Chapter 12
Tila walked back into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. With her eyes closed, she prayed that her nerves would calm down. If she kept jerking awake like this, she was going to have a heart attack at the ripe old age of twenty-nine.
She hurried into the shower and found extravagant toiletries that she’d only read about online. They were expensive and luxurious. After toweling off, she padded barefoot into the dressing room to find an enormous room with only a few outfits folded up on the central drawer system. There were hanging rods along three of the four walls and a floor to ceiling drawer system. But in the center was a counter with a polished wood top and more drawers underneath. On the counter was a stack of large, soft tunic-like sweaters and tops in rich fabrics she would never be able to afford. She chose a soft, green silk top and paired it with comfortable black leggings. The top buttoned up the front, so she could nurse her babies, and the soft material draped beautifully, hiding the soft bulge of her post-partum belly. She found a pair of ballet flats that perfectly matched the top and pulled them on, glorying in the comfortable soles. Boy, money really could buy happiness!
She didn’t bother with makeup or doing anything with her hair other than pulling it all into a band, piling it on top of her head. When she looked in the mirror, Tila was shocked at how much better she looked. There were still dark circles under her eyes, but five hours of sleep had alleviated her grey, sickly pallor. She looked, and felt, much better than she had in…far too long.
Food, she thought. Yes, she needed something to eat. And something to drink! Plus, she needed to nurse her babies. Her breasts were pretty full after a five and a half hour break from nursing. That was the longest she’d ever gone without nursing! It felt both glorious and painful.
When she opened the door this time, she found only Joran in the room with her sons on either side of him. They both seemed to be asleep. How was that possible? And unfortunately, that also meant that she would have to pump in order to alleviate the pressure in her breasts.
Again.
Darn it, she hated pumping! It was made even more embarrassing when she knew that Joran would figure out what she was doing. Was there anything less sexy than pumping breast milk?
Okay, there were probably thousands of situations that were less sexy. Giving birth probably topped the list. Being pregnant was pretty sexy during the middle months. Not so much when she’d been throwing up every five minutes during the first few months. And the last three months, she’d been as big as a whale. Nope, those months definitely hadn’t been sexy.
“What are you thinking?” his deep voice asked. “Actually, just a moment,” he corrected, then led her away from their sons so they wouldn’t wake them up.
Tila sighed as a shiver went down her spine, not surprised to discover that his voice still had power over her. He looked so amazingly handsome. She wanted to rush into his arms and beg him to…what? What did she want? The past several days had been so overwhelming, she wasn’t sure what she wanted anymore.
Except a tiny voice in the back of her mind yelled, “Him!” She wanted Joran.
“I need to…” she whispered, but wasn’t exactly sure what she needed to do. Her life had revolved around her sons for so long, so she turned to go check on them.
But an arm wrapped around her waist, stopping her.
“Tila,” he said, his deep voice close to her ear, “come with me. You need to understand how safe you and our sons are here.”
Tila pulled away and leaned her head back so she could see his eyes. “What?”
“Come with me.” He released her waist and took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers.
He done that so often in the past, but it felt different somehow now. She wasn’t quite sure why or how, but his touch hummed under her skin, and she wondered if he could make her glow just by holding her hand.
“What do you want to show me?” she asked again, wary now. All of the memories that she’d suppressed for so long rushed back with his touch.
“Eventually, you are going to have to learn to trust me, Tila,” he warned with a smile in his tone. He tugged at her hand gently. “This way.”
He led her to her sons, and there were two large men standing next to the bassinets.
“This is Jon and Sven,” Joran explained, gesturing to each man in turn. “They are the personal bodyguards for Laith and Rafi. They are the only two right now, but my guards have all volunteered to add extra hours until additional bodyguards can be hired and trained. It’s going to take a few months because guarding infants and children require different skills than guarding an adult.”
“Guards?”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, smiling faintly as she leaned into his side without noticing she did so. “Yes, Tila. They will be guarded twenty-four hours a day. They will never be left alone until they are older and can speak for themselves. Then other arrangements will be made.”
“But…why?”
“Because Prince Rafi and Prince Laith,” he paused, letting her grasp that she’d given birth to princes before he continued, “have the power to influence world events. If anything were to happen to them…,” he paused, clenching his jaw tightly for a moment. “Well, nothing will happen to them. I won’t allow it.”
Both guards stepped forward and bowed. “I will guard your babies with my life, Ms. Ayad. Nothing will happen to them on my watch.”
“Nor mine, Ms. Ayad,” the second guard agreed.
Tila eyed the guards for a moment. They weren’t as tall as Joran, but they looked like they had the muscles and experience to protect her babies from practically anything.
“Thank you,” she replied, not sure what the appropriate response was to someone who vowed that they would die to protect her sons. She didn’t want anyone to die, much less be hurt.
“Also,” Joran said, pulling her attention back to him, “I have hired two nannies already. I have six nannies that are waiting to be interviewed. You can hire all of them or none. They will work with you, at our direction. They will take care of our sons when we have work or official obligations, and will disappear when we want time alone with our children.”
“Nannies?” she parroted, unable to fathom the idea of having a nanny. This really was an entirely different world, she thought.
“Yes, multiple nannies. I’d suggest that we hire night and day nannies. In fact, we should hire enough nannies for three shifts, plus weekend shifts. It’s not fair to ask a person to work overtime consistently. Everyone needs a work-life balance.”
Tila couldn’t imagine being able to afford hiring three shifts of people to care for her children. She’d been doing it alone for the past two months. Eleven, if she counted the months she’d been pregnant.
“Surely we only need one,” she said to him. “I just need an extra set of hands.”
“You need at least three. One for every eight hour shift. And even two during the daylight hours.”
She scowled at him. “I can take care of my sons during the evenings when I’m not working, Joran.”
“You’d think so, right?” he asked, tucking her hand onto his elbow. “And yet, you’ve gotten maybe twenty hours of sleep a week, and I know I’m being generous there, since the babies were born.” He led her towards a table. “Am I right?”
It felt as if he were taking her children away from her. “I can handle it, Joran.”
He stopped and looked down at her, understanding blooming in his eyes. “Tila, do you think hiring a nanny means I don’t think you are a good mother?”
She tried to match his stare, but she felt her lower lip quiver. “Isn’t that what this is all about?”
“Not even slightly,” he told her, leaning in to look her in the eyes. “You have done an amazing job with our sons, Tila.” He kissed her and it was such a surprise, she didn’t have time to pull away. “You’ve done more than most mothers could have done. Our boys are healthy, happy, and thriving. All because of you.”
She thought so, but then why was he so adamant about hiring extra help?
“Here’s the thing, love,” he continued, guiding her over to the table. He paused to pull out a chair for her, then waited until she was seated before he sat down opposite her, “you’ve had to do it all on your own for two months. Longer, actually. I don’t discount having to get through a pregnancy alone and I wish you’d let me know that you were pregnant. I never would have left you alone all this time.”
“I did!” she asserted firmly, irritated that he didn’t believe her.
His dark eyes darkened for a moment, but then his gaze cleared. “Suffice it to say, I didn’t get the messages.”
“That’s not because I didn’t send them,” she insisted, refusing to back down. She could hear the disbelief in his tone and refused to stand for that. “Get me my phone, Joran. I’ll show you the messages I sent to you. I’ll show you every message I sent, pleading with you to acknowledge my messages.”
He stared at her for a long moment. Tila glared right back at him, and he lifted a hand. Immediately, a guard appeared by the table.
“Talk to Gino,” Joran commanded. “Tell him to check the text messages and phone calls from Ms. Ayed’s phone. I want to know where the messages she sent to me went.”
The man nodded in acknowledgement, then stepped back and slipped from the room.
“Wow!” she whispered, watching the door where the man had disappeared. “Can you do that with anyone in the palace?’
“You can too,” he told her, then nodded towards someone behind her. A moment later, a servant arrived with a platter. He set it down in the middle of the table, then lifted the dome and walked away.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked.
“I can’t have wine or beer,” she told him as another waiter started forward with a bottle of wine.
Immediately, Joran waved the servant away. “Will water suffice?”
“You can have wine, Joran. I just can’t because I’m nursing.”
He’d started to serve himself some of the creamy looking chicken and rice dish in front of them, but paused, his hand frozen with the serving spoon halted. “Tila, you’ve sacrificed everything over the past months. I can do without wine until you are able to enjoy it with me.”
Tila didn’t have a response to that, but she felt something warm and fuzzy low in her belly. Lowering her lashes, she stared at her empty plate. A moment later, Joran put a heaping portion of the chicken and rice with a creamy curry sauce on the plate. She was startled by the amount and laughed. She actually laughed for the first time in months.
“I can’t eat all this,” she protested.
“Try,” he ordered and piled twice that amount onto his plate. “You need some proper nutrition.”
“I need to lose weight,” she grumbled, picking up her fork.
“You do not need to lose weight,” he told her firmly. “You need to heal after your pregnancy. And since you are nursing, you need as much nutrition as possible.”
She tried to ignore the warmth she felt at his words, but it was nearly impossible. She’d felt so discouraged about her inability to lose the post-pregnancy weight. So the glow of…happiness? Appreciation? Whatever, was intense and she was gratified.
When she took the first bite, she closed her eyes, amazed at the burst of flavors. “Oh, this is delicious!” she sighed.
“You haven’t had creative foods for a while, have you?”
She shrugged. “I used to love to cook, but now…I haven’t had time.”
“You haven’t had time for anything, I’m guessing. They are a handful.” He looked over to where they continued to sleep peacefully in their small bassinets.
“How long have they been asleep?’ she asked, stuffing another bite into her mouth. She wanted to eat as much as she could before they woke up. She knew from experience that there wouldn’t be much time once they were awake and demanding attention.
“They fell asleep right before you stepped out.”
For the next thirty minutes, they chatted about the boys’ schedule, foods she wanted to try and cook, his role in the Lativa government, and anything other than what might happen next. It was nice, and terrifying, Tila thought. What was going to happen now? How was she going to get through the next five minutes? Five hours? Five days?!