His Majesty's Mistake
Page 70
Emmeline closed her eyes, lips parting as he kissed the side of her neck, her collarbone and lower, on her breast. “You’d better stop, Makin. I won’t be able to talk pretty soon.”
“Good. We’ve talked enough for tonight.”
“But there are things I have to say—”
“You don’t.”
“I do. I need you to forgive me for saying hurtful things and pushing you away—”
“I already have.” He tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. “I love you.”
“You should hate me for hurting you, for saying unkind things.”
The edge of his mouth lifted. “I can’t hate you. I could never hate you. You were scared. I know that.”
“It’s that easy? No grudges? No simmering anger? No lingering resentment?”
He laughed softly, pulling her onto his chest, and kissed her again. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re my wife—”
“Even if it’s by default?”
He laughed again and kissed her slowly. “Not by default. This is fate, my darling. You were made for me.”
“Even with all my flaws and faults?”
“You’re not flawed. You’re just you, and real, and perfect for me.”
“I love you, Makin.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
He nodded, kissed her gently, and then again, this time deepening the kiss so that his tongue teased hers, tasting her. “Yes.”
“How?”
“Because you can’t contain your feelings—”
“I knew it!”
He laughed softly and kissed her again. “And that’s a good thing, Emmeline. I need your warmth and your energy and your passion for life. I’ve spent these past fourteen years pouring myself into my work but I’m ready to have more … I want and need more. I want and need you.”
“Why? Why me?”
“I have no idea, but no one has mattered to me here,” he said, pausing to touch his chest, just over his heart, “until I entered Mynt and saw you there in that tight little turquoise dress. And I came alive. For you.”
“You really, truly do love me!”
“I really, truly do. And we’re good together. We’re meant to be together.”
“How can you be so sure? We’ve only been together a week.”
“My father knew my mother just days before he married her. They had twenty wonderful years together.”
She exhaled carefully, her heart so full it ached. “I would love to have twenty wonderful years with you.”
“Not me. I want at least forty.”
She had to blink back the hot rush of tears. “That does sound better.”
“At least forty,” he repeated. “We can watch our children grow, marry and have children. How does that sound?”
“Like the very best happily-ever-after ending I’ve ever heard!”
EPILOGUE
Seven months later
IT WAS a bright winter morning in Nadir, at the city’s best hospital in the wing reserved for the Al-Koury royal family. It had been a long night for those in the labor and delivery room, though, and Emmeline had been grateful for her husband’s and sister’s support.
Nineteen hours of contractions had left Emmeline exhausted and the pain was just getting worse.
Gripping Hannah’s hand tightly, Emmeline cried out as the latest contraction gripped her belly. The contractions were right on top of each other now with no rest time anymore. “Hurts,” she choked, perspiration beading her brow, body trembling uncontrollably.
“You’re almost there,” the nurse said soothingly.
Emmeline shook her head. “Really hurts.”
Makin glared at the nurse. “Give her something for the pain, now!”
“Too late,” the nurse answered crisply, stepping around the sheikh and checking the monitor that tracked Emmeline’s and the baby’s heart rates. Both were doing just fine.
“What do you mean, too late?”
The nurse stepped around Makin again. “The baby is crowning. He or she is here.”
But Makin was beside himself. “And where the hell is the doctor?”
“On his way. But your little one is impatient to see the world and has decided not to wait.” The nurse gave Emmeline a calm, encouraging smile. “Your Highness, on the next contraction you are going to take a deep breath and push—”
“Without giving her something for the pain?” Makin demanded.
“No, Makin, she can’t,” Hannah snapped at him from the opposite side of the bed, exasperated by his bellowing and the only one in any condition to tell him to pull himself together. “You insisted on being in here,” she added tartly, pointing to the door, “but you’re not helping Emmeline when you roar like that. So help her, or go.”