Claiming The Prize (26 page)

His child, being conceived under his
hand, under his watchful eye.
He allowed images of his wife,
rounded with impending motherhood to fill his mind.
Her breasts
ripening, her body swelling with life, her happiness, his pride –
all flooded him with hope.

“
Let it be as I have
imagined,” he prayed.

The fire's illumination bathed Grace's
skin in golden light, beckoning his lips to brush its glowing
smoothness.
He sought her with newly awakened hunger, caressing her
hip and thigh with growing boldness as his lips trailed over her.
She stirred, stretching her legs forward, waking at his
exploration.
Turning her head, she smiled and brought her arm back
to cradle his head as he nuzzled her neck.

I hope you are rested, milovany.
For I
fear I must have you again,” he murmured seductively.

“
My husband is
insatiable,” she answered in sultry playfulness.

He descended on her zealously, kissing
down her back as he rolled her hip open and claimed her most
private flesh with gentle vigor.
She gasped as he devoured her, his
skilled mouth hot and insistent on her trembling flesh.

Grasping his head, encouraging him to
gift her with release, she whispered, “Yes, love.”

Hard as iron and throbbing with need,
Drago delayed no longer.
He slid up behind her, seeking her
entrance with his engorged shaft.
Hooking his arm under her knee
and drawing it up, he was granted access and pressed into her
slick, tight folds.

Grace cried out in relief as the
sensation of fullness flooded her pleasurably.
But quickly it
receded, replaced with the desire to feel him moving inside her.
Soft whimpers of need and delight twined between the lovers as he
filled her again and again.
His length touched her so deeply that
she gasped his name aloud, helpless under his sweet forays.
His
large form hovered over and behind her simultaneously, his firm
grasp under her knee holding her open in surrender to his loving
invasions.
Surrounded by his strength and filled with his
thickness, Grace shattered into pieces, falling freely into ecstasy
while safe in her lover's embrace.
A fervid cry escaped her lips as
pleasure rippled outward from her core.

“
Yes, milovnik,” he
groaned softly in her ear.

Grace trembled beneath his sensual
thrusts, her body building again toward sublime completion.
His
mouth wandered her neck and shoulder, blazing a path across her
sensitized skin.
Every nerve she possessed ached for his touch.
Arching against him at each new invasion, Grace felt her husband
tensing as his release neared.
Each thrust took her to the brink of
joy, his withdrawals prolonging the pleasure with sweet torture.
His next movement carried her over the edge, blinding pleasure
consuming her as Drago buried himself.

His heated essence pulsed
into her with violent force while her name tore from his mouth.
Gentling as their pleasure spent, he released her leg, wrapping her
body in his arms.
He slid from within her as his arousal subsided,
and tender exchanges of affection passed between them in the low
firelight.

Chapter 17

The return to First Strike was
bittersweet.
Their getaway had brought them closer, a new intimacy
borne from the peaceful seclusion at Magnolia Hills, and Grace
realized that it was Drago's presence that made First Strike, the
guest house, or their house in Bratislava feel like
home.

Dubravko and Ilija's visit passed far
too quickly, and seeing her friend evoked a longing for their
return to Slovakia even as the thought of leaving her father
saddened her.
Most disruptive to her piece of mind, however, was
the announcement that Guy and Drago would travel to Montreal at the
beginning of May for an intensive ten-week training camp with Jean
Luke, the infamous K-1 kick-boxer and jujitsu
specialist.

Drago had protested being gone from
home so long, even suggesting that they return on the weekends, but
Guy reasoned with him that the trip would be unnecessarily tiring
and would steal a day of training from each week.
It would also
give no day to rest his mind and body.
Knowing the wisdom in Guy's
words, Drago capitulated.
Focusing on the upcoming fight was
paramount.

Spring awakened the land subtly as
April passed its weeks, the earliest blooms and buds peeking from
ground and branch, energizing both nature and man in expectation of
warm, sunny days and the return of green foliage.
Grace bustled
about the gym, busying herself as Drago trained diligently, but as
the date neared for his removal to the Canadian city, an agitation
took root in her soul.
Separation loomed ahead.

Drago noted his wife's unsettled state
with concern.
She clung to him during their lovemaking, but was
distracted and moody, quiet and sullen at times, bursting into
tears at the slightest provocation.
He handled her gently, unable
to read her moods, and his confusion mounted alongside worry.
His
wife was usually smiling and easygoing, and he could discern
nothing to account for her odd behavior.

“
Moja
ž
ena,” he soothed, holding her in
his arms the night before his departure, “what troubles you so?
Are
you upset at my leaving?”

“
No...Yes...I don't know,”
she sighed.
“I wish you weren't going, Drago, but it's probably
good that you are.
I'm awful company lately.
Forgive me, love, I
don't know why I'm behaving this way.”

“
Gracie, if it will make
you happy, I'll arrange for you to travel with us.
I'll rent a flat
for us.
Forget the cost.”

“
I know you would.
But the
purpose for your going is to remove everything but your training.
I'd be alone most of the time and a distraction to you.
No, Drago,
you go.
I'll be fine.
And hopefully when I meet you in Pittsburgh,
I'll be feeling myself again.
Besides, I'm not feeling up to
traveling or staying in an unfamiliar place.”

Running his fingers
through her hair, he asked, “You're not feeling well?
Tell me if
you are ill,
ž
ena.
I'll not go.”

“
Nothing so bad as that.
I'm just tired.
Nothing more.”

Exhausted actually.
But she wouldn't
say that.
She felt as if she could sleep for days.
Her stomach
roiled at the thought of food.
She was unable to tolerate the
smells of the gym, and her emotions assaulted her without warning.
She desperately wanted to share with him her suspicions, but
resisted, not wanting to stir hope in either of them until she was
certain.
Reasoning that the information might cause worry and
distraction from his training, she tucked her secret away.
If her
body skipped another cycle, she would allow herself to
believe.

* * *

“
Grace, are you awake?”
Drago asked quietly.

“
Mm-hmm,” she mumbled
sleepily.

“
I brought your tea.
Drink
with me before I go.”

With effort, she roused and scooted up
to lean against the pillows.

“
What time is it?
I
thought you weren't leaving until nine o'clock?”

Her voice was still dreamy.

“
Milovany, it is just past
eight o'clock now,” he chuckled.
“You slept late.”

Grace took the heavy ceramic mug,
blinking the haze of sleep from her eyes.

“
Oh!
I wanted to make us a
nice breakfast before you left.”
The disappointment carried in her
voice.

Breakfast.
The mention of the word set
her stomach on edge.
Just sip the tea, she told herself.
It will
pass.
Easy Grace.

The first sip seemed to settle her, so
she indulged in another as her husband offered the details of the
drive.

“
I will telephone when we
arrive at the studio.
It should be in the evening.
Your father is a
very punctual man,” he teased.

When she neither laughed nor answered,
he looked at her closely.

“
Are you alright,
ž
ena?
You don't
look...”

But his wife was headed from the
room.

“
Gracie?”
he called,
following her.

The door slammed in his
face.

“
Go away, Drago...I mean,
I'll be out in a minute.”

The lock's click stung him.

“
Open the door,
moja
ž
ena!”

“
Prosim!
Please!
Leave me alone,”
she pleaded.

His wife's odd behavior had pushed him
too far.

“
Grace, you can open this
door or I will break it in two, but either way...”

The sounds of her retching silenced
him.
Instinct prompted him at first to worry for her health, but a
moment later a new thought began its inception in his
mind.

My God, maybe she's pregnant!
He
rejoiced in the thought.
Wondering if she suspected, Drago wisely
decided to remain silent about his tentative knowledge.
He would
allow her the joy of discovery and the pleasure of telling
him.

Returning to their bedroom, he fluffed
her pillows and straightened the blankets.
A few minutes later, she
reappeared quietly.

“
I'm sorry,” she started,
but Drago interrupted her.

“
Nie.
Come back to bed and
rest.
You have no need to apologize.”

She accepted his words gratefully and
curled next to him in the bed.

“
Can I get you anything?”
he offered.

“
Just stay with me until
you have to go,” came her only request.

“
Of course,
sipková.”

Savoring their final moments, he
curled around her, a mixture of pride and humbleness filling his
heart at the possibility he imagined.
He stole from the bed,
hearing Guy's vehicle approaching on the gravel, and without waking
her, placed a final kiss on her forehead.
The smile on his face
traveled with him across the border.

* * *

Grace's absence from First Strike was
noticed by all, and one by one, Yves, Ike, and St.
Clair came to
check on her.
Assuring them she was fine had not been as easy as
she had hoped, but by the middle of May, Grace no longer had any
doubt that she was with child, and it was her obvious happiness
more than her words that dispelled their concerns.
Dr.
Haviland
confirmed her suspicions on the fifteenth of May.

“
Congratulations, Grace,”
Dr.
Haviland announced.
“You are going to be a mother.”

Grace was overjoyed.

“
I'll see you in four
weeks.
Your nausea should be gone by then, honey, and so should the
fatigue.
Hang in there.
We'll have a look at the baby then, too.
I
guess your husband is proud as a peacock about now!”

“
Oh, Dr.
Haviland, the
truth is, he doesn't know yet,” she confessed.
“I wasn't certain
before he left, and I didn't want to get his hopes up in case it
was a false alarm.
Please, can we keep this hushed until I see him?
I don't want to tell him over the phone.”

The older man's eyes twinkled in
conspirator's glee.

“
Say no more, Grace.
Consider it our little secret.”

He patted her arm.

“
Here is a prescription
for vitamins.
You can continue all normal activities, but no
intense workouts.
Your body temperature shouldn't get too high, so
no hot tubs or scalding baths either, all right?”

“
I understand,” she
said.

It was not going to be an easy secret
to hold.

“
I'll see you then.
And
thank you,” she smiled.

* * *

Jean Luke proved to be as
eccentric as Guy had warned, but his variations on positioning and
technique were valuable assets to Drago's arsenal.
Jean Luke was
quite different than any other trainer Drago had encountered in his
career.
No schedule governed the man; he worked at all hours of the
day or night, but Drago found success under his tutelage.
The
patterns of his structured life had no place in Jean Luke's small
studio gym.
The man believed that to be prepared for a fight, one
had to expect the unexpected.

And train for
it.

Roused from sleep on more than a few
occasions, Jean Luke produced a sparring partner, and work
commenced whether it be midnight or three in the morning.
They
regularly traveled to outdoor venues to train, using nature's
settings and props instead of man made ones.

Despite the irregularity of the
situation, Drago took an immense liking to Jean Luke, and in the
foreign environment he discovered a side to Guy Antolini not
previously revealed.
Away from the responsibilities of running
First Strike, Guy was less commanding.
He studied alongside Drago,
gleaning the nuances of form that made Jean Luke successfully
unpredictable, and the men grew closer during the shared
experience.

By June's end, Drago was stronger,
faster, and more mentally prepared than he had ever been before a
fight.
Victory was never assured in the ring, and Drago knew that
one mistake, one miss-step, could cost a fighter dearly.
But he
also knew he was sculpting the best Drago Zadrovec he could for his
match against Elian Souva.

Each Sunday and Wednesday he
telephoned Grace.
The absence of her moodiness returned the easy
companionship between husband and wife as they shared the day to
day happenings of their lives.

“
I'm missing you
terribly,” Grace sighed.

“
Only a couple more
weeks,
ž
ena,” he
comforted.
“You have your tickets already?”

“
Mm-hmm,” she purred.
“I'm
counting the days – fourteen to be exact – until I meet you in
Pittsburgh.
The Friar and I should land just after noon, so I
should be at the hotel by one o'clock.”