Knock Out (The Billionaire's Club: New Orleans) (8 page)

She laughed, unsure of his meaning. “I’m not on a deadline, though I have to admit it feels like the clock is ticking, especially since I don’t have prospects lining up to donate to the cause.”

“Yes, you do.” He turned to face her fully, his gaze boring into hers. “Me.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You? You want to father my kids?”

He straightened his shoulders. “You sound surprised by my offer.”

“I am.”

“Is it really so impossible that I’d want to be the father of your children?”

“Well, yeah,” she answered, flustered.

His jaw clenched. “Why?”

Renata stared at him, flummoxed. How could he not see what a bad idea this was? It was so perfectly ludicrous she wanted to laugh. She didn’t. She was too surprised. Surprised, and a little stung. Sebastian offered to father her child. Yet at no time had he said he loved her or wanted to marry her. At no time had he asked her what she wanted.

Memories swamped her, memories of their last day together five years ago. Bas, his face a granite mask, telling her he chose boxing over her, that he needed to focus on his career and couldn’t afford to be distracted. That’s all she’d been to him then, a fling that had distracted him from his boxing career, the most important thing in his life. She’d loved him with everything in her and she’d only been a damned distraction. What if that was all she was to him now?

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t accept his offer. If she did, he’d be in her life forever. There was no way he’d agree to father her children and then walk away. No, Sebastian would want to be a part of her children’s lives, her life, demanding that things go his way, and if she didn’t agree, he had the power and the money to take her kids from her. It would be different if he’d offered marriage and love. But he hadn’t. He’d only offered sex and the results that came from it.

She wanted more. She needed more. She needed Bas to love her as much as she’d loved him then, as much as she loved him now. If he didn’t want her for everything, she couldn’t give him anything.

“Why Rennie?” he prodded when she remained silent too long.

“Several reasons. It’s us we’re talking about here. It’s one thing to train and have sex. It’s a whole other thing to have you impregnate me.”

“You still haven’t given me any reasons why not, Rennie,” he said with infinite patience as if she were a stubborn child. “Given the amazing sex and the amount of practice we have, I think I could manage the impregnating part with no problem.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Why are you willing to be my sperm donor?”

“I’m not.”

The slash of pain was so sudden and sharp she couldn’t breathe for a moment. “Of course not. So there’s really no point in continuing this conversation, is there?”

“You’re misunderstanding me.” He pulled her closer. “I don’t want to be your sperm donor. I want to be the father of your children. I’m going to give you children, Renata. But I’m giving them to you as your husband.”

“Husband?” She needed to sit down. She needed a drink. She needed to escape whatever weird alternate universe she’d slipped into. “You want to be my husband?”

“All this disbelief is hell on a man’s ego. If I’m going to be a father, especially of your children, then I’m damn well going to be a husband too. Why is that a shock to you?”

“Because we haven’t gone a day without yelling at each other.” She shook her head. “Hell—I used you as a punching bag my first week here!”

“A punch I deserved,” he reminded her, a slight smile on his lips. “You’re not planning on punching me again, are you?”

“Of course not!” She backed away from him, fear spilling like ice into her veins. Fear that she loved Bas too much. That he only wanted her because he’d made a mistake in letting her go in the first place, and he hated making mistakes.

It was so tempting, so very tempting to take his offer. She loved him enough. But while she knew he wanted her now, it wasn’t enough. She didn’t want to be owned. She didn’t want to be a possession like his titles, his cars, his company. She wanted to be cherished, wanted their children to be a product of love, not a business transaction. If that’s all it meant to him she’d rather be alone, as painful a prospect as that was.

“Bas,” she choked out. “We can’t do this.”

“Yes, we can.” Determination hardened his features. “We are.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, the only way she could force the words out. She shook her head, straightening her spine. “I can’t. You want to father my child because you don’t want me to turn to anyone else. You offer marriage because you don’t want me to be with anyone else.”

“Damn right,” he snarled at her. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine!”

“Yours.” Pain chopped through her. “A possession like your championships, your cars, your money? A wife and kids are not possessions, Bas. A child needs to feel like he’s cherished, not owned.”
So does a wife
.

“I know that!” he roared.

“Do you? Do I? We’re so different from when we were together. We don’t know each other anymore. We have no idea if we could have a real relationship.”

“We’re living together. We’re having the best sex of our lives. We’re working together toward the common goal of getting you that championship title.” He folded his arms across his chest, irritation marring the perfection of his features. “Sounds like stuff married couples do all the time.”

“And what’s supposed to happen after the championship?” she demanded, her voice cracking as her fears spilled out. “A husband is not the same thing as a trainer. And managing dozens of companies and billions of dollars is not the same as being a father. You can’t just yell and throw money and issue orders and expect everything to go your way. Intimidation is no way to be a family.”

“Intimidation?” He abruptly stilled, body tense as if awaiting a blow. “You’re afraid, aren’t you? Afraid of me, of what I might do.”

She wanted to deny it, but couldn’t make the lie come. “Yes.”

He took a step back from her with a pained groan, a stricken look on his face that hurt her heart to see. “Christ, Rennie, just say that you don’t think I’d be good husband and father material and leave it at that. No need to twist my balls off while you’re at it.”

He turned on his heel and stalked away.

What the hell just happened?

Pain gripped Renata’s heart, obliterating the need to call Sebastian back, to apologize. He’d looked at her as if she’d sucker-punched him. As if she’d broken his heart instead of the other way around.

She stared up at the night sky, struggling to breathe past the sobs that threatened to choke her. How could he not understand that there were things she wanted too—things she needed to hear from him? She’d promised herself that she’d be on her own rather than be with a man who didn’t love her, a man who only wanted what he could take from her. Even though the love she felt for Sebastian was all-consuming, even though he offered everything any sane woman could ask for or hope to have, being with him wouldn’t work if it was one-sided. Without love, it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Even now she felt her resolve weakening. Even now she wanted to apologize to him, to give in and say yes to a man who only spoke about what he wanted, not what they wanted or needed, or could have together if they both loved each other. So what if he didn’t love her? Maybe he wasn’t capable of love—it wasn’t like he’d had a good example of it growing up. Maybe all he could offer was the physical passion. She’d be a fool to refuse him—she’d have the children she wanted, the security of marriage … and she’d slowly die inside, waiting for Sebastian to inevitably choose something or someone else over her like he’d done before.

“Renata.”

She turned to find Duparte standing in the doorway. Disappointment weighted down his features and Renata knew somehow that she was the one who’d disappointed him. The pain spread through her chest, leaving her gasping for breath and fighting tears.

“Mr. Duparte,” she managed, trying to find enough air to speak, to apologize, to ask about Sebastian. Her lungs refused to work, but she tried. “Armand …”

Concern chased away disappointment as he took a step forward, reaching for her. “Renata, are you all right?”

She shook her head violently, arms wrapped around herself in a futile effort to keep from falling apart. Sebastian had finally broken her, and it took all her energy to keep herself together. She could fall apart later when she was alone. Except she’d have to go back to Sebastian’s house, get her things … “Oh, God.”

Duparte guided her to a bench and eased her down. “Breathe,” he ordered, rubbing a hand on her spine. “Breathe in, now out. That’s it.”

She did as he asked, and the burn slowly eased from her lungs. Minutes passed as she sat there, holding back tears as Duparte comforted her. It so reminded her of five years ago, when her father had comforted her after Bas broke up with her, and tears spilled again.

“Why can’t he love me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Inwardly she cringed at the pathetic sound, but she needed to know and Duparte was the closest Bas had to a father figure. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t open myself up to him again but I did and I’ve let him hurt me. Again. But it hurts so much worse this time. I know his childhood wasn’t the best, but I’d hoped … is it something about me or something in his past that makes him unable to love?”

Duparte looked at her in surprise. “You think he doesn’t love you?”

“It’s the truth. He hasn’t said the words. He’s never said the words.”

“Have you?”

“Back then, yes. He broke things off the very next day.” Her hands fisted on her knees. “Now I think he wants me just to want me, and I can’t do that. I just can’t. Not until I know that I’m more than just a possession to him.”

Duparte’s soft laughter startled her. “That boy always has to do things his way, the hardest way possible.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only three things that boy’s ever been afraid of,” Duparte said. “One, not being able to protect his mother. Two, that he’s just like his father. And three, that he’ll never be good enough for you.”

“How could he think he’s not good enough for me when he’s all I’ve ever wanted? He knew that, but he dumped me anyway.”

“Your father asked him to.”

Just when Renata didn’t think she could absorb one more jolt, Duparte hit her with another. “My father.” The words felt like shards of glass. “My father asked Sebastian to break up with me?”

Duparte nodded. “You were on your way up. Everyone knew that. Just as everyone knew how protective your father was of you. So when Sebastian asked your father’s permission to marry you—”

The ground rocked beneath her. “Bas wanted to marry me?”

“From the first day he saw you in the ring. Sebastian turned to me and said, ‘That’s the girl I’m going to marry.’ He meant it too.” Duparte sighed. “Your father said no. Said it wouldn’t be fair for you to give up your dream and become a wife and mother while Sebastian continued pursuing his career. That if Sebastian really loved you, he’d put your needs above his and let you have your chance while you could still take it.”

Renata slid a trembling hand across her eyes. It sounded like something her father would have done. Boxing had been their collective dream, something they’d bonded over since she’d learned to walk. He’d pushed her but she’d wanted to be pushed. She’d wanted to make him proud. But she’d wanted Sebastian too.

“I would have,” she whispered. “If we couldn’t both box, I would have given up everything to be with Bas. I thought we’d find a way to make it work for both of us. But he said boxing was too important, it was his chance to get everything he ever wanted and he couldn’t blow it.”

Her voice cracked over the years-old pain. “We could have trained together, worked the circuit together, put off starting a family until later but he said he couldn’t be with me. And then he walked away.”

Duparte covered her hand with his. “Do you see now why he couldn’t be with you, why he had to walk away?”

“I see why he felt he had to,” she admitted. “But I see I had good reason to be mad at Bas and my father. We’ve lost five years. I could have stopped the first time I won my belt.”

“So you do want to have a family with Sebastian?”

“I’ve always wanted a family with Sebastian. I just wanted him to love me as much as I love him. I wanted him to put us first.”

Duparte sighed. “Do you know why Sebastian got into boxing?”

“He was a backyard bare-knuckle fighter,” Renata answered, not sure where Duparte was going with the conversation. “He did it to earn money to keep his mom safe and away from his father. Then his mom got him a membership to your gym and you made him a professional.”

“He’s the spitting image of his father, and he hates that. Hated that his mother was reminded of his father every time she saw Sebastian. So he’d get his face bashed in and he’d fight to get his demons out. He needed it and felt like he deserved it. It was punishment and therapy.”

“Oh, God,” she choked out. “Sebastian.”

“That boy needs you, Renata.” Duparte sat back, his expression grim. “He needs someone who can love him without conditions, someone who believes there’s good inside him.”

“Of course he’s a good man! He’s been nothing but good to me.”

“He said you think he’d be just like his father.”

Her heart thumped painfully in her chest. “Like his … oh, God.” Bile rose in her throat. Sebastian’s father had been a mean drunk who’d abused him and his mother. He was nothing like that horrible man. How could he think…?

Are you afraid of me? Of what I might do?

Yes
.

She leapt to her feet, racing through the house to the front door, snatching it open. The Shelby was gone, and so were the two imports. She whirled back to Duparte as he caught up to her, her pulse racing wildly. “Where is he? I need to see him—I can’t let him go one more second believing that. He’s nothing like his father!”

Duparte pulled his keys from his pocket, then guided her out to the garage to a sleek Aston Martin. “He went to Hard Knocks, and the boys are with him.”

“Take me to him,” she pleaded. “God, he must be so hurt right now.”

Duparte disengaged the alarm, then handed her into the car. “Let him work this out of his system,” he advised. “He asked me to take you home. When he’s ready, that’s where he’ll go.”

Indecision tore at Renata. She and Bas had always pounded their frustration out on punching bags, channeling their emotions into honing their bodies. She’d done that in spades in the days and weeks after their breakup. Clarity eventually came. If he had to work through his hurt and anger so they could talk, truly talk, she’d do the same. After all, she was training for the fight of her life.

“All right. Take me home.”

***

“She’s afraid of me.”

Sebastian stood in front of the heavy bag at Hard Knocks, but couldn’t make himself throw a punch. Just the thought made his gut churn.

Renata was afraid of him.

“Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand her?” Raphael asked.

“I asked her point-blank if she was afraid of me. She said yes.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face, feeling sick. It had never crossed his mind that he could intimidate Renata. She was the one person he’d believed would never be terrified of him, but she was. She feared him and he didn’t know what he could do or say to change that. Helplessness tore at him, the same paralyzing fear he’d experienced before his body caught up with his desire to defend his mother.

“Man, you need to think clearly,” Raphael said. “She’s been with you before. She’s lived alone with you in that monster house for how long now? She wouldn’t do that if she was afraid of you.”

“Maybe she thinks she didn’t have a choice. Maybe she felt trapped.”

Gabriel snorted. “Renata’s not the meek and submissive type.”

“No, she’s not. That’s what’s making this even more fucked up.” The idea that Renata didn’t feel safe with him burned through him like acid.

Raphael sat on one of the weight benches. “So why do you think she’s afraid you’ll hurt her?”

He didn’t know. That was the problem. If he knew why she was afraid, he could take steps to fix it. “What else could it be?”

“You love her?” Gabriel asked.

His shoulders bunched defensively. What the fuck did he know about love? “She’s everything!”

“She know that?”

“Of course she does! I …” Sebastian stared at his friends. Renata knew how he felt about her, didn’t she? She had to know. How could she not know?

Duparte stepped into the gym. “Son, you’ve stepped in it good this time.”

Sebastian spun to his mentor. “Renata. Is she …?”

“She’s at the house waiting for you, alternating between anger and heartache.” Duparte shook his head. “Both of you, so hardheaded and stubborn. You need to talk this out. I want god-babies.”

Sebastian closed his eyes. Would talking be enough? “I don’t know what to say to her.”

“Tell her you love her,” Duparte advised. “Women need the words. And sometimes we do too.”

Sebastian stripped off his practice gloves, determination mixing with longing and an ego-bruising dose of uncertainty. “I’ve got to go to her.” He headed for the door and the fight of his life.

“Good luck, man,” Raphael called while Gabriel nodded encouragement.

Sebastian stepped into the night, knowing he’d need all the luck he could get. Because he wasn’t sure he was capable of giving Renata the words she needed.