Epilogue
ACACIA STOOD AT THE railing of the yacht, the warm summer breeze caressing her face as she watched her six-month-old daughter being passed from one adoring arm to another. Azalea's peals of laughter carried across the deck, making Acacia's heart swell with a joy so profound it left her breathless.
"She's a beautiful girl," Joan Nelson said, coming to stand beside her. "I'm honored to be her godmother."
The upper deck of the grand yacht had been transformed for the occasion, decorated with soft pink and white azaleas—a tribute to her daughter's name. Today was Azalea's dedication day, and Acacia couldn't have imagined a more perfect celebration.
Guilt pricked at Acacia's heart as she observed the love in the older woman's eyes. Joan had been nothing but kind to her, even after the messy breakup with Claude. She opened her mouth, thinking that she should tell Joan that Azalea was actually her great-granddaughter, but before she could say a word, Joan suddenly asked in a casual tone, "Have you heard? I've updated my will."
"Oh?" Acacia's hands tightened on the railing.
"Azalea shall be a part of it, but let that be our little secret."
Acacia's eyes widened. Did this mean—-
"Old age does not make one an imbecile," Joan said with a sniff. "I admit that it took a while for me to realize there was more to your breakup with Claude, but by the time I found out, you were gone, and I was not able to protect you."
Acacia quickly gave Joan's hand a squeeze at the regret in the older woman's voice. "You have nothing to regret, Joan. Everything happened the way God meant it to happen. God wanted me in Hartland. And now..." Her eyes brightened with tears. "God also answered one of my prayers." Her voice broke. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you the truth the first time. I didn't want you to force Claude to marry me—"
"And you were right to think that, too," the older woman acknowledged with a heavy sigh. "It was exactly what I would have done. I'm trying, Acacia. But I am still blind to some of his faults. Even so, the moment I saw you and Ronan together, it was clear to me that the two of you were meant to be together." She patted Acacia's hand. "And one day, your parents will see it, too."
"I'm praying for that, too," Acacia said softly as she remembered the looks on her parents' faces when she visited them with Azalea and Ronan. They hadn't even looked at her baby girl, and they had barely been civil to Ronan, whom they thought was a step down from Claude since they only saw him as an "ordinary" doctor while Claude stood to inherit millions.
Since then, she had not seen her parents again, with her mother stiffly making it clear that they would not welcome any other unscheduled visit. Acacia loved them still, forgave them for hurting her, and because she knew she had also hurt them with her pregnancy, she had asked for their forgiveness.
Beyond that, she was at peace.
Some things, one could only pray for and wait.
ON THE TOPMOST DECK , Ronan stood with their hosts, taking in the magnificent view of the ocean stretching endlessly before them. The luxury yacht was a floating paradise, with polished teakwood decks and gleaming chrome railings catching the golden rays of the setting sun.
"Thank you for this," Ronan said, gesturing to the elaborate setup surrounding them. "Azalea's dedication day wouldn't have been nearly as perfect without your help."
"Do not make the mistake of thinking that just by saying 'thank you' I am letting you use my yacht for free," Damen Leventis mocked. "I am still charging you for it. We both know you can afford the fee—"
Mairi couldn't believe what she was hearing from her Greek billionaire husband. "Don't be so—-"
"—which, would then be directly donated to my wife's favorite charity," Damen finished smoothly.
"—-marvelous," Mairi ended instead without missing a beat, but she knew it was still too late when she saw the two men exchanging smirks.
"Was that really what you intended to say?" her husband asked silkily, his dark eyes glittering with amusement.
Not wanting to lie but not wanting to admit the truth either, Mairi looked around for a distraction and found it. "Oh, look, Claude's finally here—" She broke off upon seeing the glint in Ronan's amber eyes.
Oh no.
"Excuse me for a moment," Ronan said calmly.
Mairi looked at Damen worriedly as the other man disappeared from view. "I thought everything was okay with them."
"It depends on how you define okay," her husband murmured, his arm sliding possessively around her waist.
" Um ..." The last she heard, Claude had been reinstated in his grandmother's will, but his monthly allowance had been greatly reduced, and it was probably why he had signed away his rights to fatherhood for a hefty sum.
"Legally speaking, it's all good, right?"
"It is."
"There's a but, isn't there?"
"But the boy has more ego than sense, unfortunately. He has been texting Ronan's wife nonstop, convinced that she's still in love with him and doing this out of spite. And so what you see unfolding right now is Ronan about to prove him wrong..."
Their vantage point from the uppermost deck allowed Mairi to see Claude's face darkening when he glimpsed Ronan pulling his wife into one of the staterooms.
"Please don't tell me there's going to be a fight," she said worriedly.
Damen's eyes glinted. "It will not be necessary. Claude only has to hear the truth to know he will never win this war."
"Listen?" Mairi frowned in confusion. "Listen to what?"
She turned towards the room again, wondering what Ronan and his wife could possibly... oh .
Damen's lips curved at the way his wife blushed. All these years, and she remained incurably na?ve.
Mairi turned to Damen, and that was when she saw the smoldering look of heat in his gaze. Uh...oh. She only managed to take one step, but then he was whirling her into his arms—
"Don't you think we should also prove to everyone we are still passionately in love?"
"Um, not—"
He cut her off with a kiss, his tongue driving inside her mouth, and um, what was she saying no to again?
ACACIA GASPED AS RONAN suddenly took her hand, his amber eyes dark with intent as he pulled her through the corridor and into one of the staterooms. The door closed behind them with a soft click, and he immediately pressed her against it, his powerful frame caging her in.
"W-What's wrong?" she whispered, searching his face. His jaw was tense, his eyes feverishly bright.
"You asked what I wanted as my wedding gift," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.
"I...I did." She had a hard time concentrating, with him already working on the buttons of her dress, his fingers deftly exposing her skin to the cool air. Heat pooled low in her belly at the hungry look in his eyes.
The yacht rocked gently beneath them, the distant sounds of celebration a stark contrast to the building tension in the luxurious stateroom. Sunlight streamed through the porthole, turning his skin to burnished gold as he shed his own jacket and tie.
He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered his desire, the words making her face flame even as a thrill of excitement raced through her veins.
At the very same moment, he claimed her body, joining them as one, and all she could do was moan at the combined heat of his demand and his possession.
Her face burned at what he was asking of her, but since she had promised to give him whatever he wanted...
Her husband's movements grew more urgent, more demanding, and she surrendered to the tide of sensations washing over her. Lost in the moment, not knowing that her ex-boyfriend stood outside, able to hear everything, Acacia began to cry out.
"Please," she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders, "take me harder. I love how big you are. I love how you fill me. Please. More."
Her voice rose as the pleasure intensified, words tumbling unbidden from Acacia's lips.
"I've never felt anything like this before. You're so much bigger... so much thicker... I never knew it could feel this good."
Each proclamation seemed to spur Ronan on, his powerful body moving in perfect rhythm with hers.
"Only you," she cried out, no longer caring who might hear. "It's only ever been good with you..."
Outside the stateroom, Claude stood frozen, his face draining of color as Acacia's passionate declarations echoed through the thin door. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but her words were impossible to miss—especially the part about size comparisons that was not exactly a glowing recommendation on his part.
Claude became acutely aware of the sudden silence around him. Turning slowly, he found several guests had paused their conversations, champagne glasses suspended midair as they stared in his direction.
Heat crawled up his neck as he realized everyone knew exactly who was in that room—and more importantly, who had been found lacking.
Fuck!
He stalked off, intending to leave this stupid party as fast as he could. But because news had wings - and especially one as juicy as this - everyone he walked past had the same look on their faces.
Claude couldn't help trying to defend himself. "She's a l-liar—-"
But the other guests only looked at him in pity, and he realized soon enough that no one on this stupid boat was on his side.
With each step toward the yacht's exit, Claude's humiliation compounded. A group of women stopped their conversation to stare as he passed, their eyes dropping pointedly to his crotch before they dissolved into giggles. A waiter offered him a tray of hors d'oeuvres – tiny, bite-sized canapés – with a smile that was just a touch too knowing.
By the time he reached the lower deck, where departing guests queued to board the speedboats back to shore, Claude's designer shirt was plastered to his back with sweat despite the cool ocean breeze.
"I need to leave. Now," he snapped at the uniformed attendant managing the departures.
The young man looked up from his clipboard, recognition flickering in his eyes. Claude could practically see the exact moment when the rumors reached him – the slight widening of his eyes, the twitch at the corner of his mouth.
"Of course, sir," the attendant replied, his voice professionally smooth but unable to hide the amusement dancing in his eyes. "However, I'm afraid all the speedboats are currently occupied."
Claude's jaw clenched. "Then call another one."
"That would take at least thirty minutes, sir."
"Fine," Claude bit out. "Whatever. Just get me off this damn boat."
The attendant consulted his clipboard again, then looked up with a polite smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "All sailboats have been taken, sir. But Mr. Leventis says we could loan you use of one of the jetskis." His gaze swept down Claude's frame before adding, "It should be something you're used to because it's something... smaller?"
The queue behind Claude erupted in poorly disguised snorts and chuckles. Someone at the back called out, "Perfect fit, I'd say!"
ACACIA LAY ON TOP OF her husband, her body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. Somehow, they had made it to the bed, though she couldn't quite remember how. The silk sheets felt cool against her heated skin, a stark contrast to the burning heat of Ronan's body beneath hers.
Her heart raced as she tried to catch her breath, still overwhelmed by the intensity of their lovemaking.
For so many years she had imagined herself in love with Claude, only to have him destroy her innocence. The moment he had turned his back on her and their then-unborn child, it was as if she had her childhood blinders removed. She had finally seen Claude for who he truly was, a boy who refused to grow up because he only loved himself and no one else.
He was, in other words, the opposite of her husband.
The mere thought of Ronan had her toes curling hard and Acacia biting back a sigh. Every day with him just made her love him more and more. The way he pampered her with spontaneous weekend getaways to private islands, the custom-built nursery that rivaled royal quarters, and how he'd casually ordered an entire boutique closed for her private shopping spree when nothing fit her post-pregnancy body.
And then there was his "day job" as a doctor, which had led to more than one breathless examination on his office desk after hours, those capable hands knowing exactly how to make her body respond.
She loved him so much, truly. She couldn't thank God enough for being so good to her, and for choosing Ronan to be her husband. Life was beyond anything she imagined, but...
Ronan could sense something troubling his wife as he felt her body gradually becoming tense, and it was not difficult at all to guess what was bothering her.
"Acacia..."
He rolled his wife to her back so he could gaze into her eyes. "Ask me what you want," he said simply.
Acacia's chest tightened. She was so tempted to pretend, but since she also knew it was foolish to hide from the truth forever...
"Tell me about her," his wife finally whispered.
And so he did.
Acacia bit her lip hard as she listened to Ronan explain how his relationship with Lena was nothing but a product of teenage hormones, and how later on, the pain of their breakup had largely stemmed from his injured pride.
"For years, I built her up in my mind into something she never was. The perfect first love. The one who got away."
Acacia found herself digging her fingers into her palms.
"But now," her husband continued, his fingers tilting her chin up until she had no choice but to meet his gaze, "when I look at you, it almost feels like I've lost my mind. Because I see nothing of Lena in you at all."
Her head jerked up at this, eyes widening in disbelief. She was about to tell him not to lie, because even she herself could see the similarities. But the raw honesty in his amber eyes stopped the words in her throat. There was no deception there, no careful calculation—only pure, unbridled truth.
"It's not that she came first, and you're her replacement. If anything, Lena was nothing but a foreshadowing of what was real. What would last. What's from God. And that's you."
His hands framed her face, thumbs brushing away tears she hadn't realized she'd shed. "When I watch you with Azalea, when I see your kindness to Joan, when I feel your forgiveness for your parents—that's when I know you're nothing like her. You love deeply. You forgive completely. You're real in ways she never could be."
Acacia's heart felt as if it was about to explode. There were so many things she wished she could say, but since she would never be as charming or eloquent as her husband when it came to matters of the heart...
Ronan raised a brow when his wife wriggled out from under him. He rolled to his back, thinking she would climb back up on him, but instead, she positioned herself between his legs, and...
"Acacia."
He could only bite her name out as she suddenly took him with her mouth.
His fingers gripped her hair as he fought to make it last and retain his sanity. But the harder she sucked, the harder it was to hold on, and the harsh sound of his breathing soon filled the room.
The taste and feel of him inside of her mouth were intoxicating, and when she remembered what he said, remembered how he had pursued her tirelessly from the very start—-
Acacia's eyes lifted up to his, and in that moment of perfect connection, she let her soul speak what her lips couldn't.
I love you, Ronan.
Her husband's powerful body jerked, his amber eyes finding hers just before pleasure took over.
I love you, Acacia.
The End
Thank you for reading The Rancher's Pregnancy Surprise.