Page 50 of His Hidden Royal Heirs

Zia managed to nod at the doctor. Everything was fine.Fine. She placed her hands over her stomach, felt a tiny little roll against her palm. They were good.

But what about Beau?

“Once the pain is completely gone, move her up to her room,” the doctor was telling Cristhian. “She should stay there. All meals brought to her. Supervision when she needs to get up. This is very common, particularly with multiples, but it’ll require some more care taken from the day-to-day to make sure she isn’t overtaxing herself.”

“I will make certain she doesn’t.”

The doctor nodded. “Either of you, fetch me if you need anything.” And then she was gone as quickly as she’d come.

Cristhian stood at the threshold to the room. He didn’t say anything, and a long silence stretched out between them. Until Zia couldn’t take it any longer.

“I suppose we’ll have to postpone the wedding then.”

He gave a short little nod. “Of course.”

“I didn’t mean for...”

“Zia.” He sounded pained. “Of course you didn’t. Our number one priority is that you and the children are healthy. Weddings can wait.”

“But—”

“You need not worry. Doctor’s orders. Trust me. I promised you. I will protect you all. Beau included.”

She studied him then, and there was something different about him. A softness she had not fully seen in him before—at least before he hid it behind that arrogance and control. She understood that Beau’s panic attack had made him realize things about his mother, and she supposed that’s why he was offering to be so supportive of her, but...

“Why, Cristhian? I understand the children are yours, but Beau and I are not. You don’t owe us your protection.”

“I have never been a fan of the wordowe. It was used against me for many years. What Iowedmy mother’s legacy.” He shook his head. “But what I discovered in those difficult years is that anyone’s life is a tapestry. What might life have been like if my mother’s family had included my father’s, instead of trying to fight a war? My children will have all the pieces they can of people who will put them first. That includes their mother, and their aunt.”

“Aunt,” Zia repeated. She’d spent so much of the past few months trying to set up a life for her children, but she admittedly had spent little time thinking of them as...little people in the world, inherworld. Calling BeauAunt. And CristhianFather.

“Family protects, or it should. So that is what we will do.” He took her hand then, clasped it between his two much larger ones. “But I’m discovering there is more, Zia. Quite unexpectedly, I find myself...being in love with you.”

Love. For a moment, she didn’t breathe, but even when she reminded herself to, she didn’t say anything.

Ever since he’d introduced the idea, what felt like forever ago but was only perhaps a week now, she had been convinced that she would allow him to fall in love withher. That this would be best, really. And she would stay perfectly...detached. She would use his love as a kind of safeguard, but she would not allow herself to feel that much, that deeply, so that it ended up affecting her choices when it came to their children.

So she didn’t speak. Even with her heart racing in her chest, even with this strange...elation soaring through her. She didn’t respond to him.

He could love her, and that would be okay. Best even.

But she would not allow herself to love him.

Ever.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

AFTERATIME, Cristhian helped Zia back upstairs to her room. He tucked her into bed, then began to give instructions to staff about how to proceed while she was on bed rest. Including moving some of his things into her suite.

He would be here through the night, and as long as he needed until he felt assured that all would be well. He trusted the doctor, but his brain had not yet taken the doctor’s assurances on board.

Perhaps his brain was no longer functioning, since he had told Zia that he was in love with her.

She had very purposely not said it back.

This was fine, perhaps even best. It allowed him to make the right choices. Love did not need to be reciprocal to put things in their place.

He would love her, and their children, andthatwould be the settled, controlled feeling he was searching for.

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