Six Of The Best Of Desire 2016. Maisey Yates

her ground, meet her parents and family dead-on, might also be the reason he felt frozen out.

      The more he thought about it, the more real seemed the idea of losing not just his children, but her, too.

      And as if she sensed his thoughts, she got to her feet. “Gervais, my family’s here, so I would appreciate it if we didn’t sleep together with them nearby.”

      “Seriously?” He propped himself up on his elbows.

      “I know it may seem silly with the babies on the way, but...them being here? I need space.”

      He studied her face, her platinum-blond hair tumbling around her shoulders. “Damn it, Erika, all I’ve done is honor your need for space, taking cues off you.”

      “A few short days. Less than a month. And you call that space? Time?” Her throat moved. “Clearly we have very different ideas about taking our time. Maybe we don’t understand each other nearly as well as you think.”

      Frustration fired inside him as he felt victory slip away word by word. He tugged on his pants, all the while searching for the right words and coming up short.

      Not that it mattered, since before he could speak, she’d left the room. The click of that door made it clear.

      She was running scared and he wasn’t welcome to join her now.

      If ever.

       Twelve

      The excitement of the fans at the home Hurricanes game was dwarfed in comparison to the buzz going on in the owners’ box.

      Erika sat against the leather chair, taking it all in, her heart in her throat after the way she’d left things with Gervais last night. But the way he made her feel scared her down to her toes. He made her want too much at a time when she had to be more careful than ever about protecting her heart and her future.

      Gramps Leon called out to the Mitras clan. “Did Erika tell you how the Reynauds came into their fortune?”

      “No, Leon, she hasn’t shared much of anything with us. We’d love to know. American origin stories are so fascinating,” Hilda said darkly, shooting her a daggered look across the spread of shrimp gumbo and decadent brownies. Erika rolled her eyes, moving closer to the glass to get a look at the field. Somehow, this game she had disliked so much was starting to make sense to her.

      “Grampa Leon, we all know that story,” Fiona said with a light laugh, her hands wringing together. She was nervous but Erika couldn’t tell why.

      “Yes, but the beautiful princesses and queen haven’t. And they want to. Who am I to deny them that?” he said with a wink at Hilda, whose face was already turning into a toothy grin.

      “It was a high-stakes poker game. My surly old Cajun ancestor was sweating as he stared at his hand of cards. The stakes were incredibly high, you see,” Gramps Leon began, leaning on his knees.

      “What were the stakes, Leon?” Queen Arnora asked, on her best behavior, since Erika had been emphatic with her mother that histrionics would not be tolerated. The babies were Erika and Gervais’s, not potential little royal pawns.

      Arnora had vowed she simply wanted to bond with their expanding family and was thrilled over impending grandparenthood.

      “If my riverboat grandpa won, he would get a ship out of the deal. But if he lost, he would have to sign a non-compete. And stay working for the tyrant captain who kept him away from home for months on end. Needless to say, the cards laid out right for him and he won the first ship in the fleet. The Reynaud family empire was born. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers, eyes alight with a new audience to entertain. “The rest is history. The family has been successful ever since. Especially my grandboys.”

      King Bjorn inclined his head. “You feel responsible for your grandchildren’s success?”

      “Yessir, King Bjorn. I’m proud of all of those boys. Feel like I practically raised them myself. Though I kind of did,” Gramps Leon wheezed, eyes drifting to Theo, who shrank in the back corner, “My son almost made it big...eh. No matter. My grandboys did. That’s what matters in the end.”

      Erika watched as Theo fidgeted with his drink, balling up a cocktail napkin in his right fist. She knew he hadn’t been the best father, but a small part of her felt sympathy for him.

      “And what did all your grandchildren do?” Arnora asked lightly, swirling the champagne in her glass.

      Erika had often wondered how her mother had such ease with others but not as much with her children. Her mom took her role as a royal, a liaison to the world, seriously. Erika looked around at the Reynaud family and saw their bond, but not only that. She saw their relaxed air. The way they kept life...real. Connected. She wanted that for her children, as well.

      And yet she’d pushed her babies’ father away the night before out of fear of living like her parents.

      Gramps Leon’s dark eyes gleamed with pride and affection. “Well, you know Gervais bought his own team. I figure they’ll make it big soon the way that boy works. And Dempsey is the youngest coach in the league’s history. Henri is already a franchise quarterback looking for his first championship ring. Even Jean-Pierre is doing good things as a quarterback for that northern Yankee team. Where is he again?”

      Theo cleared his throat. “New York. Jean-Pierre is the starting quarterback for the New York Gladiators.” Pride pierced his words, and he lifted his eyes to meet Leon’s. So he did care, Erika thought. It was just masked.

      She wished it was that easy to tell what was going on with Gervais. Nothing he’d said so far betrayed any level of an emotional depth. Just sex. But that wasn’t enough for her. And that was the reason she hadn’t been able to help but pull away the night before.

      Last night when she’d gone to him, she’d believed he might really care for her. Sure, the sex was great and he wanted to provide for their children. But she’d started to think that he also genuinely liked her, sex and children aside.

      Before then, she’d been so sure of him. Of the decision she was close to making.

      As she sat in the owners’ box again, she realized she couldn’t stop replaying seeing the bed empty when she woke up, knowing it was her fault for pushing him away but not knowing what she could have done differently. Erika would have continued to analyze the situation if it wasn’t for the approach of Liv, her sister. The one that had been through the sex tape fiasco.

      The scandal had almost cost Liv everything.

      Liv narrowed her gunmetal eyes at Erika, pinning her. She sat next to Erika, hands firmly grasping the wineglass’s stem. The smell of alcohol assaulted Erika’s sense of smell, turning her stomach sour.

      “Sister,” she said lazily, “this family...”

      Erika straightened, finishing the sentence for her. “Is filled with wonderful, loving people.”

      Liv nodded solemnly. “Yes. And how do you say—American royalty?”

      Erika’s eyes remained out toward the field, toward where Gervais stood with a reporter giving an interview, players and photographers around them. She would not be dignifying her sister’s comment with a response.

      “All I am trying to say, dear sister, is that you need to be here. You could be royalty for real if you did.” Liv’s words, spoken in a hushed tone, had a bit of a slur to them.

      “That’s not what matters to me. What matters is—” But the words caught in her throat as she watched Gervais get hit by two men locked in a tackle. Gervais was on the sidelines, knocked to his feet, his bare skull slamming back into the ground. Hard. Tackled on the sidelines with no equipment.

      She barely registered what the Mitrases or the Reynauds were doing. In an instant, the panic that stayed her breath and speech was