Six Of The Best Of Desire 2016. Maisey Yates

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Six Of The Best Of Desire 2016 - Maisey Yates


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spun her away from him. There was a moment before she returned to the heat of his body that left her with anticipation. She wanted him to keep touching her, to keep pressing his body against hers.

      After they resumed their rhythmic swaying, he said softly into her ear, “You are pretty well-adjusted for someone who grew up in a medieval castle surrounded by servants and nannies.”

      “What makes you think we had servants and nannies?”

      A smile played with his sexy mouth. “That princess title.”

      She rolled her eyes. “The castle was pretty crumbly and we had some maintenance help, since we opened part of the palace to the public, and tutors volunteered just to have it on their résumé that they’d taught royalty. But definitely no nannies.”

      “Your parents were the involved types.” Somehow they had gotten closer, lips barely a breadth away from each other. The thought of how close he was made it hard for Erika to concentrate. So she pulled back a bit, adjusting her head to look out over the crowd, toward the band.

      “Not really. After class we had freedom to roam. We were quite a wild pack of kids. Can you imagine having your own real-life castle as a playground? We had everything but the unicorn.”

      “You make it sound fun.”

      “Some days it was fun. Some it was lonely when I saw the kids on tour with their parents.” She hesitated. The last thing she wanted from Gervais was sympathy. She’d accepted what her family was and was not a long time ago. So she continued, “And some days were downright dangerous.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “My sisters and I wanted a trampoline for Christmas.” Which sounded perfectly normal. Except for the Mitras clan, there was no such thing as normal.

      “Okay. And?”

      “You do not get those on royal grounds. It does not fit the historical image, and without the tours we didn’t have money. So, we made our own.”

      “Oh, God.” A look of horror and intrigue passed over his face.

      “We pulled a couple of mattresses down the stairs, stacked them under a window... And we jumped.”

      Gervais’s eyes widened. “From how high?”

      She shrugged. “Third story. And the ceilings were high.”

      “You’re making me ill.”

      “It was only scary the first time when one of my sisters pushed me.” And, later, when another sister broke an arm and the game ended for good.

      “Pushed you?” Disbelief filled his voice. Surely his brothers had done equally dangerous things as forms of entertainment when they had been younger.

      She’d seen the Reynaud males up close, and there was an air of confidence and arrogance about all of them that didn’t exactly coincide with a sheltered upbringing.

      “I was the test dummy,” she informed him. “As the youngest and the lightest, it was my job to make sure the mattress had been placed correctly and had enough bounce.”

      “And did it?”

      “We had to add some duvets and pillows.”

      “So it hurt.”

      “Probably no more than playing football without shoulder pads.”

      Tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, he whispered, “You’re such a badass. I expected a story like that from a family of boys, but not girls.”

      Not all girls were the descendants of female warriors. And that was usually the justification for their shenanigans as children. “We considered it our gym class. It was more interesting than lacrosse.”

      “Lacrosse, huh? I didn’t expect that.” He brushed his lips across her temple, his breath warm, his brief kiss warmer.

      Her body even warmer still with want.

      Just when she thought she would grip his lapels and melt right into him, he stepped back.

      “I should get you home, Princess. It’s late.”

      And just like that, the fairy-tale book was closing. She felt close to him all evening, physical distance aside. And every time it seemed as if there was something more between them, he pulled back.

      While part of her was relieved that he’d stopped pushing for more, a larger part of her wanted him. She had to weigh her options. Had to be strong for her unborn children and make the wisest decision possible. It wasn’t just her life in the balance.

      * * *

      After a sleepless night dreaming of Gervais’s touch, Erika hadn’t awoken in the best of moods. And now she had to make the phone call she had been dreading. The one that had sent her on edge all morning long until she found her courage and started dialing.

      Erika sat on the chaise longue in the guest room as she hugged the device to her ear and listened to the call ring through on the other side of the world. She needed to speak with her parents and tell them that she was pregnant. With twins. There was no sense in avoiding the inevitable any longer.

      Her mother answered the phone. “Hello, my love. What brings about this lovely surprise of a call?”

      “Um, does there have to be a special reason for me to call you?”

      “There does not have to be, but I hear a tone in your voice that tells me there is a reason. Something important perhaps?”

      Her mother’s surprise intuition tugged at her already tumultuous emotions.

      “I am pregnant. With twins.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she had even had a chance to respond to the pleasantries with her mom.

      So much for the long speech Erika had outlined and perfected. Glancing down at the piece of paper in front of her, she noted that her talking points were basically for show. There was no going back now.

      Silence fell from the other end of the receiver for what seemed like an eternity.

      “Mother?” she asked, uncertainty creeping into her voice.

      “Twins, Erika? Are you certain?”

      She nodded, as if her mother could see. “Yes, Mother. I’m certain. I went to the doctor two days ago and heard the two distinct heartbeats with my own ears. The tradition of twins lives on in the Mitras family.”

      “Who is the father?” Her mother’s interest pressed into the phone.

      “Gervais Reynaud, the American football team owner—” she began, but her mother interrupted.

      “A son of the Reynaud shipping empire? And Zephyr Cruise Ships? What an excellent match, Erika. American royalty. The press will love this.”

      “Right, but, Mother, I wanted to—”

      “Oh, darling, have you considered what this could mean for the family? If you have boys, well...the royal line lives on. This is wonderful, my love. Hold on, let me get your father.”

      Rustling papers and some yelling came through over the phone. Erika’s stomach knotted.

      “Your father is on speakerphone. Tell him your news, my love.” Her mother cooed into the phone, focused on all the wrong things.

      “I’m going to have twins, Father. And I’m just—”

      “Twins? Do you know what this means? You could have a boy. Maybe two.”

      Erika nodded dully into the phone, the voices of her parents feeling distant. As if they belonged in someone else’s life. The way they had when she was a child. The image of the royal family always seemed more important than the actual well-being of the family itself.

      They weren’t interested in hearing what she had to say but


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