"Is Kimberly still running the ranch on the island?" She was the youngest of Uncle Christophe's large family, a sweet-natured girl Jean-Pierre remembered fondly from visits to the ranch when they were kids.
"Yes. But Gervais called Colton directly to make sure the island would be available that day. Apparently they're bumping a scheduled cruise from the stop to ensure Gervais and Princess Erika will have total privacy."
"Thanks for the heads-up. I'll let Tatiana know we'll be on the move." He'd been concerned about the extra press attention the wedding would bring to the family. "The additional security will make things easier for her."
Dempsey hesitated.
"What is it?" Jean-Pierre saw movement up by the house and spotted Tatiana on the patio.
He lifted a hand to wave to her.
"Have you read today's headlines about the two of you?" Dempsey reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone.
"I checked in yesterday long enough to assure myself the story about her coming down here with me read roughly as expected." He'd seen her misquoted in a few places, but for the most part, the story ran as Coach's Daughter Bets Against Home Team, or some variation of the basic theme.
Just what he'd anticipated and not the end of the world given the way he'd downplayed it.
"Today they're rehashing that whole court case she won against your friend Marcus Caruthers." Dempsey flipped his phone around to show him the story, complete with sketches from the courtroom showing Tatiana interviewing Marcus on the stand.
The case-which Jean-Pierre considered to be completely unfounded-against one of the game's best running backs had put Marcus out of a contract. Jean-Pierre had done his best to support his friend despite the torrent of bad press he'd received after inflammatory claims of sexual harassment, but the judgment Tatiana had won against him effectively ended his career. The article included quotes Jean-Pierre had given the media at the time, quotes that were now used to suggest a feud between him and Tatiana-one that started with the old family rift and ended with the court battle.
"Marcus didn't deserve this." He thrust the phone back at his brother. "Not then and not now."
"Her client lied. No doubt. But that's not her fault." Dempsey jammed the device back in the pocket of his cargo shorts. "But you must have reached the same conclusion or else you wouldn't be sharing the parenting duties now." He flashed a grin as he backed up a step. "Don't forget about that clerk's office. It's open for four more hours today."
Jean-Pierre gave him a thumbs-up, the most he could manage with the new weight crushing his chest. The truth was, he hadn't come close to making peace with Tatiana for raining hell on his friend's career and personal life. She'd done her job with ruthless precision, winning a judgment for a woman who'd perjured herself, although Tatiana hadn't seen it that way.
He'd been trying not to think about that case in his rush to wrap his head around becoming a father. But maybe today they needed to address the issue that had pushed them both to the boiling point last winter. He'd walked away from her after an unforgettable night-that's how upset he'd been. He'd told her he wouldn't ever make the same mistake, words that had obviously wounded her deeply since she hadn't come to him about her pregnancy sooner.
As he watched her stride down the dock in a fluttery crimson-colored bathing-suit cover-up, he wondered if she'd forgiven him for the things he'd said. It hardly seemed possible since he wasn't sure he'd forgiven her, either. Hopeful mood sinking, he stepped up onto the dock to greet her. He'd face the situation the way he faced any football matchup-grind it out until he got the outcome he sought.
Lucky for him, a victory with this vibrant, sensual woman promised far more satisfying rewards.
Five
To the woman Tatiana had been before her pregnancy, making her way down the dock in a bathing suit just five and a half weeks after giving birth would have been out of the question. But as much as she wished she fit into the sleek black one-piece a bit more easily, she also couldn't deny a certain relief that she had higher priorities now than how good she looked in swimwear. Her body had given her César. And since she loved to swim, she'd made a special appointment with her midwife after she returned to New York to make sure she was safe to go in the water. The laps in her building's heated pool had relaxed her.
If she was a little worse for wear in a bathing suit, so what? She'd figure out what to do with the extra curves next time she went shopping.
Until then thank goodness for cover-ups. The gauzy crimson-paisley tunic felt breezy and pretty as she strode down the wooden planks toward the boat. Right now, she intended to make the most of this break while her son napped under the watchful eye of the nanny.
She could see one of Jean-Pierre's brothers just stepping off the watercraft and she braced herself as he headed toward her.
There was a look to the Reynaud men, making it tricky to tell who was who from a distance. They were all tall with athletic builds. Television didn't do professional athletes justice; because they were viewed in context and next to one another, they all looked a similar size. But when a football player stood next to a regular person, it was impossible not to appreciate the way they were built on a whole different scale.
As the man drew closer, she recognized Dempsey, Jean-Pierre's half brother, from his square jaw and the cleft in his chin, traits he must have inherited from his mother. But his dark hair and brown eyes with hints of green were straight-up Reynaud features.
"Hello, Dempsey." She greeted him with a smile despite the nervous butterflies in her stomach.
How would this family view her after the way she'd kept Jean-Pierre in the dark about his son? In particular, how would this man view her, given he'd been kept from his father as a child?
"Tatiana." He opened his arms and surprised her with a quick embrace. "I'm so glad you're here. I know my brother is anxious to spend time alone with you, but I hope you'll have dinner with the family tonight." A half grin lifted his lips. "That is, if you're up for a reunion with all of us at once. Gervais has a hell of a chef working for him, so we could meet at his place. His fiancée, Erika, wants to see us all so she can share some new details about their wedding."
Tatiana's stomach clenched. A meal with all the Reynauds at once? Nothing like trial by fire. Still, she was heartened by Dempsey's warm reception. The sun seemed to shine a little brighter, glistening off the lightly rolling waves lapping the dock moorings.
"Thank you. That sounds great." She was genuinely curious to meet the women who'd captured the hearts of Jean-Pierre's brothers. The press had plenty to say about each of the three women, but the press wasn't known for being honest. "We'll be there as long as your brother delivers us back here in one piece before dinnertime. I seem to remember he drives a boat like he's eluding the Coast Guard."
Dempsey threw his head back and laughed.
"Some things never change. But I've never seen him lose a passenger yet. I'll let Gervais and Erika know to expect two more." He paused. "Or might that be three?"
Her knees wobbled as a bout of light-headedness shook her. "He told you?"
If so, who else knew? She understood the news needed to be relayed to his family as soon as possible. And truly, she didn't feel any need to be at Jean-Pierre's side when he told them. It had been difficult enough confronting her parents and feeling the weight of their expectations on her shoulders. But even now, she didn't feel emotionally prepared for the fallout this baby would bring.
"He did. And I couldn't be happier for you both. I know the rest of the family will feel the same way." He said it with a steely conviction that suggested he was determined to make it so.
Perhaps he would make a good ally for her son, who'd also been born without the legal protection of her marriage to his father.
"I'm not sure I should come to the big dinner just yet after all because-"
"Whatever you think is best. But don't forget we're his family. We protect our own." Dempsey lifted a hand to give her shoulder a light squeeze before he set off at a brisk pace down the dock.
Leaving her alone and shaken. The Reynauds protected their own. She believed that. But she couldn't miss the way the words sounded like a proprietary claim. Like the Reynauds had a stake in her son and wouldn't forget it. The resources of this family were beyond imagining. She could never afford a power struggle with such a wealthy, well-connected clan.