Claiming The Prize (27 page)

“
I will be glad to see
you, Grace, but I must insist on a few conditions.”

“
Conditions?”
she laughed
easily.
“And what conditions would you impose, Mr.
Zadrovec?”

His low chuckle sounded in her ear,
sending tremors of anticipation down her spine.

“
That night,” he husked,
“there will be no dinners to attend.
No meetings, no welcomes to
contend with, milovnik, but our own.
Promise me.”

“
Such an easy man to
please.
Yes.
I promise.”

Her playful manner continued.
The days
could not pass quickly enough, so great was her wish to spill the
secret she held.
It was becoming difficult to hide the growing bump
of her abdomen, but she refused to share her wonderful news with
anyone besides Dr.
Haviland until Drago knew.
Caring for Kady was
the perfect excuse for reluctance to spar with Yves, and Grace was
assured that no one's suspicions were aroused.
Carson remained
reserved after his encounter with Drago, and the two rarely spoke
about anything – save Kadence.

The little girl had taken her first
steps earlier that day on the padded floor of First Strike, St.
Clair capturing the momentous event on camera before he took Grace
out to dinner.
She rattled off the details happily, wanting Drago
to be included in her day to day activities.
Profitable as this
experience was, she knew he longed to be at home.

“
Gracie, are you sure it
is wise to allow Kadence to become so attached to you?
It may make
it difficult for her when we return to Bratislava.”
The line fell
quiet, and Drago added, “I don't mean to upset you,
ž
ena...”

“
No, Drago,” she cut in
softly, “I'm just realizing you may be right.
I've enjoyed having
her around so much that I didn't consider how my leaving may affect
her.
I've been a bit selfish...”

Her voice trailed off.

“
There is another way to
look at it, too,” he said.
Drago would never believe his wife was
selfish and he didn't want her to believe it about herself.
“You
have been placed in the little girl's life for a reason, even it is
only for a time.
Your love and care are helping to shape her,
moja
ž
ena.”

He sighed, regretting his earlier
question.

“
It is never wrong to love
a child, sipková.
I am a fool.”

“
No love, you are no fool.
You were loving Kady in your own way by bringing it up.
I think
there's truth in both of your observations.
I'll pray about
it.”

They lingered awhile before saying the
goodbyes that became harder with each passing week.

* * *

Leaning back on the small sofa, Drago
stared into the bland efficiency flat, sadness tugging at his
heart.
There had never been any mention of a baby.
He had felt so
certain that Grace was pregnant, but surely she would have
mentioned it by now if it were so.

Thank God I kept my suspicions to
myself, he thought.
Grace would have suffered if her hopes had been
raised.

He pushed the sobering
truth away, heading for his cot to seek his sleep.
But his mind
refused him rest, taunting him relentlessly, whispering that maybe
he, not his wife, was unable to produce a child.
His heart ached
for her more deeply as he imagined Grace torturing herself in this
manner.
Sick dread invaded the little peace left in the recesses of
his soul as a new, more terrible thought dawned.

Carson Khaler could have given Grace
what he could not.

No.
Sleep would evade him this night,
he knew.

* * *

Suffocating heat pressed in from every
angle as Grace rolled her luggage over the steel plated track that
marked the exit from the terminal building, and the heavy thunk of
the glass panels closing sealed her out with the oppressive July
haze.
Yves pulled up in the compact rental, a blessed sight to
Grace's weary eyes, and he rushed to toss her bag into the trunk
after helping her into the passenger’s seat.
Temperatures hovered
precariously near the one-hundred degree mark, taxing even the
monstrous climate control units of Pittsburgh International
Airport.
The car's tinier unit hummed noisily, working overtime to
extract moisture from the humid air.

Her white, cotton sundress, wilted and
wrinkled from travel, hung loose and light on her frame, but
Grace's skin protested its presence.
A cool shower and nap was the
only cure for her ailment, and she thanked Yves for handling
everything.

“
Don't mention it,
Gracie,” he laughed amiably.
“I'm good for it.”

“
How far to the hotel?”
she questioned.

“
Maybe ten or fifteen
minutes once we get out of this place.
Don't get your hair up!
Drago and Anto won't be back until late in the afternoon.
We'll
beat them by a few hours.”

“
Honestly, I'm more
worried about how long until I can take a nap!”

She sighed, tired humor evident in her
voice.

The sibling like pair navigated toward
the cool sanctuary of reserved hotel rooms, their senses dulled
from the heat even after they arrived and were able to make their
way to their rooms.

Burgundy walls trimmed with white
crown and chair moldings enclosed her ample unit on the third
floor, and a queen-sized bed draped in white and gold coverings was
the room's focal point.
Driven by her desire for order, Grace
dutifully hung her belongings in the brightly painted chifferobe
before she allowed herself the luxury she craved.

Her body cooled in the chilly room as
she placed her toiletries in the stunning marbled bath.
Creamy
taupe swirled in through the shiny tiles and traces of the deep
burgundy color were feathered in randomly.
The chrome fixtures
gleamed against the backdrop.
Bliss permeated her being when the
tepid shower water washed over her, the stickiness from the heat
sliding away with the suds of her honeysuckle scented soap.
Soothed
and relaxed, she dried her skin with the soft terry-cloth towel and
reached for the revealing nightgown she had purchased for her
reunion with her husband.

Grace caught Drago's familiar, spicy
scent, sending a pang of longing through her in delicious
anticipation of the night ahead, and casting the gown aside, she
sought its origin.

A cadet-blue dress shirt.

Holding it close, she inhaled the
masculine smell of her lover before wrapping herself in the large
garment and wandering to the beckoning bed.
Drago's long absence
combined with the hormones flooding her body had her wanton with
desire for him, but sleep came easily in her exhaustion, thoughts
of his arrival filling her dreams as she drifted off.

Darkness greeted Drago as he entered
the room a few hours later, the steady sound of air rushing from
the vents all that met his ears, filling him with anxiety that his
wife was out, and that their reunion would be delayed.
But his eyes
adjusted to the low light, revealing what the closed draperies'
darkness had concealed a minute before.
Grace's sleeping form lay
curled upon the bed, tucked beneath a chenille blanket.

His eyes feasted on her silky, black
hair covering the pillow she rested on, and he shed his shirt and
shoes silently before climbing into the bed beside her.

“
Som tu, moja
ž
ena,” he breathed
huskily into her ear as his hands covered her shoulders.

She rolled to face him, but he covered
her lips with his, pinning her on her back, plundering her mouth in
a searing welcome.
Breaking the kiss at last, he regarded her with
his dark eyes.

“
I have missed you,” he
shared.

“
I've missed you, too,”
she answered softly.

Shyness overcame her suddenly, and she
lowered her lashes, a smile playing on her lips.
She eagerly
awaited the moment his hands would rove over her and discover the
evidence of their child in her body, realizing that for all her
excitement and anticipation, she could not form the words to reveal
her long kept secret.

“
You wear my shirt...,” he
murmured as he began unbuttoning it slowly.
“But not for much
longer.”

Grace reveled in the feel of his
strong, muscled shoulders and arms beneath her hands.
Her lips
parted willingly under his hungry mouth, and frissons of
electricity coursed through her veins as he bared her flesh inch by
inch.
Dipping his head, he covered her newly exposed breast with
his mouth, bringing her off the bed with a moan.

He raised his head and looked
questioningly into her eyes.

“
Your breasts are fuller,
milovany,” he observed aloud with a peculiar glint in his
eyes.

He skimmed his lips over the tight
peak, wrenching another low moan from deep in Grace's
throat.

“
And much more
sensitive.”

Grace could not respond.
Her body
screamed for his touch, all thought replaced with need for his lips
upon her flesh.
The sultry look in her eyes sent fire to Drago's
loins, and he hardened instantly under her hungry, liquid gaze.
His
hands fumbled with the remaining buttons, his mind
racing.

Her full breasts, so sensitive to his
touch, and the way her eyes, at first lowered shyly, now boldly
dared him to bare her flesh further, intimated her secret.
With
impatience to look upon her nakedness, to discover the evidence
that her body ripened with his child, Drago ripped the shirt open,
scattering it's buttons to the floor in a swift motion.

Grace smiled carnally as he beheld her
small, protruding belly.

Voice choked with
delighted emotion, he asked, “Why didn't you tell me sooner,
moja
ž
ena?”

“
Because I wanted to see
your face when you first knew.”

He palmed her lovingly, fanning kisses
across the small swell.

“
Welcome, moja
dieta,
my little one
,” he whispered against the curve of her body before
returning to her side and cradling her against his
chest.

Drago's arms cocooned her
protectively, and she held him fast to her, safe and secure in his
potent embrace.

“
When, Gracie?”
he
asked.

“
Mid December.”

Rubbing his cheek against her hair, he
murmured, “Milujemtá.”

* * *

If the previous night was any
indication of how pregnancy affected his wife, Drago vowed he would
keep her that way as often as she would allow it.
Their lovemaking
left him hungry to test his theory again this morning, but he would
wait until she awoke on her own.
He wanted her to rest after their
vigorous congresses, and a smile played on his lips as he stepped
into the shower and considered how soon that would be.

Chapter 18

A simple brunch was laid out upon the
table in Guy Antolini's suite, neglected as the men drilled kick
set ups in the sitting room's center.
Furniture lined the walls,
moved to accommodate the mock session.
Their scheduled gym time
would offer a thorough run through of strategy, but Drago was not
one to waste precious time.
Methodically, they viewed Souva's fight
clips, timing his movements and memorizing his footwork, then
mimicking them as Drago practiced the counter maneuvers that would
allow him to evade Elian's forays and get him into striking
distance.

“
When you go left there,
pivot your hip,” Guy coached.
“Yeah, like that.”

Drago worked the combination a few
times over.
Just like he had been doing for months.

“
It'll add more power to
the hook.
Run through that sequence again.”

The Friar acted as Souva, having
studied the man for months, and Drago demonstrated the moves
perfectly.

“
Wrap it up, boys,” Guy
announced.
“We'll work through takedown defense on the
mat.”

Drago checked the time before downing
a liter of water while Guy and the Friar replaced the furniture
over the indentations in the carpeting.

“
Final drink until after
weigh-ins tomorrow?”
Yves guessed.

“
Nie.
I'll have a half
liter after the mat time,” Drago responded.
“I was a pound under
last night, and floated off another overnight.
I'll check the scale
before I drink though.”

The Friar laughed.
“You should sweat
off at least two pounds on the mat.
You'll be on weight tonight
even with the water.
Have you eaten?”

“
Some fruit this morning.
I'll have a protein shake later if I'm at least two pounds under
weight.”

“
Tomorrow, Drago, we'll
have you hydrated and get you fed.
Weight can be a
real...”

Drago chuckled, knowing exactly what
the man meant.

“
There's my Gracie girl,”
Guy boomed when his daughter appeared.

After kissing his cheeks, she spied
the waiting brunch and directly began to fill a plate.

“
Everything looks
delicious!
I'm famished!”

Her presence erased all thoughts in
Drago's mind besides the news he wanted to share.

Leaning over her shoulder,
his voice hummed, “May I now explain that you are eating for
two,
ž
ena?”

Her smile was his answer.

Turning her around, his hand rested
upon her mid-section, its weight molding the navy material of her
sundress to the rounding swell of her body.
A broad smile stretched
across Drago's face, pride evident in his voice as he
spoke.

“
It appears that you,
Anto, are going to be a grandfather by Christmas.”

He watched understanding dawn, and his
father-in-law's face lit with eye twinkling mischief.

“
It's about time!
Frankly,
I was beginning to wonder about you two.
Thought
perhaps...”

Grace broke in before her father could
tease on further.

“
That'll be quite enough
out of you, Dad.”

Her mock sternness lost its bite under
her blushing smile.

“
Ah, Gracie girl,” he
beamed, “Come here and give this granddad a hug.”

Yves shook Drago's hand in hearty
congratulation.

“
I don't know why I'm
smiling, Drago.
Truth is, there will be no living with him
now.”

Yves motioned towards Guy, who was
absorbed in conducting an inquisition about his daughter's
nutrition and exercise routines before continuing with a
chuckle.

“
Better you than me, my
friend.”

Drago grinned his reply.

“
But Guy will be here with
you, Friar.
Grace and I return to Slovakia before July's
end.”

“
And I thought you
honorable,” Yves declared with feigned disgust.

* * *

“
Steady...,” Guy's command
hung in the air.

Souva was stalking him, looking for a
takedown, and Drago knew another attempt was imminent.
The slight
drift of his opponent's eyes toward his lead leg gave him away.
Halfway through the first round, he had stuffed three shots from
Elian Souva, and his jab was landing at will, the telltale signs of
its cumulative damage manifested in the bubble under Souva's right
eye.
Drago inhaled deeply through his nose, pushing air from his
lungs with a hiss as it seeped from his closed bite.

A fighter never let his jaw hang open.
To do so was to court a knockout.

The practiced lead-ins were highly
successful, and again he jabbed at Elian's eye before the bell
sounded, sending both men to their corners.

“
Perfect round,” Guy
praised.
“Keep working the patterns, but add the low leg if it's
there for the taking.
We're definitely up on the cards.”

“
Drink,” the Friar
ordered.

Drago opened his mouth, swirled the
liquid, then spit it out.

“
Let's go, let's
go!”

The second round, the Brazilian
switched stance and faked a kick before lunging again for Drago's
leg.
The shot was deep, forcing Drago backward until the metal cage
halted his retreat.
Drago heavily pushed down on his opponent's
head while hipping out, fighting off the takedown.
Forcing his arm
under Souva's shoulder to break his control, Drago drove his
shoulder into the man's jaw, but as he turned, Souva abandoned the
takedown, transitioning to a lateral drop that sent Drago careening
toward the canvas.
He gained his bearings in time to clutch Souva's
arms, preventing damage from punches as the Brazilian assumed side
control.
But Elian immediately began slamming his knee into Drago's
ribcage.
The force of the blow knocked the breath from his body,
and Drago knew he had to escape this perilous position.
He
maneuvered out to the side as Souva followed with the punishing
knees.

Either get out or you are finished, he
told himself as another knee landed.
He felt the shock in his
ribcage.

With every ounce of strength he could
muster, still clutching Souva's upper body in his vice-like grip,
Drago rolled through, taking Souva with him, reversing their
position so that he was now in side control.

The stunned expression in Elian's eyes
at the unexpected roll made each week with the eccentric Jean Luke
inestimably valuable.
Drago delivered brutal damage in return as
the Friar's words raced through the edges of his mind.

Survive the first takedown.
Steal Souva's confidence by negating his ground dominance.
Achieve
mental victory, and physical victory will follow.

I have done it, he thought as the
round ended.

He jumped up, eager to get to his
corner.
Searing pain ripped through his side as he straightened,
forcing him back to his knees as his lungs sucked hungrily for air
that refused to fill his chest.
His mind registered what the
adrenaline had masked in his body.

His ribs were broken.

Rising again, Drago wisely remained
partially hunched, unwilling to chance discovery and the
possibility that the fight would be stopped.
Breathing in shallow
pants, he reached his corner without drawing the doctor's
attention.

Acutely aware of the hovering camera
men, the Friar spoke in a rapid, hushed whisper.

“
They're
broken?”

“
Yes.”

“
Can you
breathe?”

“
Shallow.”

“
Slow it down.
Now
deeply.”

The approach of cameras brought Guy
close in front of Drago's face, and his father-in-law grabbed his
attention away from the gnawing pain by speaking to him in his
native tongue.
Drago understood why he didn't want the content of
their conversation to be understood, but he was still surprised to
learn that Guy had taken the time to learn Slovakian.

“
Môzete pokracovat?
Can you continue?
”

“
Nebudem sa
zastavi,
I will not be
stopped.
”

The quick nod of Guy's head showed
that the man would support his decision.

“
Drago, listen to me
carefully.
Protect the side at all times.
Elbows in, head tucked.
Throw elbows.
Your punches will not be as effective now.
Force
yourself to breathe deeply.
You'll have to fight through the
pain.”

Guy directed him, the words tumbling
into nothingness before he comprehended their form.
Water poured
into his mouth, and coolness covered his neck, both familiar
routines that tethered him to the moment, keeping him from
succumbing to the pain.

Back in the center of the ring, it
took him a moment to recall how he'd gotten there.
But it didn't
matter.
Brutal instinct and sheer heart had him in their
enthrallment now, and his muscles obeyed their keening call.
Punish
and defeat.
Conjuring every ounce of determination housed in his
soul, Drago worked into striking distance, slamming his elbows into
a battered Souva tirelessly.
He registered no feeling as Souva
countered with a straight right, smashing into his own beaten face.
Struggling to draw air, Drago willed his body to endure.

Just a minute or two more!
This fight
is so close!
Don't give up one second early!
His mind screamed
these encouragements and commands in his foggy thoughts.

But even heart could not sustain his
body as his lung was punctured by the broken ribs in his body.
Driving forward, throwing devastating blows in effort to finish the
fight, Drago crumpled to the mat.
His body could not go on.
Souva
recovered his wits and pounced on him, but Drago never felt the
blow that ended the fight, losing consciousness before Souva
claimed the victory.

Guy beat the medical team to Drago's
body, face down on the canvas.

As they rapidly tried to figure out
why the fighter had collapsed, Guy informed them, “His ribs are
broken.”

The doctor ordered everyone about
quickly.

“
Get the ambulance ready.
His lung may be punctured.”

The enormous crowd was eerily quiet as
Drago's body was secured on the backboard and lifted out of the
octagon.
Guy and the Friar followed the stretcher to the waiting
ambulance, helpless to do more.
As Guy climbed behind the wheel of
his rental, he turned to the Friar.

“
Go get Grace and tell her
he's alright for chrissake!”

Not sure he believed Guy's brave
words, the Friar headed to Grace's hotel room, knowing he would lie
to her if necessary to keep her calm.

* * *

Grace sat staring at the television in
shocked disbelief.
She had known Drago was hurt after the second
round.
Unable to tear her eyes away, she had watched as he battled
for every point scored.
Grace couldn't have been prouder of him.
His final foray had been glorious to her eyes, for she knew it was
all heart.
Gasping in horror as his body slammed to the canvas,
Grace fought the nauseating panic that flooded her stomach.
Waiting
for her father or the Friar was almost more than she could bear,
and she paced the lonely floor of their hotel room, nervous energy
humming through her with torturous intensity.