The Prince’s Secret Twins (Al-Sintra Family #2)

Chapter 3

Tila felt as if her world was falling apart. Joran had returned and she was so tired! One baby was difficult enough, but she had two babies and they seemed to need to eat every five minutes. Her life had become a constant rotation of feeding, burping, soothing, changing dirty diapers, and trying to convince herself she wasn’t losing her mind. The fluctuating hormones didn’t help either. One moment, she was laughing at their adorable expressions, the next, she was sobbing because their hair wasn’t fluffy enough.

“Tila, if these children are mine, then we need to get you to safety.”

The warning brought her eyes back to Joran’s and her heart ached. He was so damn handsome and alive and strong and…everything she wasn’t. He was even clean! She’d bet a whole month of baby formula money that he’d had a shower within the last twenty-four hours. Tila wasn’t sure if she’d had a shower in the past week. In fact, she wasn’t even sure what day it was!

“Safety?” She blinked, trying to make sense of what he was saying, but her breasts ached. She hadn’t nursed her sons last night. Had they slept through the night? No, that was impossible. They were only two months old. They wouldn’t sleep through the night for another several months according to the baby books.

The books she wanted to burn for imparting that bit of information. She was so tired and…!

Tila glanced down at the tee shirt she’d donned…she wasn’t sure when she’d pulled this ugly, stretched-out-of-shape tee shirt on. In fact, she had to glance towards a window to see if it was night or day.

Night.

“What time is it?” she asked, curling her shoulders inwards and crossing her arms over her chest. Her milk was leaking since the boys hadn’t woken up to nurse. And dear heaven, her breasts ached. They were so full of milk, she would need to pump and that was such a humiliating, bovine experience.

Edin started to turn away. “Maybe we should–”

“Give me my baby!” Tila replied, grabbing the tiny infant out of the big man’s arms.

Algar kept bouncing the baby in his arms. “Should I continue to hold this one?”

Tila looked down at the boy in his arms. “That’s Laith and he prefers to sleep in his crib.” She bounced the other baby in her arms. “This one is Rafi and he gets irritated if I put him in his crib.”

“He was in the crib earlier.”

“Was he the first to wake up?” she asked.

“Yes, but–”

“That’s Rafi,” she sighed, looking down at her son. “He’s impatient and demanding.”

“Laith isn’t?” Joran asked, fascinated. She smiled, remembering how excited she’d been at the news that she was pregnant. For a brief moment, Tila felt the urge to tell him everything, every little detail of their emerging personalities. She wanted to tell him how excited she’d been at the discovery that she was giving birth to twins and the terror she’d felt as soon as the high had subsided. She wanted to tell him so much!

Then she remembered that he had left her. He’d ignored all of her communications.

He’d abandoned her when she’d needed him most.

Turning her back on Joran so she couldn’t see how handsome he was, or remember the way she’d held onto his strong, powerful shoulders when he’d done that thing with his mouth and…oh dear heaven!

Shaking off those memories, she sighed, and banished those delicious, long-ago memories. Instead, she looked down at her precious son. “Yes, this is Laith. And he’s my son. Not yours.” She sniffed and blinked back more tears. “Go away. We’re fine.”

“Tila,” Joran began, and she could feel the warmth of his body against her back. He wasn’t touching her, but she could still feel him, could smell him and…oh, he smelled good! Unlike her. She reeked of body odor and baby puke and…who even knew what else!

Turning, she settled Laith in his arms. “Here, I need a shower.”

“Tila,” he started to say, even as he protectively pulled the small infant against his massive chest. “We need to talk.”

She held up a hand, stopping whatever he was about to say. She noticed the first man walk behind Joran and disappear into the small bedroom. Moments later, he reappeared without Rafi in his arms. Then the two strangers politely disappeared through her front door. They looked relieved as well as concerned and she didn’t understand the last part. Especially when one of them, she didn’t know their names, pulled his radio off the vests they both grabbed and muttered something into the microphone. She couldn’t hear what was said as the door shut behind him. But Tila thought she’d heard something along the lines of, “must hurry” before the two men disappeared.

When they were alone, Tila didn’t wait for Joran to speak. Instead, she walked to her bathroom and closed the door. For good measure, she locked it behind her. She knew that it wouldn’t keep Joran out, but it was a silent, angry message.

With a flick of her wrist, she turned on the shower. While she waited for the water to warm up, she took off her clothes, then stood in front of her tiny mirror. Her body had changed dramatically since the birth of her baby boys. Her breasts were bigger, as was the rest of her. She still hadn’t lost the pregnancy weight so her stomach was saggy. Her thighs were fine, but there were ugly, silver lines running along the skin on her shapeless stomach and thighs indicating where her body had stretched to support her pregnancy.

But it was her face that really bothered her. The pregnancy weight would come off, or it wouldn’t. She wasn’t overly concerned about her weight. No, what really pained her was how haggard she looked. Since this was the first time she’d looked in the mirror in quite a while, Tila was shocked at how tired she seemed. Her hair hadn’t been washed in…she wasn’t sure how long. The last two times she’d showered, shampoo hadn’t been a priority. Just getting clean before her baby boys protested had been her only goal.

Now that Joran was outside the bathroom, she stepped under the water, reveling in the silence. Ever since giving birth, Tila had taken showers with her babies in their car seats right outside her shower. They’d screamed their outrage that they’d been left alone, so she’d hurried through the process.

Now, lingering under the warm water, knowing that her tiny boys were protected and Joran would care for them if they woke again, she sighed with happiness. Oh, it felt so good to feel the water on her skin and not hear the shrill cries of Rafi or Laith. However, even as she enjoyed the sensation of them not being right outside her shower, Tila missed them. For the past two months, every moment of her day had been spent caring for her infant sons. So even five minutes alone meant that she’d missed five minutes of their lives.

She dumped shampoo into her hand, then lathered up her hair. Conditioner next and she contemplated shaving her legs. She didn’t want to seem vain, but before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed her razor.

“I’m not doing this for him,” she muttered, bending down and stretching muscles that hadn’t been stretched for a long time as she scraped away the hair that had been growing on her legs. Before the babies had been born, Tila hadn’t been able to reach her legs, or see around her pregnant belly. Now that she could, her mangled pride shuddered at the sight.

Twenty minutes later, she stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Unfortunately, she hadn’t thought to grab clothes before coming into the bathroom. That meant she needed to step out of the locked bathroom wearing only a towel.

Feeling better after her one hour of sleep plus a long, rejuvenating shower, Tila pulled the door open and…froze.

Joran was sitting on her bed, his back propped up against the headboard and his long, strong legs stretched out. He’d made her bed and Tila almost cried at the beauty of it.

“You need to get out,” she told him, turning away from him. She tightened the towel around her body and pulled the closet door open. She contemplated her options, but the leggings she’d preferred pre-pregnancy were still too tight to be comfortable. In fact, none of her clothes fit her properly. Turning away from the closet, she walked over to the pile of clean laundry, fishing out a pair of ugly sweatpants.

Before Joran’s arrival, she had loved these sweatpants. They were comfortable and warm, didn’t cut into her belly and added a thick layer of protection against leaks from her sons’ diapers.

Joran’s deep, masculine voice surprised her when he asked, “Why? I’ve seen every part of you before.”

She glared at him, then stomped back into the bathroom. She started to pull off the towel, but then realized she didn’t have panties, bra, or a top. Leaning her head against the door, she fought back a sob of frustration. Before the thought could finish forming, a knock sounded on the door.

Before she could answer, the door opened slightly. A strong hand with one of her ugly nursing bras, a huge sweatshirt, and a pair of white cotton panties dangled from his fingers.

She grabbed the clothing and pushed the door closed.

Tila wasn’t going to weaken just because the man had realized her problem. No, she was going to be strong. She wouldn’t allow this man to just waltz back into her life. He’d abandoned her and their babies.

As she dressed, ignoring how much she hated the maternity bra and the panties, Tila told herself that she and Joran could have a calm, rational conversation about sharing custody. It would tear her apart to not have her baby boys with her every night, but it was the right thing to do. Not for Joran. If it were up to her, Joran could rot in hell. No, sharing custody was the right thing to do because her sons deserved to have a strong father figure in their lives.

When she was dressed, Tila stepped out of the bathroom.

Joran was standing next to her bed, his big, strong arms crossed over his massive chest. She longed to be enfolded by those arms. Tila remembered how good it felt to be in Joran’s arms, to feel him holding her as she fell asleep, knowing that he was there to hold and protect her.

“We can work out an arrangement,” she began, starting the conversation. She sniffed back the tears and walked over to her dresser, grabbing a brush.

“What sort of arrangement did you have in mind?” he asked, his tone as smooth as dark chocolate.

She closed her eyes, then remembered he could see her reflection in the mirror. “How about if you get our boys on the weekends and I’ll take them during the week?” she offered hopefully. “That way, you can work and they won’t interrupt you.”

Please, please, please don’t take my babies for longer than a weekend, she chanted mentally. Not for longer! Tila didn’t think she could stand being away from her babies for longer than a couple of days. Well, hours. Okay, she’d missed them during the twenty minute shower.

“How about if you marry me and we’ll raise them together?”

Marriage? Tila spun around, the hairbrush pointed towards him like a weapon. “Don’t you dare!” When she spotted a dark eyebrow lifting in silent inquiry, Tila had to think fast, trying to come up with a reason to reject his suggestion other than her hatred for how he’d abandoned her.

“A marriage between us wouldn’t last.” She sniffed and turned around, brutally pulling the brush through her hair. However, her hormones were still working overtime and, with every stroke of her brush, more hair came off, tangled in her hairbrush.

Rationally, she knew that she wasn’t going bald. The pregnancy hormones had given her extra thick hair and now, as the hormones normalized, her hair would return to what it was before.

But she wasn’t rational. The pregnancy hormones were still overwhelming, so the sight of the long strands of hair in her brush made her burst into tears.

Immediately, she felt strong arms wrap around her and Tila pressed her face against that strong, familiar chest.

For several moments, Tila allowed herself the luxury of crying, reveling in his soothing words and the soft caress of his hands against her back. Thankfully, the emotions left her just as quickly as they arrived. So after only three or four minutes, she pulled away and sighed, wiped her tears, and…she was back. Her sanity returned.

“Thank you for that,” she whispered and started brushing her hair again, more slowly this time. She didn’t laugh at the confusion in Joran’s eyes. But it was hilarious.

“We were talking about a custody arrangement,” she continued.

Joran ran a hand through his hair and stepped back. After several more confused and wary glances in her direction, he shook his head. “No, we were discussing marriage.”

Tila tamped down on the traitorous flare of joy. Marriage was out of the question. She could never trust Joran again. He’d left her without a word and she’d gone through a terrifying pregnancy and birth all alone.

“Well, then the answer is no. I won’t marry you.” She glanced at him in the mirror again, still brushing, painstakingly working out the tangles that had built up over the past …however long it had been since she’d had time to brush her hair. “So…custody arrangements. Are you okay with having the boys on the weekends? You’ll need to get car seats for them. I’ll text you the names of the car seats I have so that we have the same brand. You’ll need to install them in your vehicles.” She looked at him again. “How many vehicles do you have?”

“A few,” he replied. Tila could tell he wasn’t telling her the truth.

Spinning around, she glared at him. “You don’t have to lie to me, Joran. If you don’t have a vehicle, then I’ll lend you mine. I traded my roadster in for a minivan several months ago.”

His surprise sparkled in his eyes and Tila felt a small thrill of retribution. “You don’t have the roadster that you drove the last time I saw you?”

“Nope,” she snapped, remembering how much she’d enjoyed driving her little red roadster with a slight pang. It had been so exciting, so liberating. She’d driven that little car all over town, down country roads and along highways. Yeah, she might have acquired more than one speeding ticket because of her…exhilarating…driving tendencies, but that was all in the past now.

“Why did you trade it in?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because a woman pregnant with twins can’t fit in a roadster, Joran,” she replied flatly. She sniffed as she continued brushing her hair. “The minivan is much more practical. Also, it’s easier to get the car seats in and out of.” She glanced at him through the mirror. “You should consider a minivan. It’s much better for the boys.”

She fought down a snicker at his grimace. She luxuriated in brushing her hair without either son…! She spoke too soon. A loud squeal rent the air.

Without a word, Tila put the brush down and stepped across the hallway to the tiny second bedroom where she’d barely managed to fit two cribs. If it hadn’t been for Ahmed across the street, she never would have figured out how to put them together. She’d heavily relied on the help of everyone in her community to prepare for her sons’ arrival.

“That’s unfortunate,” he replied softly. “I remember how much you loved that car.”

Tila swallowed back the sudden ache of memory. She wasn’t sure if the pain was caused by the tenderness in his eyes, because she knew he truly understood, or because her hormones were still all over the place.

“My neighbors seemed to applaud with delight when I got the minivan,” she told him wistfully, looking out at the sky that was starting to lighten. Morning was coming. Time insisted on passing, even when she wanted it to stand still, to give her a moment to breathe…and rest.

Blinking, she glanced at Joran and sighed. “Look Joran, I’ve had maybe one hour’s sleep in the past…” she looked around but she had no idea where her cell phone was. “I don’t even know how long. Every part of my body aches.” She thought about her breasts that literally throbbed now. “I need to…do something. Would you give me some privacy?”

Joran stood up and moved to stand in front of her, placing warm hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked softly.

A tear slid down her cheek and she pulled her eyes away from his, staring at his chest. “I slept through the boys’ last feeding,” she whispered. “Now I need to…” she closed her eyes, too embarrassed to explain in detail. “I need to fix that.”

He stood there for another moment, then sighed, sliding his warm hands down her upper arms. “Fine. I’ll leave for a few moments. But I’ll be right outside, okay?”

“Fine,” she said with a sniffle.