The only thing he could think of was Freya, but she’d been safe in that delivery room when he’d left with his patient for Theatre, so that left something to do with his brother the King.
Ilias? No, it can’t be. He’s sick, sometimes, but it can’t be now!
Jules threw her hands into the air as the two guards barged past her towards Jamie.
‘Jamie, these men—’
‘Sadiq? Mujab? What’s going on?’
But before they could say anything Jules barged through them and laid a hand upon his arm. ‘It’s Freya. She’s had an accident.’
Chapter Six
IT WAS THE pain she felt first, as she began to become aware of the world once more. Everything felt sore, but the worst thing was her headache. It was as if she had a crown of intense burning fire around her skull. Her mouth felt dry too, and she tried to lick her lips.
‘Freya? Open your eyes.’
Jamie.
Jamie was here. Why was he in her bedroom? What had happened?
As she struggled to implement his instruction to open her eyes she began to remember some weird, hazy things.
A woman in a car.
A baby wrapped in blankets in her arms.
The cold.
A set of car keys.
The twinkling stars above.
Two stern-looking men crouching over her, babbling in a language she didn’t understand.
And then she remembered.
The black ice.
Slipping on the pavement and falling.
She opened her eyes, struggling to focus, but she could only just make out a face. A man’s face. Dark hair and midnight eyes.
‘Jamie…’
She saw a relieved smile break across his face and she tried to reach up to touch him, to make sure he was real, but it was as if she was uncoordinated, or didn’t have the strength.
‘You’ve had a nasty fall. Knocked yourself out. The babies are okay. You’ve had a little bleeding, but they’re okay. We’re keeping you in for monitoring and bed rest.’
Freya blinked as she processed this huge amount of information. ‘What? Keeping me in? No.’
She panicked, tried to get up, tried to get out of bed, but dizziness assailed her and she felt his firm hands holding her arms, pressing her down.
‘You need to stay in bed.’
‘No, I’m—’
‘Freya, for once you are going to have to do as you are told!’
And then she heard it in his voice. Fear.
He cared.
She blinked again and tried to focus on his face, but she just felt so tired. Slowly, inexorably, her eyes closed once again and she drifted off to sleep.
*
‘Concussion?’ She stared at Jamie.
‘Yes. You’re also still bleeding and you have high blood pressure, so you’re staying in on bed rest.’
Staying in. In hospital.
Adrenaline was pulsing through her, making her legs twitch. She wanted to run. Wanted to get out of there.
‘But the babies are fine, you said.’
‘I did.’
‘But I need to stay on bed rest? Are you kidding me?’
‘What would you say to a patient seven months pregnant with twins, who’s had a nasty fall, hit her head, has high BP and is bleeding? Would you tell her to carry on, or would you tell her to stay in bed?’
She bit her bottom lip, eyeing the door. He was right, but she didn’t want to admit it. She would tell a patient in that situation that she needed to stay in. But this was different.
She’d been trapped in a hospital bed before. Lying there, gripping onto the bedrails, whilst a doctor and a nurse debrided the dead tissue from her face. It had felt as if the acid was being splashed onto her all over again. The pain interminable.
Being back in a hospital bed, being told she had to stay there, was making her feel trapped. Claustrophobic. As if she couldn’t breathe.
She turned away, upset but not wanting to let him see her cry, her gaze falling on the fruit baskets and the balloons filling her room and all the cards on the windowsill that sent best wishes from her work colleagues and her family.
It was all terribly familiar. She was unable to move, feeling terrified and afraid. Her own life was out of her control. In the hands of doctors.
How had she forgotten what that felt like?
‘I’m not sure I can do this,’ she whispered.
‘You have to.’
‘You can’t make me. I can discharge myself.’
‘You’d have to get past the guards I’ll put on your door first.’ He raised an eyebrow. Daring her to challenge his authority.
She stared at him. He’d never ordered her about like this before. Never challenged her.
She baulked at his attempt. ‘You wouldn’t…?’
He leaned forward over the end of the bed. ‘Try me. I’ve let you do this your way ever since day one. I have acquiesced to your wishes and tried my best not to upset you. But, damn you, Freya, if you get out of that bed and endanger yourself and those babies then, so help me, I will not be held responsible for my actions!’
He meant it. Every word.
She crossed her arms and looked away.
Again her life was being taken out of her control by other people. She had vowed never to let that happen to her again. This was her life and she wanted to be the one in charge, making all the decisions.
However, she had no doubt that he would post guards on her door, and then everyone would know who Jamie was. And as soon as that little nugget got out her life would most definitely not be her own. There would be reporters and gossip and her happy, quiet little life, hidden away on the night shift, would be destroyed.
‘Fine.’
It wasn’t fine. Far from it. But this wasn’t just about her any more. She wasn’t in this bed alone. She had two babies to think of.
He stared hard at her, his hands on his hips. ‘Fine?’
‘I’ll stay in bed.’
‘Good.’
‘But on one condition.’
There was that eyebrow again. Wary. ‘Yes?’
‘Someone brings me a goddamned strawberry milkshake!’
There was the ghost of a smile and then he bowed, almost to the floor. ‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
*
Freya was a cranky patient. Short on temper, irritable, bad of mood. Nervous.
But didn’t they say that medics made the worst patients?
‘I know it’s difficult, but you need to try and relax,’ he’d told her.
She’d glared at him. ‘How can I? When being here reminds me of what it was like before?’
He’d placed his hand on hers. ‘I know. But this is different. No one is going to hurt you now. I won’t let them.’
She’d had another scan, and the babies looked fine. The consultant believed the bleeding was coming from a small lesion on her cervix, but it was nothing sinister. They’d tested it and believed the lesion had occurred as a result of her fall. The pressure of two babies on her cervix as well as the severity of the impact of her hitting the concrete had caused a small tear.
He’d given her books to read, had brought delicious yet healthy treats, and he would often sit with her, slowly massaging her feet or her shoulders as she tried to relax.
His favourite moments were spent watching her as she read. The small divot that formed between her brows, the cute way she sometimes bit her bottom lip, the way she would hurriedly turn the page, as if she just couldn’t wait to find out what would happen next. Those were the moments when she forgot where she was.
She looked up at him and caught him staring. ‘What are you doing?’
He smiled. ‘Looking at you.’
Freya frowned and smiled at the same time. ‘Well, don’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s weird. I don’t like people looking at me.’
‘No, and you don’t like people making assumptions about what happened to you. You d
on’t like people showing sympathy. Was I doing any of those things?’
She looked as if she was thinking about that. ‘I guess not.’
‘Well, then, I’ll continue to look at you.’
‘But why?’
‘Because I like doing it.’
It was true. He did. She was such a complicated person, prickly when scared, but fascinating. And she really was beautiful. Outwardly and inside. Her scars—shocking because of how she’d got them—were totally a part of her character. Who she was.
‘But why?’ She really sounded confused.
He sighed. ‘Does it ever occur to you that you might be worth looking at?’
Her eyes clouded over. ‘No.’
‘Well, then, you’re wrong.’
‘Are you sure you didn’t get the bump on the head? Perhaps you should be lying here instead of me?’
‘Perhaps I should be lying next to you? Beside you?’
That stopped her from speaking. She immediately looked down at her book, tried to read on, but he could see that she wasn’t taking anything in.
Eventually she looked up at him, exasperated, and said, ‘You can’t say things like that, Jamie. It’s not fair.’
‘Even if it’s true?’
‘Even if it’s true. Even if you did want to be lying here next to me you shouldn’t say it—because then I start to get the feelings, and I don’t want to get the feelings, because some day you’re going to leave. You’ll leave us, Jamie, you will. You can’t deny that.’
No. He couldn’t. She was right. One day he would get called back and then what? If he tried to start a relationship with this woman it would always be there, hanging over them like a swinging blade, ready to fall down and sever them in two. Was that fair? On either of them? On the babies?
‘I’ll go and make us some tea.’
He got up and slipped from the room, his mind dark with thoughts of ascension to the throne and responsibility and living a life behind walls. Never to enjoy himself again. Never to deliver another baby.
Away from Freya and his sons.
He fought the urge to punch a wall. It was all just so maddening! He’d fought to get access into her life, which she had finally given, and they were becoming used to one another, liked one another—but for what?
Either way, he was going to lose someone or something.
Majidar, or Freya and the babies.
Or maybe he’d just lose himself?
*
‘Mona, please stop fussing.’ Freya laid a hand on her friend’s as she continued to fiddle about with Freya’s sheets.
If she was going to visit, she’d prefer it if her friend just kept her up to date with what was happening on the ward, had a cup of tea with her and chatted. Not fussed about like an old mother hen.
‘I can’t help it.’
Freya smiled. ‘Sit. Eat one of these.’ She passed over a box of chocolates that her mum had brought on her last visit. ‘They’re truffles.’
‘Oh! Okay.’ Mona took the box.
‘The praline one is nice.’
Mona checked to see which one that was, and then popped it into her mouth and began to make appreciative sounds.
‘Told you.’
Freya lay back against the pillows and turned away from the bright light pouring in through the window. It made a pleasant change from the dark, grey wintry days they had been having recently. Life was passing her by and she was still stuck here.
‘I got the Christmas decorations out just now. I’m going to pop them up later.’
Freya frowned. ‘It’s still November.’
‘It’s never too early.’
‘I beg to differ.’
‘Well, you would. You’ve always been a Grumpus around Christmas.’
Mona was wrong. Freya loved Christmas. But these last few years she’d begun to resent it. Everyone she knew was married or in a relationship, or had kids, or both, so they had a reason to enjoy Christmas. They were with their loved ones. They were making memories. For Freya every Christmas was spent with her mum, and though she loved her mum it wasn’t what Freya wanted.
She had big dreams of what Christmas should be. Of a Christmas morning on which she could sit and watch her children open their presents with squeals of delight. Of a festive season during which she could go out and build snowmen and have snowball fights, visit Santa in his grotto, go to see a pantomime.
Her mum was great company, but she didn’t want to do any of those things. She liked a quiet, understated Christmas, where her only concern was whether the turkey would be cooked and whether they’d finish eating in time to watch the Queen’s Speech. Then she’d fall asleep in her chair, until Freya woke her later in the evening to see if she wanted a mince pie.
‘Wait ’til next Christmas. You’ll have twins!’ exclaimed Mona.
Freya nodded. But would she be alone with them? Or would Jamie be there? How was she going to cope with raising two babies? She would have to brave everything. Living during the day time. Seeing all those people. Changing her shifts at work because the hospital nursery only took children during daylight hours.
Her whole life was going to change.
It wasn’t meant to have happened like this! She was meant to have been happy! Thrilled that she was having children. She was thrilled, but it wasn’t turning out to be the fairy tale she’d imagined it would be.
‘Are you and Jamie spending Christmas together?’
‘I think he’s working.’
‘But he’ll have some time at home. Are you going to do anything special?’
‘I don’t think so. I’ll be at Mum’s, as usual, I guess.’
‘You aren’t spending any time together?’
This line of questioning was making her feel very uncomfortable. ‘He hasn’t said anything.’
Mona handed her back the box of chocolates, looking sceptical. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me, Freya?’
‘Like what?’
‘About Jamie? Who were those men in suits? They looked like bodyguards.’
She hurried to try and put Mona off the scent. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Just some guys who were passing, I think.’
‘Well, for guys who were just passing they hang around a lot. And they talk to Jamie a lot.’
‘He’s probably just thanking them.’
‘He’s not some secret undercover boss, or anything?’ Mona grinned. ‘Because if he’s secretly the CEO of the NHS then I think we need to enlighten him about a few things.’
Freya laughed. ‘Jamie? No!’
‘I just think it’s strange, that’s all. They even wear those earpiece things…like Secret Service guys.’
Thank goodness she didn’t blush as she’d used to. ‘Really? That’s weird. But, no, Jamie is just a midwife. Honestly.’
Mona nodded, watching her. ‘Okay.’ She got up and went to the door, put her hand on the handle. ‘You know, I still don’t understand why you two aren’t together. You obviously slept together, and you seem to get on. So what’s keeping you apart?’
Freya shrugged. ‘He’s a temp. He’ll be leaving soon—there’s no point.’
‘But Sarah from HR told me that they’ve offered him a permanent post, which he’s accepted.’
That was news to Freya. Why hadn’t Jamie told her? That he was planning on sticking around for her and the babies?
‘I didn’t know.’
‘It’s clear he has feelings for you.’
Her smile was tinged with sadness. ‘For the babies, not me.’
‘You really think that? I’ve seen the way his eyes shine when he talks about you. The way his face lights up.’
‘He talks about me?’
Mona nodded. ‘Frequently. He cares about you. You must see it.’
She cared about him, too. Probably more than she should. But she’d been holding back. Afraid of showing any of it. Alone in the day, she dreamed about what it would be like to be with him, and at night her dreams were fille
d with his smiling face and his steaming hot kisses.
No wonder she woke up cranky. She couldn’t have what she wanted the most. Was afraid to let herself have him in case she lost him.
‘It’s complicated.’
Mona laughed. ‘When isn’t it? Look, I’ve got to go, but he’ll be in later. Do me a favour and be nice to him. He’s doing his best, but you’re a bloody expert at keeping people at a distance. Let him care for you, Freya. He’s not Mike.’
No. She knew that.
‘It’s difficult.’
‘“’Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.” Who was it who said that? Was it Shakespeare?’
‘I never was any good at English.’
‘Me neither.’ Mona opened the door. ‘But we’re very good at chemistry!’
And she gave Freya a tiny wave before she headed off to do her shift.
Freya lay there on the bed, thinking over all the things her friend had said. Jamie was staying on permanently. He had feelings for her. She had feelings for him. The babies would be here soon.
We could be a family.
If she were only brave enough to let it happen.
Was it better to love someone and then lose them than not to love at all?
It sounded to her like devastation. And Jamie’s mother had died of it.
Could she let her babies grow to love their father in the knowledge that he would desert them at some point? And would her babies one day leave her too?
But the temptation to give in, to try it, to accept the love and care that Jamie clearly wanted to give her, was extremely potent. The proximity of all that imagined happiness was intoxicating.
If she gave herself the chance to explore that happiness, to cast all her concerns to one side and just live in the moment with him, what would that be like?
Her heart soared at the idea. At the hope. At the possibility of such happiness.
Didn’t she deserve it?
No matter how short-lived?
*
Jamie opened the door to Freya’s room and stopped, frozen in place, when he saw how she looked.
Out of bed. Getting dressed.
Pregnant with His Royal Twins Page 11