EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE
One year later
‘I BAPTIZE YOU, Mia Isabelle Elise Gaultiere, in the name of the…’
Rene grinned as the Archbishop drew a wet cross on his three-month-old daughter’s forehead and she let out an indignant yell, drowning out the rest of the prayer.
As the poor man went to hand the squalling baby back to her mother, Rene reached in to take her.
‘Hey there, Princess, don’t worry,’ he murmured to his child. ‘Daddy won’t let the bad man do that again.’
He smiled as she continued to show off her lung capacity to the small collection of invited guests he’d insisted on for the private christening, after a lot of back and forth with his advisers and the palace press officer. His little princess kicked and bawled, her face screwed up in outrage, but began to quieten when Rene gathered her against his chest and pressed her to her favourite spot, on her daddy’s shoulder.
‘Well, that went well,’ Melody whispered to him, the tone wry despite the sparkle of humour in her eyes—the incandescent blue which his daughter had inherited.
God, how could he love this woman more? Not only had she given him a daughter he adored exactly nine months after that rainy day in Wales, but she made a magnificent Princess, ready not just to take on the responsibilities of monarchy but to improve every aspect of his life and work.
‘Yeah, no one messes with Princess Mia,’ he whispered back as the officiant struggled to finish the ceremony above their daughter’s still surly protests. ‘Not even the Archbishop of Saltzaland.’
He chuckled as he leant down to kiss his wife. But then he inhaled her scent above the talcum scent of their baby—and the familiar need shot straight to his groin.
He forced himself to draw back, determined to put a chokehold on his desire.
As the small congregation came up to congratulate them both he patted his daughter’s back, while rocking her from side to side and crooning words of encouragement. It was a move he’d perfected in the early hours of the morning over the past three months—every time he raced into the nursery to pick her up whenever she cried. And, as always, because Mia was already a daddy’s girl, it did the trick.
Travis Lord—who, with the Queen of Androvia, had just been appointed as Mia’s godparent—joined him and Mia as the guests made their way through the Palace to the stateroom where the rest of the ceremony to celebrate Mia’s naming day was being held.
Travis’s heavily pregnant wife and Melody walked ahead of them, chatting away as if they hadn’t seen each other in months, when Rene knew for a fact Melody had visited the couple only a week ago to introduce them formally to Saltzaland’s new Princess. He’d missed his wife and child horribly during those twenty-four hours. But the strong friendship between the two women had been a godsend as Melody had settled into her role as Saltzaland’s new Princess, so Rene couldn’t complain too much.
‘You’re a pro already with her, man,’ Travis murmured, impressed.
‘It’s easier than it looks,’ Rene replied as his daughter let out one last hiccup of outrage, then sighed and snuggled against his neck.
Her slight weight made his heart feel so full with love he sighed, too.
‘I sure hope so,’ Travis replied. ‘We’re gonna have to hit the ground running. Belle’s having twins, we just got the confirmation,’ he added, sounding shellshocked.
Rene let out a gruff laugh, surprised all over again at how much he’d come to like Lord. They had been forced to spend a lot of time together by default in the early days of his marriage to Melody—a rushed affair after Mel and he had discovered they had hit the jackpot in Wales—because their wives were inseparable.
But somehow the animosity and antagonism which had driven his early association with Lord had turned to an unlikely friendship. He’d come to enjoy Travis’ healthy irreverence for monarchy but also to respect his deep, abiding love for Isabelle, a woman Rene had always had a great deal of respect for too. But new fatherhood had added an additional bond between them, because Travis had looked to him for advice ever since Isabelle had become pregnant—completely by accident, according to Melody—six months ago.
‘Two heirs for the price of one,’ Rene said, unable to resist ribbing the guy just a little. ‘Your Privy Council must be overjoyed.’
‘Yeah, don’t even get me started on that…’ Travis groaned. ‘Belle’s already freaking out about what we’re going to do if the first twin is a girl and the second a boy. She figures it’s not fair for the male heir to inherit the throne, but apparently Androvia’s rules of succession are strict on male primogeniture…’
‘Tell her to change the rules then. We did,’ he said simply.
Travis stopped dead. ‘Seriously? You did that?’
‘Yup. I signed the decree two days before Mia was born,’ he said. ‘Because Satlzaland’s rules of succession have never been subject to an act of parliament, the sovereign can adjust them by decree. I’m pretty sure the same is true for Androvia.’ It had required some work on his part and they hadn’t informed the press yet—because they’d already had enough press scrutiny to last them a lifetime. But, even so, the decision that his monarchy would be one where the line of succession was no longer determined by sex had been the easiest he’d ever made. It also had the added benefit of being a decision which would have infuriated his father.
The act of signing that decree had finally confirmed to him that he was no longer bound by that man’s anger or his lack of trust in his abilities any longer. After a course of therapy—encouraged by his wife—Rene had come to understand that his father had always blamed him, a tiny baby at the time, for his mother’s death, and punished him accordingly. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to forgive his father for allowing his grief to become so toxic, but at least he knew now that he had never been responsible, as a child or a man, for the dark legacy of his father’s pain.
‘Cool,’ Travis replied. ‘I’ll let Belle know—it’ll be one less thing for her to stress about,’ he finished, sounding relieved. ‘To be honest, the whole unplanned pregnancy thing already threw her for a loop, and now the news that we’re having two babies has been a double whammy.’ It was Travis’s turn to grin. ‘Not gonna lie, though, it’s kind of hot, seeing her panic about becoming a mother when I already know she’ll be awesome. But then her superpower has always been overthinking stuff.’
Rene laughed. ‘While yours is going with the flow.’
Travis nodded and grinned. ‘We’re opposites for sure. It’s what makes us such a great team, kind of like you guys.’
‘True,’ Rene agreed.
Mel’s courage and positivity and work ethic had turned out to be a productive and passionate counterpoint to his cynicism. They were both hard-headed though, and they’d had more than a few disagreements over the past year—not least about Melody’s dedication to her role as his consort. He didn’t want her working too hard and while she’d been pregnant he’d had to lay down the law a few times—and when that hadn’t worked, because she was still as stubborn and contrary as ever, he’d seduced her into a puddle of need.
As they strolled into the salon his gaze tracked to his wife, now deep in conversation with her mother and Isabelle. Her head lifted and her gaze met his, almost as if she could sense him watching her. The awareness in her expression made his pulse spike and need swell again.
The doctor had said they were good to go now and had been for weeks. But he’d been holding off. He’d chosen to sleep in an adjoining bedroom after the birth, not wanting to intrude on her while they were both snatching sleep in between dealing with Mia, because they’d made the decision not to employ a nanny just yet. But Mia was sleeping much better now. And he was struggling to sleep himself without Mel beside him.
Tonight, perhaps it was time he took the initiative. If she wasn’t ready for sex, he would just have to channel the memory of those twelve terrifying hours of labour and deal with it, but he wasn’t sure he could survive much longer without being able to touch her, to hold her.
As she stared at him now, the hot look in her eyes made the heat—and yearning—in his gut grow. But how did he know he was interpreting that look correctly and it wasn’t just wishful thinking on his part?
He broke eye contact first, then patted Travis on the back. ‘You need any tips, Travis,’ he said, feeling for the guy, having two babies to deal with in a few months’ time, ‘I’ll be happy to help. But all you really have to do is love them unconditionally.’ He stroked his daughter’s back and inhaled the baby scent he’d become addicted to. ‘And they make that easy for you.’
‘Yeah, kind of like their moms, I guess,’ Travis replied with a wry smile. ‘Thanks, man. But don’t be surprised if I’m calling you at two a.m. asking you how to change a diaper.’
They both laughed. But as they went to join their wives, Rene knew, whatever happened tonight, everything would work out. Because he loved Melody unconditionally. And always would.
* * *
Mel stood silently at the door of their daughter’s nursery and watched Rene gently stroke their baby’s back. Love pressed against her heart, even as the heat—which had been driving her to distraction for weeks now—made her core soften and ache. In nothing but a pair of pyjama bottoms, which hung low on his hips, even from the back, her husband looked good enough to eat. Her nipples peaked painfully against sheer silk as she imagined kissing his skin, inhaling the scent of bergamot and cedar she adored, and feeling him hot and heavy inside her again. She had been fully healed for weeks now, and taking contraception for over a month, but while she’d seen flashes of the fierce hunger she remembered in his eyes, he hadn’t touched her since Mia’s birth.
It was driving her insane but also feeding insecurities she thought she had buried when they’d conceived Mia a year ago now.
But at least now she had a plan—one she and Isabelle had been hatching together for over a week, after Mel had finally got the guts up to confide in her best friend.
She’d changed into the see-through negligee Isabelle had loaned her that afternoon five minutes ago, as soon as Rene had collected the baby after Mia’s final feed to put her down for the night. A nervous smile curved her lips as she remembered Isabelle’s whispered words as she’d handed over the garment before Travis had escorted her to their helicopter.
‘This never fails to get Travis going—but it’s no good to me at the moment. In fact, I doubt I’ll ever be able to fit into it again.’
But Mel’s smile at the memory of Isabelle’s disgruntled expression faded as the nerves returned while she watched Rene press his hand to their child’s back as she settled, clearly unaware of Mel’s presence.
What would she do if he didn’t want her any more? She’d read how that could happen to some men once they’d witnessed their partner giving birth—and Rene had been nothing if not frantic during those hours.
That said, he’d been so loving and supportive and attentive—with her and Mia—ever since their daughter had been born.
Mel frowned. In fact, at times he’d been a little too attentive. She suspected they were going to have trouble with Mia when she got older because her daddy doted on her so much. And they’d had more than a few cross words because Rene had shown his dictatorial side, demanding she not ‘overtax’ herself since before the birth, even though she was perfectly healthy, had a staff of people ready to help if she needed it and she adored her job.
‘You’re my best girl, aren’t you, princess?’ he whispered to their child, who was already fast asleep.
Mel felt a tiny spike of jealousy, followed by a wave of embarrassment—and consternation.
Seriously? She was becoming jealous of her own daughter now? This situation was getting ridiculous.
Time to stop worrying and take charge, Mel.
Pushing the doubts to one side, she cleared her throat. ‘I certainly hope she’s not your only best girl,’ she said.
Rene straightened and swung round, giving her a full frontal of that magnificent chest—which she had been reduced to ogling every night when he came in to get his daughter.
‘Melody?’ he said, startled.
But then his face flushed and his gaze swept down, flaring with fierce passion. And suddenly she didn’t feel ridiculous any more.
She could feel his hunger and need raking over her skin like a physical caress, even as the front of his pyjama bottoms swelled.
Her heart rejoiced. Along with her clitoris.
She’d been an idiot. Of course he still wanted her. Of course he still needed her. His reluctance to touch her had probably all been part of the ‘not overtaxing her’ agenda that she intended to have words with him about… Later .
He swore softly as he strode towards her. He clasped her hips, grasping fistfuls of the sheer fabric.
‘Where the hell did you get this?’ he hissed, clearly trying not to wake their sleeping baby despite the extreme provocation. ‘Are you trying to kill me?’ he finished, but he didn’t sound mad, he sounded desperate, his voice so husky it made her whole body throb.
She grinned, delighted with them both.
‘Isabelle. It’s a freebie from a new designer,’ she explained. ‘But fair warning, I may very well have to kill you myself if you don’t make love to me right this instant.’
‘Are you sure?’ he asked, his eyes wild but his tone cautious.
‘Absolutely.’
He groaned as he dragged her into his arms, the already huge erection prodding her belly.
‘I’m going to have to thank Isabelle,’ he muttered before devouring the pulse point in her neck.
‘Thank her later,’ she said, boosting herself into his arms—so needy and desperate already herself she was scared she would explode before he even got inside her.
But as he carried her into their bedroom—and proceeded to show her exactly how much he still wanted her with a force and fury that excited her beyond measure—it occurred to her she was going to have to buy Isabelle a new negligee, because this one was already toast.
* * *
Hours later, as Mel lay, sweaty, sated and deliciously sore, and gazed at the winter moon shining through the mullioned windows, she felt the slow, steady beat of her husband’s heart against her back. He slept peacefully, his face pressed to her hair, his strong arms holding her securely.
Their baby girl would wake them both up in a couple of hours. Her breasts already felt full of milk, even if her nipples were pleasantly tender now from her husband’s lips instead of their daughter’s.
But as she fell into a deep sleep she knew she would dream of him holding her, loving her, fiercely and without regret. And—while she suspected that she and Rene would always butt heads, because they were both such strong-willed people—she made herself a solemn promise never to doubt him, or herself, or the strength and constancy of their love ever again.
* * * * *