Page 49 of Vows to a King
A long exhale left him, making his shoulders straighten out. His blue gaze swept over her and the bed. “Where are they?”
Jemima pointed to the two bassinets that were out of sight from where he stood. “Shall I call the nurses?” she asked, giving him a choice.
“No,” he bit out. Then marching to the small sink tucked into an alcove, he washed his hands, wiped them on a fresh napkin.
Jemima blinked back tears as he bent and picked up their daughter first, his movements incredibly gentle. The sight of that tiny babe in his arms made her heart thud and her ovaries—already strained to the limit, melt. At least that’s what that sensation felt like.
“She has your eyes,” he said, lifting one tiny fist to his mouth. His eyes were wide, full of awe as he took her in, a feeling Jemima knew very well. “All sharp and wide and drilling into one’s soul.”
Jemima laughed, her heart expanding to a dangerous size in her chest. It felt impossible to contain the happiness that inflated her from within. “And she has your nose, the great Vasilikos beak.”
“Remind me to tell Adamos that. He promises,” Adonis choked a little, “to be the best uncle he can be.”
“Whenever he’s ready,” Jemima said, meeting her husband’s eyes. The fact that Prince Adamos wasn’t adjusting very well to his half-blindness wasn’t altogether a surprise. Although, Jemima had a feeling it was Queen Calista that prodded and poked at him as if he were a grouchy bear. Time would only tell if Adamos would see that the young queen was exactly what he needed.
“I told him the same,” Adonis said, his smile touching his eyes.
Their baby girl cooed, and stretched and pressed her chubby fists into her papa’s angular cheeks as he brought her over. “Papa loves you, Ileana, so much.” His very heart seemed to reverberate in his words.
As if she could understand the sentiment, Ileana gave her papa a rare, toothless grin that disappeared as fast as it had come.
Adonis looked as if he had conquered the range of mountains that dotted Thalassos’s perimeter.
Leaning down, he transferred her, ever so gently, into Jemima’s waiting arms. Then when she had their beautiful little girl all secure, he captured her lips in a tender, soul-stripping kiss. The taste of him, minty and male and devastatingly familiar, flew through Jemima, bolstering her faith in them all over.
Clasping his cheek with her free hand, she leaned into his kiss, needing it as much as he did. When the kiss turned salty, Jemima realized her husband was crying. Her own eyes filled up suddenly.
“She’s perfect,” Adonis said, pulling away, one long finger grazing against the tiny head. “Just like her mama.”
Their daughter watched with saucer-like eyes while he kissed her mama again.
A wail—loud and clanging, erupted into the fraught silence, making Adonis jerk away from her. Jemima laughed at the horrified expression on his face.
“That, my darling, is your son, letting the entire palace know of his displeasure.”
“What does he need?” Adonis said, straightening with a sudden urgency.
“Either his nappy is wet or he’s hungry or he’s just generally displeased with the world,” Jemima said, still smiling. “Sometimes he’ll smile at one nurse while he glares at the other. He gets cranky with hunger but won’t drink properly. He has neither the patience nor the happy nature of his sister. Your son is going to be quite the handful, and I believe is going to need all the discipline we can manage.”
Adonis covered the ground to their son’s bassinet in quick strides. He checked Ajax’s nappy, scrunched his face, and changed it easily, as if he had done it a thousand times before.
Jemima’s breath caught in her throat. “I wish I had my phone to record it. The King changing a dirty nappy.”
Adonis lifted the infant to his chest, pride shimmering in his eyes. “I did say I would be a hands-on father, didn’t I?”
Even from the distance, Jemima could see her son’s blue gaze study his papa with the same wonder as his papa showed him. “Many men apparently make those kinds of claims.” Then before he could protest, she raised her hand. “I do agree that you’re unlike any man I’ve known, Your Majesty.”
“Exactly,” Adonis said, pressing his mouth to their son’s temple.
Ajax clearly didn’t like the stubble on his papa’s jaw for he squirmed and screamed and generally made his displeasure known. Uncowed by it, Adonis tucked him up against his chest. “And there will be no disciplining either of them, Jemima.”
“You can’t mean that?”
“I do,” Adonis said, reaching her. With easy grace, he tucked himself into the bed, by her side. “My children, even this one with his temper,” he said, kissing their son’s forehead, “are going to grow up untethered like free birds. No one is going to stop them from exploring the world, the skies, the mountains itself if they wish.”
“And if they fall?” Jemima said, heart in her throat at the wonder that was her husband, her king.
“If they fall, we will catch, Jem. But whatever they do or want, they will never doubt my love for them.”
“So I’m going to have three devils to contend with instead of one,” she said, grinning.
“Ahh…but you’re so good at leashing us,agapi mou,” he said, leaning toward her. “I do not believe for one second that you will struggle with us three.”
There was no need to reply because Adonis took her mouth in a soft, blisteringly slow kiss that drenched her in his love.
Not that their children gave them more than two minutes to indulge in it.
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