“I’m not sure I like this new side of you,” Tristan addressed Robert. “I think the strong, stoic persona fit you much better.”
Robert grinned.
Tristan’s phone buzzed. Normally, he wouldn’t answer, but with Rowan’s prognosis still unknown, he needed to. He slipped his mobile out of his pocket. “I apologize,” he said before looking at the screen. “Gaffer?” he said.
Jamie shifted beside him and turned to watch him.
“Tristan, I just got word on Rowan,” Nico said.
Tristan’s heart dropped to his stomach. Rowan hadn’t returned his calls. Caleb hadn’t hit him up either. But his National coach was calling. He knew Rowan and Nico were tight.
“It’s bad.” Tristan had meant it as a question, but based on the events, it came out a statement.
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“Tell me.”
“At first, they thought it was a patella dislocation. It was the call at the field. They sent him for X-rays. But the artery was compromised in his leg. They have to admit him for emergency surgery.”
“What? It was a normal tackle. He was talking to me. It didn’t seem that bad.”
“I know. It’s a freak injury. But, Tristan, he could lose his leg.”
Tristan bowed his head and lifted a shaky hand to it. People didn’t lose their legs from playing football. This was craziness. “Where is he?”
“Where are you?”
Tristan looked around, unable to process what was happening. Jamie’s hand landed on his shoulder, grounding him.
“I’m on my way to the Christmas gala. But I’m sure I can borrow a car or a helicopter or a plane or a teleporter.” He looked over to Jamie. “You have all that, right?”
“We can get you wherever you need to go,” Jamie assured him.
“Listen, we can’t do anything right now. They are going to stabilize him first and then transport him to an undisclosed hospital. I’m going to be at the gala too. When we get more information, we can come up with a plan.”
“Right. Okay. Can I call Caleb? He’s worried.”
“You can tell Caleb, but that’s it. Hartesfield will tell the rest of your team tomorrow after he’s been stabilized. I’ll see you shortly, and hopefully, I’ll have more information.”
Tristan disconnected and called Caleb. He gave him minimal information but told him to be ready to go when they knew more. Jamie and Robert were quiet the rest of the ride, allowing Tristan to drown in worry. The nerves about going to the palace were replaced with concern for his best mate.
Tristan missed the arrival and the entry. He was there, but his mind was all wrapped up in Rowan’s misery. He shuddered when he thought of Rowan possibly losing his leg.
Jamie led Tristan through a maze of hallways until, finally, they were entering the ballroom. Suddenly, Tristan reengaged. Ele was here somewhere. Just knowing she was within touching distance calmed him.
“Queen first, I think,” Jamie said.
He led Tristan farther into the room.
Earlier, Jamie had explained how each gala had a theme. This year’s was Winter White. Everything in the room was a shimmery white or silver. It was a winter wonderland.
As he walked next to Jamie, the earlier nerves returned. Tonight was important, and Tristan needed to be present. The queen was mingling, but the crowds parted for Jamie, and Tristan followed in his wake. Jamie kissed the queen on her cheek and then moved to stand to her right.
Tristan was all alone in front of her. He bowed, as instructed. When he straightened, he was looking into the shrewd eyes of the ruler of his country. He was conspicuous in the room for many reasons. Mostly, aristocratic white people milled around. Here he was, a black footballer in their midst. But he could tell the queen wasn’t judging.
“Your Majesty,” he said, thankful he’d looked up the proper address a couple of months ago.
“Mr. Davenport.”
“I can see Ele comes by her beauty naturally.”
She smirked. “A charmer.”
“Perhaps. But honest to a fault.”
“Yes, so I’ve gathered, T-Dav.”
He had the grace to blush. “Might have to rethink that.”
“Indeed,” she said with a wink.
“Now, who’s the charmer, Your Majesty?”
A tittering laugh sounded from her, and Tristan saw Jamie’s eyes widen.
“I don’t think you are here to romance an old woman though. Seems redundant to say, take care of her. She wouldn’t thank me for it.” Her gaze faltered for a moment. “She’s around here somewhere.”
She held her ring. Tristan grabbed her hand, and with a quick look at a smirking Jamie, he bowed his head and kissed it. He turned away from the queen and made his way out of her orbit. The crowd loosened up, the farther away he wandered. People were twirling around on the dance floor to some classical music Tristan would never be able to identify.
He looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ele. He circled around the room. Spotting Sir Nico with his ex-wife, Tristan started in that direction. The quickest way was through the dance floor, so he stepped cautiously into the swirling couples. Then, he spotted her, standing alone in the middle of it. Their gazes met, and she smiled so bright that it could have powered the whole of the palace. He moved quickly toward her, even as she stayed there. When he was close to her, he stopped, not sure of how to proceed. If this was going to go public, he needed her to initiate it.
He hadn’t seen her in four long months. She was as beautiful as he remembered, but there was a determination in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Instinctively, he knew this was her dance, a reunion she needed to choreograph. He wanted to take her in his arms, he wanted to drag her somewhere private, he wanted to do all sorts of wicked things with her. But he waited, a question in his eyes.
“Take a step, Tristan,” she said, repeating his words back to him.
So, he did. The closer he came, the bigger his smile. When he only had two steps left to close the distance, Ele took control.
She walked toward him, into his arms. He knew this pose. His hands moved to their designated spot, and he lifted her up, spinning her around. But this time … this time, her mouth came down on his. He thought perhaps it would be a light kiss, but she didn’t back away. Her tongue peeked out, licking across his lips. He opened to her and dived into the kiss. His hand wrapped around her nape as he drank his fill of her. He got lost in her, every one of his molecules vibrating with need and happiness.
This girl.
When she finally broke the kiss, she looked at him with a combination of awe and love. “I missed you,” she said.
“Ah, E, I missed you.”
Her hands came from around the nape of his neck and settled on his cheeks. He didn’t relinquish his hold on her.
“I love you,” she murmured.
Tristan had won the World Championship Cup this summer. He was living his dream of being a footballer. But in that moment, he knew none of that compared to the love he felt for the woman in his arms. Her strength was awe-inspiring.
“I love you. I have loved you since you tackled the Batak at St. Peter’s.”
Ele’s eyes widened. “No, you didn’t.”
“I absolutely did. You are the most courageous person I have ever met. I can’t wait to build a life with you.”