Page 7 of The Prince's Secret Twins

“That’s Rafi,” she sighed, looking down at her son. “He’s impatient and demanding.”

“Laith isn’t?” Joran asked, fascinated. She smiled, remembering how excited she’d been at the news that she was pregnant. For a brief moment, Tila felt the urge to tell him everything, every little detail of their emerging personalities. She wanted to tell him how excited she’d been at the discovery thatshe was giving birth to twins and the terror she’d felt as soon as the high had subsided. She wanted to tell him so much!

Then she remembered that he had left her. He’d ignored all of her communications.

He’d abandoned her when she’d needed him most.

Turning her back on Joran so she couldn’t see how handsome he was, or remember the way she’d held onto his strong, powerful shoulders when he’d done that thing with his mouth and…oh dear heaven!

Shaking off those memories, she sighed, and banished those delicious, long-ago memories. Instead, she looked down at her precious son. “Yes, this is Laith. And he’smyson. Not yours.” She sniffed and blinked back more tears. “Go away. We’re fine.”

“Tila,” Joran began, and she could feel the warmth of his body against her back. He wasn’t touching her, but she could still feel him, could smell him and…oh, he smelled good! Unlike her. She reeked of body odor and baby puke and…who even knew what else!

Turning, she settled Laith in his arms. “Here, I need a shower.”

“Tila,” he started to say, even as he protectively pulled the small infant against his massive chest. “We need to talk.”

She held up a hand, stopping whatever he was about to say. She noticed the first man walk behind Joran and disappear into the small bedroom. Moments later, he reappeared without Rafi in his arms. Then the two strangers politely disappeared through her front door. They looked relieved as well as concerned and she didn’t understand the last part. Especially when one of them, she didn’t know their names, pulled his radiooff the vests they both grabbed and muttered something into the microphone. She couldn’t hear what was said as the door shut behind him. But Tila thought she’d heard something along the lines of, “must hurry” before the two men disappeared.

When they were alone, Tila didn’t wait for Joran to speak. Instead, she walked to her bathroom and closed the door. For good measure, she locked it behind her. She knew that it wouldn’t keep Joran out, but it was a silent, angry message.

With a flick of her wrist, she turned on the shower. While she waited for the water to warm up, she took off her clothes, then stood in front of her tiny mirror. Her body had changed dramatically since the birth of her baby boys. Her breasts were bigger, as was the rest of her. She still hadn’t lost the pregnancy weight so her stomach was saggy. Her thighs were fine, but there were ugly, silver lines running along the skin on her shapeless stomach and thighs indicating where her body had stretched to support her pregnancy.

But it was her face that really bothered her. The pregnancy weight would come off, or it wouldn’t. She wasn’t overly concerned about her weight. No, what really pained her was how haggard she looked. Since this was the first time she’d looked in the mirror in quite a while, Tila was shocked at how tired she seemed. Her hair hadn’t been washed in…she wasn’t sure how long. The last two times she’d showered, shampoo hadn’t been a priority. Just getting clean before her baby boys protested had been her only goal.

Now that Joran was outside the bathroom, she stepped under the water, reveling in the silence. Ever since giving birth, Tila had taken showers with her babies in their car seats right outside her shower. They’d screamed their outrage that they’d been left alone, so she’d hurried through the process.

Now, lingering under the warm water, knowing that her tiny boys were protected and Joran would care for them if they woke again, she sighed with happiness. Oh, it felt so good to feel the water on her skin and not hear the shrill cries of Rafi or Laith. However, even as she enjoyed the sensation of them not being right outside her shower, Tila missed them. For the past two months, every moment of her day had been spent caring for her infant sons. So even five minutes alone meant that she’d missed five minutes of their lives.

She dumped shampoo into her hand, then lathered up her hair. Conditioner next and she contemplated shaving her legs. She didn’t want to seem vain, but before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed her razor.

“I’m not doing this for him,” she muttered, bending down and stretching muscles that hadn’t been stretched for a long time as she scraped away the hair that had been growing on her legs. Before the babies had been born, Tila hadn’t been able to reach her legs, or see around her pregnant belly. Now that she could, her mangled pride shuddered at the sight.

Twenty minutes later, she stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Unfortunately, she hadn’t thought to grab clothes before coming into the bathroom. That meant she needed to step out of the locked bathroom wearing only a towel.

Feeling better after her one hour of sleep plus a long, rejuvenating shower, Tila pulled the door open and…froze.

Joran was sitting on her bed, his back propped up against the headboard and his long, strong legs stretched out. He’d made her bed and Tila almost cried at the beauty of it.

“You need to get out,” she told him, turning away from him. She tightened the towel around her body and pulled the closet door open. She contemplated her options, but theleggings she’d preferred pre-pregnancy were still too tight to be comfortable. In fact, none of her clothes fit her properly. Turning away from the closet, she walked over to the pile of clean laundry, fishing out a pair of ugly sweatpants.

Before Joran’s arrival, she had loved these sweatpants. They were comfortable and warm, didn’t cut into her belly and added a thick layer of protection against leaks from her sons’ diapers.

Joran’s deep, masculine voice surprised her when he asked, “Why? I’ve seen every part of you before.”

She glared at him, then stomped back into the bathroom. She started to pull off the towel, but then realized she didn’t have panties, bra, or a top. Leaning her head against the door, she fought back a sob of frustration. Before the thought could finish forming, a knock sounded on the door.

Before she could answer, the door opened slightly. A strong hand with one of her ugly nursing bras, a huge sweatshirt, and a pair of white cotton panties dangled from his fingers.

She grabbed the clothing and pushed the door closed.

Tila wasn’t going to weaken just because the man had realized her problem. No, she was going to be strong. She wouldn’t allow this man to just waltz back into her life. He’d abandoned her and their babies.

As she dressed, ignoring how much she hated the maternity bra and the panties, Tila told herself that she and Joran could have a calm, rational conversation about sharing custody. It would tear her apart to not have her baby boys with her every night, but it was the right thing to do. Not for Joran. If it were up to her, Joran could rot in hell. No, sharing custody was the right thing to do because her sons deserved to have a strong father figure in their lives.

When she was dressed, Tila stepped out of the bathroom.

Joran was standing next to her bed, his big, strong arms crossed over his massive chest. She longed to be enfolded by those arms. Tila remembered how good it felt to be in Joran’s arms, to feel him holding her as she fell asleep, knowing that he was there to hold and protect her.

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