Page 56 of Crowned for His Son

He started to blink and wake. ‘Mama?’

‘Shh…it’s okay, baby. Go back to sleep.’

Letting go felt like the hardest thing, and she was grateful that strong arms wrapped around her once more after she placed him in his cot and they watched him settle back to sleep without a care in the world.

‘I’m not sure whether to ground him until he’s fifty or handcuff myself to him to ensure he never does that again,’ Azar admitted gruffly.

A broken sob-laugh slipped out. ‘Welcome to my world,’ she murmured, and then her breath caught when he tilted her face to his.

‘A world I’m finding I’m agreeable to inhabiting,’ he returned gruffly.

CHAPTER TEN

SOMETHING SHIFTED BETWEENthem in that moment. Profound and heavy enough to still their breaths. To make Azar’s eyes darken, this time minus the shadows. And whether he was the one who drew her closer or if it was she who held on tighter, she chose not to dwell on it. They didn’t kiss, but they came close. And, bewilderingly, it felt even more intimate, standing there watching over their son, not rejecting the connection forging between them, even though she had no idea where it might lead.

She watched as the tightness around his mouth and eyes eased and he exhaled heavily. As if some secret, mighty resolution had been reached. And when he dropped a soft kiss on her forehead Eden found herself sighing too. Abandoning those fierce defenders guarding the walls of her heart.

Just for tonight, she would take a break from tumult.

‘My father will have heard about this,’ said Azar. ‘He’ll need reassuring. I’ll return as soon as I can.’

She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself to retain his warmth as he stepped away. For the longest time, he simply stared at her. Then, turning briskly on his heels, he strode away.

She stayed, reassuring a distraught Nadia, when she hesitantly approached, that she bore no grudge.

Then, after assuring herself her baby was okay, she reluctantly left him to sleep.

Sleep for herself was out of the question, but she stripped upon reaching her suite, showered and dressed in a nightgown and robe, then planted herself in front of the TV in the living room connecting her and Azar’s suites. For the first time she was thankful for the strict palace protocols that almost guaranteed that news of tonight’s events wouldn’t get out.

She’d just about managed to get her heart to settle when Azar walked in. He was freshly showered too, and even before her avid gaze had taken in the damp strands of silky hair clinging to his forehead and temples, to wander lower over his hard pecs and washboard stomach, her heart was galloping again.

It really was deplorably unfair how magnificent this man was.

‘Nightcap?’ he drawled, sauntering over the extensive liquor cabinet perched next to a Venetian wallpapered wall.

She started to shake her head. But darts of pain, one swiftly following the other, lanced her temples, made her freeze.

Azar froze too, his brow furrowing. ‘What’s wrong?’ he rasped.

‘My head hurts. I’m coming down with a migraine.’

Concern clenched his brow and her heart thudded as he changed direction, striding over to where she sat.

‘Shall I get the doctor?’

And invite more curiosity? ‘No, I’ll be fine. It’s probably the adrenaline… I’ll sleep it off.’

His scrutiny didn’t let up. ‘Does that usually work?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never misplaced my son before,’ she said, then flinched at her half-facetious, half-panicked tone. It would take her a while to get over the emotional turbulence of the last hour.

‘Ven aqui.’The command was low and utterly unshakable.

Eden stood and tumbled forward, a compulsion she couldn’t fight directing her. The moment she was within touching distance, he dragged her into his arms. She fell the last half-step, a sob of relief breaking free before she could stifle it.

Her cheek landed on his chest and she inhaled, deep and shaky. His arms banded her, just like before, and damn if it wasn’t quickly turning into her favourite place to be.

‘I don’t know what I’d have done if anything had—’