Page 21 of Royal Surrogate 2

I give the stout woman a curt nod, but something about the way she calls mePapagives me a thrill I can’t explain.

“What news do you have that’s so important, anyway?”

“I…I…” It isn’t as though I’m going to tell this woman I’ve been secretly hiding the fact that Renae and I are truly married. Everyone thinks we’re married.

“That’s what I thought.” She clucks her tongue at me again. “Listen to me, Papa. I don’t care if you have news of the coming World War. I don’t care if you have news of Prince Andrew’s coronation. I don’t care if you have news of an alien invasion. You will keep the mother of your child calm and happy while she’s under my care. Do you understand?”

I give her another curt nod.

She grabs me by the ear again, making me wince. “I saidcalm. Do you understand, Papa?Calm. Nothing to upset her. Nothing to make her heart race. Nothing to excite her. You understand this, Papa?”

I give another nod through the biting pain of her pulling at my ear before she releases me.

“Good. When you leave this hospital, if all is well, your son is growing and healthy inside his mama, you can tell her your news. Have your married fun. But not one second before. You get it, Papa?”

I nod one last time.Papa. I knew I was going to be a father before today. I’d seen the papers, heard the words. But something about this makes it all seem much more real. My son is growing inside Renae. My wife. We’re going to be a family. I’m going to be a papa.

I must tell her.Soon.But the nurse is right. The news will upset her. So it will just have to wait.

CHAPTER 17

Renae

The next week in the hospital is one of the longest of my life.

Something has shifted in me. Almost dying…almost losing my baby… It feels like a switch has been flipped, like I’m suddenly awake to everything I want, everything that matters.

And I want to stop fighting it.

Every time I look at Caspar now, my entire chest floods with warmth. I want this man—I have since almost the very beginning. And I care for him, more deeply than I ever intended. I’ve spent the last few months denying it, suppressing it, wrestling with every twinge and ache of my heart, but life is too short and too precious to keep going like that.

Right now, and for the immediate future, at least, he’s right here in front of me, and I plan on enjoying it while it lasts, soaking up every breathless minute of it while I can.

I’ll deal with the consequences of that later, after we divorce.

And Caspar isn’t the only thing I’ll deal with later. Dozens of times a day, I spread my fingers across my belly, feeling for the tiny life inside me. I’ve fought my feelings for this child as well, but I no longer have the strength to deny them. I know I’ve agreed to give him up, but while this baby is inside me, he’s mine, and I’ll love him and protect him and do everything I can to be the mother he deserves.

It will break my heart to leave him, but I can’t think about that right now. I’m just grateful he’s still here with me.

My arrival back at the Wintervale manor is something of an event, but fortunately, Caspar is here with me. He deflects the attention of the family and staff easily, and he even gets me out of any family meals for the next week, under the excuse that I’m still “recovering.”

By the time night rolls around, I’m practically buzzing with everything I’ve been holding in the past week. I lie on our bed, snuggled between the covers as Caspar comes in and starts preparing for bed without a word.

Why did I fight this for so long? I ask myself as he quietly undresses across the dark room. Caspar can be cocky, sure. And exasperating at times. But he’s also handsome and charming—and he’s never wanted anything but a baby to call his own. He’s a good man, and one who’s treated me with such respect and tenderness, even all these months I’ve held him at arm’s length.

He hasn’t done more than give me a quick peck on the cheek or brow since that nurse walked in on us in the hospital and told him off. I’m hoping it’s simply because he was following her instructions, but my chest still flutters with nerves as he climbs in the other side of the bed without a word.

He doesn’t touch me. Even now, he respects the deal we made. But he’s so close I can feel the heat coming from his skin, feel every small movement of his body as if it were my own.

Neither of us says anything for a long moment. But I know he’s wide awake, know he’s staring up at the ceiling just like me. The air around us is so thick, so charged, it’s hard to breathe.

And then I can’t take it anymore.

“Caspar, I just need to say?—”

“Renae, there’s something I really need to tell?—”

We both cut ourselves off when we realize the other is speaking, and I laugh softly, flushing in the darkness at how jittery and nervous I suddenly feel.

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