"No, I want to be there. I want to support you. Let me share the load."
He offered her a faint smile. "Of course."
"Antone...Antone, I love you." She searched his gaze, her heart in her throat.
Releasing one of her hands, he cupped her cheek and pulled her closer. "I love you, too, mi amore. Not because you are the mother of my child or because you are my wife. I love you because you are, and I believe I always will."
Then, at last, the tears that had threatened her for days fell, and Antone flicked them away as he leaned in and kissed her with his warm, welcoming lips.
This, she realized, was what home--what family--felt like. It wasn't the apartment she'd lived in or the expectations her parents had set that she would never live up to.
It was the safety, the love she felt in Antone's embrace, and no matter what happened or where they went, she knew that feeling would never go away, not as long as he was beside her.
The End
Epilogue
"No," Damon whimpered while Tess sat him in his high chair. Not that she could blame the poor guy. It had been a long day for all of them, filled with primping and preening and posing for the press. At thirty-three, it was exhausting--she could hardly imagine what it would feel like to a two year old who wanted nothing more than to color on the walls and torment his older brothers.
"Maybe I should just put him down, babe." She turned to look at her husband, still broad-shouldered and sexy as ever, though she couldn't help but notice how the day's efforts had worn on him, too. There were bags under his eyes, and he was holding their squirming three-year-old in his arms as he considered her.
"No, no. I wanted this to be special. They can stay up a little later. Trust me, they will be happier for it." He propped little prince Nicco on one of the dining room chairs, then glanced around the room.
"Where's the birthday boy?" he asked.
Tess frowned. She hadn't seen Antone junior since the end of the press junket earlier that day. He'd been a true champion where all the attention was concerned, despite his general predisposition for shyness.
Probably the Antone side of him, she thought ruefully.
Were she in the five-year-old's place, she had no doubt that she'd have been scratching at the walls trying to escape. But no, he'd smiled for the cameras and endured the parade with grace, thanking everyone for sharing in his birthday celebration.
A true prince.
"I don't know." Tess frowned again, then made her way from the dining room into the living room and finally to the hall. As the years had gone on, her little wing of the palace had expanded along with her family, and though the new bedrooms were a little more elaborate than she would have liked, little Antone's had remained the same.
She creaked open the door to stare at the baby blue paint of what had once been her little boy's nursery. Where his white crib had once stood was now a tiny child-sized bed, and, laying on it, not bothering with the covers, was her snoozing little prince.
"He's had quite the day." Antone's deep voice rumbled behind her and she turned to smile up at him.
"We all have." Tess nodded. "Probably best to let him sleep."
"Come, let's put them all to bed."
She followed his lead, laying their other two boys down despite their protests, and when their doors were closed and their nightlights were on, she sat down on her discount-furniture-store-sofa and smiled to herself.
There were crayons on the floor and one of the boys had taken to drawing on the walls. There were toys left out in front of the TV. There were tiny clothes neatly folded on the lounge chair that she still needed to put away.
"This place is a wreck." She grinned.
Antone laughed. "I suppose. I will pick it up in the morning." He settled in next to her and she laid her head on his shoulder.
"Don't bother. The little monsters need to learn to clean up after themselves." After all, nobody would be doing the cleaning for them. All the palace maids were forbidden from entering Tess' wing--despite the boys' many pleas--and though it was occasionally a nuisance, Tess wouldn't have it any other way.
"They really were great today," Tess said.
"As were you, my queen. I'm beginning to think public life suits you." He kissed her forehead.
"Don't go getting any big ideas."
"I would not dare." Antone sighed and Tess snuggled closer to him.
"So, what was the big surprise?" she asked.
"It was nothing, truly."
"Antone," she coaxed.
"I simply got Antone junior a little cake. I was thinking we could have a family celebration. Just the family."
Tess smiled up at her husband. "That was very sweet of you."
"I even ordered it from a grocery store. No special cakes from the kitchen."
"With ugly little birthday candles?" she asked.
He nodded. "Five of them."
Tess leaned closer and kissed her husband on the lips. "I don't know how I got so lucky."
"You know, I say the same thing to myself every day," he murmured, then cupped her chin and pulled her close for another kiss. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You and our three beautiful children."
Tess' cheeks burned, and finally the timing felt right. "Four."
"Sorry?"
"Our four children." She caught his hand and placed it over his stomach. "Maybe this time we can give the country the princess they want."
Antone blinked, then a wide grin split his face as he enveloped her in a hug. "Yes, maybe a princess. But if it's another prince..."
"I'll be just as happy, because he'll be ours."
"Me too, my queen. Me too." Antone stood, then held out his hand to her. "Now, come and celebrate with me."
Thank you so much for reading my story!
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About the Author
Allison Gatta is an avid writer of steamy contemporary romance, an obsessive viewer of bad television, and an occasional player of overly-complex board games. In her free time, she thinks up fun, new characters and argues with her family over sci-fi trivia. She is a firm believer that Voldemort would vanquish Darth Vader in a duel.
Allison lives in the happening city of Austin, TX with her husband and their spunky pup, Sophie. To stay posted on what Allison’s up to, be sure to sign up for the newsletter.
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