by Amy Ruttan
Kainan grinned. It will always stand, but are you sure? I have to return to Isla Hermosa at some point. Your home is here in Toronto.
“My home is with you and our son. That’s all the home I need.” They kissed again. “I love you so much, Kainan.”
“I love you too,” he whispered.
* * *
Kainan developed a slight postoperative fever, which was not uncommon after the amount of blood that he’d lost. So he wasn’t allowed to see Peter until New Year’s Eve.
As he walked to the pediatric critical care unit, with Andreas following closely behind with a wheelchair, he couldn’t help but think about how this should have been the night he’d prepared for this coronation. Now, instead of a coronation, a parliament was being formed. It was an exciting time for Isla Hermosa and he couldn’t wait to go back.
As soon as Kainan and Peter had healed, they would go back to Isla Hermosa and begin to heal the country—from the ground up.
Kainan had decided that the palace would be repaired, but would no longer be his home. It would instead house the new government that was being formed right now.
He much preferred his original home outside the city gates of Helicia—if it still stood. From there he could see the ocean and the beach. It reminded him of his mother and her longing to be free.
And, though he was still King, he would have more freedom now that Isla Hermosa was a democracy.
He wanted a safe place for Peter to play—not a prison for him to grow up in, like Kainan had had.
Reagan had been by his side. She’d moved between the rooms, taking care of him and Peter. Now that they were getting closer to the pediatric critical care unit, where Peter was, Kainan became nervous. Peter was no longer sedated and Kainan had never yet got to look into his eyes. Not really.
They put on gowns and were buzzed in.
Kainan walked toward his son’s crib.
Peter was cooing and kicking, despite the incision in his chest.
As soon as Reagan came into view Peter responded happily to her presence and Kainan’s heart melted.
He moved closer to the crib and Peter’s eyes locked on his. Peter stared at him and Kainan could see eyes so similar to his studying him. Emotion overcame him as he reached out and touched his son. Peter grasped his finger, squeezing it before smiling up at him.
Kainan’s heart swelled, and instead of signing he opened his mouth, to hear his voice—not a whisper, but his voice—respond to his son.
“I love you.”
He was no longer voiceless. He had a voice, his son had a new heart, and the three of them together were one. They were whole and healed.
Epilogue
Two years later, New Year’s Eve, Isla Hermosa
“IT’S ALMOST TIME, Your Majesties,” Andreas said, bowing as he came into the room.
Kainan’s pulse was racing as he smoothed his hand over the traditional red military dress jacket that had once been worn by his father. His pulse was racing.
“You can do this.”
Kainan smiled down at Reagan, who was dressed in white and wearing his mother’s tiara, as well as some other jewels that had been hidden and saved during the war.
He sighed and nodded.
This was to be his first speech in Isla Hermosa since he’d returned, married Reagan and introduced the world to his son Peter, who was taking to his new heart so well. He’d spoken to his people briefly, but hadn’t given his first address in the new parliament that had been built in the restored palace.
Which was where he was now standing.
He was dressing in his mother’s old room.
He, Reagan and Peter lived in his mother’s seaside villa, outside the capital city of Helicia.
For the first year after his return Kainan had kept to himself as he and Peter had healed.
His surgery had been a success, but it had taken some time for him to speak properly again. There were times he was still unsure of his voice.
Reagan took his hand and squeezed it. “Your voice is strong. You can do this.”
“Did I tell you...?” He took a pause. “How beautiful you look?”
She blushed. “Don’t even try to get out of this by complimenting me. I’m not letting you off the hook.”
Kainan chuckled and held out his arm. “Are you ready for this moment? Standing by my side as I address parliament?”
“No!” She laughed nervously as she slipped her arm over his. “I’m afraid I’m going to mess something up. I’d rather be at the free clinic in town.”
Kainan beamed at her. “You’re giving my security team a hard time, you know. Andreas is finding it difficult to calm Diego down when you work at the clinic.”
“Why?” she asked. “It’s perfectly safe. I’m a surgeon, Kainan. You promised me I could continue as a surgeon. I don’t want the crown jewels or the palace. I just want to work.”
“You just want to work?” he teased. “What about the beach house and our son?”
“Well, of course. And there’s also one more thing,” Reagan said.
“What’s that?”
“You.”
She kissed him—just a light feather kiss, but it made his blood fire and he suddenly didn’t want to be there any longer.
“Diego is very concerned about you working in the clinic.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Diego can’t stand the sight of blood.”
“He should leave the room, then.”
Kainan shook his head. “He’s devoted to his Queen. He cannot.”
Reagan’s arm trembled. “I’m not used to that.”
“You’re doing fine.”
Then Andreas opened the door.
Kainan held Peter’s hand. Peter laughed and smiled at his parents. And Kainan’s tension melted away.
In his son he saw himself, but he also saw Reagan. Peter had Reagan’s spirit—the spirit that reminded him of his mother.
Every day Peter grew stronger, and their life in Isla Hermosa grew more idyllic. The beach house was the perfect hideaway for them to live in peace.
“Your Majesty,” Andreas said with a hint of pride. “Prime Minister Monterro is ready for you.”
“I am ready,” Kainan said, but inside he was nervous.
This was the first time he would be addressing his people since the successful election of Alejandro Monterro as their first prime minster. Judging by the way Isla Hermosa had bloomed in the last couple of years, Alejandro was the perfect choice. And Kainan respected him.
Reagan squeezed his arm.
As Kainan escorted Reagan through the door he reached down with the hand that had been resting on his ceremonial sword and took his son’s chubby hand in his.
“You’re breaking protocol,” Reagan whispered.
“I think that it does not matter anymore,” Kainan whispered back.
They smiled at each other.
The three of them walked side by side towards the double doors. One the other side was Isla Hermosa’s parliament and a handful of reporters. Not only were his people watching, the whole world was watching.
Before the double doors opened Kainan turned to Reagan and she let go his hand and took Peter, because he had to walk in alone first.
“I couldn’t have done this without you,” he said, touching her cheek.
“You were always going to have the surgery—your voice would’ve been restored.”
“I know, but you’re the reason I’m alive. You and Peter have given me a reason to live. I love you.”
Reagan’s eyes glistened with tears. “And I love you.”
“Me too,” Peter chirped.
Kainan laughed and tousled his son’s hair. He turned to Andreas and nodded. “I’m ready now.”
Andreas beamed and opened the doors.
“His Majesty, King Kainan the First!”
It was shouted over the din of scraping chairs as everyone stood.
Kainan gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, taking a step through the double doors into what had once been his father’s throne room, but now held Isla Hermosa’s democracy—
It was a step towards his destiny.
A destiny not only as a king, but as a father and husband.
As a man who had once again found his voice. A voice he never would have found if it hadn’t been for Reagan.
This was all for her and Peter.
There was no turning back—and, thanks to Reagan, he never wanted to.
With her by his side he could do anything.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Amy Ruttan
NAVY DOC ON HER CHRISTMAS LIST
CONVENIENT MARRIAGE, SURPRISE TWINS
HIS PREGNANT ROYAL BRIDE
ALEJANDRO’S SEXY SECRET
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from FORBIDDEN NIGHT WITH THE DUKE by Annie Claydon.
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Forbidden Night with the Duke
by Annie Claydon
Chapter One
IN THE SCHEME of things it wasn’t so much of a catastrophe. The building was still in one piece, no one had died, and the sun was still shining outside. But as everyday disasters went, this one was about the worst that Megan Wheeler could imagine. She’d really wanted this job, and now it seemed an impossibility.
It had all been going so well. The interviews had been tough but constructive, and her confidence had been vindicated when a job offer had arrived in the post. There would be a four-day induction workshop in Gloucestershire, hosted by the charity she would be working for, which would be attended by delegates from a number of different charities.
She’d packed her suitcase carefully, allowing for an outfit to meet every eventuality, and an early start meant that she’d been able to make the drive to Holte Hall in good time, stopping off for a cup of tea to make sure that she didn’t arrive embarrassingly early, or mortifyingly late.
Excitement thrilled through her as she followed the signs which led from the elaborate gates up to the hall. The massive house rose on the horizon, all ornate stonework and grand windows, and as she drove towards the group of cars in the curving driveway, two teenaged boys waved her into a parking space and then directed her towards the impressive, canopied entrance.
John Ferris, the chief executive of the charity she was to work for, was standing in the cavernous hallway, ready to greet everyone. He expressed his pleasure at seeing her again, and passed her over to another teenager, who showed her to her room.
There was scarcely time to appreciate the elegant bedroom, with its modern, gleaming en suite bathroom, before she was summoned back downstairs again. Twenty or so people were chatting over coffee and pastries, and by the time the group was ushered towards the chairs that were set out at the far end of the room, Megan had exchanged nervous smiles with a number of her fellow delegates.
John Ferris had stood up to say a few words. All of the four different charities represented here would be holding sessions designed to equip the new recruits for the jobs that awaited them. He’d leave it to their host, the owner of Holte Hall, and chairman of the board of trustees of his own charity, to give them an idea of what the next four days had in store.
He gave a grinning shrug, running his hand across the bald patch on the top of his head. ‘When we can find him, that is...’
It was clearly not unusual for their opening speaker to go missing. Someone opened the door a couple of inches and called along the hallway, and a thrill of nervous laughter ran around the room. Then the bottom of Megan’s world suddenly dropped out, leaving her suspended in a mixture of horror and disbelief.
Jaye Perera.
Jaye had always known how to make an entrance, and this time it was no different. Fairy-tale handsome, with long-lashed brown eyes, which gave a touch of softness to an otherwise wholly masculine face. Dark hair that curled around the collar of his open-necked shirt. It was as if he’d been designed with the express purpose of making the female heart beat a little faster.
His dress and demeanour implied approachability, but his immaculate grooming indicated that he could be as smart as the next man if he put his mind to it. Megan heard the young woman sitting next to her catch her breath.
Most people did that. When she’d first seen him five years ago, sweeping through the hospital ward, deep in conversation with one of the senior doctors, Megan had done it. The dark good looks of his Sri Lankan father, along with the title he’d inherited from his mother’s family, tended to make an impression. And when Jaye apologised for not being where he was supposed to be at the appointed time, his regret seemed heartfelt.
But Jaye Perera had a history of not being where he was supposed to be. He hadn’t even turned up at his own wedding.
‘Welcome, everyone.’ His smile swept the room, and even Megan couldn’t help the involuntary response, feeling herself smile back at him. ‘This is a new venture for us. We’ve got together with three other charities to provide this induction course for doctors and nurses wishing to work abroad. We have session leaders here from each of the four charities, who’ll be sharing their experience and giving you a taste of the realities of what you’ve signed up for.’
He was a good speaker, Megan had to give him that. In just a few moments he’d got his willing audience in the palm of his hand, everyone believing that he was speaking to them alone.
‘Working abroad for a charity is something that many medical professionals aspire to, but the truth of it can be a little different from the theory. You’ll be faced with hard work, challenging conditions, frustration and more than a little heartbreak. It won’t matter that the pay’s not what you could hope to earn in other fields, because you probably won’t get much of a chance to spend it.’
A ripple of laughter flowed around the room. If Jaye was trying to change anyone’s mind, he wasn’t making much of a start. But then he knew that. This was all a PR manoeuvre, a deftly arranged exercise in making everyone think that he knew what working abroad was really like. Megan doubted he’d ever really got his hands dirty.
‘Okay. So who has a significant other...?’ His gaze ran around the room, seeming to pause for a moment on Megan, who was one of the few who hadn’t raised her hand.
Jaye nodded. ‘Well it’s not rocket science to say that working abroad does affect family relationships, and we’re interested in your thoughts about how you’re going to deal with that...’
Megan felt herself flush. Jaye Perera had the out and out gall to talk about other people’s relationships? When he’d walked out on his pregnant fiancée three days before their wedding?
She could hardly hear what Jaye was saying through a blur of misery. She’d really wanted this job, but working for a man like him? Being expected to follow his lead, when she knew that he had no sense of integrity? It was impossible, and she had to let it go now.
* * *
She sat through Jaye’s talk, feeling her dreams slip away. There was going to be a buffet lunch at one o’clock, which was obviously intended to be a chance for everyone to start getting to know each other, and that would be Megan’s chance to leave inconspicuously.
Easier said than done. When everyone rose from their seats, the knot of people surrounding her kept her waiting for a way out of the room. Jaye, on the other hand, had clearly acquired the knack of making his way through the obstacle course of empty chairs and groups
of people who were intent only on talking, his way opening up before him in response to his dazzling smile.
‘Lord Marlowe.’ Megan might not be able to run, but she could hide behind the formality of his title.
‘Nurse Wheeler.’ He somehow made it sound as if he thought her title actually meant something, more than his maybe. That was a sham, too. On the occasions that he’d come into contact with her at work, he’d seemed only to see and hear the senior staff, as if the other people busying themselves around him didn’t exist.
‘I’m surprised you remember me.’ The paper badge on the lapel of her jacket gave only her first name. The nurse part might be a lucky guess, but Wheeler couldn’t possibly be.
‘It’s not difficult to notice someone who does her job well.’ The comment was clearly designed as a compliment, but Megan knew it had no substance. Maybe he’d just studied the applications carefully and had a good memory.
‘As you’ve already spent some time working abroad, we’re hoping you’ll be able to share some of your experience with the others,’ Jaye continued smoothly, as if he already knew what he wanted to say, and her replies didn’t make much difference to him.
She could play along, and then disappear quietly. Or she could show him that she had a good memory, too.
‘How’s Sonia? We didn’t hear from her after she left the hospital.’ There was no particular reason why Megan should have heard from Sonia, they hadn’t been close. But what had happened two weeks after Sonia had left her job, the cancelled wedding and the missing groom, had been a talking point for months.
The smile slid from Jaye’s face for a moment. ‘I haven’t been in contact with Sonia since then, either.’
Which meant he hadn’t been in contact with his child, either. Megan knew exactly what it was like to be the unwanted child of a rich and influential man, who had no scruples about rewriting history whenever it suited him. Maybe that was why she wanted to slap Jaye now. Not for Sonia, but for the child.
‘I heard she had a baby.’
A pulse beat at the side of his temple. ‘That’s what I heard, too.’
A baby who had no place here. If Jay hadn’t turned suddenly, in response to his name being called, Megan thought she might have slapped him. There was no excuse now. He knew he was a father, and clearly he’d decided that was a technicality that he could afford to overlook.