Page 28 of Captive in His Castle (The Martinelli Wedding #1)

A sharp tightening in her abdomen woke Callie from the light sleep it had taken her an age to fall into. Beside her, sleeping for the dead, her husband.

Rolling carefully from her side to her back, she pressed a hand to where the pain was most concentrated.

Her stomach had sucked itself in. Not a technical term but, for Callie, the term that best described how her stomach wrapped itself almost like clingfilm around her babies when they gave the first signs they were ready to come out and greet the world.

She lay there for another hour, watching early morning light filter through the heavy drapes of their four-poster as she counted the minutes between each contraction.

Fifteen-minute intervals quickly became ten and by the time the first hour passed, had reduced to seven.

Quicker than the contractions in her first two births.

Lightly, she pressed her hand to Dante’s head and brushed her fingers through his thick hair.

His eyes opened.

She smiled. “Ready to be a dad again?”

He lifted his head, blinking rapidly. “It is time? ”

“Yep.”

As she’d predicted, he shot upright like a bullet and went straight into semi-controlled panic mode.

She let him run around their bedroom naked for a few minutes, gathering the bags that were already packed for the hospital, calling his parents in their private quarters to tell them the baby was coming and they were needed to look after their granddaughters right now , then calling the private hospital to tell them Callie Coscarelli would be with them imminently and that they’d better have all the pain relief she needed and wanted on hand, and then calling the winery manager to tell him he was in sole charge for the foreseeable future.

If Callie hadn’t stopped conducting the tours of the castle when she’d got to seven months into the pregnancy, he would no doubt have called her assistant too.

“Done?” she asked when he finally remembered to throw some clothes on. Not that she was complaining. Even after eight years of marriage, Dante’s glorious physique never failed to take her breath away.

He gave a sheepish grin and bounded back to the bed. The birth of their children never failed to turn him into Tigger, but when he sat on the edge of the bed and brought his face to hers, it was with a kiss of tenderness and love. “Ready?”

She nodded and stroked his stubbly cheek. “I love you.”

“Not as much as I love you.” He kissed her again. “Let’s go meet our new baby.”

THE END