He wished he could will away his reaction just as quickly.
“I understand you’re angry.” Maybe that was the source of all this tension pinging back and forth. Passions were running high today between the team’s loss, the start of the regular season and her trying to quit. “But let’s hammer out a plan to get through it. You want to build your own business, fine. Just wait until after the season is over and I’ll at least help you finance it. I can offer much better terms than the bank.”
The moon hung low over the lake as the SUV wound around the side streets leading to the family’s waterfront acreage. The lake was shallow here, requiring boat owners to install long docks to moor their watercraft. Dempsey couldn’t recall the last time he’d taken a boat out, since all his time was devoted to football and business.
“That’s very generous of you. But I can’t stay a whole season.” Briefly, she squeezed her temples between her thumb and forefingers. “I posted a design of my first shirt and won crowd funding for the production. I need to honor that commitment after my followers made it happen for me.”
And he had missed that milestone, even if it was just enough capital for a small run of shirts and not the launch of an entire business. He admired that—how she’d started off things so conservatively that her potential buyers had bought the clothes before she’d even made them. She was smart. Savvy. All the more reason he needed her. He could help her with her business after she helped him solidify his.
“Congratulations, Addy. I didn’t know about that. So give me four weeks.” He did not want to compromise on this. But four weeks bought him more time to convince her to stay longer. To show her that she had a place with the team. “The deal still stands. I’ll help you with the startup costs. You retain full control. But you will stay with me for another month to get the season underway.”
“What about the engagement? What happens to that ridiculous fiction next month?”
“You can break it off for whatever reason you choose.” He trusted her to be fair. He might not have been paying much attention to her for the past few years in his intense drive to lead his team, but he knew that much about her.
When the time came to “break up,” she wouldn’t drag him through a scandal the way Valentina had threatened. Especially since he and Adelaide would still be working together, because no way in hell was he losing her. Four weeks was a long time to win her over now that he understood how high the stakes were. A season like this might only come around once in a lifetime. If he didn’t make the most of it and secure the championship now, he might never get another shot.
“And until then? What will your family think of this sudden news? Will you at least tell them the truth so we don’t have to pretend around them?” She bit her lip as they drove through the gates leading to the Reynaud family acreage along the lake.
She’d never seemed at ease here, not from the first time she’d set foot on the property for his high school graduation party and spent most of the time searching for shells on the shore.
The SUV rolled past the mammoth old Greek Revival house where Dempsey had spent his teen years, now occupied by his older brother, Gervais. Henri and Jean-Pierre split an eleven-thousand-square-foot Italianate the family acquired when they’d bought out a former neighbor. Neither of them stayed with the family for long, since Henri and his wife had a house in the Garden District and Jean-Pierre spent the football season in New York with his team.
Dempsey’s place was slightly smaller. He’d specially commissioned the design to repeat the Greek Revival style of the main house, with four white columns in the front, and a double gallery overlooking the lake in back.
Evan parked the vehicle in front, but Dempsey didn’t open the door. “My family doesn’t need to know the truth about our relationship.” He reached for her hand to reassure her, guessing she would be bothered by the lie. “It will be simpler if we keep the details private.”
Her hand closed around his for a moment, as though it was a reflex. As though they were still friends. But damned if he didn’t feel that spark of awareness again. Whatever had happened between them back at the stadium was not going away.
“Your family won’t believe it.” She shook her head. “We’ve kept things strictly platonic for too long to feel...that way.”
She withdrew her hand from his. Either he was really losing his touch with women, or they’d both been feeling “that way” today. Was it the first time it had happened for her, or had she thought about him romantically in the past?
It bothered him how much he wanted to know.
“It’s none of their business.” He didn’t care what anyone thought. His brothers were too caught up in their own lives to pay much attention to Dempsey outside of his work with the Hurricanes. He’d been the black-sheep brother ever since their father had shown up with him in tow as a scrawny thirteen-year-old. “The engagement is important, since Valentina threatened to cause trouble for the Brighter NOLA fund-raiser by going to the media with some story about my nondisclosure agreements. The announcement of my marriage to you trumps her ploy ten times over. No one will care about her story, let alone believe it.”
“Ah. How convenient.” Adelaide wrenched her purse onto her lap and started digging through it. Finding a tube of lip balm, she uncapped it, twisted the clear shiny wand upward and slicked it over her mouth until her lips glistened.
His own mouth watered. Then he recalled her words.
“It is useful.” He watched her smooth her dark hair behind her ears, the primping a sure sign of nerves. “The engagement helps me to keep you close and prevents Valentina from sabotaging something you and I worked hard to develop. That foundation is too important for her to derail our efforts.”
“Well, I don’t find it useful. Or convenient.” Adelaide’s eyes flashed a brighter jade than normal, her cheeks pink with a hint of temper. “I am not an actress. I can’t make an engagement believable to your family when they’ve hardly noticed me in all the time we’ve known each other.”
“We can address that.”
“If you think I’m going to start tossing my hair—” she exaggerated some kind of feminine hair fluffing “—or slinking around your house in skintight gowns to convince anyone that I’m the kind of female who could capture your attention...”
“You think that’s what I notice in a woman?” He couldn’t say if he felt more amused at her attempt to toss her hair, or dismayed that she perceived him as shallow.
Her shrug spoke volumes.
“Your challenge could not be clearer if you’d thrown a red flag on the field.” Something stirred inside him—something deeper than the earlier flashes of attraction.
A bone-deep need to prove her wrong. He was not a shallow man. He’d simply dated women who could go into a romantic relationship with eyes wide-open. He refused to give any woman false expectations.
“I’m not challenging you.” She bit her lip again, her shiny gloss fading as her anxiety spiked. “Simply pointing out what has historically intrigued you about the fair sex. I won’t be the only one who finds our decision to marry a total farce.”
She reached for her door handle as if to end the conversation on that note.
He reached for her, bracketing her with his arms. Stopping her from exiting the vehicle.
“No one is going to doubt that you have my attention.” The space around them seemed to shrink. He noticed she remained very, very still. “That much is going to be highly believable.”
She swallowed hard.
“Do you believe me, Adelaide?” He wanted to hear her say it. Maybe because it had been a long time since someone had questioned his word. “Or shall I prove it?”
Her eyes searched his. Her lips parted. In disbelief? Or was she already