other twin?”
“It is mostly unknown. Some speculate that it is abnormalities that results in the vanishing twin.”
“What usually happens to the surviving twin?” Kaz asked.
“Most of the time, the baby is healthy. Rarely there is a problem.” He gave the handle to the nurse and wiped the gel off with a towel. “This is good that it happened so early. If the twin died in the second or third trimester, there would have been increased risks to the surviving fetus.”
I blinked. “So. . .I’m pregnant?”
The doctor smiled. “You are.”
Kaz held my hand, but he grew stiff and silent.
The doctor rose. “I will give you some time and then return. We have a lot to discuss.”
Stunned, I watched the nurse and doctor leave.
Kaz remained quiet.
I looked at him. “Baby. . .”
“You’re pregnant.”
“I am.” I turned and stared at the wall. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“You had twins.”
I let out a long breath. “I did. I’m. . .happy and sad.”
“Me too, mysh.” He lowered and kissed my forehead. “But. . .I’m more happy than sad. How else do you feel? Do you need anything?”
I swallowed. “No.”
I didn’t know what I would need anyway. A range of conflicting emotions came over me. I had lost a baby and then gained another.
Twins? One vanished and one survived. How do I process that?
I felt stupid, still sitting in mourning. I should have been completely happy. I was pregnant. Still, a part of me was sad about the twin that had disappeared.
Shh. This is a blessing. I’m pregnant. Try not to think too much about what you’ve lost. Focus on the blessing.
Dumb thoughts came to my mind. Would the surviving twin feel alone inside of me? Would him or her continue to feel that loss, once born? I knew that twins had a strong bond—a strong connection. Did it begin in the womb?
I placed my hand over my stomach.
I’m here, baby. You’re not by yourself.
As if Kaz heard me, he placed his hand over mine.
We both touched my stomach.
He whispered, “We will get through this and have a healthy baby.”
“We will?”
“Yes.”
Stunned, I shuddered under him. “Yes. We will.”
He lowered and kissed me again.
I’m pregnant.
I relaxed in his love. So far, he’d been my anchor in these past days, keeping me strong and making sure I didn’t drown in depression.
Now we had a child on the way. Anxiety rushed through my veins, but I would not let it overtake me. With Kaz, anything was possible.
When he rose, he hit me with an intense gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“I am going to be an annoying lion for these next months.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“If you think I have been overprotective now, then. . .”
“Kaz—”
“You will not leave that bed.”
I parted my lips.
“Mysh, I don’t want you doing too much.”
“If the doctor puts me on bed rest, then that is fine, but I’m not—”
“We’ll see.”
I grinned, not caring anymore. If he wanted to protect me, then I would let him. Anything was better than him standing in his war room and bringing terror to another country.
I’m pregnant. Is the world ready for the lion to become a father? Or me to become a mother? Holy shit.
Chapter 6
Cigars and Brandy
Kazimir
Emily underwent a lot.
When we returned to the house, I carried her upstairs despite her protest. She had no idea how much I would spoil her. She’d proved to not only be the most important person in my life, but now she carried my child, after we lost another. There would be nothing I wouldn’t do for her—no obstacle I wouldn’t tear down, if it got in her way.
Emily wanted to take another shower.
When she went into the bathroom, I took the butler aside. “Did Pavel give you my message?”
“Yes, sir.” Friedrich said. “I will bring lunch up soon. Would you like to have us prepare the balcony?”
“No. I want her lounging in bed.”
Friedrich nodded. “We will get several trays and make her as comfortable as possible.”
I patted his back. “Good job.”
Friedrich had been working for me since my mother. When she passed, I kept him on. He was considered one of the best. He had graduated from the International Butler Academy with high honors. And he orchestrated one of the best lobster raviolis that I had ever tasted. I loved the dish so much I used to sit in the huge kitchen and watch him prepare the meal as I sipped a fine glass of wine.
Friedrich made each ravioli by hand, using fresh ingredients. While he could have just