He opened up her gown, and he helped her guide one greedy mouth to her swollen, aching breast. Then the next, placing each little body beneath one of her arms, snug against her sides, so she could hold them in place like American footballs.
And she had read a thousand articles about how difficult breastfeeding was, and had read endless forums about how to manage it with hungry twins. She’d expected a battle. But there was no battle to mount, because it was happening. She felt one twin latch on, then the other. And they both began to pull at her.
Pia looked up at Ares while each of the perfect creatures they’d made together fed from her breasts, and she understood what family was on a primitive level she’d never imagined existed before.
She had known love. She had loved. She was still in love with the maddening man who stood beside her.
This was something else, this communion between the four of them. This needed a new word. This was like a new sun, bright and hot inside of her, taking her over, burning her up, terrifying and magical—and it was theirs.
They had done this. They had made this happen.
Nothing would ever be the same. But at the same time, everything was finally...beautiful.
And when the babies were fed and she and Ares had held each of them against their bare skin a while, a nurse came in to check them again, then whisked them off for more tests. Pia tried to move in her bed, winced at the pain from her abdomen, and realized that she still didn’t know what had happened to her.
“I can tell you this story using all kinds of medical terminology,” Ares said. “But what really matters is that I nearly lost you. And Pia. No matter how I let you down today, trust me when I tell you that losing you is unacceptable to me. It is unthinkable.”
She stared back at him, and he told her quickly and matter-of-factly about the rush to get her to the hospital. Her hemorrhage, the emergency cesarean section. How close she’d come to dying, and how terrified he had been.
“You told me you loved me,” he said, as he stood there next to her bed, stiff and tense, as if that was an insult.
And Pia didn’t want to remember this part. Not when she was still filled with that perfect sense of overwhelming, impossible, helpless love. She didn’t want to remember their wedding ceremony. That helicopter. All the cameras.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said now. “We’re parents, Ares, to two perfect little boys in desperate need of names. Let’s just concentrate on—”
“You told me you loved me, Pia,” Ares thundered at her. “And no one has told me that before, not unless they’d given birth to me themselves. That isn’t the kind of thing you can just say to a man.”
She wanted to cry again. “I’m sorry if I insulted you.”
“I have spent the last five hours begging gods I’ve never believed in to save you,” he told her then, tall and still golden. And he had held their babies in his hands when she couldn’t. He had been there. “Our wedding photos are all over every paper in the land, just as I wished, and it is like ash to me. Because there is no point in any of this, Pia, unless you are here. With me.”
“Ares...”
“I have no idea how to love anyone,” he told her, his green eyes blazing. “But for you, I will learn. I have no idea what a father does except crush his own son, but for the ones we made, I will learn how to do it right.”
He moved closer, taking her hands in his, and then going down on one knee beside her hospital bed.
“You don’t have to do this, Ares,” she said.
“When I thought I would lose you, every moment we spent together went through my head in a rush,” he said urgently. “And I could see it so clearly then, how much you loved me. How much you have always loved me. And how much I have failed you, time and again.”
“No,” she said fiercely. She winced as she sat up, but she reached out and took his beautiful, beloved face in her hands. “You are not a failure, Ares. I love you. That’s not conditional on how you behave. That doesn’t come with a list of duties or expectations. I just love you. It’s as simple and as complicated as that, and I don’t know how it works, either.”
“I used you like a pawn. I will never forgive myself.”
“I already have,” she said, and as the words came out of her, she realized they were true. “I’ve spent my whole life hating how I looked because I wasn’t my mother. Hating my body because it never looked like hers. But look what it did today.”
“You were magnificent,” Ares told her, his voice thick. “You are always magnificent, Pia.”
“Let them laugh if they like,” Pia said, her eyes on Ares. “They don’t matter. They never did. The only thing I have to be embarrassed about is that I ever let them get to me in the first place. Even in my own head.”
His mouth formed her name, but he turned his head so he could kiss her palm.
“I spent my whole life watching my parents tear themselves apart and call it love,” Pia told him, a new conviction growing inside her. As if it had always been there. As if her babies’ arrival had jogged it loose. “I used to think that was romantic. Now I suspect it was deeply unhealthy. What I want with you is the chance to explore the difference.”
“I love you,” Ares told her. “And I will spend the rest of this life proving to you that it’s not only because I thought I would lose you today. But because in thinking you were lost to me forever, I understood that forever was meaningless to me without you.”
“We made them,” she whispered. “And Ares. They’re perfect.”
“They’re beautiful,” he whispered back. “And so are you.”
And for a moment they grinned at each other, wide and bright and brimming with hope and possibility. There were two new, shiny little lives, and both of them would do their best to protect each one of them. To honor them and raise them.
Together.
“Pia,” Ares said, a quiet command. “Be my wife.”
“It will be my greatest honor,” she said, tears streaming down her face, but this time, they were not tears of pain. This was joy, this unwieldy, unsteady thing that held her in so tight a grip. Pure joy. “And you must be my husband.”
“It will be my privilege,” he said solemnly. “You will be my queen one day. But know this, Pia. You are already, and always will be, queen of my heart.”
And when he leaned over and pressed his mouth to hers, Pia tasted salt and sweetness. The great tangle that led to forever, and all the knots they’d tied in each other already that would keep them steady and connected as they headed there.
He kissed her, and it was like a fairy tale.
He kissed her, and she kissed him, and they woke each other up from that deep, dark enchantment that was the lives they’d led without each other.
Without love.
There and then, in a hospital room with the paparazzi calling their names outside, they started their new life. Together.
Full of love, light, and laughter to hold it all together, like glue.
* * *
Twenty years later, six weeks after his father’s death and his formal acceptance of his new role, King Ares of Atilia was crowned in the Great Cathedral.
He took the long walk up the cathedral’s august aisle that he had believed, once, he would never take.
The crowd cheered for him outside. The Atilian nobles and European aristocrats filled the pews. The famous Atilian choir sang ancient songs of power and glory.
But Ares’s gaze was on his family.
His fine, strong twins, Crown Prince Pollux and Prince Castor, who stared back at him with pride and love—something Ares had done his best to earn every day for two decades. Beside them, the rest of his children stood tall. His middle children, seventeen-year-old Leto and thirteen-year-old Nyx. And his second set of twins, his mischievous ten-year-old daughters, Helen and Clytemnestra, who looked like the yo
ung women they would become someday.
Someday, Ares thought as they beamed at him, but not today. No need to rush into it.
He had never built any significant bridges with his father, who had divorced and married twice more, but had never produced another child. The old king had died in a fury, and had been found with crystal shards all around him like a halo. Ares figured that was as close as Damascus was likely to get to the good place.
The older he got, the more Ares wished he could have worked things out with the man, but he understood the ache of it had more to do with his relationship with his own children. And the man he hoped he was in their eyes, the father he was first and always, before he was a king.
And when he talked to them about bloodlines, what he talked about was love.
Ares kept walking, taking in Pia’s brothers as they stood in the row behind his children. Because they were important to Pia, Ares had made them important to him, too. And as the years passed, he found Matteo Combe and Dominik James were more to him than a duty. They became more like...brothers.
And as all their families grew, with sets of twins to go around, it was hard to remember that Matteo was the one who had punched Ares at that funeral. Or that there was ever a time that Pia didn’t refer to her sisters-in-law, the impressive Dr. Sarina Fellows Combe and high-level Combe Industries executive Lauren Clarke James, as not only her sisters, but her friends.
With every step he took, Ares counted the ways he was a lucky man.
He had been born a prince, but it had taken Pia to make him a man. And it was only with Pia by his side that he could take his throne and become a king.
Ares reached the front of the cathedral and climbed the short stairs, then bent his head to accept the priests’ invocations.
He thought about his kingdom. About the Southern Palace that rarely stood empty these days, and more often rang with life and laughter, as it was meant to do. He thought about his people, who had accepted it when he’d told them that he’d kept his relationship with Pia secret because the two of them had needed a time that was only theirs.
And most of all, he thought of the woman who was there at his side when the priests placed the crown on his head, then handed him the ceremonial scepter.
He watched as they fit her with a crown of her own, but her gray eyes shined brighter than any crown. Especially when she looked at him and smiled.
Ares held out his hand to her, breaking ancient custom.
And Pia took it, because she always did.
Because she trusted him. She loved him.
And the way he loved her in return would have scared him, if she didn’t meet it so fiercely, so fully.
The only war he’d ever fought had been against himself, and Pia had taught him how to put down his arms.
He lifted her hand to his mouth.
“You have accepted the crown of the kingdom, and I have made you my queen,” he said.
“You have.”
“But there is a greater role for you to play,” he told her, knowing his voice carried not only to the furthest corners of the Great Cathedral, but was being heard on television sets and radios around the world. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever beheld. I count myself lucky every day I get to spend with you. You have made me a better man, and in so doing, will help me be the fair and just ruler my people deserve.”
Her eyes gleamed with unshed tears. She whispered his name.
“I promised you a long time ago that this day would come,” he said, and let himself grin, there before his children, his extended family, his subjects, and the planet. “Pia, love of my life, will you wield your crown not only as the queen of Atilia, but as the queen of My Heart?”
She stepped back, smiling, and then executed a perfect, deep curtsy.
“Your Majesty,” she said, distinct and sweet, while the gleam in her gaze promised him a long, hot night ahead, “it will be my pleasure.”
Ares kissed her when she rose, as if this coronation were the wedding day he and Pia had kept to themselves, and were now, finally sharing with the world. And she kissed him back as if they were alone.
The priests finished their blessings. And the roar of the crowd outside made the stained glass shake.
And then, when it was done and the bells began to toll, King Ares of Atilia took his beautiful queen by the hand, and led her into their sweet, bright, happy future. Just like those fairy tales Pia had mentioned all those years ago, when they were new.
Ares was the king. He would make it so. He would make it beautiful, like her.
For her.
And day by day, year by year, that was exactly what he did.
* * *
If you enjoyed His Two Royal Secrets by Caitlin Crews look out for the other two stories in The Combe Family Scandals trilogy:
The Italian’s Twin Consequences
Untamed Billionaire’s Innocent Bride
Available now!
And why not explore these other One Night With Consequences stories?
The Venetian One-Night Baby
by Melanie Milburne
Heiress’s Pregnancy Scandal
by Julia James
Innocent’s Nine-Month Scandal
by Dani Collins
Greek’s Baby of Redemption
by Kate Hewitt
Available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Bought Bride for the Argentinian by Sharon Kendrick.
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Bought Bride for the Argentinian
by Sharon Kendrick
CHAPTER ONE
IT WAS WORSE than she’d thought. Much worse. Past and present merged into one heartbreaking reality as Emily buried her face into the rough texture of the horse’s mane and wept. ‘Oh, Joya,’ she whispered. ‘Whatever has become of you?’
The horse gave a weak whinny and Emily couldn’t stem the tears even though she hadn’t cried in a long time. Because tears got you nowhere. Crying didn’t actually change anything, did it? It wasn’t as if someone was going to suddenly turn up and wave a magic wand and make it all better. For a few moments she just stood there before forcing herself to pull away, not wanting the animal to sense any more of the distress which had been swamping her ever since she’d arrived in this place.
Distractedly, she glanced around. A place which had been such a big part of her upbringing and was tied up with a swarm of memories. Bittersweet memories. Of a man with a h
ard body and warm, green eyes. A man who had brought her alive with his lips and his fingers and a whole lot else besides. Who had made her feel stuff she’d thought herself incapable of feeling. When she’d walked away from Alejandro Sabato it had felt as if someone were ripping her heart from her chest and then crushing it. In those few moments and all the months which had followed, she had truly known the definition of heartbreak. But she’d done it because there had been no other choice. Or at least it had seemed so at the time. Now she wondered if she had been a fool.
With an impatient hand she fisted away a tear, angry at herself for indulging in pointless reflection as she watched it tumble and soak into the rich Argentinian soil. Because she wasn’t here to feel sad, or look back. And she certainly wasn’t here to start thinking if only things had been different. Because there were no if onlys in life. The only certainty was that you took your choices and then had to live with the consequences, no matter how bleak they sometimes seemed.
She heard the sound of footsteps and turned to see Tomas walking slowly towards her, thinking how much the elderly retired groom had aged in the eight years since last she’d seen him. She had met him in the lawyer’s office, and he and his wife had agreed to accompany her here today, insisting on bringing a bag of provisions to the now-empty house. She’d been pleased to have their company, yes—but, more importantly, pleased to have someone to share her shock at what had awaited them here.
Because the last time she’d stood on this spot, the estate had been thriving and the enormous ranch pristine and elegant. But not any more. Now it looked like a ragged ghost of a building, with none of its former glory remaining. Everywhere she looked she could see decay and neglect—from the overgrown veranda, where once socialites had laughingly sipped mint juleps, to the main house itself. Or what remained of it. There was no trace of the gleaming paintwork, near which had nestled fragrant white flowers amid glossy green leaves. A couple of upstairs windows were broken and one of the doors was falling off its hinges. Evidence of mice was everywhere in the empty and echoing rooms. And as for the stables... Well, they were something else.
His Two Royal Secrets Page 15
