Chapter 1
"Twins?" Kiara divided a stunned look between the doctor and the man standing next to the examination table.
"Twins?" She repeated. "How? I don't... I'm an only child and so were my parents.
" She searched frantically through her head to see if she could remember anyone saying there were twins in her very small family and came up blank.
"Ah, there's someone in my family." Oscar ran the tip of his tongue over his teeth. "My maternal grandfather Roger Sweeney. Had a twin who died as an infant."
Her gaze swung to the man holding her hand. It was hard to believe that it had been one year since she walked into one of his pubs and started something. Oh, she had fought valiantly to stop the instant attraction that had taken on a life of its own. Now she was pregnant. With twins.
"You didn't think to share that piece of information with me?"
Her precise diction always fascinated him. From the first time she walked into his pub, he had been poleaxed. Almost brought to his knees. He had spent close to three months trying to convince her that they belonged together.
"Baby..."
"Don't baby me." She snapped, trying desperately to curb the fear. They had arguments about getting married and she had finally committed to living together.
He winced as her fingers dug into his, pressing against his bones.
"I'm pregnant. With two babies inside me.
" She heaved out a breath and could just imagine what her dear mother was going to say.
She had not warmed to Oscar, not one bit.
It did not matter that he was loaded and handsome and charming.
There had been one dire prediction after the other.
"He was going to move on to the next willing woman. He was too pretty and has a wildness about him." There had been others.
"I can't be carrying two babies." She aimed those lethal mahogany brown eyes on the hapless doctor standing at the foot of the table. "Are you sure?"
The woman glanced at Oscar, who gave a helpless shrug. Dr. Jane Greene was a family friend.
"It's right there on the monitor." She pointed to the screen. "Two heartbeats."
"I can't." Kiara shifted her head to send an accusing glare to Oscar. "I just can't."
"Baby, I'm right here. I'll be right here with you..."
"Will you be carrying one of these babies?"
He shifted and stared at her helplessly. "You know if that's possible, I would..."
"Will you share the awful sickness in the pit of my stomach, which has been getting worse by the way. And what about the thick ankles and the damn need to pee all the time? Oh, shall I mention the mood swings?"
"Hormones." He supplied helpfully and wished he had kept his damn mouth shut.
"I'll, ah, leave you to discuss this. I'll be in my office." The doctor retreated hastily, closing the door behind her.
Pulling up a stool on castors, he sat and lifted her hand to his lips. "I love you." His quiet voice with the slight Irish lilt had the desired effect. And the words weakened her.
"Damn you."
Leaning over, he rubbed his lips on hers and felt her breath against his mouth. The reaction was quick and instant. He wasn't sure how it happened, but he had never felt this way about another woman before. He had been badgering her to marry him, to at least live full time with him.
He hated the back and forth and the fact that she only travels with him every now and again. He was in charge of more than two hundred pubs and hotels and inns all over the world and that required traveling to different areas.
He wanted his ring on her finger and her in his bed every damn night.
But figured now was not the time to bombard her with another angry and frustrated argument.
"I'm scared." She whispered, eyes huge. He was the only one she would admit something like that to. She was strong and resilient, had to be considering where she was coming from. Her mother was a thorn in her side and there was nothing he could do about it.
He hated that it takes slices out of her whenever they have a confrontation and lately it had been every week.
"You know my history. I'm not like you and your sister.
Your parents are great. My mother... I told you all of this from the beginning.
" She was using anger to cover fear. "I'm a lousy bet.
I can't guarantee that I'll be a good mother.
And two kids?" Her hand tightened in his. "Oscar..."
"Stop this." His voice was firm. "I will not have you stressing over nonsense.
You're not your bloody mother and you know it.
" His voice softened, winter green eyes bright with emotions.
"We can do this." He linked his fingers through hers.
"We're a team. I'm here for you always, you know that. I've proven myself to you repeatedly."
"I'm such a mess." She shook her head and tried to get her mother's voice out of her mind. Then her eyes became sabers that pinned him. "If you're not there..."
"Always."
"I'll hunt you down with my big belly and swollen ankles and cut off your prized possession."
"You're my prized possession." He remarked gamely, grinning when she glared at him.
"Don't think I haven't seen that blonde bitch sniffing around."
He shook his head hastily. "She's just a friend."
"Who was a lover."
"A long time ago." He sighed softly as she continued to stare holes into him. "I have eyes only for you."
"And a reputation of being a lady's man."
"Can't help it if they admire the package." He yelped when her fingers bit into his flesh.
"I don't share and now I'm carrying your babies inside me, I'm getting really possessive. Got it?"
"Loud and clear." He released his breath. "Is it weird that I find your orneriness so bloody sexy?" Bending, he kissed her again. "Is it time to tell everyone? My parents are going to be out of their minds with joy."
"I suppose." She was trying to drum up the enthusiasm that was supposed to come with the news and could not quite manage it. She was scared down to the bone. They had discussed loosely of children, but she had wanted to wait.
"Look at me."
Lifting her lashes, she did just that and felt the familiar thudding of her heart at the look of him.
His hair needed trimming as usual. There were strands tumbling over his forehead.
His dreamy poetic face always gives her a jolt.
And when she considered what he could do with those lips of his, she went weak.
"I love you." He cupped her face between his palms. "Let that be enough for now."
"How far along?" Maeve O'Sullivan was a woman in her early sixties but carried her age very well.
Her dense black hair had streaks of gray that made her look all the more distinguished.
She had passed the eyes and hair to her two children.
She and her husband were originally from Ireland but had migrated to the states before their children were born.
Her husband, a tall, gangly looking man with a genial expression on his narrow face adored her. The first time Kiara saw them together, she had felt an instant love and envy. But they had both opened their hearts to the woman who had captured their son's heart.
"Seven weeks." Rising, Kiara wandered around the edge of the pool restlessly. The men had left them alone to talk. The summer was just beginning, the flowers blossoming. They were at Oscar's sprawling ranch style home where she spent most of her nights and several days.
Maeve watched the petite woman with the bundle of energy and a frown on her brow.
"Are you feeling poorly?" The concern was evident in the soft lilting voice that always reminded Kiara of church bells.
"Every single morning." She rubbed her stomach where the eggs she had tried to eat were settled. "Your son keeps apologizing. Unfortunately for him, I don't believe a word of it." She sat back down, leaning back on the pillows Oscar had conscientiously brought out for her.
The man was being very accommodating, but then he always was. Being with him had opened her eyes in so many ways. She never had someone treat her this way before. He loved expansively, thoroughly and without equivocation. She did not have that openness about her for obvious reasons.
She knew he was frustrated that she refused to commit to him fully, but she needed time.
"Honey, you've made us so happy. You should hear Oscar over the phone. He was bubbling up with joy."
"He wouldn't be if he was the one carrying two human beings inside him." She muttered, lifting her face to the sun.
"What about you? How do you feel about being pregnant?"
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug and weighed her words.
She liked the woman very much and after a few months had come to accept that they approved of her.
As well as accepting that they were as open as their son with their affections and the need to embrace all the damn time. It takes some getting used to.
"Still processing." Turning her head, she smiled at Maeve. "I just have to get used to it."
"What about your tours?" Maeve reached for the jug of lemonade the maid had brought out for them and poured. Her son was not willing to ask these questions, so she would do it for him. "Still going?"
In the last year, she had written another stunning bestseller. Her fascination with the past had paid off. Her research was thorough and details graphic. The love scenes were poignant and not always with a happy ending.
There was a haunting quality to her writing that engages the reader. She now had four books that had been turned into movies and were getting rave reviews. It still amazes her that it was not only Oscar who was recognized when they go out, but her as well.
She even had mails from eager fans, some of them slightly disturbing. Aside from her ever faithful agent and best friend, she had a secretary. Her accounts had been taken over by the overworked and very precise Matthew O'Malley, Oscar's business manager.