“Oh, I missed it.” But she was too excited with the news to care about missing an ultrasound. “So, it’s a boy.”
He couldn’t resist teasing her. “No.”
“A daughter?” She frowned. “But you said he.”
“Since I felt just one foot—or an elbow, it’s he alright,” he said, his voice gruff. He kissed her softly before adding with a huge smile, “But if you must know, we are going to have twins.”
Siobhan pressed her face in his shoulder, her heart light, excited for what was to come, and whispered, “It was all those mints.”
“And here I though it was my virility.” He laughed and squeezed his arms around her.
Life had never looked so bright.
41
Saturday, May 7, 2016
1:00 p.m.
“I wish to formally recognize my half-brother, Javert Romani, as a member of my family. He will have all rights to the Braxton-Lenox family name and should be treated as such, with the same respect and loyalty that my family has enjoyed. Together we shall continue to serve the great people of this kingdom, and will continue to see it as an honor to serve you, as did the generations before us.”
Siobhan watched from the wing as Angus finished his speech and sustained his smile and composure throughout the multitude of questions that were being thrown at him.
The last two weeks had been full of ups and downs; first the shock of Diamanta attempting to kill Angus, to finding out that Javert was Angus’s half-brother. Siobhan felt as if her head was still spinning when her half-brother, Valantín Agustin de Castella y Aragon, and her half-sisters, Angelica and Maria, arrived in Lektenstaten to meet her.
Valantín, a towering man with olive complexion and a stern demeanor, had hugged her and said he was so happy to finally meet his baby sister, but that was all. Quiet and collected, he seemed preoccupied with some serious matters, his eyes scanning his mobile screen every five minutes.
Siobhan was not put off by it.
It was enough to know that Valantín had been trying hard to find her for several years and as soon as he had located her, he had left everything and come to her. Besides, Valantín made her—and Angus—promise to visit Aragon at the first opportunity. Angus had immediately agreed. At Angus’s request, DNA testing was done and no one would ever question her identity: she did have a family of her own now.
Angelica and Maria were a different matter however, and Siobhan, who had never been a fan of polite pretenses, found herself telling them everything about her life, and within the space of a few hours the women were catching up. Siobhan was able to laugh out loud with pleasure when Angelica and Maria were eager to satisfy Siobhan’s curiosity about their half-brother.
While Siobhan and Angus were occupied with their own affairs during the day, at night they held each other close, thankful for their luck and for having one another.
Angus walked toward her, flanked by guards, a grim smile on his face. “How did I do?”
“Fine, just fine,” she said, as they walked away from the press room.
“I just hate that Javert didn’t come.”
Siobhan knew that Javert was hurting deeply at the thought of the destruction his mother had caused. Angus had been a support of sorts for his new brother, and Siobhan had left them more times than she could count over the last few days, hashing out what was to be Javert’s new future.
Though she had nearly killed the both of them, Angus had paid for Diamanta’s quiet and very private funeral despite Javert’s objections, and Siobhan could not be prouder.
And somehow, they had managed to keep the fact that Diamanta had tried to kill them from the press. Ewan had come up with an elaborate plan that had stuck perfectly, saying that the assassin was a foreigner who had gotten away, and their fate was unknown, which was true, to an extent.
“But, you know, I understand. If I were him, I would need at least a month to come to terms with the fact I was related to me.”
“Oh, Dragon, it’s bad, but a month is too much,” she said elbowing him.
“And how would you know this, huh? You are not related to me.”
“Not yet, but in a few hours, I will be,” she answered him with a smile, referring to their wedding, which had been set to take place privately in the palace chapel, with only their families present.
For the time being, they’d had enough exposure to the public and needed some time just being a family. It was something new to all of them.
7:00 p.m.
Siobhan examined her reflection in the dressing closet mirror from every angle.
“Are you ready?” Jaxon asked entering her dressing closet. “You know, it’s good to let your royal lover boy wait a bit, but he is kind of starting to panic—oh, Siobhan! You are stunning.”
“Do you like?” Siobhan pivoted on her feet. “Not too simple for a princess?”
Her empire style dress was a fairy-tale dream of fluid organza styled over matt satin with an exquisite silver bead embroidered belt. A diamond tiara with five large diamond roses separated by diamond sprays sparkled over her raven hair, and, keen not to overdo the frills, she had put Aunt Moira’s small diamond earrings on her ears and nothing else.
He queried her with a wide measuring appraisal, and then he flung back his handsome head and laughed. “You look more regal than any royalty, honey.”
Although Valantín, her half-brother, had wanted to give her away—and Siobhan was glad for it—Jaxon, who had been more than a foster brother to her, was the one who was giving her away. Sure, she had already made room in her heart for her half-siblings, but Jaxon would always be there in first place, as her brother and best friend.
Siobhan was on cloud nine: filled with joy with the family circle she had found and got to know over the past two weeks, and to complete the happiness, she was going to marry the love of her life and father of her children. She couldn’t ask for more.
Siobhan put her hand on Jaxon’s bent arm and smiled. “Let’s put Angus out of his misery.”
42
Braxton-Lenox Mountain House
11:59 p.m.
It wasn’t just physical desire that had Angus so on edge.
He had avoided marriage, saw matrimony as an annoyance, a wife as another person who would nag and prod.
But when Siobhan promised to love him, to comfort him, he felt an electric thrill that ran down his whole body. And when he promised the same, it seemed to seal them together, to bridge the distance between them in a way even the kiss that followed could not.
Now, in their rooms, he repeated his vows in his mind as he waited for her to come out of the bathroom. And then he repeated them out loud in a whisper.
When he heard himself saying: as long as we both shall live, Angus meant the words as literally as could be. All he could think of was the love he felt for her and the love that shone in her eyes as she looked at him. He’d spent his life since Lilian and up until now avoiding love at all costs. And now he intended to spend the remainder of it reacquainting himself with the joys of love with this woman, who had transformed his entire world, and outlook on life.
He rose from the bed impatient to have her in his arms and crossed to the dressing closet, saying, “Siobhan, I thought we might—”
“You thought we might?” she inquired, smiling at him in the mirror.
God, that voice. God, that body.
She was wearing a gown of sheer red fabric, embroidered with black and gold scrollwork that twined suggestively from her hips to her breasts. All too visible through the fabric.
She pivoted on her heels and the fabric swirled around her, giving him flashes of bare skin, long legs.
Was I actually going to suggest we put off our wedding night until we’d had some rest?
“I thought,” he said as his blood rushed south, “that I’d spend the remainder of the evening ravishing you.”
She smiled. “That’s what I thought you were going to say.”
“Look at you.” He
circled her. “Just look at you.”
He took hold of her shoulders and pulled her in for a kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss, lips on lips. It wasn’t even just his body, pressing against hers. He could feel her breaths speed up as his hands slid up her body and cupped her fuller breasts; her nipples hardening as his fingers brushed them.
From her breasts, it was only a short way to that loose ribbon, only a twist of his fingers to undo it and draw the silk down and to find her breast again.
She let the robe fall from her shoulders with a shrug, but pivoted out of his hands to sit on the bed, and crook her finger at him. “Come here, Dragon. I want you.”
They pulled off his shirt together, both of them laughing when his hand got stuck in one cuff and she had to turn it inside out on his wrist to pull it off.
When he’d shed his underwear it lay over a great mass of clothes on the floor, and they couldn’t care less.
She pulled him on the bed and kissed him. Her mouth was hot against his. His cock was hard against her hip.
Skin against skin, she was so warm and vibrant, she enthralled him.
They kissed, his pelvis grinding into hers, and all his dreams, all his most creative imaginings, paled before reality.
He took hold of her hands in his and pressed them together full-length.
“Hello, Husband,” she whispered on his lips.
Any hope he’d had of restraining himself evaporated at that and he plunged into her welcoming depths.
Finally, really, truly she was his. His wife.
She was enough—her body, tightening around his, her hips, her breasts brushing against his chest with every last thrust.
He came hard inside her, his release catching him up in a moment that was as sweet as what he’d wished for.
A surge of warmth and happiness and a strange peace she had never known descended on her as they lay in each other’s arms, watching the stars through the open curtains.
It was more than just a moment of passion. It was the past and future joining hands in a clasp which could not be loosened.
“There are only a few things I remember my father saying,” he said softly and smiled, eyes still on the stars above.
“Yes?”
“One of them was that the greatest thing in a man’s life is to lie with a woman he loves.” He turned his head and smiled at her, overwhelmed by the perfectness of it all. “He was right.”
She touched his face lightly, tracing his nose, his cheekbone, his lips, and then resting her hand over his heart.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I’m not thinking,” she said. “I’m simply…happy.”
Because there were times when one found themselves in perfect harmony with another being.
Like after one had taken a risk, faced their biggest fear, and found themselves blinking in the dust as a wall crumbled before of them.
Like making love to the love of one’s life, followed by the perfect evening of constellation watching.
And he finally understood, despite all the constellations placed in the sky as warning, why all those Greek maidens gave it up in the end.
It was because all the pain endured was nothing compared to what love was worth.
Love was the beginning of everything.
Keep reading to sneak a peek at Royal Affair!
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A Note from The Author
Thank you for reading Royal Love! I hope you enjoyed the love story of Siobhan and Angus.
If you feel so inclined, please recommend this book to a friend and/or post an honest review. Reviews help other readers find new books to enjoy.
It’s easy: drop by on the online story where you bought this book and on Royal Love page, write just a few short words—or a lot of long words, if you wish, I won’t judge. ☺️
You can make a big difference and I’ll be grateful.
Princess Angelica de Castella y Aragon hated weddings.
While she was obviously glad her brother, Valantín, the King of Aragon, had finally found their long-lost sister, Siobhan Faulkner, the bride, and while she was happy for her sister, it didn’t warm her for the celebration.
Her gaze followed her brother out to the dance floor where he was handing Siobhan back to her husband, Angus Augustus Braxton-Lenox, the King of Lektenstaten. The couple smiled at each other as they began to dance again, clearly very much in love.
She wished Siobhan all the luck in the world. But Angelica couldn’t help her twinge of cynicism at seeing them pressed so close together out there on the dance floor. No, not cynicism. Realism. If true love was real and couples stayed together forever, that would be great.
But that wasn’t how things actually worked, she knew, and the statistics didn’t lie. However happily Siobhan and Angus looked at each other today, according to the numbers, it was a fifty-fifty chance whether they would still be married just three years from now.
Believing that you’ve found true love is as crazy as being certain the lottery ticket you’ve just bought is definitely going to be the winner. You can be as certain as you want; it doesn’t change anything.
Angelica shook her head slightly, only too aware that she shouldn’t think like that but having been jilted at the altar didn’t make her sympathetic to those kind of celebrations.
Forget Mr. Right. Let’s find Mr. Right Now and have a little fun.
Angelica plucked a white rose out of the arrangement she was hiding behind and sniffed at it. Relationships were like flower arrangements. Right now, they were beautiful. Perfect. Pristine with a shockingly beautiful scent.
But in a day or two, they would be wilting, messily thrown in a waste bin. People who think otherwise are simply deluding themselves, however sweetly.
“Would you like to dance?”
Angelica turned and looked up to see a fit, sturdy man with a lionesque head, completed with a shock of blond hair and startling blue eyes.
“I’m Ludwig,” he said, with a crooked smile that did funny things to her insides.
Why bother with Mr. Right when Mr. Right Now is gorgeous, available, and asking me to dance?
A little short-term distraction was just what she needed.
“It’s a shame to have great live music like this only for the prettiest woman in the room not to be dancing.” Ludwig didn’t wait for Angelica to reply, but instead pulled her to the dance floor and into his strong arms.
Yes, this is exactly the kind of guy to have a fun fling with. Especially since he seemed to be as willing to act on impulse as she was.
“You still haven’t told me your name,” Ludwig pointed out, twirling her around. “Or should I just go on calling you the prettiest girl in the room?”
It has possibilities. “I’m fairly sure you’re supposed to say that the bride is the best looking woman in the room.” Her voice wasn’t usually that breathless and she cleared her throat.
“Right?”
Then again, she didn’t usually see men this good looking in Aragon—well, apart from Abelardo Gutiérrez, the bastard of her ex-almost-husband—and dance with them, while she was at it.
“She does look good, but then, every woman looks beautiful on her wedding day.”
Uh-oh. Angelica twirled and when she was back again facing him, she asked. “You like weddings?”
“Till death do us part?” He raised his eyebrows at her. “Two people making that kind of commitment to one another is the craziest thing in the world, but if I get to meet lovely women such as you, who am I to complain?”
Phew! Mr. Gorgeous is not a romantic. She smiled and danced closer to him, brushing her hip against his hard leg. “I’m Angelica.”
Guys like that always understood how the game was played and, fortunately, didn’t go around asking for more than Angelica was willing to give.
They ended the dance in front of the newlywed couple.
“I see you met Angus’s cousin, Angelica,” Siobhan grinned.
“Ah, so she is y
our half-sister.” Ludwig smiled at Siobhan. “Well, a loyal one at that. When I told her she was the loveliest woman here, she insisted it was you. In hindsight, she is right.”
“Ludwig is a scoundrel, Angelica. Don’t let him steal your heart.” Angus laughed and was joined by Ludwig and Siobhan.
She felt the intensity of his blue gaze on her and a shiver worked its way up her spine but she threw her head back and joined the laughter. As if there is any danger in that.
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45
Also by Cristiane Serruya
I write suspenseful and heartwarming contemporary romances steeped in luxury, loss, lust, and love. Have you read them all?
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