by Karin Baine
A smile slowly crept over his face until he was positively beaming. ‘You’ve never said that before.’
‘What? That I love you? I think I was afraid to say it out loud and acknowledge those feelings myself. Now I’ve said it out loud, I can’t take it back.’ She gave a little laugh, still nervous about entering into another serious relationship, especially when there were going to be two more wee people affected by her every future decision, but leaping into the unknown with Cal was preferable to a lonely life without him.
‘No, you can’t, and I for one will never get sick of hearing you say it. Along with that “our family”, thing you casually tossed in there. You don’t know how happy that makes me, knowing that I’m going to be part of this.’ He rested his hand on her bump and she couldn’t imagine anyone else she would rather spend the rest of her life with, raising these precious babies. It was important he knew that because she didn’t intend wasting any more of her life regretting things she did or didn’t say.
‘You’re very much part of this, daddy Cal, and once we know for sure these two are going to behave and stay where they are until we’re ready for them, I want to make it official. Calum Armstrong, will you marry us?’ She hadn’t known she was going to ask him until the words came out of her mouth, but it felt so right for all of them to make this relationship as solid as possible.
It was the first time she’d ever seen him lost for words as his jaw flopped open and shut without him making a sound. If he hadn’t looked so utterly thrilled by the proposal she would’ve worried he was searching for the words to let her down gently.
‘Is that a yes?’
‘That’s a yes to being your husband, yes to being daddy Cal and yes to spending every day of the rest of my life with you. On one condition.’ His forehead crinkled and turned his handsome face serious again.
Izzy swallowed, concerned that he might impose some impossible demands, but had to trust that belief she had in him that he would never do anything to hurt her.
‘Name it,’ she said, feigning a bravery she would need to see her through the next months.
‘You get some rest.’ He kissed her all too fleetingly on the lips.
Now, that she could do. She snuggled down into the bed, exhaustion washing over her in waves now she’d laid herself bare emotionally, but knowing Cal was sticking with her gave her enough comfort to give in to slumber.
‘Where will you be when I wake up?’ she mumbled, refusing to let go of his hand as she drifted off to sleep.
‘Where I belong. Right here beside you.’
She smiled with the soft pressure of his lips against her cheek and knew everything would turn out fine when she woke up because now she had a future with Cal to look forward to. This family of convenience had become one she was going to cherish for ever.
EPILOGUE
‘I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU husband and wife.’
The registrar legally confirmed their commitment to one another, although Cal and Izzy had done that almost a year ago in the hospital.
‘I can kiss the bride now, right?’
As if he would’ve let anyone stop him. Izzy would never tire of letting him either. Being able to kiss Cal any time she pleased was one of the many good things to come her way.
The registrar nodded her approval as Cal dipped his new bride back for a true Hollywood-romance-style kiss, which still had the ability to make Izzy spend the rest of the day walking around in a daze.
A chorus of whoops and cheers rang out from the congregated guests as they finally made their relationship official. They had planned an altogether different wedding from the one currently taking place, but seeing the sea of smiling faces cheering them down the aisle, Izzy was grateful at how things had turned out.
Originally, she’d envisaged a quick, quiet ceremony with no fuss so the twins would be born into a stable relationship but, as Cal had pointed out, they were going to have that regardless of a piece of paper. They’d also decided they didn’t need the extra stress of wedding preparations when she already had an increased risk of going into premature labour.
She’d been true to her word and stuck to complete bed rest and Cal had gone above and beyond the duties of a loving partner and father-to-be. He’d taken time off work to play nursemaid as well as crawl into bed to watch movies with her and cook every meal for her to make sure she didn’t die of boredom or malnutrition in the run-up to the birth.
That time together had been precious for them as a couple, getting to know each other again minus their baggage. She believed it was a major contributing factor to the babies hanging on until her thirty-fourth week. The amniotic sac had resealed itself after that terrifying episode and, although a little on the small side, their girls had been born healthy and able to come home after just a few days. Then the fun had really started, and those quiet moments together had become few and far between. There was never a dull moment in the Armstrong household now and she was thankful for it.
The extra time since the birth and announcing their intention to get married had given them a chance to share their special day with the important people in their lives. Mac and the guys from work were here to celebrate with them and Cal’s sisters had travelled with their families to be with them. Perhaps it wasn’t too late for any of them to be a real family.
‘I love you, Mrs Armstrong, but I hate to break it to you: I’m leaving you for the other two special girls in my life.’ Cal stopped halfway down the aisle and let go of her hand to reach for the beauties who’d caught his eye on the way past.
‘Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted.’ Izzy knew she could never compare to the other important people in this marriage but for once she was happy to come second in Cal’s affections when she was equally enamoured with their daughters.
‘Come here, Nelly Belly.’ Cal reached for the cute bundle trying to wriggle out of Helen’s arms to reach her daddy and Izzy did the same with Nell’s sister, Rae. She had her best friend and her husband to thank for the twins’ still pristine flower girl outfits as they’d juggled the childcare duties during the ceremony. But neither she nor Cal would be parted from them for longer than necessary. They’d named the girls after Cal’s parents, Ray and Eleanor, and Cal was the most devoted father anyone could ever wish for. These girls would be as spoiled and happy as she was with him in their lives.
‘Well, husband, I think it’s time this family really got the party started. Everyone back to our place for champagne and cake.’ Their home was their favourite place in the world and the natural choice for a venue in which to celebrate their big day with friends and family. On this occasion Cal had delegated the cooking to caterers so he could spend as much quality time with her and the girls as possible.
Izzy’s heart was so full of love for this man she knew it wouldn’t be long before the Armstrong family would be growing again...
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Karin Baine
The Single Dad’s Proposal
Midwife Under the Mistletoe
From Fling to Wedding Ring
Their Mistletoe Baby
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Surgeon Prince, Cinderella Bride by Ann McIntosh.
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Surgeon Prince, Cinderella Bride
by Ann McIntosh
PROLOGUE
1988
IT WAS AS though Yasmine floated just ever so slightly outside her skin, so the sounds and smells of the maternity ward were muffled by the disconnect between flesh and spirit. Even the sensations of her body, the gritty pain each time she blinked her closed lids, the movement of the baby, the interminable heat, were distant things.
The observation ward wasn’t full. Just her and one other lady, who was also alone. Neither of them spoke, although the curtain between their beds had been left open.
She let herself drift, leaving the agonizing present to go back in time to the night she’d lain in her husband’s arms, and joy had been their only companion.
The night she’d told him she was finally, miraculously, pregnant.
Brian had been ecstatic, had shifted down in the bed so his face rested next to her belly.
“My child,” he’d said. “My son or daughter. Prince or princess.”
Her heart had leapt at his words.
For thirty years he’d held fast to the rule: no one must ever know who they were. What he was. Not one lax moment was to be tolerated. Yet here he was, saying it out loud. It had given her a chill, and involuntarily her gaze shifted to the closed door of their room, as though expecting people to burst through to tear them apart.
She’d had to stop herself from asking him not to say such things again, reassured herself he was using it in the North American way, as an endearment toward a child so longed for, it would be treated like royalty.
And Brian had longed for this child. His disappointment as the years passed and Yasmine didn’t conceive was as acute as her own. Yet he never placed blame. Never suggested he should seek another woman who could give him an heir. Indeed, this baby would be heir to very little. Their need to keep a low profile had taken them to Fort McMurray, Alberta, Canada, where they’d remained.
When asked where they were from, Brian always said, “Just outside Bombay,” because it was a city he’d once known well, and could make intelligent conversation about. They both had diverse ethnic backgrounds, including Indian ancestors, but in her opinion neither really looked as though they came from India. However, the Canadians they came in contact with didn’t seem to notice.
Sometimes, as ethnic diversity stretched north, they got skeptical looks, but although Brian had thrown off all the trappings of royalty, he’d lost none of the confidence seemingly bred into his bones.
No one really pressed him about it.
Yasmine had simply kept her mouth shut most of the time, not completely trusting herself to maintain the fiction, should she get too close to anyone. She’d been homesick and heartsick for a lot of those years, secretly regretting not being able to go to university, having to work low-paying jobs, but having Brian made up for it all.
Now he was gone, and Yasmine couldn’t find a way back into her body to mourn, or even to be angry.
Four months before, his strange symptoms had started—arm pain, moments of disorientation and lack of balance, among others. He’d made light of it all, so Yasmine had never realized the seriousness of it until he’d collapsed with a seizure at the rail yard and had been taken to the hospital. After tests and scans he’d been transferred to Edmonton, where he’d had more of both. Then the oncologist had been glaringly blunt, although Yasmine thought the sympathetic glint in his eyes somewhat negated his directness.
“It’s stage four colon cancer, which has already metastasized to your liver, lungs and brain. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do, other than arrange pain management and hospice care for you going forward.”
For the first time in their marriage, Yasmine had been the one to fight, to raise her voice, to insist there must be—must be—something they could do.
Brian had sat there, as still as the statue of his ancestor in the center of Huban, which commemorated not just the first King but also repelling the French from their shores.
The doctor had given him six months. He’d only lived three and a half. And every moment of the time he’d had left had been devoted to thinking about their child.
“Take our child home, Yasmine,” he’d said.
“To Fort McMurray? Of course.” Where else had he thought she would go? At least there she knew her way around, had a job, a few friends.
“No, no,” he’d whispered, squeezing her fingers. “Home, to take his or her rightful place.”
She wouldn’t say either yes or no. Her habitual fear may have been rendered distant and weak by the pain of watching him slip away, but it still held sway.
Finally, wanting to understand, she’d asked, “Why would you put such a burden on our child, when you didn’t want it yourself?”
He’d shaken his head. “I would have carried the burden, but my need for you was far stronger than the need to fulfill my responsibilities to the country.”
He had been dying by then, so she hadn’t let loose the words gathering beneath her tongue, threatening to choke her if she didn’t spit them out.
He’d hated it all. His unpredictable, forbidding, controlling and manipulative mother. The constant rounds of royal protocol and living in a fishbowl. When he’d told her he was taking off, it hadn’t been couched as, I can’t live without you: run away with me. No, he told her he was leaving and asked if she wished to go.
Of course, she’d said yes.
At sixteen, she would have done anything for him.
Now he was trying to push her to take their child, her baby, back to a place where, if they believed Yasmine’s story, they’d take him or her away; probably imprison Yasmine too. Her father had some influence, but not enough to save her from the repercussions of that long-ago decision.
Perhaps it had been the cancer that had made Brian misremember, but Yasmine didn’t have the same problem. The palace had been a frightening place; Queen Nargis a despot. She was long dead now, but Yasmine knew nothing of the family who had ascended to the throne. Father had intimated things were better, both in governance and for the people, but she wouldn’t take the chance.
After all, her child would threaten their right to rule. Who knew what they might be willing to do to hold onto power?
And when it came out that her father had known where they were, his life might be endangered too.
No. Her child would have a normal existence. As good as she and Brian...
Mind stumbling over the thought, she cupped her belly, the stab of grief like a sword inserted, twisted.
It was just her. Brian was gone.
Now her pain underwent a metamorphosis, took her to a place of clarity.
Nothing was sure. Nothing was a given.
She abruptly sat up, opening eyes closed so long the sudden light was blinding.
“Nurse.” Her voice was wispy, a ribbon in a windstorm, but somehow it carried, as one of the nurses came bustling in.
“Are you in pain, Mrs. Haskell?” She immediately began checking the monitors.
“No. No. I need to see a social worker, right away.”
The nurse paused, and the sympathy in her eyes was obvious
. Yasmine had vaguely heard them talking through the fog of her disconnect.
“Husband died yesterday...”
“She collapsed...”
“High-risk pregnancy to begin with...”
“First child, although she’s in her late forties...”
“Says there’s no next of kin...”
The nurses knew she was in a bad place, and this one made no effort to offer comforting platitudes or dissuade her.
“I’ll put the call in right away for you.” She eased Yasmine back against the pillows, and pulled the unnecessary blanket back up over her distended stomach. “You just relax. We’ll take good care of you.”
Was it a premonition, or just the aftereffects of watching Brian slide away from this world to the next? Yasmine didn’t know. All she could see was her baby, alone, with no one to care for him or her.
She wouldn’t let that happen.
And she wouldn’t let them take the baby back to Kalyana either.
Copyright © 2019 by Ann McIntosh
ISBN-13: 9781488048173
Their One-Night Twin Surprise
Copyright © 2019 by Karin Baine
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
