Page 4 of The Prince's Secret Twins

Desperate to maintain some semblance of control, Joran began bouncing awkwardly, as if auditioning for the role of a malfunctioning jack-in-the-box. He hoped the rhythmic motion would soothe the tiny being before it realized it should be utterly terrified of him. At the same time, he was desperately trying to hide his own rising sense of panic. After all, if this little manever figured out that he was just as terrified, all hell would break loose—quite literally, considering the potential for diaper explosions.

It was a scene straight out of a slapstick comedy, with Joran playing the role of the reluctant babysitter in a mismatched buddy comedy. And as he bounced and whispered soft, pointless reassurances in a desperate bid to keep the peace, Joran couldn't help but wonder if this tiny tyrant would be the one to finally crack his steely exterior.

He walked out into the den area, stepping over piles of clothes, mail, toys, and blankets. At certain points, Joran just kicked the items out of the way while continuing to bounce the infant in his arms. Baby and Joran stared at each other and he had to admit that the tiny human fascinated him. Those big, dark eyes stared up at him and there was a flop of dark hair on the baby’s head.

"I think he's fussy because he needs a clean diaper," Algar grunted, his tone a comical blend of resignation and determination as he rummaged through the scattered items on the floor. With the precision of a seasoned detective unearthing a crucial clue, he straightened up triumphantly, brandishing a clean diaper. He offered the diaper to Joran, a gesture laden with expectation and apprehension.

Joran's eyes widened in horror at the sight of the diaper in his guard's outstretched hand, his brain short-circuiting with the sheer absurdity of the situation. "I don't know how to change a baby's diaper!" he blurted in a hushed voice, as if confessing to a crime he hadn't realized he'd committed.

Algar shrugged and shook the clean diaper. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law. Therefore, you currently own that baby and it definitely needs a clean, dry diaper.”

Joran knew that Algar was right, still, he really didn’t want to do it. He’d heard horror stories of dirty diapers.

Again, Algar waved the diaper impatiently as Joran glared at him. But in the end, he took the diaper.

“Any tips?” Joran demanded, settling the infant onto the only space on the sofa that wasn’t piled high with clean or dirty laundry.

“Look it up on the internet,” Edin called from the kitchen as he busily fixed a bottle.

Algar did just that, smiling triumphantly when he found a video. It took over twenty minutes, and four torn diapers, but eventually Joran got a clean diaper on the…boy. Yep, this was a little guy with very strong, impatient legs. When the diaper was finally securely in place, Joran stood up, triumphant.

Only to have Edin shove a bottle into his hands. “It’s ready.”

Joran grumbled, but in truth, he found he wasn’t ready to give up the little man. He was so adorable. And hungry! Joran watched with fascination as the little infant reached for the bottle eagerly,. As soon as Joran scooped the infant back into his arms, his tiny mouth wrapped around the tip and started sucking, staring up at Joran the whole time. The infant finished most of the little bottle quickly, his eyes fluttering as he drained the foul smelling stuff.

Joran was still holding the infant, the baby suckling every few moments to get the last drops of milk, when sounds started coming from the second bedroom again.

Algar sighed and, with a swift rip, released the Velcro bands on his vest, carefully setting it against the wall. “I got this one.” He turned to Edin. “Can you fix another bottle?”

Edin nodded and headed back into the kitchen. Joran half listened to the sounds, impressed when Algar found another diaper and started changing the second baby. He followed the video instructions carefully and it only took him five minutes start to finish. He looked up at Joran with a smirk.

“Think you’re an expert?”

Algar stood with the baby in his arms, then knocked a pile of laundry onto the floor. “I did it faster than you,” he said as he offered the second boy the bottle.

“Fine. You can handle all of the diapers while Tila sleeps.”

Algar’s smirk of triumph vanished. He stared at the small boy in Joran’s arms, then at the one in his arms. “No way, Boss. That’s not fair.”

Edin grunted and nudged a pile of laundry. “Why is there so much stuff everywhere?” he demanded. A moment later, he removed his vest and set it on the floor next to Algar’s. “I can’t handle this kind of chaos,” he said, then hefted a pile of laundry into his arms, sniffing suspiciously. “I think these are dirty.” He looked around. “Some piles are clean though.”

A moment later, he disappeared. Several minutes later, the sound of a washing machine churning preceded Edin’s return. “There was a load in the washing machine already and a dry load in the dryer.” And with that, he dumped everything on the kitchen table and started sorting and folding. Most of the clothes were infant sized outfits, but some of Tila’s clothes were mixed in. He hummed quietly as he folded the clothes. When he finished, he headed into the kitchen and started washing the dishes. He left the bottles on the counter, but figured out where the other dishes were stored.

“Boss,” Edin called out softly, “are you sure that Tila is only watching these babies for someone else?” he asked as he returned to the den.

Joran reluctantly looked up from the now sleeping infant in his arms. “Of course she’s only babysitting. These aren’t her babies.”

The man shifted slightly, his hands fisted on his hips as he looked around. “Are yousure?”

Joran rolled his eyes. “Tila wasn’t seeing anyone last year. I’m sure of it.”

Edin rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, but before he could say anything more, the buzzer on the dryer sounded. He hurried out of the room and the sound stopped.

Joran looked over his shoulder at the still-mostly closed door. No sound came from Tila’s room.

Still, Joran looked around, wondering why the house was such a mess. In his mind, the babies couldn’t be Tila’s, because she would have told him if she’d started seeing someone else.

Of course, he hadn’t had time to really speak to her other than the occasional short text message over the past several months. Now that he thought about it, Tila had been oddly quiet lately.

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