Nando grinned. “But I’ve all my teeth. And they’re remarkably straight and neat, too. All my women compliment them.”
“I imagine they do,” he allowed icily. “However, I’m referencing what will happen when I slam my fist into your mouth for making a jest when my lady wife is down that hall and behind those doors birthing my child.”
“You love me too much to punch me in the mouth,” Nando countered, unperturbed.
And damn him, he was right.
“I’m not in the mood for levity,” he snapped at his brother.
“Whenareyou in the mood for levity?” Nando grumbled with good-natured humor.
He didn’t hesitate with his response. “Whenever my wife is near.”
Tansy made him smile. She filled him with happiness, the sort he’d never known possible. They’d been married in secret one year ago as the rebellion had unfolded in Boritania. The victory, as Maxim had predicted, had been swift. Within months, Theodoric St. George had assumed the throne that was rightfully his, and Gustavson had been not just removed from power, but from the earth. St. George had taken an English wife as his queen, and Princess Anastasia was happily wedded to her English puppy, Archer Tierney. Love stories all around. But none so great, in Maxim’s less-than-modest opinion, as his and Tansy’s.
He was admittedly biased.
“Is now the wrong time to remind you that you have me to thank for my matchmaking efforts?” Nando asked as they continued pacing.
“Your matchmaking efforts,” he repeated incredulously. “Need I remind you that your so-called matchmaking efforts resulted in my wife almost leaving me?”
“You needed a kick in the arse. Only think of how miserable you’d have been had you wed the princess instead, all because you had some cork-brained notion about duty.”
He glowered at his vexing brother. “Duty is not cork-brained. I was doing what I believed was in the best interest of the kingdom at the time. We desperately needed stability in Boritania and an ally on the throne.”
And Theodoric St. George had proven a most reliable and worthy ally. Already, he had created vast improvements in the kingdom. Boritania and her people were beginning to flourish again, and Varros rejoiced in it. The last of the loyalist rebels had been arrested for treason, and a much-needed sense of peace had blanketed the land.
“But now, you can see that marrying Tansy was in the best interest of Varros,” Nando said knowingly.
“And I suppose you would claim responsibility for my marrying her as well,” he drawled, secretly grateful for the distraction his brother provided.
He was maddening.
And reckless.
And irresponsible.
Not to mention depraved.
But Nando was his brother, and he’d been a steadfast presence in Maxim’s life.
Nando beamed at him. “Of course I would. I am, after all, responsible. Someone had to break through that thick head of yours with some common sense. As a reward for my service to the kingdom, I humbly request you name your firstborn in my honor.”
“Ha!” Maxim bit out a reluctant laugh at the suggestion.
“Only think… If the babe is a girl, she can be called Ferdinanda, and if the babe is a boy, he can be called Ferdo.”
He shook his head. “You’ve been giving this thought.”
“Why wouldn’t I? You aren’t the only one eagerly awaiting the birth of my niece or nephew.”
“Those are terrible names,” he said without heat.
Nando grinned at him. “Give it some time. Ferdinanda is a particular favorite, although Ferdo certainly possesses an elegance all its own.”
“I suggest you nameyourfirstborn after yourself,” he countered with a snort.
“I’ve no intention of marrying,” Nando said easily. “One woman could never tame me.”
