Page 41 of Vows to a King
His first instinct had been to splay his palm over her belly while holding her tight to him. Only when she assured him that she was fine and sulkily complained that the shrill tone of the cell phone had woken her had he let her go.
He felt no shame in the fact that his first thought, and worry, had been for his wife.
Especially when the day had been particularly fraught with emotions.
Thalassos had celebrated his three-month regime, which had included a weeklong tour of the big cities with Jemima—his pregnant and nauseous but determined-to-do-her-duty wife, a summer fete in the royal gardens and a ball to celebrate the new and flourishing trade agreement with Ephyra, and the ousting of certain crown council members who’d had their fingers in too many powerful pies.
In the last three days, he had been so busy with media interviews that he had barely seen Jemima outside of a meeting.
That morning, in the middle of a meeting with the cabinet ministry that had gone over its limits by a whole two hours, he had been reminded by his personal aide that his queen had a medical appointment. He’d rushed to the state-of-the-art women’s clinic—that Jemima had inaugurated only two weeks ago, in his armored car, his heart thudding in his chest.
Like him, his wife never asked for anything and he desperately wanted to cure her of that. He wanted to be a good king for Thalassos, but for that, he first desperately needed to be a great husband to his wife.
He knew, with each passing minute, that he had married a woman who was not only smart and brave but extremely generous with her affection. A woman that made him dream like he had as a boy again. Which felt both right and dangerous.
Maybe this was his prize after everything he’d been through—attraction and companionship and even friendship in marriage. Not tainted by the crushing expectations of love, but defined by simpler, easier terms like fidelity and respect. Because that was a price he could easily pay.
After a half hour of worries circling him like vultures, he’d rushed in through the private entrance into a large expansive waiting room at the private clinic to discover his wife lying prostrate on the examination table with tears streaming down her cheeks.
His heart had nearly torn out of his chest with worry.
Rushing to her, he’d clutched her hand in his, demanding to know why his queen was crying and why someone wasn’t treating her. It was as if a deafening roar had filled his ears.
It had taken Jemima pushing up to sit and gathering him to her with soft kisses along his jawline before his heart settled into place again. Then she’d told him in a tremulous voice that her tears were happy tears because he was to be the father of twins.
Stunned into wonder, Adonis had glanced at the large ultrasound screen and the two little beanlike images that were his children. The entire axis of his life had tilted at the beautiful future shining in front of him in black and white.
He’d banished the doctor, her attendants, and his own staff with one imperious command. Then like a beast in fear, he had tackled her into the bed, brought her to her knees and hands, and used her to ride the treacherous edge of the expansive, nearly choking feeling that had filled him.
Two children…of his own, of his blood, and finally, his family irrevocably. A dream he had nurtured for so long, without even whispering it to himself.
Not even the old King could take this away from him.
Happiness, he realized only later, could be as devastating as pain and he wasn’t sure he could trust it. He couldn’t take it. And so, he had worked it out on her. Sending his wife over the edge, again and again, until she begged for him to come inside her.
Only when he had collapsed on top of her, her limbs shaking like they were made of some airy dessert, had he realized how roughly he had taken her.
Skin damp and flushed pink, breaths coming in shallow pants, Jemima had convinced him that she had needed it just as much he had. That she needed to know that the dream was reality.
When they had returned to the palace—Adonis having canceled all his appointments for the day, she had wrapped herself around him, begged him to stay with her, and promptly fallen asleep.
Now, as he slipped on a robe over his shoulders, Jemima’s vanilla scent clinging to him, and marched into his private office, a strange, dreamlike quality dogged his steps. Rubbing at the tightness in his chest, he switched his phone on and found a request from Queen Calista to contact her through a video call. And to make sure he had utter privacy.
Fully awake and tense enough that he considered waking Jemima for a moment and then discarded it, he switched on his laptop and made the call.
The young Queen greeted him with the usual serene greeting that he returned.
Feeling impatient to get back to his bed and his wife, he said, “Clearly, it is an emergency that you should contact me like this, Queen Calista. How may I be of service to Ephyra?”
A soft smile split Calista’s lips even as her expression remained somber. “It is a wonder every time I speak with you, Adonis,” she said, disregarding protocol and using his name. “It gives me hope for myself. If a rebel like you could learn the intricate intrigues of the palace and rule with such fairness, I feel like I could do right by Ephyra too.”
It was a sign of the trust they had developed that she would admit to having doubts about her rule. “Most of the credit for this transformation goes to my queen,” he said, the words rolling off of his lips, coming straight from his heart. The truth of it rooted deep inside him like some immovable tree sinking its roots deep inside the fertile soil of Thalassos. “Without Jemima, I would only be half the King I am now.”
A curious light dawned in the young Queen’s eyes. “This generosity and this ability to give credit where it’s due…do I dare hope are qualities shared by your brother too?”
Adonis felt as if she had punched him straight in the throat. He scowled. “May I ask why you’re bringing my dead brother into this discussion? Especially, when it is my understanding that Adamos and you did not see eye to eye.”
“We did not,” she accepted easily. “Because your brother refused to even honor the meeting that had been scheduled for months with his presence. And broke every line of protocol when it came to dealing with Ephyra. In some moments, I wondered if I had the Princes of Thalassos crossed. If not for the fact that he disappeared and you took his role, I would not be surprised if our nations had plunged into war.”
