smile revealed brilliant white teeth.

      She extended her hand. “Hello, I’m Adelaide Thibodeaux. Personal assistant to Dempsey Reynaud—the Hurricanes’ coach. Gervais asked me to check in on you. I just wanted to make sure, do you have everything you need?”

      Erika nodded. “Thank you. That is very kind of you to look in on me.”

      “I’ve been a friend of Dempsey’s since childhood. I am happy to help the family.” She wore sky-high pumps that would have turned Erika into a giantess—exactly the kind that she enjoyed wearing when she wasn’t pregnant and less sure-footed.

      “Did you have my things sent over?”

      Adelaide’s brow furrowed, concern touching the corners of her mouth. “Yes, did we miss anything?”

      “Everything is perfect, thank you,” she said, gesturing to the room behind her. “The home is lovely and comfortable, and I appreciate having my personal belongings sent over.”

      “We want you to enjoy your stay here in the States. It will be a wonderful publicity boon for the team to have royalty attending our games.”

      Erika winced. The last thing she wanted was more attention from the media. Especially before she knew how she was going to handle the next few months.

      Adelaide twisted her hands together, silver bracelets glinting in the sunlight. “Did I say something wrong?”

      “Of course not. It is just that I am not a fan of football, or competitive sports of any kind.” It was a half-truth. Certainly, no matter how she tried, she just didn’t understand the attraction of football. But she couldn’t tell Adelaide the real reason she didn’t want to be a publicity ploy.

      “And yet clearly you’re quite fit. You must work out.”

      “I was in the military until recently, and I do enjoy running and yoga, but I have to confess, team sports have never held any appeal for me.”

      “No?” Adelaide frowned. “Then I am not sure I understand why you are here— Pardon me. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s not my business.”

      Erika searched for a simple answer. “Gervais and I enjoyed meeting each other in England.” Understatement. “And since there is a conference in the area I plan to attend, I decided to visit.” Okay, the conference was a lie, but one she could live with for now.

      “Of course.” Understanding lit her gaze, as if she was not surprised that Gervais would inspire a flight halfway across the world. “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

      “Thank you. I appreciate your checking on me. But I am independent.” She had always been independent, unafraid of challenges.

      “I wasn’t sure of the protocol for visiting royalty,” Adelaide said, her voice curling into a question of sorts. As if a princess couldn’t fend for herself. “You are a princess.”

      “In name only, and even so, I am the fifth daughter.”

      “You’re humble.”

      “I have been called many things, but not that. I am simply...practical.”

      Pink lips slipped back up into a smile. “Well, welcome to New Orleans. I look forward to getting to know you better.”

      “As do I.” She had a feeling she was going to get to know everyone exceptionally well. Erika’s thoughts drifted back to Gervais. She certainly wanted to get to know him better.

      Adelaide started to leave, then turned back. “It might help you on game days if you think of football as a jousting field for men. You were in the military and come from a country famous for female warriors. Sure, I’m mixing time frames here with Vikings and medieval jousters, but still, if you see the game in the light of a joust or warrior competition, perhaps you may find yourself enjoying the event.”

      The door closed quietly behind her.

      A joust? She’d never considered football and jousting. Maybe...maybe she’d give that a shot.

      Her gaze floated back to the window, back to Lake Pontchartrain. It stretched before her like an exotic promise. Reminded her she was in a place that she didn’t know. And it might be in her best interest to find any way into this world.

      To make the most of these days here, to learn more about the father of her child, she would need to experience his world.

      And that meant grabbing a front-row seat.

      Yet even as she plucked out a change of clothes, she couldn’t help wondering... Had Adelaide Thibodeaux welcomed many other women into this home on Gervais’s behalf?

      * * *

      Today was quite the production. Gervais watched the bustle of people filling the owners’ suite at Zephyr Stadium for a preseason game day. Tickets for special viewing in the owners’ box were sold at a premium price to raise money for a local charter school, so there were more guests than usual in the large luxury suite that normally accommodated family and friends.

      His sister-in-law Fiona Harper-Reynaud was a renowned local philanthropist, and her quarterback husband was the golden boy of New Orleans, which added allure to her fund-raising invitation. Henri—beloved by fans as the Bayou Bomber—was the face of their franchise and worth every cent of his expensive contract. He was a playmaker with the drive and poise necessary to make it in the league’s most closely dissected position.

      The fact that female fans loved him was a bonus, even though it must be tough for Fiona sometimes. But she seemed to take it in stride, leveraging his popularity for worthy causes. Today her philanthropic guests sat casually on the dark leather chairs that lined the glass of the owners’ suite. Half-eaten dishes with bottles of craft beer peppered the table in front of them as the clock ticked down the end of the second quarter that saw the Hurricanes up by three points.

      Yet Gervais’s eyes sought only one person. Erika.

      He’d been busy greeting guests and overseeing some last-minute game-day business earlier, so he hadn’t gotten to spend any time with her yet. She was tucked away, in a leather sofa by the bar, sipping a glass of sparkling water with lemon, wearing a silky, fitted turquoise dress that brushed her knees and caressed her curves with understated sex appeal. He knew full well where those enhanced curves came from.

      From carrying his baby inside her.

      She scrunched her toes in her heeled