Married To The Mad Vampire Lord

Belle went into labor the afternoon of the second day after that night they sat together in the kitchen.

She'd had a low, persistent backache all morning, the kind that eerily reminded her of that unfortunate day she was running for her life. By late afternoon, a streak of blood-tinged mucus appeared, a bloody show. Her stomach turned. It was nature's quiet warning, a sign that labor might be drawing near.

By lunchtime, she had finally insisted on cooking this time, bored with having nothing to do. While she was in the kitchen, her first two distinguishable contractions came, twenty minutes apart

The second hit hard enough to perch her on the edge of a chair, where she sat trying to catch her breath for nearly a full minute. When it passed, she braced her back, rose awkwardly, and waddled into the front room to look for her husband.

She had learned from browsing countless books about pregnancy that panicking wasn't going to make it any easier, thus she went to find him calmly, hoping he had not gone out to feed like he normally did by this time of the day.

Belle was relieved to find him where she had hoped he would be when she reached.

He was working on the front porch, building the cradle he had promised to make for their unborn child before the baby arrived. She found him sitting cross-legged on the porch floor, humming a tune to himself as he sawed and carved the wood, a manual opened beside his leg.

Belle paused in the front doorway, watching him silently. He was humming a familiar song she recognized, his back turned to her as he worked. His dark blue hair peeked out from beneath the wide-brimmed hat that sat at a jaunty angle on the back of his head.

Sawdust clung to the brim, and the back of his black shirt was streaked with dirt from having crawled around under the house earlier to bring the equipment outside.

Every day, she found herself wondering how they had gotten here, and every day that passed, she tried not to let herself carry the fear that it could all end. She knew Rohan hadn't told her what had gone wrong in Nightbrook because he didn't want to shatter the illusion of their happiness either.

A day would come when they'd have to face it, and she could feel that when that day arrived, it would mark the end, of this little life of theirs tucked away in the mountains, far from everyone. It would be over, and they would have to return to reality.

Something tightened in her chest at the thought, but she stepped forward anyway. "Hubby," she called with a fond smile, like nothing at all was wrong with her.

He twisted at the waist, grinning at the sight of her. "Hello, my pretty doll," he teased, eyes glimmering.

She laughed, leaning against the doorframe. "Doll indeed, one shaped like a bloated goat."

"Get yourself over here," he said, dropping to a seated position with his legs stretched out across the floor, leaning back comfortably against the wall. He extended one dirt-smeared hand toward her, a playful grin tugging at his lips. They shared a look of quiet amusement. "Right here." He patted his lap invitingly.

Belle pushed off from the doorframe and carefully made her way across the cluttered floor, stepping around tools and scattered scraps of wood until she stood just above him.

"Sit right here on my lap," he repeated, patting the space again as she turned sideways, preparing to lower herself down.

"No, not that way," he chuckled, catching her ankle with a gentle grip. With a tug and a teasing smile, he guided her to straddle him properly. "This way. Come down here."

"Rohan..." she whispered, in alarm.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he said, sliding his hands to her hips and pulling her gently down. "I just want to kiss my wife."

He linked his wrists behind her waist, resting her rounded belly against his, while she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Rohan," she murmured, smiling down at him, "Sometimes I wonder if you are indeed insane."

"Damn right. Insane for you."

He lifted his mouth to hers for a long, drawn-out kiss, lips, tongues, and nibbling. She indulged him in kissing. It was something that had become a part of their daily routine. Her husband was insatiable. She couldn't so much as walk by without him waylaying her, and always pleasantly.

He was a devilishly good kisser. Belle had never given much time to study the way he kissed before. But now, with his mouth open and slow on hers, tongue stroking her deep, she noticed everything. Rohan didn't just kiss, he savored. He lingered, teased, then drew back like he could kiss her forever and never tire of it. Sometimes he murmured into the kiss, nuzzled her gently, parting from her lips as tenderly as he'd claimed them.

When the kiss finally ended, his nose was buried in her collar and his hat had fallen to the floor.

"My hands are dirty, or you know where they would be, don't you?" he whispered huskily.

Eyes closed, she tilted her face up and raked her fingers lightly through his hair. "Where?"

He bit gently at her collarbone, then teased with a grin, "Inside your skirt... I'm hungry for your chatte."

She laughed and gave him a playful shove on the chest. "Pervert! What do you think I came out here for?"

"To call me for lunch?" he said, leaning back to look into her hazel eyes, knowing she had been cooking in the kitchen, and her being out here could only mean she wanted him to come in and eat her cooking for the first time.

"What else do you think would bring me out here?"

"You miss me? Tsk, Isa, if that's the case, you should've told me you missed me and wanted me in the kitchen with you. But instead, you pinned me to the floor, trying to seduce me. Perverted wife." He clicked his tongue in fake displeasure.

"You are the biggest pervert in the whole wide world! You're the one who put me down here on your lap," she argued back.

He feigned outrage and reached for his hat, slapping it back onto his head. "Hell. Here I am, minding my own business, making a cradle, not bothering a soul, when suddenly this beautiful woman jumps onto me! And here she is calling me a pervert?"

"Do you want to know why I came out here?" she interrupted, her voice soft now.

"Why?" he humored her, stroking her hair, grinning.

"Lunch's ready."

"I knew it. You were here to call me for your amazing cooking. Let's go eat then, the cradle can wait a while," he said, attempting to rise, until she stayed on his lap, not standing.

"That's not all," she added, looking down at him with meaning.

"What is it?"

"My labor has started," she announced with a calmness of someone talking about the weather without any panic.

Rohan's playful grin instantly disappeared. His face went slack, like she had hit him across the Adam's apple with the wood around them.

"Isa. Are you serious? You shouldn't be sitting here! Did I hurt you when I pulled you down? Can you get up?"

She laughed at his frantic tone. "It's okay. The actual labor hasn't hit yet. I'm between contractions. Sitting here actually helped take my mind off them."

"Are you sure?" he asked, already moving to support her into standing. "Is it really time? I mean, can you tell it's time and not a false labor?"

"I'm certain. It's time, he's decided to come today."

"Hell be damned," he blinked, utterly thrown. "It's unexpected. I haven't prepared everything yet and..."

"Calm down, Rohan. We don't need all those things the book mentioned. I told you, I've witnessed a childbirth before and even assisted as a good Samaritan in Aragonia. I know what we actually need, and I had everything prepared yesterday while you were out."