The Spanish Duke's Virgin Bride(63)

‘You don’t feel like putty to me,’ she murmured innocently and then gasped with delight when he flipped her onto her back and demonstrated just who was the master of El Castillo de Leon.





EPILOGUE




ON THE first anniversary of their marriage, Javier picked roses for Grace from the gardens of the castillo, but the thorns cut his hands and she insisted that he spend the rest of the day in bed with her to recover.

On their second anniversary he picked roses again, and carefully removed the thorns before laying the bouquet on the bed where she was nursing their month-old son.

‘Rico’s cheeks are as soft as rose petals,’ she murmured when she handed Javier his son and buried her face in the blooms. ‘He’s so adorable, isn’t he? I hope we have lots more like him.’

‘Are you kidding? I couldn’t go through another birth like that,’ Javier muttered with a shudder as he recalled the agonising sixteen hours that he’d watched Grace suffer before Ricardo Herrera had finally made his entry into the world. He brushed his lips over Rico’s cheek and felt his heart clench with love that was mirrored in his eyes when he smiled at Grace. ‘We’ll love him with all our hearts, but I’m afraid he’s going to be an only child, querida.’ He placed the baby gently in his crib and moved towards the bed where his wife was waiting with open arms.

‘Nonsense. I want at least two more, and you know I always get my own way,’ Grace said cheerfully.

And eighteen months later she did just that when she gave birth to twin girls, Rosa and Susannah. The castillo rang with the sound of children’s laughter, and el Leon de Herrera never walked alone again.