from where she lived. He wanted to help her feel more comfortable, to love his home city as much as he did so they wouldn’t be forced into some globe-hopping parenting situation. He wished they could have had a private breakfast to talk, but he’d been called away to the game. Thank goodness Adelaide had offered to check on her personally. Dempsey’s assistant and longtime friend remained the one good thing that had come from Dempsey’s early years spent living a hardscrabble life before their father had found him.
Adelaide had texted Gervais this morning, assuring him that Erika had everything she needed.
Now he watched Erika eyeing the food the servers carried. Caviar nachos and truffles pizza. Delicious delicacies, but she declined the offerings whenever the waitstaff stopped in front of her. Though she certainly looked hungry.
“Is the food not to your liking?” He stepped toward her, smoothing his tie and wondering if he should look into the foods native to her homeland. “We ordered a special menu for the event today, but we can have anything brought in.”
Nearby, a group of women cheered as Henri connected with one of the rookie receivers running a slant route down on the field. No doubt, it would be one of Henri’s last big plays of the game, since they needed to test the depth of the quarterback position with some of the backup talent.
Erika stood, moving closer to him, the scent of magnolia pulling his focus away from the game and slipping under his guard, making him recall their weekend together. Making him remember the view of her long legs bared just last night in a jersey that had covered her only to midthigh. He’d barely slept after that mouthwatering visual.
“Gervais, this is all incredible and definitely far more elaborate than I would have expected at a football game. Thank you.”
Her response had been polite, but he could see something tugging at her. So he pressed, gently, “But...”
She took a few steps toward the glass, gesturing to the seats below, where fans were starting to crowd the aisles as halftime neared. “Honestly? My mouth is watering for one of those smothered hot dogs I see the vendors selling. With mustard and onions.”
“You want a chili dog?” He couldn’t hide a grin.
Right from the start she’d charmed him with the unexpected. She was a princess in the military. A sexy rebel. And despite all the imported fare weighing down the servers’ trays, she wanted a chili dog.
“If it is not too much trouble, of course.” She frowned. “I did not think to bring my wallet.”
“It’s no trouble.” He wouldn’t mind stepping out of the temperature-controlled suite into the excited crowd. How long had it been since he’d ventured out from behind the tinted-glass windows during a game? It had been too long.
He leaned to whisper in her ear, hand bracing her on the small of her back. “Pregnancy craving?”
She blinked quickly, her breath quickening under his touch. “I believe so. Mornings are difficult with nausea, but then I am starving for the rest of the day. Today has been difficult, with all the travel yesterday and jet lag.”
“Then I will personally secure an order for you.” He smiled. “I have to say I wouldn’t mind having one for myself.” He touched her shoulder lightly, aching to keep his hands on her. “I’ll be right back.”
* * *
Erika moved closer to the glass and took a seat, looking down into the field, her eyes alert.
There was no fanfare in yoga or running, so Erika looked on at the halftime show with a sense of wonder. LSU’s band performed in tandem with a pop star local to the area, sending the fans into wild cheers as a laser light show sliced the air around her. The scents of fog and smoke wafted through the luxury suite’s vents, teasing her oversensitive nose.
This box was quite different from the Wembley luxury suite where she’d met Gervais. The Reynaud private domain was decorated with family memorabilia, team awards and lots of video monitors for comfortable viewing in the back of the box right near the bar.
But she enjoyed her front-row seat, watching intently.
So this really did have a form of old-world pageantry mixed with a dash of medieval jousting. Her military training made her able to pick out various formations on the field below, the two teams forming and re-forming their lines to try to outwit one another. Viewing the game this way had been a revelation—and definitely not as boring as she’d once thought. And she couldn’t wait to taste one of the chili dogs once Gervais returned.
Fiona Harper-Reynaud, the quarterback’s wife and Gervais’s sister-in-law, if Erika remembered correctly, tilted her head to the side. “Princess Erika, you look pensive.”
“I have been thinking about the game, trying to understand more about what I’ve seen so far, since I am actually quite a neophyte about the rules. My sisters and I were not exposed much to team sports.”
A few of the other women laughed softly into their cocktail napkins, eyeing Erika.
Fiona smiled, crossing her elegant legs at the ankles. “What an interesting choice, then, to spend time with Gervais when you’re not a football enthusiast.”
“I am learning to look at the game in a new light.” She would read more about it now that she knew her child would be a part of this world.
She couldn’t allow her son or daughter to be unprepared for their future, and that meant football. She could not sit in this box overflowing with Reynauds and fail to realize how deeply entrenched they were in this sport.
“How so?” Fiona traced a finger on her wineglass, her diamond wedding ring glinting in the light from a chrome pendant lamp.
Erika pointed down to the field, where the head coach and his team were now returning to the sidelines. “Adelaide Thibodeaux suggested I think of this as a ritual as old as time, like an ancient battle or a medieval jousting field. The imagery is working for me.”
“Hmm.” Fiona lifted one finely arched eyebrow. “That’s quite a sexy image. And fitting. Armor versus shoulder pads. It works. I’ll have to spin that for a future fund-raiser.”
“That sounds intriguing.” And it did. If it helped Erika to appreciate the game more, it could certainly appeal to someone else.
“Perhaps I should rethink the menu, too, as I may have overdone things with this event.” She picked up a nacho and investigated it.
“The food is amazing. Quite a lovely, fun spread,” Erika offered, smiling at her.
“But you want a chili dog—or so I overheard you say.”
“I hope you did not take offense, as I certainly did not mean any.” Erika fought the urge to panic. She bit down her nerves—and a wave of nausea. This was easily explainable. “I am in America. I simply want to experience American foods served at a regular football game.”
A server walked by with another fragrant tray of caviar nachos—too fragrant. She pressed her hand to her stomach as another wave of indigestion struck, cramping her stomach.
Fiona’s eyebrows rose but she stayed silent for a moment. “If you need anything, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Did Fiona know somehow, even though she didn’t have children? There seemed to be an understanding—and a sadness in her eyes.
For a brief, fleeting moment, she wondered if Fiona had ever found herself in Erika’s situation. Not the pregnant-with-a-handsome-stranger situation, but the other one. The one where she was an outsider who shouldered too much responsibility sometimes.
The weight of that thought bore down on her, making her stomach even more queasy. She fought back the urge, praying she could get to her feet and to the ladies’ room before she embarrassed herself.
Erika bit her lip, shooting to her feet, only to find the ground swaying underneath her. Not a good sign at all, but if