Chapter 14
Five days later, Tila was ready to scream. She slept beside Joran every night, but they didn’t touch. At least not at the beginning of the night. She generally woke up in his arms in the morning, but they never spoke of it.
They talked about Laith and Rafi, spending hours playing with them. She taught Joran how to tell their sons apart, recognizing the slight differences between them. They talked about security measures, hired three nannies, two for the day shifts and one for the night.
Tila was losing weight because she now got at least five hours of uninterrupted sleep every night, ate nutritious meals, and even had time to work out with Joran in the morning. Of course, he worked out like a maniac while she walked on the treadmill and did a few weight workouts as she slowly regained strength in her limbs.
But she and Joran never really talked . Oh, they discussed the weather, their sons’ progress, their cute faces or the palace staff. But they never spoke about themselves, about the future, about why she was here or what would happen in the near or distant future.
The twins were thriving though. Tila kept telling herself that their health and happiness was the only thing that mattered.
But lying in bed next to Joran every night, waking up in his arms, feeling his body’s reaction to their closeness…feeling her own body’s less obvious reaction to him holding her like he never wanted to let her go, like every breath she took was important to him…that was hard. No, that was very close to hell!
Was this some sort of divine punishment for something she’d done in the past? Yes, she’d lived her life on the edge for a long time. She’d loved every moment. She’d considered every day, every breath, to be a beautiful gift, one that she’d wanted to offer to anyone who crossed her path through kindness and happiness.
Had she missed someone who needed help? Had she hurt someone without realizing?
“What’s wrong?” Joran asked as he entered their suite that night. They were getting ready to have dinner with his brothers and sisters.
“Nothing,” she replied, smiling to the nanny who had just handed over a freshly bathed and adorably dressed Laith. Rafi was squirming on his back on the floor by her feet, his arms and legs reaching eagerly for a snuggle, his tummy full from a recent bottle.
Joran scooped Rafi into his arms, blowing raspberries into the little man’s tummy. The boy was just starting to smile and it was a delight to see those expressions grow and change with every new experience.
But it was driving her crazy, spending time with Joran, not being able to touch him and not knowing what was going to happen. What did he want from her? What did she want from him?
Love. The word popped into her mind immediately and wouldn’t seem to go away, no matter how much she tried to tell herself that Joran wasn’t the kind to fall in love. He was the kind of man who was passionate in bed, a great father, but beyond that, he didn’t seem to want anything more from her.
“Something is bothering you,” he contradicted, turning Laith around so that his back was against Joran’s chest.
Tila decided to just…put it out there. “I want my own bedroom,” she blurted, snapping the buttons on Rafi’s tiny outfit.
There was a stunned, painful silence. Then Joran replied with a simple, “No.” Joran turned away, carrying Laith to the window, whispering something into her son’s ear.
“No?” she echoed, standing up and lifting Rafi into her arms. “Just no? No discussion? Nothing but an adamant no?”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Did you misunderstand?”
She ground her teeth together in frustration. “Joran, you can’t just tell me no. I can’t stand sleeping next to you every night and…!”
Joran spun around, his eyes heating up. “And?” he demanded, still holding Laith. The little man was kicking gleefully, oblivious to the growing tension between his parents.
“And…!” she stopped, not wanting to admit how much it bothered her when he held her close, but didn’t seem to want anything more. The snuggling was nice. Very nice. She’d realized over the past five days that they hadn’t done much snuggling while they been together before. There hadn’t been time. They had been very aware of the limited time they had together. Joran always had to leave and there were only hours, not days, to spend getting to know one another.
“Nothing,” she grumbled, kissing Rafi and rubbing his belly. “We’re late for dinner.”
The next hour was both painful and delightful. Tila enjoyed getting to know Tasha and Marianna. Raj was a teasing charmer, who adored his tiny nephews. Khal and Raj bickered over holding the babies, but always backed away whenever Tasha or Marianna wanted to hold one. It was adorable how such large, powerful men could coo and tickle tiny babies.
But too soon, dinner ended. She and Joran returned to their private suite in silence, each carrying a sleeping baby. As soon as they entered their suite, the nanny took over, gently getting the twins tucked in for the night.
And then Tila was alone with Joran. The awkward silence seemed to stretch on forever.