Baby Surprises 7 Book Box Set

by Layla Valentine

  He nods. Alex doesn’t agree with my decision to wait to find out the children’s sexes, but he respects it. I’m the mother, he says, and I should be allowed to make that choice. I don’t necessarily agree that my voice has to be the dominant one in that decision, but the way he defers to me makes me feel honored and special.

  “I’ve thought of some old family names,” he says. “Vito for a boy, Marianna for a girl.”

  “Who were Vito and Marianna?”

  “My great-grandparents on my mother’s side,” he says. “It’s always strange to me that my father’s side of the family is so well remembered, such a strong lineage, and my mother’s side is basically lost to history. Bringing them forward would mean something to me.”

  “I can understand that,” I say, thinking about my own parents and how they’re never mentioned in any of the press about Royal Blue, or about Alex and me. It feels strange that the entire world cares about us and no one cares about the people who are most important to me. It feels like an oversight.

  Suddenly I wish I could name the babies after my own parents, bring their names into the spotlight a little and help them be remembered as a part of history. But I know our first instinct on the matter is right. The children should have Avaranian names.

  I feel a bit of tension in my back and shift on the bench, adjusting my position and trying to find and stretch the muscle that’s causing pain. Beside me, Alex seems to sense my discomfort.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah, just something…ow.”

  “What is it?” he asks, brow furrowed, his eyes filled with concern.

  “It’s nothing,” I assure him. “A little back spasm, that’s all.”

  “All right.” Alex gets to his feet. “I really think it’s time we got you back to the house.”

  “I’m fine,” I say. “I can hear a fountain. I want to see it.”

  “You can see the fountain anytime.”

  He braces me, hands under my elbows, and lifts. It’s the method we’ve developed in the last few weeks for getting me on my feet in public, when it’s not appropriate for me to roll and contort my body and grunt my way upright.

  I rise, not protesting, because I do want to see that fountain. I’m ready to defy him and keep moving, but as soon as my feet are under me the pain sharpens and I’m hit with a burst of it so sharp that my vision whites out for a moment.

  “Erica!”

  I feel Alex’s arm around me, hard against my back. I’m about to tell him to be gentle when the world tilts and I realize he’s holding me upright. It’s not Alex putting that pressure on me, it’s gravity.

  The pain tears through me again. I force my eyes to focus and look up at Alex. He’s staring down at me, an expression of panic etched into his face. I’ve never seen him look afraid like this.

  “What’s wrong?” he begs.

  “Something hurts.” I cling to his arm and my vision blurs as pain radiates through me. “The babies, Alex, the babies…”

  “What about the babies?” He sounds frantic. His hands are moving over me now, one pausing on my forehead to check for fever, one moving to my belly to feel for any movement or sign from our babies, an arm now sliding around my back to hold me upright. “What’s wrong with them? What’s going on?”

  And I know what’s going on, even though it can’t be what’s going on, even though it’s too soon for this and totally not how we planned it. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I’m frightened and overwhelmed and at the home of Duke Enzo, of all people—why did we have to come here tonight? Why couldn’t we have just stayed home?

  I look up at Alex, doubling over a bit as another wave of pain takes me. “It’s happening,” I gasp. “The babies are coming now.”

  He shakes his head vigorously. “No. No, they’re supposed to be born in two weeks. It’s what we planned. It’s the plan.”

  He sounds so stunned, so ready to argue the point, and I want to yell at him and kiss him at the same time because I love him so much and yet how can he think this is something that can be argued with? He can’t tell our babies to wait. They’re coming now.

  “We need to get to the hospital,” I tell him. “Oh, God, Alex, this really hurts.”

  That spurs him. “Okay,” he says. “I’ve got you. It’s okay, Erica. Let’s get back into the house. And then we’ll have someone drive us.”

  I’m so relieved that he’s not arguing that we should send for the private doctors. The birthing suite we planned to use is all set up in the palace, but we’re not at the palace now, and the last thing I want is to give birth on Enzo Gosar’s living room floor. I want a hospital, with doctors and drugs and the reassuring voices of nurses coming and going in their clinical scrubs. I want to be in a place where the strange and painful things that are happening to my body are seen as standard, everyday events.

  The walk back to the house seems to take forever, even though it would ordinarily take a matter of minutes. Every few feet, it seems, I’m stopping, my knees weak with pain.

  I’m lightheaded, unable to focus clearly on much of what’s going on around me. I’m aware of the intense pain, yes—can’t help but notice that—and of Alex’s voice, penetrating the fog of agony. The fear has gone now. He’s steady, stable, sure.

  And I know he’s just putting it on. I know he’s being brave for my sake, because he was terrified just a few minutes ago and nothing has changed since then. I know it’s an act, but he plays his part so well that I’m buying it completely. The confidence in his voice fills me with strength. Everything is going to be fine. We’re just going to go up to the house, and then we’ll drive to the hospital, and then everything will be fine.

  Alex leads me through the back door and into the reception room at the rear of the house, which opens onto the parlor where everyone is enjoying after-dinner drinks. There’s a commotion as we enter the room. Queen Filippa jumps to her feet and hurries to my side.

  “Alessandro, my goodness, what’s wrong with her? She’s gone pale!”

  “She’s in labor,” Alex says, and another twist of agony drives away any embarrassment I might have felt.

  The family all jump to their feet, and Queen Filippa helps Alex guide me over to the couch. It doesn’t feel better to be off my feet. I feel like I should be doing something, like there’s some kind of movement that would ease the pain I’m feeling.

  Alex smooths my hair back. “We need to take her to the hospital,” he says. “Can someone drive us? I want to stay with her.”

  But Giovanna shakes her head. “It’s too late for that, Alex. This is happening fast. I don’t think she’s going to make it to the hospital.”

  “I have to go to a hospital!” I protest. “What are you talking about—” but I’m cut off by the sharpest pain yet. It makes me cry out and sit up a bit on the couch, and Alex grabs my shoulders and looks up at his mother for help.

  Queen Filippa kneels beside me.

  “It’s all right, Erica,” she says quietly. “Giovanna’s right. We’re about an hour away for the hospital, and your contractions are too close together. I think this is going to happen right here.”

  “No…” This is unbelievable. This is horrifying. “The babies. They need a doctor.”

  Queen Filippa turns to her husband. “Run and call an ambulance,” she says. “Make sure they know it’s the royal babies. Tell them to get out here as soon as possible.” Then she addresses Alex. “You keep her calm,” she says. “Enzo, go get some ice for her to suck on. Giovanna, you help me.”

  “What are you going to do?” I ask, my voice wavering all over the place.

  “We’re going to deliver those babies,” Filippa says. She is firm, commanding, and her tone gives me some of my confidence back. “It’s going to be fine, Erica, you hear me? Your body was made to do this.”

  “But I need a doctor. We had a plan—”

  “I know,” she says, meeting my eyes. “I know you’re afraid. This is scary. It’s okay. A
lex is here with you, and Giovanna and I are going to help you, and everything is going to be okay. Your babies are going to be born tonight. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  She’s so utterly in control. She’s masterful. I can’t help but trust her.

  “First things first,” Filippa says. “We need to get her down to the floor. Alex—”

  He doesn’t wait to be told. He takes me in his arms and lifts me—actually lifts me, heavy and cumbersome as I am with the weight of the twins—down from the couch to the floor. Giovanna passes him a pillow and he places it under my head. Kneeling behind me, he leans forward to plant a soft kiss on my forehead.

  “You’re doing great,” he says quietly. “You’re handling this like a champion. I’m so proud of you.”

  “I just want them to be okay,” I say. I feel like crying. “We had a plan, Alex.”

  “I know, my love. But none of this has gone according to plan. We didn’t plan for these babies, did we? We didn’t plan to fall in love.” He squeezes my hand. “The most beautiful things in my life have happened when my plans were disrupted.”

  I laugh shakily.

  “Won’t this make a good story someday?” he asks, his lips caressing my skin. “We’ll tell our children about the way they were born, here at Great Uncle Enzo’s house, because they were so ready to join the world they couldn’t wait even two more weeks.”

  And at those words, for the first time since this ordeal began, I feel a surge of true joy. My babies are coming. Before the night is over, I’ll hold them in my arms.

  I can’t wait.

  Chapter 23

  I’d expected to writhe and sweat and push for hours into the night, but the birth happens remarkably quickly. Filippa and Giovanna can’t stop exclaiming about how brief my labor was, how lucky I am. I’m sure they’re right, but I can’t give any attention to that because I have two beautiful babies in my arms.

  I’m sitting upright, propped against Alex, exhausted but elated. My daughter is asleep, nestled into the crook of my right arm. My son is awake and alert, waving a tiny fist in the air as if demanding to be noticed.

  “I see you,” I whisper. “I see you, sweetheart.”

  Alex kisses my cheek, my temple, the spot behind my ear, and tells me what a wonderful job I did and how much he loves me.

  I can’t look away from my children’s faces. They are so beautiful. They’re the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.

  I almost don’t notice when Alex steps away from me to speak to his mother. A moment later she’s shooing the rest of the family out of the room, quietly but insistently pressing Enzo and Donato out the door. They both look over their shoulders for one last glimpse of the babies before they go. I can’t say I blame them.

  Alex comes over and sits beside me. “I thought it would be nice if we had some time alone. Just the four of us.”

  “Thank you.” I rest my head on his shoulder.

  “Are you doing all right?” he asks.

  “I think so. I feel fine.”

  “That could just be adrenaline, though,” he says. “I’m going to have the doctors look you over when they arrive.”

  “Whatever you want.” I’d agree to anything right now. I’ve never been in this good a mood in all my life. “Look at them. Who do you think they look like? Me or you?”

  He smiles softly. “All babies kind of look the same, in my opinion. I imagine we’ll see the distinguishing features more as they get older.”

  As they get older.

  Of course, I’ve thought of my children at various ages, but this is the first time it’s occurred to me since they were born. They’re going to grow up. The tiny people in my arms are going to be three-year-olds, and five-year-olds, and twelve-year-olds, and adults. They’re going to have lives full of love and adventure. What a strange, amazing idea. I look down at my baby girl and try to imagine what her future holds, but the possibilities are too vast. I’m so lucky I get to go on the journey with them, to see what they become.

  “So,” Alex says, “a boy and a girl.”

  “Vito and Marianna?”

  “If you like it?”

  “I do,” I say. “They’re beautiful names.”

  He beams at me. “Thank you. It means a lot to me. And I had a thought.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, even though we agreed on Avaranian names because of their royal status, it doesn’t seem fair not to have your family and culture represented. I wondered if you had some family names you’d like to give them as middle names.”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,” I say. “That’s a great idea, Alex. Thank you.”

  He reaches over and lifts the boy out of my arms, allowing me to cradle our daughter closer.

  “So what names will you give them?”

  “My own grandparents, I think,” I say. “That makes sense. My mother’s parents as well.”

  “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “Marianna Lynn,” I say, kissing her gently on the forehead, “and “Vito Paul.”

  “Marianna Lynn and Vito Paul Gosar. Heirs to the throne of Avaran.”

  There’s a knock at the door.

  “The doctors are here, Alessandro,” his mother calls.

  Alex hops to his feet and shows the doctors into the room. I’m reluctant to part with my babies long enough to be checked over, but I allow it so everyone’s mind will be put at ease, and soon enough the doctors declare that I’m doing fine. My primary concern is for the babies, but they both receive clean bills of health too. The doctors are polite, discreet, and gone as readily as they arrived.

  As the doctors depart, the rest of the family sidles back into the room. Alex notices them lurking and rolls his eyes.

  “Come in, then,” he says, waving them forward. “Don’t just stand there. The doctors say everyone is healthy. Come meet the children.”

  They file back into the room and find seats. I feel strange lying on the floor in the middle of the circle of people in formal wear. The doctors gave me a gown to put on, thankfully, so my ruined dress is gone and I’m comfortable, but I can’t help noticing that everyone around me is still in their evening gowns and tuxedos.

  Alex’s family, however, only has eyes for our babies. The doctors have wrapped the twins in blankets like little burritos and put hats on their heads, and they’re both fast asleep now. Alex hands Vito to his father, and I reluctantly pass Marianna to Filippa.

  “She looks just like you,” Alex’s mother says. “Those eyes, and that little chin dimple. She’ll be a beauty.”

  “Let me see.” Her husband looks over her shoulder. “Oh, she’s pure Alessandro, you’re right about that. She’s got my father’s genes!”

  “I think he looks more like his mother,” Filippa says, looking from Vito to me. “Do you see it? The face shape?”

  “Not to mention his eyes,” Enzo says. “They’re so light, look. Just like Erica’s.”

  I lean back, resting my head on Alex’s shoulder, and close my eyes. I’m overcome with exhaustion, suddenly, and very aware that I’m sitting on the floor. I want to let myself drift off to sleep, but I know this is not the place to do it.

  “We should get back to the palace,” Alex murmurs, his hand grazing up and down my arm.

  “You’re not going back tonight,” Enzo objects.

  “Of course not,” Giovanna agrees. “Do you think we’d have you just get in your car and drive home? Do you even have car seats for those babies?”

  I have to admit we don’t. It’s not something I thought about. I was supposed to deliver at home, and I saw no reason why the babies would need to leave the palace for a good long time. We’d need car seats eventually, but not right away.

  “We’ll send someone out to buy some,” Giovanna says. “But all of you will stay here tonight. You’ll be our guests. We insist. Alessandro, you and Erica can take the blue room on the ground floor, will that be all right? Erica probably sho
uldn’t be taking the stairs right now. And we still have the bassinets from when our children were born. We’ll bring them in for you to use.”

  “Thank you,” Alex says. “That’s very gracious.”

  “You’re family,” Enzo says gruffly. “Of course we want to do our part.”

  Alex helps me to my feet, then sweeps me into his arms. I don’t need his help to walk, but I appreciate his touch, anchoring me and making me feel safe.

  He shoulders open a door at the end of a long hall. The room is painted pale grey, with navy window hangings and bedspread.

  “The blue room,” he announces, depositing me gently on the bed.”

  “Mmm.”

  It’s nice, but I’m almost too tired to think. I settle into the soft mattress, the warm blankets, and let the obviously expensive pillows cradle my head as I sink down, down into sleep.

  Before I know it, I’m waking up with a start. I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep.

  “Where are the babies?” I ask, panic in my voice.

  “They’re right here,” Alex says.

  He pulls a pair of bassinets up alongside the bed so I can look down into them. Both children are fast asleep now.

  “I can’t believe they’re really here,” I say quietly watching them sleep. “I feel like we’ve been waiting forever for them.”

  Alex slides up onto the bed behind me and wraps an arm around me. My body feels different, strange, now that the babies are out and on their own, but his touch is soothing and familiar.

  “I feel just the opposite,” he admits. “I feel like I just learned I was going to be a father yesterday, and now they’re already here. This has happened so fast.”

  I close my eyes and let myself drift for a minute, half awake, listening to the precious sounds my children make in their sleep, enjoying the feel of Alex’s hand on my hip. I feel myself trying to sink deeper into sleep, but I hold on. I need to watch the babies. I need to make sure they’re okay, now that I’m no longer holding them safe inside me.

  A loud pop explodes through the silence, jerking me fully alert. I bolt up in Alex’s arms, but he catches me and eases me back down.