Epilogue

Six and a half months later, in the midst of renovations to the house they had firmly updated while keeping all of the beautiful period features, Eva put the final touches to the nursery.

Maybe it was old-fashioned to want an actual nursery opening off the master bedroom, but since she would only be pregnant this once, she had decided she would have it exactly how she wanted. The renovation and redecorating had entailed planning, hours of online browsing and multiple shopping trips, but it had been a labor of love.

Kyle, who had arrived home unexpectedly, considering that it was only two in the afternoon and he shouldn’t have been home for a whole three hours, leaned against the doorjamb and surveyed the room. “It looks good.” He gave her a slightly wary look as he loosened off his tie. “Is it finished?”

Eva dragged her gaze from the electric blue of Kyle’s. Months into a marriage that had been more sublime and interesting than she could have imagined, because she had never had to share her space with a man, she was even more in love with her husband.

Her husband.

The words still gave her a thrill and filled her with a glow of happiness. She and Kyle had spent time on Medinos, a honeymoon gift from Kyle so she could get in touch with her Atraeus roots and get to know her Messena relatives. She had met more family than she could poke a stick at, but the experience had been filled with laughter and healing. Most of all, she had enjoyed doing up the house with Kyle—the house that he had bought for her—working together to create a home that was a harmonious blend of them both. They still disagreed; on occasion they argued, but Eva figured that was a healthy sign.

She critically examined the white-painted armoire stacked full of diapers, baby wipes and the one hundred and one essentials a modern mother needed. “I think it’s finished.”

But she had thought so before then changed her mind. It was part of the nervous tension humming through her, a bit like the bridezilla thing, only with babies.

Feeling suddenly breathless, Eva walked to the window—although with her very large bump, walking was more like a waddle—and pushed it wide, letting in the early summer air. It was so hot, she was burning up. She also felt as big as a bus, probably because labor was a couple of days overdue, and if she put on any more weight she would explode.

She tried to take a deep breath, but these days breathing deeply didn’t happen, no matter how much she needed the oxygen. She attempted to give Kyle a serene, in-control look. “Why are you home early?”

“I thought I should be here, just in case.” He frowned. “Maybe you should sit down, or better still, lie down.”

Eva tried for a smooth, professional smile. The only problem was, deep down, she was a bundle of nerves. “I was sitting down before. I hate lying down.” Who could know that even lying down would be difficult when pregnant?

Abandoning his relaxed position, Kyle came to stand at the window with her. Placing his arm gently around what used to be her waist, he leaned down and kissed her. As soft and tender as it was, it was a distinctly sideways kiss. Her stomach was so large now that any approach from the front was doomed.

“Is your bag packed?”

She shifted so that she was leaning back against Kyle, his arms around her. It was the only comfortable way to hug. She let out a breath, soothed by his presence. Somehow, when Kyle arrived, all of her fretful stressing melted away. “I’ve been packed for weeks.”

“Good, because I’m taking you to the hospital. Now.”

“You knew I was having pains?”

Kyle leaned down and nuzzled her neck. “Of course I knew,” he growled.

She smiled delightedly at a phenomenon that still took her by surprise, and which she had never thought would affect a macho, manly guy like Kyle. She met his gaze in his reflection in the window. “You’re having them, too.”

“My secretary thinks it’s hilarious.”

She had a moment to consider that, as crazy as it was that Kyle was experiencing some part of her discomfort, it was just another sign of how well they fit together. She had expected to feel passion and desire and all the turbulent depths of being in love with Kyle; what she hadn’t expected was the warm, close companionship that had steadily grown. They weren’t just husband and wife, they were best friends.

She placed her hands over his, holding his palms spread over her stomach. Almost instantly there was a sharp kick and she held her breath, riveted by Kyle’s absorbed expression. “I won’t tell your family...for a price.”

“Too late,” he muttered grimly. “Francesca knows. That’s the same as saying everyone in the family knows. Constantine rang me up today to say it was okay to feel pains. Apparently it runs in the male line.”

She hesitated then decided to ask. “You didn’t feel them...before?”

The look he gave her was surprised. “No.”

Happiness filled her at the relaxed, neutral way Kyle had answered a question about the child he had lost, because that, too, was a sign of healing. Thankfully, the guilt that had seared him finally seemed to have been exorcised.

A pain that was sharper and more prolonged than the one before made her stiffen. Concerned, Kyle helped her to the bedroom, but she refused to lie down. The bed, as comfortable and gorgeous as it was, was her nemesis. Once she got on it, she felt like a beached whale. She practically needed a crane to haul herself out.

Another pain hit her, and Kyle went white. “That’s it. I’m calling the hospital. We’re going now.”

* * *

It wasn’t a hospital so much as a private clinic because, before the police had managed to charge Ferris after they had found her laptop in his house, he had sold a story about her to a Sunday paper, and now there was a media problem. When the original story had broken, Kyle had decided it was as good a time as any to do what they had planned and fund a charity for disabled children. Unfortunately, instead of neutralizing the story, it had only seemed to whet the appetite of the media. But in a good way, and they had begun actively following her pregnancy. Now, apparently, she even had an online fan club.

Eva tried to get comfortable in Kyle’s Maserati as he drove through the gates of the clinic. Thick, subtropical plantings lined the driveway, closing out any view of the rolling hill country or the sea, which she knew had to be just a couple of miles away. They weren’t that far from Auckland, but the isolation seemed eerily complete.

Kyle parked in front of the double doors of a facility that, situated as it was in a mass of towering tropical growth, looked more like the set for Jurassic Park than a hospital, and helped her out.

Feeling grumpy and emotional the closer she got to giving birth, Eva leaned on Kyle, because she now had weird pains shooting up her legs, although secretly she loved it that he fussed around her.

An orderly strolled down a shallow ramp with a wheelchair. Eva ignored Kyle’s impatience when she didn’t immediately maneuver herself into the chair. Instead, she concentrated on dragging her handbag out of the Maserati, annoyed that evidently Kyle didn’t think she needed this last bastion of her femininity. Grimly, she noted that given that she was now shaped like a bubble, the bag was possibly the only verifiable sign that she was female. Hugging to herself the pretty pink leather tote with cute tassels and sparkling diamanté stuck to the side, she pretended the wheelchair was invisible and shuffled right by it.

Kyle kept pace with her, his expression carefully blank, as if he was dealing with a mental patient. “You should have gotten in the wheelchair.”

“I want to walk. I need the exercise.”

A series of cramps hit her. She’d had cramps on and off for weeks now. Someone had named them Braxton-Hicks cramps, because they were supposed to be practice contractions that prepared the body for labor. The Braxton-Hicks episodes had been interspersed by two sessions of false labor but, so far, no result. As far as she was concerned, Braxton-Hicks was a liar, and she had been in labor for a month. Who knew if these were finally the real thing?

She shuffled a few more steps, aiming at the front door when one of her dizzy turns hit. Head spinning, she found herself veering into the large patch of tropical bush that loomed over the front entrance. Kyle caught her before she stumbled into the weird little forest and disappeared forever. He muttered something short beneath his breath that she was pretty sure was a curse word and swung her into his arms.

“You should put me down,” she muttered fretfully. “I must weigh two hundred pounds.”

“No sweat.” She caught the edge of a grin. “I bench press that much most days.”

She thumped his shoulder, but desisted when she almost dropped her bag. It contained her makeup, a magazine, some low-sugar snacks and her phone which, judging from this place, over the next few days could be her only link to civilization.

The front doors slid open. A cool, air-conditioned current washed over her. “Okay, you can put me down now.”

“No.”

Feeling disempowered because he wouldn’t put her down and tired of being huge and heavy and vulnerable, she muttered the direst threat she could come up with. “That’s it. You just lost any say in names.”

Infuriatingly, that didn’t seem to make an impact. “As long as it’s not Tempeste or Maverick I can live with that.”

She tried not to let the fact that he didn’t care about the names get to her. “Why are you so happy?”

He lowered her into the wheelchair, which the orderly had anxiously inserted into the space below her body, but by now she was in too much pain to protest. She was beginning to think that her body had finally given up practicing and was actually going to give birth.

Kyle bent down, one hand on either rest, corralling her. His face was taut, and she dimly remembered that he was experiencing at least something of these pains himself.

He kissed her, surprising her into silence. “I’m happy because after today the waiting will be over, we’ll finally be a family.” His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “And because we don’t have to be pregnant again.”

Another sharp pain hit her as he steered the wheelchair to the receptionist’s desk. The woman behind it gave Kyle a concerned look, but Eva was suddenly distracted by a suspicious warmth. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought her waters might have broken. Either that or she’d had another one of those annoying little accidents. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

Kyle gave her a narrow-eyed look, as if he suspected her of hiding something from him. As if.

He had a quick-fire conversation with the receptionist then finally wheeled her in the direction of the bathrooms. She pointed at the ladies, but he totally ignored her, wheeling her into the disabled bathroom.

She sent him an outraged look when he didn’t leave. “You can’t come in here.”

“You’re in labor. You need help.”

“No. I want to do this one thing by myself.”

She might have been talking to a rock. With easy strength he helped her out of the chair.

When he saw the wet patch, he said another one of his cuss words. “Why didn’t you say your waters had broken?”

Face flaming, she let him help her out of the wheelchair. “How would I know? It’s not as if I’ve ever had a baby before.”

Kyle’s expression was grim as he helped her in the direction of the toilet.

When she was finished, Kyle helped her back into the chair and wheeled her out into the corridor. Within seconds another pain hit, this one severe enough that she was finally glad to be in the chair.

When Kyle wheeled her into her room, both a doctor and a midwife were waiting for them. She was already in active labor, and the pain was quite intense. Eva did her best to ride through the pain, silently begging for the fastest delivery possible

It was forty-five minutes.

When Kyle, who had stripped off his suit jacket and tie and rolled up his shirtsleeves so he could pace better, realized that she was in too much pain to be even remotely interested in conversation, his face went white. Stepping out into the corridor, he snapped out a curt series of commands, including a demand for pain relief.

Within seconds the room was full of people. Another lightning examination, this time by the midwife, and Eva found herself transferred to a gurney and wheeled into the delivery suite.

With walls that were a soothing aqua, and soft background music playing, it should have been an oasis of reassuring calm, but Eva barely noticed her surroundings. All of her attention was focused on what was happening at the center of her body and how much it hurt. Somehow, all of the literature she had read had managed to gloss over this part.

Kyle’s arm came around her, a hard-muscled band of strength that in those moments she desperately needed. A cramp gripped her that was so prolonged and intense she couldn’t breathe. Kyle’s gaze locked with hers and for a precious few seconds they were bound together in commiseration.

Her fingers tightened on Kyle’s as a powerful tingling surge gripped her, wiping her mind clean of anything but the sudden, irresistible urge to push. There was a brief hiatus then another series of surges, which squeezed all the breath from her lungs until, in a rush, the baby was born.

Eva floated in exhausted silence, watching, dazed, as the midwife cut the cord, wrapped her tiny baby girl in a cuddly white wrap and placed her in Kyle’s hands. His gaze bright blue and indescribably soft, Kyle cradled their daughter as if she was made of fragile spun glass and placed her in Eva’s arms. Wonderingly, she looked into her baby’s small, perfect face, the tufts of damp hair clinging to her head, and fell in instant love. The bed depressed as Kyle sat beside her. She felt the warmth of his arm wrap protectively around her shoulders.

Reaching out a forefinger, he gently touched his daughter’s cheek. One tiny starfish hand latched around his finger, and Kyle froze in place. Eva’s heart squeezed tight at Kyle’s careful stillness, the way his gaze was riveted on the fierce grip of his daughter, and another wave of pure love and connection hit her, this time for Kyle.

He would be a wonderful father. She had seen it in his patience with her, his quiet tolerance of the mood swings that had hit her, his absorption with all the aspects of her pregnancy. It wasn’t just that her hormones had been running riot. It had been an emotional time of processing the past, of letting go and forming a new future together.

Another contraction grounded Eva with a thump. The midwife hurriedly took their daughter. A few minutes later the unutterable gift that had shaken them when cheerfully announced by her doctor months earlier, their second child, was born. It was a boy.

The midwife placed their son in Kyle’s arms and Eva gave herself over to joy.

Twins: a boy and a girl. Even though twins ran on both sides of their families, it had been so much more than they had hoped for.

Kyle called his family to let them know the good news. He asked everyone to give them some space, but that was like asking waves to stop pounding on the beach.

The Messena and Atraeus families were like a force of nature. They arrived throughout the day: Luisa with Sophie and Francesca; Gabriel and Gemma; Nick and Elena; Damian and Sky; and a little later on Constantine and Sienna, who had flown in from Sydney where they were holidaying. They had all admired and held the babies and showered her with beautiful gifts and filled her room with flowers.

Later on that evening, when everyone had left, Grace Megan woke up, her cry distinctively high-pitched. Benedict Mario soon joined in, although his cry was more of a bellow.

Kyle handed her Grace then cradled Benedict. Both babies were on the small side, around six pounds each, but they were perfect.

Closing her eyes, Eva whispered a prayer of thanks. Somehow, out of Mario’s well-meant interference, she had gained everything she had wanted and more: a perfect husband and a perfect family.

* * * * *

If you liked NEEDED: ONE CONVENIENT HUSBAND, don’t miss the other PEARL HOUSE books from Fiona Brand:

Business and passion collide when two dynasties forge ties bound by love!

A BREATHLESS BRIDE
A TANGLED AFFAIR
A PERFECT HUSBAND
THE FIANCÉE CHARADE
JUST ONE MORE NIGHT

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