Home > His Heir, Her Honor (Rich, Rugged And Royal #3)(39)

His Heir, Her Honor (Rich, Rugged And Royal #3)(39)
Author: Catherine Mann

And he wouldn’t stop until she believed him.

Lilah was certain she must be dreaming. Otherwise, how could she be looking into a face full of love?

But the hard church pew hurting her hip felt uncomfortably real enough. She blinked fast to clear her eyes and still Carlos sat beside her, his arms crossed as if he’d been waiting for her to wake. The scent of knotty pine pervaded the chapel. The warm wood walls and rafters remained unvarnished, reminding her of the cabin in Vail where she and Carlos had started this journey.

Sitting up, she scraped her hair back from her face. “Carlos? How long have you been here? Is everything all right with your father and Antonio?”

It must be okay or he wouldn’t look so…at peace. “Everyone is fine, all asleep in fact. It’s been a long few days. But that’s no excuse for the way I handled things with you.”

Her heart tripped over itself, but she couldn’t allow herself to turn to mush. She needed something more from him this time. She couldn’t settle for half measures and avoidance of what really mattered. Her baby deserved better.

She deserved better. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Going to make me work for this, are you? Good for you.” He lifted her left hand, thumbing her wedding rings. “I’ve messed this up from the start, from the way I ran scared from how I felt about you to the way I asked you to marry me. I’m sorry for that. More sorry than can be put into words, but I’m going to try my best.”

“Words are good.” They both were such workaholic, type A people, neither of them had slowed down long enough to say some important things along the way. Hope built inside her. She’d slept away some of the anger, enough to listen with a more open heart.

He skimmed a kiss over her knuckles. “I want to be your husband now and always. Not because of my father, but because my life is so empty without you. I will be here for you and our baby every day of my life. I can’t promise not to brood, but I vow to share all those brooding thoughts.”

The deep tone of commitment in his voice, in his words, bowled her over. This was so much more than she’d ever expected, more than she’d dreamed she might find with such a reserved man.

“Brooding is okay every now and again.” She squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue. After waiting so long for a sign from him, she intended to soak up every second of this.

“I appreciate the way you keep me from sinking too far into that abyss. From losing myself in my work until I’m no good to anyone.” His deep voice rumbled low, echoing gently around the empty chapel. “More than my lover, my wife, the mother of my child, you are my friend. You’re the one person standing between me and a life of supreme loneliness.”

Happy tears clogged her throat for a moment before she could push words free. “Wow, for a man of few words, you’re quite poetic when you choose to be. Perhaps some of that artist in you is showing as it does when you play the piano.”

“After being scared to death over the thought of losing you, I’m finding it much easier than I expected to be poetic for the woman I love.”

Love.

Of all the words he could have chosen, that was the one she needed to hear most. The one she wasn’t sure he would ever voice. But as she looked at the emotion burning strong in his eyes, she didn’t doubt him for a second.

“Carlos, I wish I could offer words as beautiful as yours, but right now all I can think about is how relieved I am that we figured this out, that we got it right, because I love you too.”

She cradled his face, savoring the bristle of his unshaven cheek, the curve of his smile against her touch. And as she tipped her forehead to his, forging a connection she knew would last a lifetime, she found the right words coming to her. “I adore everything about you, from your brilliant mind to the feel of your hands when we’re together. From the way you remember chocolate mint milkshakes to how you devote your life to your patients when you could have so easily taken an easier path.” She skimmed her mouth over his, whispering softly against his lips. “You are an amazing man, Carlos Medina, and I look forward to loving you for the rest of my life.”

“Exactly what I wanted—but didn’t dare hope—to hear.” He kissed her deeply, reverently, and the honesty in his touch spoke so clearly she wondered why she hadn’t heard it before.

His talented hands stroked down her arms and linked fingers with her. “Will you marry me again?” He gestured to the small, simple altar draped in purple embroidered linens. “Here, now?”

“Of course, my love,” she said to her royal lover, her blessedly human husband. “I will. Or rather I should say I do.”

Epilogue

Eight months later

Carlos walked the floors of his suite in the island mansion, patting his son’s back and singing him to sleep. He wasn’t the lullaby sort, but an old Frank Sinatra tune seemed to work just as well. A couple of verses of “Fly Me to the Moon” and the kid was out like a light.

Cradling his seven-week-old sleeping newborn in his hands, Carlos lowered him carefully into the blue eyelet bassinet but didn’t—couldn’t—step away. Staring at his child had become a favorite pastime of late. Studying the miracle of those perfect hands and feet could keep him mesmerized for a good twenty minutes by this blessing he’d once given up hope of having.

Tiny but long fragile fingers wrapped around Carlos’s thumb. “Maybe we’ve got a future musician in the family with those hands of yours. What do you think, little Enrique?”

Lilah had insisted on naming their child for his grandpa.

The old king had recovered from his transplant surgery with a surprising strength and speed. His will to fight was back in full form so he could walk the beaches with his namesake—and his other new grandchild, Eloisa’s daughter, Ginger.

Both infants were so clearly Medinas they looked like brother and sister with their dark hair and stubborn jawlines. Plans were already in place for all the Medina offspring to know each other well with frequent visits to the island, a pattern already started over the past months as everyone rotated helping the senior Enrique recover.

Little Enrique’s arms relaxed as he settled into deeper slumber. Carlos grinned over how well he could already read his son’s cues. Lilah had opted to take a year’s leave from her hospital duties, but Carlos made a point of coming home for longer lunches to give his wife a chance to nap. He cherished the time with his son. And he looked forward to time with his wife.

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