§ § § -- September 24, 2003

Roarke had been watching his daughter all morning; she had come in without her usual sparkle, and her normal exuberance in her job was missing. A couple of times she had stopped where she was and wrapped both hands around her abdomen, wincing a little. Now, when he suggested lunch, she winced again and shook her head. "No, I don't think so," she said softly. "I'm not really hungry, and I don't feel all that great."

Roarke paused to look at her askance. "Why not?" he asked.

Leslie glanced at him and shrugged listlessly. "I got my period," she said. "Cramps and like that. They always interfere with my appetite."

Roarke nodded; he remembered many such instances from her teen years. "Perhaps you should take something," he suggested.

"It wouldn't help," she murmured, surprising him. "I'll stay in here and keep an eye on the phone and so on, if you want to have lunch."

For a moment he studied her, then asked, "Leslie, tell me, child, what's wrong?"

She met his gaze for one startled instant before shaking her head. "It's nothing, Father, really. Once the first couple of days are over I'm fine."

"Leslie," he said, with just a hint of sternness, "don't dissemble. I've been watching you all morning, and there's more to it than just physical discomfort, isn't there?" He fielded the trapped stare she gave him, and smiled slightly. "Sit down, Leslie, and tell me."

For a moment or two he thought she would balk, and was prepared to counteract that; but then she drooped and wilted quietly into a chair. "I first got it this morning," she said unhappily. "I've been…Christian and I…" She turned red and slanted a glance at him from behind her bangs. "I think Christian's getting a little frustrated with me, because I want to have a baby. I'm ready to get pregnant, and every night I talk Christian into…" She stopped again; Roarke took pity on her.

"So you've been attempting to conceive," he guessed, "but you haven't explained this to Christian, have you, my child?"

"No," she said, very softly, hanging her head.

"Leslie," Roarke said gently, "you do realize that it will be Christian's child as much as yours should you conceive, don't you? Don't you think that, as the father of the baby you want, he has every right to know? Why haven't you told him?"

Leslie struggled for a moment, her face flaming. Painfully she looked at him and said, "I know it doesn't matter so much to him. He doesn't really care if we have a baby or not. But I want one, Father. I want so much to have Christian's baby. It's not so hard to talk him into making love, but now he's asking me why I seem to have to do it every night. I already miss some nights with him, on the weekends because I'm here, and I don't know…those could be the nights I might have conceived. Now I know for a fact I'm not pregnant…again." Her eyes filled with tears and she cried plaintively, "Why can't I have a baby? What's wrong with me that no matter how much I try, I can't conceive a child?"

"You saw Dr. Lambert last week, sweetheart, didn't you?" Roarke asked, and she nodded, jarring her tears loose. "Did you mention it to her?"

"I asked her to do whatever tests were necessary to find out if I'm really sterile and completely unable to get pregnant," Leslie said. "She told me I should be patient, since the results won't come back till at least next month. But she asked me a lot of questions, and she said there was no obvious reason I couldn't conceive and carry a baby to term. So she had to do the tests on me, and maybe then we'll know something…but I don't understand it. And what if it's not physical? What if there's something else? I mean…suppose it's not a medical thing, or a…even a psychological cause? I mean…" She floundered, trying to find the words, while Roarke waited patiently. "I thought maybe Teppo's mother did something…that obsession she had with bringing him back to life, and that weird ritual she had about collecting the tears when we got married, like some kind of voodoo. I didn't think about it that much, but I thought there was something wrong with me then. And then later I read some weird story about how some women are allergic to their husbands, in a way…if you know what I mean…and I thought, I knew it sounded silly, but I thought maybe that was the problem with me and Teppo. But now I can't conceive with Christian either, and more than anything I want to give him a son or daughter. I can't believe he wouldn't want…" She broke off and hung her head again, her tears flowing. "I love him so much, Father. I want to be the mother of his children."

"And," Roarke prompted, "Christian is less focused on this than you are, am I correct? I believe he has mentioned that he's quite happy simply to have you in his life."

"But I…" Leslie began.

"Leslie," Roarke broke in, "you're in danger now of letting this become the overriding concern in your marriage. And if you don't talk about it with Christian, his frustration will only grow, until it turns perhaps into resentment and begins to erode your marriage. Leslie, you must realize that this, almost more than anything else in your lives together, concerns him every bit as much as it does you, and you are doing him a great injustice if you don't share this with him. Even if he can't help you, at least he will understand, and there is no doubt that he will sympathize with you and be able to work through this with you. If you continue to shut him out, you'll find you may have done damage that will be difficult—perhaps even impossible—to repair. Don't betray his trust in you, for it was difficult enough for him to learn to let down the last of his guard at all. It will take only one serious incident to destroy that, and you may very well hurt him beyond his ability to recover."

She had turned pale and was staring at him with honest fright glittering through her tears. "He…he's never said…I didn't know it was so…"

"He wouldn't," Roarke said kindly. "Most men are raised not to expose their emotions or insecurities, especially their innermost ones. But that vulnerability is there nonetheless, and it's very real. Before you do irreparable harm, confide in him. When Christian comes this evening to take you home, explain things to him. He loves you very deeply, Leslie, and I have no doubt he will do what he can to comfort and reassure you. Give him a chance to try to help you. It may not change the situation, but believe me—you will feel far better for allowing him to at least share the problem with you."

Leslie nodded, her eyes welling with fresh tears. "I hope it's not too late."

Roarke smiled. "I'm sure it's not. Now, suppose you come out with me and try to eat at least a light lunch. If Mariki says something, I'll see to it that she ceases." He smiled teasingly at her, and she managed a slight, waterlogged smile and accompanied him out to the veranda.

‡ ‡ ‡

Christian saw immediately that Leslie wasn't feeling too well and agreed with Roarke that it was probably best to take her straight home. On the way there he gently cajoled her into telling him about her day, and smiled with visible relief when she willingly did so. At home, however, she seemed to fall into a pensive mood again, and he watched her in concern and perhaps a touch of wariness throughout the evening. To his surprise, she decided to go up to bed at a surprisingly early hour, and he stared after her as she went up the steps, his concern rising. He sat for a moment, absently tapping a foot on the floor, considering his wife's odd demeanor, and finally made a decision. Shutting off the television set, he turned out the lights and followed her up.

Leslie had just finished brushing her teeth and was emerging from the bathroom when he topped the spiral stairway. "Hi," she murmured with a wan smile.

"Hi," he replied, studying her. She climbed into the bed, settled under the sheet and curled up in a nearly fetal position on one side, closing her eyes. Christian stared at her, waiting, but she lay still, one arm curled around her abdomen.

Finally he realized that she wasn't going to present him with the pleas for lovemaking that he had, in spite of himself, almost come to dread, and surprise drove him to her side of the bed, where he knelt and laid a hand on her arm. "My Rose, what's wrong?" he asked in a soft voice. "Are you sick?"

"A little," Leslie murmured, opening her eyes. "I got my period this morning, and I've been cramping like a fiend all day. Couldn't eat much."

"Ah, I see," Christian said with realization. "Did you take anything?"

"No," she murmured. "Didn't see the point."

She sounded so listless that he began to worry. "Leslie, I'm sorry you don't feel well, but I wish you'd come clean to me once and for all. I can see from looking at you that it's not entirely physical discomfort that's affecting you. You look unhappy, and I want to know why. Tell me, and maybe I can help."

Leslie focused directly on him for the first time and a guilty expression crept across her face. "You've already tried your utmost to help…I kept making you do it," she confessed, her eyes gleaming with new tears. "You're probably secretly happy I'm not feeling well, since you get a break from me making passes at you all the time…" She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to bury her face in her pillow.

Christian swallowed guiltily and leaned over to kiss her cheek. Rising enough to sit on the edge of the bed, he pulled her into a sitting position and cradled her against him; she didn't resist, but she sat huddled into herself. "You always told me everything before," he said softly, smoothing her hair. "Don't stop now. Don't cry, my Rose…tell me about it."

"I…I kept asking you to make love with me every night because I was hoping I'd get pregnant," Leslie said, her voice a little muffled against his shirt. "I want…I'm ready for us to start a family. But I guess I forgot to ask if you were ready too."

Christian chuckled at that and slowly stroked her back. "You know I'm happy with you alone, but believe me, my darling, if you did fall pregnant, I'd be glad of that as well. I realize you want a baby, and I suppose I can understand that. But I must admit, I thought you were as happy that we had each other…"

"I am," Leslie cried, staring up at him with wide, wet eyes. "I wish I could make you understand how crazy in love with you I am. Just to have you in my life is a miracle, to have you as my husband is a dream come true. I've never been anything but happy with you."

That finally gained her a smile, and he cradled her anxious face in his hands. "You do my heart good, saying that. But now you want more, is that the problem?"

"I'm not sure I can explain it," Leslie said, catching a corner of her lower lip between her teeth. "I…I want to give you a child, a son or a daughter…someone who's a part of each of us. I want to be the mother of your children. I'd feel as if…we combined the best of ourselves in our baby. I love you, Christian, and I want to give you that ultimate gift."

Christian considered that for a moment, smiling a little. His eyes warmed when he refocused on her. "If I were ever going to sire children, I'd want no one but you to be their mother, my darling, believe me. I don't want to make you feel that you're alone in the desire for children, but for the moment it isn't my primary concern. Perhaps I never had the time to really mull over the idea. I spent so many years trying to find the one woman I could love, and building my business—though even that was secondary to the quest. Then I found you, and I fell in love with you almost instantly—only to find myself bartered off to a stranger barely out of her childhood. And then I felt that nothing mattered—only you. Trying to convince you of how much I loved you, trying to make you believe that my situation was not my doing—trying to keep from losing you." He sighed. "I think that's when I understood that if I could just have you as my wife, everything else fell far down in importance…yes, even becoming a father. Now that you are my wife, my life is full. Even now, more than two years after our marriage, my life is still full, and I'm still content to have you, and I don't mind if we don't have children. But I can see that it's become important to you now."

"You don't want to have kids?" Leslie ventured.

Christian frowned. "There's a difference, Leslie, between lowering the priority I place on fatherhood and not wanting it at all. Not once have I ever stated that I didn't want children. I'm trying to tell you that I can accept it perfectly well if we don't. That does not mean I don't ever want offspring. Do you understand me?"

She nodded faintly, looking a little apprehensive. "I guess it just means you don't really want them right now…"

Christian's hands slid from her face to her shoulders, and he drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes, breathing out again and then focusing on her once more. "Leslie, I don't think I'm getting through to you. Don't you hear me? Let me put it this way: if tomorrow you were to learn that you're pregnant after all, I would be happy. Do you understand now? Do you believe me?"

"You would?" Leslie whispered, blinking. Hope filled her expression.

"Yes, I would," Christian said, gentling his voice a little. "I know you aren't pregnant right now. It's not the end of the world to me. I think perhaps I'm only asking you not to obsess over this issue. Yes, I know you want to be pregnant. Yes, I know it's important to you to be able to bear our child. But it's so filling your mind that it seems to be all you can think about. Don't you realize that that in itself can affect your ability to conceive? Not only that, but it almost seems to me that you might be trying to prove something. This has come about since you learned that Lauren's pregnant, hasn't it? Now that your only remaining childless friend is to be a mother, you're dying to join the club."

She flinched, bit her lip hard and hung her head. "I guess you're right."

He leaned forward and drifted the lightest of kisses onto her cheek. "For you to have a baby, my Leslie Rose, would be a very happy event, just as much for me as for you. But I wish you wouldn't succumb to the idea that it defines you as a woman, because it doesn't. First, before anything else, you're Leslie Enstad. You're my cherished wife, the woman I love beyond belief, a woman with soul and spirit, a generous heart and a beautiful character. You've always been confident in yourself and you know your own mind, and that above all else drew me to you. You never let my status as a prince intimidate or influence you; you saw Christian Enstad, not Crown Prince Christian, and that's what I was losing hope in finding when I came here and met you. Those qualities in you touched me, and before I knew it I was in love at long last. Don't lose that woman I love so deeply. You are Leslie, my very best friend, my lover and my wife, your own person, before anything else. Becoming a mother should be another element in that, not the sole definition of who Leslie Enstad is. Please tell me you see the point I'm trying to make."

Christian waited, watching her staring at him in wonder while she absorbed his words. Then, slowly, her hand trembling a little, Leslie reached up and tentatively laid her palm on his cheek. "I do see your point, I really do. No one ever said anything more beautiful to me. I love you, Christian…my amazing, incredible husband. Of all the women in the world who could have won your heart, somehow I did…I don't know how, but I did."

"Oh yes, my darling, you certainly did," Christian assured her, smiling fully. "And you most certainly do know how you won my heart, because I just told you."

She reared back slightly, her eyes widening further, and then she giggled softly, making him grin with as much relief as amusement. "You got me there," she admitted good-naturedly, leaning into him and hugging him. "You made me feel so much better. Thank you, Christian…and thank you for all your patience with me, even though I've probably tested it beyond endurance all month."

Christian laughed softly. "I'm sure you'll test it again before too long, but I'll forgive you, because I love you so very much. Now here, lie down and rest a little, and don't worry. We have plenty of time." He eased her back onto her pillow, leaned over her and planted a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. "I have a little work to do in the library here. If you need me, just call me, but try to sleep, all right? You'll feel better in the morning."

"I feel better now," Leslie said, smiling at him. "I love you, my darling."

"I love you too, my Rose," he assured her. "Get some sleep, now." He smoothed back her hair a few times, then smiled at her, arose and headed for the library.