“My Queen, please look at me,” King Richard pleaded, his hand shaking. He had been through a lot in the past five months but loosing Ziva was still his worse nightmare.
Ziva lifted up her head, their eyes meeting for the first time since they rescued him.
“It was not consensual, I swear,” he said softly, sadness evident in his voice.
Ziva sighed, her heart breaking for him. “I know, My King, I know.”
“You know?” he asked, surprised. Even though he put a bullet through Catherine’s head without a second thought, he still expected his wife to go ballistic that the woman who now lay lifeless on the floor was carrying his child.
“We’ve been married for sixteen years and apparently I am crazy,” Ziva said, shrugging her shoulders and confusing him more.
“You are not crazy, Your Highnes
