Chapter 22
Courtney
His lips are gentle and sweet, brushing against mine like we have all the time in the world. I guess we do. Micah is safely asleep at the house. We’re alone on the beach.
And this has been a long time coming.
I tilt up my face as he presses light kisses along my lips, my cheeks, the line of my jaw. Daniil is the most sensual kisser, hands and mouth somehow working in tandem to bring multiple senses alive at once.
My skin tingles from his touch—one hand still on the side of my face, the other caressing my arm and shoulder.
The faint scent of his aftershave makes me want to press closer and breathe him in.
And his mouth. Jesus, I don’t know where he learned to kiss but it’s never sloppy or rushed.
Even in the midst of pounding away at me—and he’s really good at that too—he was able to kiss me like I’m the most desirable woman on the planet.
Part of me wonders how many women—and men—he’s made feel exactly like this but I’m enjoying myself far too much to go down any dark paths.
As his tongue breaches the seam of my lips, I meet it with interest. My body presses against his like it has a mind of its own, and he wraps his free arm around me while using the one that was cupping my cheek to dig into the hair at the back of my neck.
Damn, this feels good. Even better than I remember, which is saying something. Sex with Daniil was so satisfying I could still feel him for days after I left. No one else ever gave me that much pleasure.
I wind my arms around his neck, kissing him back like I’ve been starved without him.
Because I have. There haven’t been any men since the last time we were together—who wants to sleep with a pregnant woman?
Not that I wanted to sleep with anyone either, but it was just easier to stay alone. Focus on my child and survival.
And forgetting his father.
“Fuck, baby.” Daniil reluctantly pulls away. “If we keep this up, I’m going to take you right here.”
“Not unless there’s a condom in your pocket, you’re not,” I say softly. “I’m not protected, and another pregnancy isn’t on the table.”
“Noted.” He brushes my hair out of my eyes. “Is another pregnancy…eventually… on the table?”
“You mean would I want more kids?” I lift one shoulder hesitantly.
“I think maybe? I’m thirty-four so the time for that is limited.
I don’t want to be having a baby at forty.
I know lots of women do, but the risks increase exponentially after thirty-five and if it’s going to happen, I would prefer it to be sooner rather than later. ”
“So…a year from now?”
“What are you asking?” I ask in confusion.
“Simply whether or not you’d be open to having one or two more.”
“Two is probably a no. One is a definite possibility.”
“Was your pregnancy difficult?”
“You mean beyond the normal stuff like weight gain, stretch marks, and swollen feet? No. I felt pretty good up until about thirty-eight weeks. At that point I slowed down a lot, and Landon came and stayed with me until Micah was born. He was a godsend, really.”
“What about your parents?”
“Mom is gone, and we don’t speak to our father. He’s… not a nice man. Drinks too much, gambles, has had a string of wives and divorces in the last decade. We both stay away.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Life is very rarely a fairy tale.”
“That’s true. Losing our parents and older brother was devastating,” he says quietly. “To all of us.”
“I can’t even imagine,” I whisper, reaching out to touch his cheek. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. Were you away at university?”
He nods. “Elen too. I went straight to Paris to get her, and then we all secretly met up to come up with a plan. We knew our cousin Anwar would be looking for us. Mostly Erik, since he was next in line for the throne, but we were all scared. Angry. And the worst part was feeling helpless. Anwar planned everything so strategically, there was no way to prove what he’d done.
He killed his own parents in that attack, so he truly had no conscience. ”
“He’s dead now?”
He smiles, though it’s not a happy smile. “Oh, yeah.”
“Good.” I wrinkle my nose. “Terrible human being.”
“I don’t believe he was human. More like a direct descendant from the bowels of hell and the devil himself.”
I grimace. “That sounds about right.”
“Anyway, depressing talk on what’s been a beautiful day so far.”
“For sure. Shall we head back? Micah will probably wake up soon.”
“Sure. But I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Can I stay with you tonight, Courtney?”
The answer is simple even though the question itself isn’t.
So many reasons to say no.
Concerns that are still valid.
Pressure to make the right decision—both for myself and for my son.
But not now. Not today. I’m allowed these stolen moments of pleasure because I’ve had so few of them, both in life and since finding out I was pregnant. And that’s why I’m giving him the only possible answer.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He smiles and takes my hand again.
* * *
We spend the afternoon at the beach with Sandor, Lennox, and the kids.
Micah isn’t overly fond of the sand, but he adores the water.
Daniil holds him as tiny waves crash onto the shore, lifting him just before they hit and Micah squeals with laughter.
Watching them together fills my heart with love and despite the worry continuing to niggle at the edge of my psyche, I firmly push it away.
“Watching the men we love turn into daddies is pretty awesome, right?” Lennox asks, standing next to me as I take pictures.
“I’m not in love, but yes, watching the playboy prince become a daddy has been pretty cool.”
“You don’t feel anything for him at all?” she asks softly.
“I feel a million things for him, but the issues—the reasons I went into hiding in the first place—still exist. I know he wants to see if there’s more between us, and that’s a given. But it doesn’t negate the danger.”
“I live with that risk every day of my life,” Lennox points out. “But Sandor is worth it. I don’t know how I would survive without him—he’s the other half of me. It sounds like a romantic cliché but it’s true. I had no idea there was someone out there who could make my life so much better.”
I hesitate, because the things I want to ask her are horrible.
“Go ahead,” she says, a faint smile on her lips. “Ask whatever it was that made that line form between your brows.”
“If, God forbid, something happens to your children because they’re now princes… will you still love him? Will you forgive him for putting you and your children in danger?”
“Forgive him? For what? For a random act of violence he can’t control?
There are more mass shootings in the U.S.
than any other developed country. Columbine.
Sandy Hook…I could go on and on naming the disasters that took children’s lives while they were at school.
Micah won’t necessarily be safer in the U.S.
; he’ll just be less well-known. Instead of being the victim of a targeted attack, he could be an innocent bystander.
I don’t think that’s any better. Also, this is morbid as fuck. ”
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m just struggling.”
“You saw so much death and danger during your tours in the Middle East—what was different about the attack on the palace?”
“It was personal. What I did in Iraq and Afghanistan was war. You were in your home. And it wasn’t the first time you were home when the palace was attacked. The chances of me being the victim of not one but two home invasions is… I don’t even know the odds of that.”
“True, but we’re back to risk and reward. The rewards of having the love of my husband far outweighs the risks.”
“You’re pregnant again. With twins. If there’s an attack on the palace, who will Sandor protect? Erik or you?”
“Our children, obviously. You think we haven’t discussed this?
Things change. Erik knows that. Sandor would die to protect all of us—me, our children, his family.
Because in Sandor’s case, he’s not protecting a random royal family, he’s protecting his family.
Cousins, nieces and nephews… we’re a family. This is so much more than a job now.”
“So, you would let Casey die to protect your children?”
“If it was black and white like that, yes. And she’s okay with that.
She knows the risks as well. That’s also why I don’t protect her any longer.
Natalia is her personal bodyguard now because everyone understands the shift in priorities.
I would still die for our family, including Casey, Erik, and the kids, but my children always come first. We don’t live our lives worrying about that, though.
And the latest security protocols are intense.
Come to a few of our morning briefings—you’ll see how seriously we take our safety. ”
“I know you do.” I gaze over to where Daniil and Micah are laughing, splashing in the water. Sandor has a twin under each arm, pretending he’s going to throw them into the sea, and they shriek with laughter each time another wave comes.
To anyone watching the scene before us, they could be any other family. A regular family enjoying a day at the beach.
Maybe there is such a thing as a compromise in our situation.
I just haven’t figured out what it is yet.