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His Secretary's Surprise Fiancé(29)

By:Joanne Rock


Her heartbeat stuttered. Her gaze flew back to his.

"Adelaide, these two weeks have shown me how perfect we are together."  He opened the box to reveal a stunningly rare blue garnet set in...of  all things...a tiny spoon ring design that replicated the spoon bracelet  he'd given her all those years ago when he'd had to forge a gift for  her with his own hands.

"Dempsey?" Her fingers trembled as she reached to touch it, hardly daring to believe what she was seeing. What she was hearing.

"It's not meant to replace your engagement ring. But I wanted to give you something special."

"I don't understand." She shook her head, overwhelmed by the generosity of the gift.

"We're best friends. We're even better lovers. And we're stronger  together." He tugged the ring from the velvet backing for her and slid  the box into his pocket. "This ring is my way of asking you to make our  engagement a real one. Will you marry me?"

Her emotions tumbled over each other: hope, joy, love and- Wait. Had he  even mentioned that part? Of course he must have. She just hadn't heard  it in the same way she'd missed the pilot's preliftoff speech because  she'd been marveling at how perfect a date this was. She hadn't been  paying attention.

Her hands hovered beside the ring.

"Did you...?" She felt embarrassed. Flustered. She should leap into his  arms and say yes. Any other woman would. But Adelaide had waited most  of her life to hear those words and she didn't want to miss any of it.  "I'm sorry. I was so mesmerized by the ring and the setting and-" She  gestured to the balloon above them and the scenery below. "It's all so  overwhelming. But are you saying you want to get married? For real?"  Happy tears pooled in her eyes already. "I love you so much."

And then she did fling herself into his arms, tears spilling onto the  beautiful silk collar of his tuxedo. But she was just so happy.

Only...he still hadn't said he loved her. Her declaration of love hung  suspended like a balloon between them. In fact, Dempsey patted her back  awkwardly now, as if that was his reply.

She hadn't missed the words in his proposal, she realized with a heart  sinking like lead. He simply hadn't said them. She knew, even before she  edged back and saw the expression on his face. Not bewildered, exactly.  More...unsure.

It wasn't an expression she'd seen on his face in many years. Her  Reynaud fiancé was used to getting what he wanted, and while he might  want Adelaide for a bride, it wasn't for the same reason that she would  have liked to be his wife.

"Adelaide. Think about the future we can have together. All the things  we can achieve." He must have seen her expression shifting from joy to  whatever it was she was feeling now.

Deflation.

"Marriage isn't about being a team or working well together." She  wrapped a hand around one of the ropes tying the basket to the balloon,  needing something to steady her without the solid strength of Dempsey  Reynaud beside her.

"There are far more reasons than that."

"There's only one reason that I would marry. Just one." She stared out  at the world coming closer to them now. Dempsey must have signaled Jim  to take them back down.

Their date was over.

"The ring is one of a kind, Adelaide. Like you." His words reminded her  of all she was giving up. All she would be turning her back on if she  refused him now.

But she'd waited too long for love to accept half measures now. She owed herself better.

"We both deserve to be loved," she told him softly, not able to meet  his gaze and feel the raw connection that was still mostly one-sided.  "You're my friend, Dempsey. And I want that for you as much as I want it  for me."

When the balloon touched down, it jarred her. Sent her tumbling into his arms before the basket righted itself.                       
       
           



       

She didn't linger there, though.

Her fairy tale had come to an end.





Twelve

Three days later, back home at the Hurricanes' training facility,  Dempsey envied the guys on the practice field. After the knife in the  gut that had been Adelaide's rejection, he would trade his job for the  chance to pull on shoulder pads and hit the living hell out of a  practice dummy. Or to pound out the frustration through his feet with  wind sprints-one set after another.

Instead, he roamed the steaming-hot practice field and nitpicked  performances while sweat beaded on his forehead. He blew his whistle a  lot and made everyone else work their asses off. Fair or not, teams were  built through sweat, and he'd played on enough teams himself to know  you balanced the good times-the wins-with the challenges. And if the  challenges didn't come on the field on Sunday, a good coach handed them  up in practice.

"Again!" he barked at the receivers running long patterns in the heat.  Normally, Dempsey focused on the full team as they practiced plays. But  today he had taken over the receiver coach's job.

In a minute, he'd move on to the running backs, since he'd already been through all the defensive positions.

Adelaide had not publicly broken their engagement yet, but she had  moved out of his house. Which shouldn't have surprised him after the  epic fail of his proposal. He'd planned for the moment all week. Spent  every spare second that he wasn't with his team figuring out how to make  the night special. Yet it had fallen short of the mark for her.

Of course, they hadn't gotten to half of it. He'd ordered an outdoor  dinner set up in the mountains with a perfect view of the sunset. He'd  had a classical guitarist in place, for crying out loud, so they could  dance under the stars.

And she hadn't even taken her ring.

Of all the things that had gone wrong that night, that bothered him the  most, given how much thought he'd put into the design. Sure, he was to  blame for not understanding that he could have scrapped the balloon, the  limo and the guitarist to simply say, "I love you." Except, in all his  planning, that had never occurred to him. He'd known what he felt for  Addy was big. But was it love? He'd shut down that emotional part of  himself long ago, probably on one of the nights his mother had locked  him out of the house, claiming some irrational fault on his part, but  mostly because she was high.

Love wasn't part of his vernacular.

That had worked out fine for him in the Reynaud house full of men.  Caring was demonstrated through externals. A one-two punch for a  greeting like what he and Jean-Pierre still exchanged. Covering up for  Henri when his younger brother had broken a priceless antique. His first  well-executed corporate raid had won the admiration of Gervais and Leon  alike.

Dempsey understood that world. It was his world, and he'd handed it to Adelaide on a silver platter, but it hadn't been enough.

And now he'd lost her in every way possible. As his friend. His lover. His future wife.

Stalking away from the receivers, he was about to put the running backs  to work when his brother Henri jogged over to match his steps.

"Got a second, Coach?" Henri used the deferential speech of a player, a  sign of respect Dempsey had never had to ask for, but which had always  been freely given even though Henri thought nothing of busting his chops  off the field.

"I probably have one." He kept walking.

Henri kept pace.

"Privately?" he urged in a tone that bordered on less deferential. "Practice was supposed to end an hour ago."

Surprised, Dempsey checked his watch.

"Shit. Fine." He blew his whistle loud enough for the whole field to  hear. "Thanks for the hard work today. Same time tomorrow."

A chorus of relieved groans echoed across the field. Dempsey changed course toward the offices. Henri still kept pace.

"You're killing the guys," Henri observed, his helmet tucked under one  arm, his practice jersey drenched with sweat. "Any particular reason?"

They were back to being brothers now that practice was done and no one would overhear.

"We have a tough game on Sunday and our first two wins have not been as  decisive as I would have liked." He halted his steps and folded his  arms, waiting for Henri to spit out whatever was on his mind. "You have a  problem with that?"

"I'm all about team building." Henri planted a cleat on the first row  of bleachers. "But you've run them long every day this week. Morale is  low. The guys are confused in the locker room. I know that's not what  you're going for."                       
       
           



       

"Since when do you snitch on locker-room talk about me?" Dempsey shooed  away one of the field personnel who came by to pick up a water cooler.  He didn't need an audience for this talk.

"Only since you started acting like a coach with a chip on his shoulder  instead of the supremely capable leader you've been the whole rest of  my tenure with this team."