Secret Baby Scandal(7)

"Deal." His agreement was quick and easy, catching her off guard. He took her hand in his. "You have my word."

His touch sparked memories of another time they'd been face-to-face  like this-arguing heatedly about her court case. He'd touched her to  emphasize a point, perhaps. And somewhere in that moment, the chemistry  of the contact had shifted, turning heated. Making it impossible to pull  their hands off of each other. She felt the weight of that moment now,  along with the possibility that it could happen again if she wasn't  careful. It was there, in her fluttering pulse. In her rapid breathing.

She hovered there, on that razor's edge between tension and attraction,  understanding too late how easy it would be to slide into that  dangerous terrain.

"Sleep well then." He lifted her hand to his lips. Brushed a brief kiss  along the backs of her fingers as though it was the most natural thing  in the world. "I'll pick you up in the morning so we can speak to your  father together. And make no mistake, I will be there by your side."

She nodded, her mouth dry, her skin tingling where he'd kissed her. She  watched Jean-Pierre turn to leave and show himself out, her emotions  tangled, knotted and taut. She had thought telling him about their child  would be the most difficult thing she'd ever have to do. But now,  feeling the way her body still responded to him, she knew that resisting  the lure of a Reynaud man would be a challenge beyond anything she'd  imagined.





Three

Between NFL games, Jean-Pierre had a week to strategize. He studied his  opponent, searching for weaknesses and ways to exploit them. He  developed a game plan and made adjustments right up until the moment  when he took the field to execute it.

With Tatiana, he didn't have a week for anything.

He'd had twelve intense hours to get his head around fatherhood before  facing her family with news that had obviously blindsided them. Twelve  hours to figure out his game plan, when his whole world was off balance.  And while they'd delivered the news to the Doucets in their living room  half an hour ago and it had gone as smoothly as could be expected,  Jean-Pierre now braced himself for whatever his coach wanted to say to  him privately. In a room nearby, the women took turns holding César  while he watched Jack Doucet shut the door behind him and turn on him.

"You bastard." Red-faced, his coach stared him down with a fury he no  longer hid. A defensive end in his college days, Jack had softened in  his coaching years, a rounded gut and flushed face attesting to the  comfortable life of a man who didn't deny himself any pleasures.

But right now, with the look in the older man's eye, Jean-Pierre didn't  doubt for a second the guy would deliver one hell of a hit if he  decided to come after him.

"She didn't tell me," Jean-Pierre reminded him, remembering the time  the coach had hurled a helmet across the locker room into a rookie's  head for missing his play cue. "I didn't know until last night and I'm  here now-"

"Don't bullshit me. A man always knows there's a chance." Jack's fists  clenched at his sides, his chin jutting closer. "That's my daughter  we're talking about."

"And that's my son." Jean-Pierre kept his voice quiet, recognizing the  imperative of keeping a lid on this conversation with the women in the  other room. "And since we both want to protect our families, I suggest  we figure out how to have this discussion without upsetting anyone on  the other side of that door." His heart slugged hard in his chest.                       
       
           



       

He did not want a brawl to commemorate this day. That wasn't the kind of start he needed with Tatiana.

"As much as I'd like to plant my fist in your jaw, even if it cost you a  game, Reynaud, you have a point." The older man spun on his heel and  turned to the bar. He poured himself a measure of Irish whiskey from a  bottle centered on a silver serving tray.

Jean-Pierre hoped the whiskey cooled him off. He edged back a step,  waiting to resume their conversation once Jack had a hold of himself.

All around the study were framed news clippings and photographs from  Jack's career as a head coach in New York. The most prominent photos  were of the team's two division championships and a Super Bowl win four  years ago. There were no photos from Jack's years as Leon Reynaud's  second in command for the Mustangs, even though the two of them had  taken the team to new heights, developing a fast style of offense copied  throughout the league and setting records in passing that still stood  today.

Jack had severed all ties with Leon and the Reynauds until he needed a  strong quarterback to lead the Gladiators. Even then, the head coach  hadn't done much to make Jean-Pierre feel welcome in New York. They'd  simply worked toward their common goal to make the Gladiators a  powerhouse team again.

"You've got a hell of a lot of nerve." Jack slammed the whiskey glass  on the desk as he turned to face him. "I brought you to New York to give  you a chance to step out of the family shadow. To make your own mark on  this game. And this is how you repay me?" He gripped the neck of the  whiskey bottle tighter, his voice low.

"Now I'd like to return the favor and ask that you don't try to  bullshit me. You didn't bring me here out of the kindness of your heart.  You brought me here to win games," he said evenly. "I've done that and  more."

Jack remained silent as he scrubbed a hand through thinning hair.

"I've played my part for you," Jean-Pierre continued. "A little too  damn well now that I think about it. It's one thing for you to ask me to  win games, but it was another to expect me to stay away from Tatiana."

He'd backed off ten years ago when she had sided with her family and  told him they were through. But all those old feelings hadn't just  evaporated because Jack Doucet told his daughter not to see him anymore.  They'd been festering somewhere inside them both, only to implode that  day in the courtroom when he'd confronted her after the case.

"I should have never brought you to the Gladiators," Jack muttered, pouring himself a third shot.

"Beyond the winning record, I've provided the locker-room stability you  need to keep a team of aging veterans and wild rookies on the same page  each week. If you're unhappy with my performance, I'm happy to revisit  our terms at contract time." Knowing he wasn't going to smooth over this  problem today, he wondered how soon he could reasonably walk out of the  Doucet household with Tatiana and his son.

His son.

He still couldn't think about the magnitude of that news without the  words reverberating through him long afterward. But he needed to move  past the awe of it fast in order to protect César's future. He had so  much to organize, so many plans to put in place. Not the least of which  was convincing Tatiana to stay with him.

It was a feat that he'd never achieve while her father remained furious  with him. But dammit, he needed to ensure César had the kind of  stability his own life had lacked. Theo's illegitimate son-Jean-Pierre's  half brother, Dempsey-had suffered the consequences of their father's  choices his whole life. Jean-Pierre didn't want that for César.

"I don't care if you set the record for completions this season." The  older man raised his voice, scaring off a heavy gray tabby cat that had  been snoozing on the leather chair behind the desk. The animal took  cover behind a red drapery and peered down into the expansive view of  Central Park. "I want my daughter happy and my grandson to have a name."

"He has my name. My protection. All the resources my family can  possibly give him." He'd been up most of the night working out details  with his lawyer to ensure paperwork was already in motion.                       
       
           



       

"Let me be clearer." Jack shook a finger too damn close to  Jean-Pierre's face. "I want my grandson to have a name that isn't  Reynaud."

"Nevertheless, I will do everything possible to ensure Tatiana is taken  care of as well. You know as well as I do that being a Reynaud ensures  she'll never want for anything."

"Meaning you will marry her?" Appearing to mull this over, Jack strode  over to the tabby cat, picked it up and stroked the animal's broad head.

"She asked me not to pressure her about that and I will do as she requests."

"But you will see that it happens." The coach met his gaze over the cat's head.

It was a directive, not a question. Maybe Jean-Pierre would have resisted more if he hadn't been on the same page with the man.

"That's my intent. Yes. But I'm curious. You wouldn't protest a union    between families? Despite the rift?" He remembered a time when the  Doucets had taken away Tatiana's car as a punishment for driving to see  him.