CHAPTER TEN

C RISTHIAN FELT AS though he were making some progress. Zia was forthcoming with most information. About her family, her upbringing, what she wanted for the children.

She was a fascinating woman. She had a wide variety of interests, and she talked easily and happily about most of them. When he prodded about her family in an effort to determine the best way to handle them, she presented a strange figure. Obedient, yet driven by an internal need to be herself. Easily manipulated by an authoritarian father, and yet not ignorant or foolish. Most of her purpose, at least as she stated it, was to protect her sister.

If he felt like there were some similarities there, in how she viewed the royal machine in many of the same ways he did, well... He didn’t think too deeply on it. Similarities didn’t mean anything. Not when he had a situation to control in order to ensure the best outcomes for everyone.

He had not yet figured out how she could talk of her sister so protectively, and yet have abandoned the woman to handle the mess Zia herself had made. He could not quite make sense of the spoiled princess who clearly did as she pleased, and yet, at times, had not. And the more he dug into these seemingly disparate facets of her, the more she took up residence in his mind even when he was not spending time with her.

He was quite sure he could have handled all this, even if it was a tad alarming and unique, if it weren’t for the physical undercurrents that still traveled between them.

He knew she was attracted to him still. She could not hide her reaction to him. The issue was that he had his own reaction to her, and he did not care for it. She haunted his dreams, in that same way she had before he’d known she carried his children. As if this huge turn of events had not changed anything at all.

When it should .

Still, Cristhian had not lost his head. He had continued to engage her in conversation, in meals together. He had worked on charming her, and he thought he was succeeding as that suspicious look rarely crossed her face anymore. He would have been happy to leave it at just the two of them for a few days more yet, but he could sense she had some concerns about her doctor’s appointment, so he had done everything in his considerable power to have the doctor arrive, hiring an entire fleet of people to get the doctor across closed roads and looming snowdrifts.

Though he still felt marriage the best course of action, and certainly something that needed to be acted upon before they approached any signs of her going into labor, making certain all three parties were healthy was paramount to everything else.

Even worrying about getting a clergy member who could marry them to the castle.

The doctor arrived one snowy afternoon, with the fleet he’d hired to get her to the castle safely.

She was a middle-aged woman with a no-nonsense way about her that Cristhian appreciated, and her reputation was one of excellent work and, just as important, working with royals and celebrities and never once letting their secrets wind their way into the press.

Cristhian still had not contacted King Rendall, and since the king’s own men had searched for months for Zia with no luck, he figured he still had a few weeks yet before he needed to answer to the man.

He would do so with a clear way forward. This respite wasn’t running away . It was preparing a battle plan. Just as he had done once as a young man, ready to cut ties with his mother’s family. More or less.

“I can do an exam,” the doctor explained to him as they walked up the staircase to Zia’s room. “But a paternity test will have to wait until we have access to a lab without worrying about the state of the roads.”

Cristhian nodded. He had not been lying to Zia about not having any true concerns about paternity, but a child of his, a child of hers... There would need to be legal proof along with protection. So that would be the next step after this.

When they knocked on the door to her suite, Zia answered the door herself. He made the introductions, there was some brief small talk, and then the doctor got to work. She didn’t seem to have much in the way of equipment, but she chatted cheerfully while she worked, setting Zia up in her bed, propped up on pillows.

She took vitals, then talked them through the process, explaining her sonogram machine—an incredibly small little device—would transmit the images to her laptop screen, set up on the nightstand next to the doctor. Cristhian was somewhat dubious of the equipment, but once she started...he forgot all about technology .

On the screen, it was black and gray. The gray and white forming different shapes against the black. The doctor held her little machine this way and that on Zia’s round stomach. She made considering noises, but Cristhian couldn’t begin to imagine what they meant.

Then it was hard to listen to her, because she explained the odd womp-womp noise that filled the room was a heartbeat. And then another.

His children’s hearts. Beating. The sound echoed inside him like some kind of avalanche.

Eventually, the doctor took the machine off Zia’s stomach, and gave Zia permission to get comfortable. She clicked a few keys on her laptop and pulled up one of the sonogram images.

“This is Baby A,” she explained, and she outlined the head, an arm, a knee. She did the same with Baby B. She mentioned heart rates and growth patterns, but Cristhian couldn’t take it all in once he could fully recognize what she outlined as bodies.

He had seen the physical evidence of them all these days from the size of Zia’s stomach. He had been fascinated that two children could be nestled inside her, and still...this was something else entirely.

Hearts beating. Limbs moving. Life. A life he’d had a hand in creating. It swamped him, in a way perhaps he had not allowed himself to fully accept yet.

“You are very lucky, ma’am,” the doctor said to Zia. “Everything is just as it should be. I see no risk factors for preterm labor. At this rate, you could make it to thirty-six weeks and perhaps even after. We’ll want to keep a close eye on things, of course, but everything is just as it should be.”

But Zia wasn’t looking at the doctor, and neither was he.

“We can discuss the sex, if you’d like,” the doctor continued.

Neither of them looked at the doctor. Neither of them answered her. The doctor cleared her throat, but Cristhian could not take his eyes off the tears in Zia’s. The way everything about her shone with some... He did not know. He felt bowled over by everything . Like he was no longer the foundation he stood on, survived on.

Like something else had upended him, wrestled his control and strength away. Which was ludicrous, of course, and a thought to be pushed away. Without control, only danger and tragedy lay ahead.

“I’ll...give you two a private moment,” the doctor said. “Then we can discuss next steps once you’re ready.”

Cristhian had no idea if the doctor left then. He couldn’t have cared less. He couldn’t seem to break his gaze from the myriad of Zia’s green. The tears that spilled over now, dotting her cheeks like sparkling jewels.

He brushed the tears away. “What is this?” he murmured, something heavy and painful in his chest, and yet it held no candle to the pain the tears brought.

Zia shook her head and sniffled. “I cry every time I hear their heartbeats. Not out of any sadness. It’s just so amazing. I don’t know how to explain it. They just...are about to exist in this world and I...” Her voice squeaked, and she made a vague kind of gesture.

But she didn’t have to explain what she felt. Perhaps he would not shed any tears, but he understood the overwhelmingness . It was just...too big, this reality of theirs. Children. Children . Coming sooner rather than later. Each their own individual person who would exist and live in this world.

So he took Zia’s hand in his, sat next to her on the bed. Trying to find some semblance of the anchor that had once tethered him to earth.

She made a little “oh” noise, then her mouth curved. She squeezed his hand and pulled it to her stomach. She pressed his palm there, right at the side of the swell of their children.

“Do you feel it?” she asked.

But he did not know what he was meant to feel, and not knowing left him perfectly speechless.

He always knew.

Her mouth curved, even with the evidence of the tears still on her cheeks, as though she understood he was at a complete and utter loss. Unacceptable.

But before he could do anything about that, wrestle control of the situation back in place, she pressed his hand into her stomach with more force, and then he felt it...something ripple across his hand. If he had been untethered before, this became the anchor to everything.

His child, moving, there underneath her skin. This new version of his life. A new reason for everything. A purpose born of the future rather than the past.

And it all centered on Zia. Not just because she carried these babies, but because she was the mitigating factor. She was...

He did not know. Found he did not want to delve too much into these thoughts scrambling around in his mind, only half formed. So he pushed them out of his mind the only way he knew how.

He pressed his mouth to hers. Like he had those months ago. As if he was finding some new answer to an old question. Perhaps she was the answer.

Because she kissed him back. Like the moment had bowled her over, too. Rearranged something inside her, when she’d had all these months to carry this new life and grow it inside her and become accustomed to it all.

Everything had changed and yet she tasted the same. A same he shouldn’t remember quite as well as he did. Still, for all that same , she was different under his hands. Ripe and round and lovely. She sighed into him, like she had found respite after a long journey and this intoxicating feeling was new, strange, heady.

Her arms came around him. All the heat and flame they’d been ignoring for these past few days lighting between them.

Not smart, when he was always smart. Not in control, when he was always in control.

Except when it came to her.

Zia felt as though she were drowning in a storm of too many things. Joy. Fear. Hope and anxiety. Need, want, lust.

And the impossible and irresistible chemistry between them. She had been so sure she could resist it. Avoid it. That his sudden and unwanted appearance in her life, complete with overbearing decisions and control issues, clearly , should have taken all of this away.

But no.

It was not as though she had gone about kissing many a man. She’d had her little rebellions, just to prove to her father that he would not have a say in everything she did, even if he had a say in the last things she did.

But nothing had ever remotely felt like this. Like she might die if she did not get to experience that night again.

Just once , she thought to herself. It was the heat of the moment. Zia tried to assure herself of this. She just...hadn’t had anyone with her for any of these checkups. It was just the emotion that always struck her, but she had someone to pour it into.

But he was different, and she knew it. No matter how little she liked it.

The way he kissed her was like altering all the shaky foundations she’d managed to build since she’d left his bed, since she’d found out she was pregnant, and then that there were two babies. She had lovingly placed every floorboard in this brand-new life.

And he’d taken an axe to all of them. Hacked it all to pieces.

In the flame of this kiss she didn’t care. Who needed foundations when she had his arms around her and his mouth on her? When his hands smoothed over her stomach as if he sought to protect the little lives she grew?

And then lower, to stoke every fire that had ever existed within her, like they existed just for him.

She wanted him. Again. Even knowing it was a mistake. A temporary madness, really. But who cared in this temporary moment, knowing how good it would feel?

One of the babies rolled, long and hard against her stomach. Against him . He startled, pulling back and staring at her stomach in a kind of shock that made her want to laugh.

Not at him. Just at everything. And this strange, dizzying joy that came with it all, when she should know better than to believe in someone, in something. But no matter how hard she tried in this life to remind herself everyone else was living in a competition even if she didn’t realize it, she didn’t want to feel she was at war with him .

So when their gazes met, she was smiling in spite of herself. His gaze was hot, fervent. But he did not press his mouth to her again. Carefully, gingerly almost, he released her and got up off the bed. “The doctor is waiting.” He said this as though he had some control, but she watched the way he struggled to catch his breath. She saw the wild need in his eyes that couldn’t quite leave hers.

But if he could find some kernel of control in all this, so could she. “Yes.” The doctor. Sonograms and babies and...all that entailed. She could be in control, too. She could...be just as strong as him. The doctor was waiting because she had more information to impart.

Zia steeled herself to meet his dark, intense gaze. “Would you like to know the sex?” she managed to ask, though her voice sounded a bit strangled.

He didn’t say anything at first. He kept staring at her with all that fire that had her curling her hands into fists so she did not reach for him.

“I would, yes, if that is acceptable to you.” His voice was a rasp, reminding her of too many pieces of that night she’d spent with him. His mouth, his hands, the things he made her feel with just that dark, delicious voice of his.

But this was not that night. So she managed a tiny nod even though it wasn’t a question exactly. Still, she thought, maybe with someone by her side, she was ready. Or maybe it was just that time was running out, and she had to be ready whether she liked it or not.

He strode out of the bedroom, and within a few minutes was back with the doctor. Whose gaze moved from Cristhian to Zia in a way that had Zia blushing.

Profusely.

“Mr. Sterling has informed me you’d like to know the sex now.”

Zia nodded.

“A boy,” the doctor said. “And a girl. The girl is currently measuring a bit smaller than baby boy, but this is very common with twins, and so far, not a concern.”

A boy. A girl. Zia didn’t know why this came as such a shock. She supposed that because she had a twin sister, she’d just...always imagined them both as girls. Even knowing they could be one or two boys, she hadn’t been able to visualize that.

Now, with their father standing next to her, she could visualize far too many things. Children with darker features. One that looked like her, and one like him.

This made her want to cry all over again.

“Mr. Sterling? If you’ll excuse us? I’d like to have a private discussion with the expectant mother.”

Cristhian frowned at the doctor, but then he looked at Zia and some strange emotion she couldn’t parse passed over his face. He nodded. “Very well.” He gave Zia one last confusing look, and then turned and left the bedroom.

Zia had to force herself to tear her gaze from the door and smile politely at the doctor. “Thank you for braving the roads and such. It has put my mind at ease.”

“I’m glad. These last weeks of pregnancy can be stressful, but rest assured, you will be well taken care of. As a physician, I want it to be clear. While I will be staying here throughout the rest of your term, per Mr. Sterling’s request, and with his compensation, my duty is to you, ma’am. Your health, and your children’s health. You can come to me with any questions, voice any opinion you like. And I will always be honest with my recommendations.”

Zia blinked at the woman. While these were all nice things to hear, she supposed she hadn’t thought that far ahead. Hadn’t considered that Cristhian might hire a doctor who wouldn’t put her health first.

What a terrible thought. But the doctor kept talking.

“I have worked with many...well-known individuals. The rich and powerful. My record is above reproach. Never once have I been the source of gossip. Nor have I ever let a powerful man have sway over someone’s health.”

“This is all very comforting to hear, of course,” Zia said carefully. “But I... I guess I don’t know where it’s coming from.”

“Intercourse is not off the table,” the doctor said matter-of-factly.

Zia nearly choked on nothing but her own saliva. “I’m sorry?”

“You’ll want to monitor how you feel. If there’s any cramping, bleeding, discomfort after, you would want to avoid it from there on out.”

Zia could not stop the hot blush that worked up her cheeks. She had to clear her throat to speak as she wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I wouldn’t want to put them at risk.”

The doctor shrugged as if this was a very normal conversation, and she supposed it was. For parents who were married or in a relationship. It was straightforward for those people, no doubt.

But nothing was straightforward for her and Cristhian. No matter what the doctor said about it.

“We always want a mother to come as close to term as possible, particularly with twins,” she said, as though delivering a well-practiced speech. “But you are very healthy, your babies are very healthy. The risks are minimal at this stage. That can always change, but it might not. You have your own wants and needs, ma’am. Those are valid, too. But not a requirement of you, either.”

It all made a weird kind of sense now. The doctor was making sure she understood the green light was not because Cristhian was paying her, but because it was a perfectly reasonable option. But she left the caveat in, because no doubt women had been in her position where they had not wanted to deal with the advances of the men who were overseeing their health.

“I’m at your service, whenever you need,” the doctor said.

Zia managed a nod. “Thank you. I appreciate it. Genuinely.”

“I’ll leave you then, unless you have more questions?”

Zia shook her head. No. Not questions. Uncertainty, yes. But not questions. The doctor left her alone with her whirling thoughts. She pushed herself up and out of the bed and walked over to one of the windows, looking out into all that white.

The snow had stopped falling again, but still so much had piled up around the castle. It still felt like a fairy-tale world she knew she could not let herself be fooled by.

But she wanted to be. Just another day or two. Fooled and foolish. Believing in fairy tales of happily-ever-afters instead of the harsh reality of responsibility and control and protecting those she loved in whatever ways she could.

Beau. Her babies.

End of list.

Cristhian stepped into the bedroom then. He closed the door behind him. And Zia knew there was still a choice to be had here. She did not have to give in to her body’s desires. She could use her brain, protect her heart that felt so strangely bruised after all of this.

But she didn’t.