Pregnant with a Royal Baby! (13 page)

He came out of the bathroom, took off the robe and to her surprise climbed back into bed. He leaned against the headboard and reached down to catch her shoulders and bring her up beside him.

Bending to kiss her, he said, “We have about ten minutes before breakfast gets here. Any thoughts on what we should do?” The sexy, suggestive tone of his voice told her exactly what he wanted to do.

She laughed. “I think I need to eat and get my strength back.”

He sobered suddenly. “You know, we rarely talk about your pregnancy. Are you okay? Really?”

“Millions of women have babies every day. I’m not special or in danger because I’m pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant with an heir to a throne.” He looked away, then glanced down at her again. “And even if he wasn’t heir to the throne, he’s
my
baby.”

He said it with such a proprietary air that her heart stuttered and she realized something unexpected. “So, like me, if we hadn’t accidentally gotten pregnant, you wouldn’t have had a child, either.”

“No. A baby was part of the deal with the princess of Grennady. But this is different.”

“I know.” She ran her hand along her tummy, which was no longer flat. Though only slightly swollen, after a little over three months, it was beginning to show signs of cradling a child. “Do you think we’re going to be good parents?”

“I don’t know about you but I’m going to be an excellent father.”

She laughed. “Conceited much?”

“I am going to be a good father,” he insisted indignantly. “I know every mistake my father made with me and my brother—especially my brother—and I won’t do those things.” He shifted against the headboard. “What about you?”

“My mother was aces as a mom.” She laughed. “Still is. My dad left a lot to be desired.”

“So you’re not going to drink?”

She shrugged. “I sometimes think it’s smarter to demonstrate responsible behavior than to avoid something tricky like alcohol.”

“Whew. For a while there I thought you were going to tell me I was going to have to give up drinking until our kid was in college or something.”

Thinking of all the times she’d seen him come to the apartment and head directly to the bar, she turned slightly so she could look him in the eye. “It wouldn’t hurt you to cut down. Maybe not drink in the afternoon.”

“My job is stressful.”

“Scotch isn’t going to take that away.”

“But it makes me feel better.”

She peeked up at him again. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Some days. Others not so much. Those days it’s better to keep a clear head.”

“You deal with some real idiots?”

“Most of the people in our parliament come from old oil money. They care about two things. Keeping their families wealthy and keeping our waterways safe so that they can keep their families wealthy.”

She laughed. “You’re making fun, but it makes sense.”

“Right after my mother died there was a problem with pirates.”

“Pirates!” For that, she sat up and gave him her full attention. “I love pirates!”

He gave her a patient look. “These pirates aren’t fun like Jack Sparrow. They’re ruthless. Cutthroat. There was a particularly nasty band all but making it impossible for tankers to get through without paying a ‘fee’ for safe passage. The papers exploded with criticism of my dad for not taking a firm hand. Parliament called for his resignation. And he sat in his quarters, staring at pictures of my mom, having all his meals brought up, not changing out of sweats.”

“Holy cow.” Entranced now, she shimmied around to sit cross-legged on the bed so she could look directly at him as he spoke. “What happened?”

“On the last second of what seemed to be the last day before he would have been required to face down parliament, my dad sent the military to destroy the pirate ships. It was a war that lasted about forty-five minutes. He bombed the boats until there was nothing left but smoke and an oil slick.”

“Wow.”

“Then he sent the military to the country that was aiding and abetting, and just about blew them off the map.”

Two raps sounded on the door. Dominic pulled away. “That would be breakfast. You wait here.”

“You’re bringing me breakfast in bed?”

He tilted his head. “It looks like I am.”

She saw it then. Not just his total confusion over his feelings for her, but the reason for it. He’d said before that his dad had made a mistake that he did not intend to repeat. This was it. Except she couldn’t tell if the mistake was grieving his dead wife or being in love with his wife so much that he’d grieved her.

Dominic returned, rolling a cart covered with a white linen tablecloth into the room. He pulled a bed tray from beneath the cart and said, “I’m about to put bacon and eggs on this tray, so get yourself where you want to be sitting.”

Still cross-legged in the middle of the bed, she patted a spot in front of her. “I like to be able to look at you when we talk.”

“So you’re going to want me to take off the robe while we eat?”

She pointed to herself. “I’m not dressed.”

“You’re certainly not dressed to receive company. But I like you that way.”

The warmth of his feelings for her sent a shudder of happiness through her. He put the tray on the bed in front of her, lifted a lid from a plate of food and set that on the tray.

He motioned to the cart. “There’s a variety of juices, pastries, toasts, fruit. What else would you like?”

“Just a bottle of water.”

One of his eyebrows rose. “No fruit?”

“Oh, so suddenly you’re not so unhappy with me eating fruit.”

“I wasn’t unhappy that you were eating fruit the day you fainted. I was unhappy that you seemed to be eating only fruit. You and the baby need a balanced diet.”

Her spirits lifted again. She liked talking about the baby as a baby, not the next heir to Xaviera’s throne. She patted her tummy. “I know exactly what to eat.”

* * *

Though Dom took three calls after they ate and while Ginny showered, he couldn’t shake the glorious feeling that he really didn’t have to do anything for two whole weeks.

When she came out of the bathroom, dressed in a pretty sundress, he caught her shoulders and kissed her deeply before he pulled away and said, “I love the dress, but why don’t you slip into a bikini and we’ll sit on the deck and get some sun?”

She smiled cautiously. “Okay.”

Unexpected fear skittered through him. “What’s wrong?”

“Honestly, I have no idea what we’re supposed to be doing.”

“We can do anything we want, which is why I suggested sitting on the deck, getting some sun. I haven’t had a vacation in a long time and just sitting in the sun for a few hours sounds really nice.”

She bounced to her tiptoes and brushed a quick kiss across his mouth. “Bring a book.”

He laughed. “I’m not
that
unaccustomed to taking a break.”

“Good.” She turned to go back into the bathroom/dressing room, closet area.

Needing to get dressed himself, he followed her.

She stopped in front of a rack of clothes—her clothes—that now hung there. She frowned. “Did you unpack for me while I showered?”

“No. Servants must have done it. There’s an entrance in the other side of the closet. Obviously, they came in, did what needed to be done and left.”

She turned slightly and smiled at him. “So your privacy isn’t really privacy at all.”

“I have minions scurrying everywhere.”

He meant it as a joke, but his comment caused her head to tilt. That assessing look came to her face again, but he took it as her trying to adjust to everything.

He was glad for that. Two years was a long time, and she’d need to be acclimated to everything around them—around him—in order to be casual in public.

Honesty compelled him to say, “You really won’t get much in the way of privacy.”

She smiled. “Do you think a guidance counselor in a school with two thousand kids ever gets privacy?”

He laughed. “At home.” He winced. “At least I hope no one bothered you at home.”

“It was never a bother to have someone contact me at home. If one of my kids thought enough to call me or come by, it was usually because they were so happy about something they wanted to share.” She raised her gaze to meet his. “Or they were in trouble. And if they were, I wanted to help.”

“That sounds a heck of a lot like my job. But multiply your two thousand by a thousand.”

She nodded. “That’s a lot of people.”

He said, “All of them depending on me,” then watched as she absorbed that.

“That’s good for me to know.”

“And understand. These people depend on me. I will not let them down.”

As easy as breathing, she slid out of the sunny yellow dress and, naked, lifted a bikini out of one of the drawers.

He’d seen her naked, of course; they’d spent the night making love and the morning talking on his bed. What was odd was the strange sense of normalcy that rippled around him. He’d never pictured himself and the princess of Grennady sharing a dressing room. Even if they made love, she’d be dressing in the suite across from his, if only because she was as pampered as he was. Her wardrobe for a two-week cruise wouldn’t have been four suitcases. It would have been closer to ten.

But Ginny was simple. Happy. And so was he. Not with sex. Not with the fact that living as a man and wife for real would make the ruse that much easier. He was happy with the little things. Breakfast in bed. The ability to be honest. Dressing together for a morning that would be spent reading fiction.

It was the very fact that these things were so foreign to him that grounded him to the reality that he shouldn’t get used to them. In two years all this would be gone.

For the first time, he understood why Ginny had campaigned to make this marriage real. They’d never, ever have this again. He’d be a divorced prince, eventually king, who’d take mistresses while he ran a country and raised a son. And she’d be the king’s ex-wife, mother of the heir to the throne.

“You know it’s really going to be hard for you to get dates after we divorce.”

She turned with a laugh. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing.” He walked back to the section of the dressing room that held his clothes and pulled out a pair of swimming trunks. He couldn’t believe he’d thought of that. What she chose to do when they separated was her business. But he knew it might be a good thing for
her
to start thinking about that. Not just to remind her that this wasn’t going to last but to get her realizing the next stage of her life wouldn’t be easy.

* * *

They spent a fun, private two weeks on the yacht, with Dom called away only three or four times for phone calls from members of parliament. Otherwise, he’d been casual, restful and sexy.

When the royal helicopter touched down on the palace grounds, Dom and Ginny were greeted by the whir of cameras and a barrage of questions from reporters who stood behind the black iron fence surrounding the property.

Stepping out of the helicopter, helped by Dom, who took her hand to guide her to the steps, she smiled at the press.

“You look great! Very suntanned!”

She waved at them. “Don’t worry. I used sunblock.”

The reporters laughed.

Dom said, “We had a great time.”

Ginny watched the reporters go slack jawed as if totally gob smacked by his answer. Then she realized they weren’t accustomed to him talking to them outside of the press room or parliament.

As they walked to the palace behind bodyguards dressed casually in jeans and black T-shirts—with leather holsters and guns exposed—she turned to him. “That was kind of you to talk to them, Your Majesty.”

He sniffed. “I’m rested enough that I threw them a bone.”

She laughed. “You should rest more often.”

They reached the palace. A bodyguard opened the door and they stepped into the cool air-conditioned space.

She took a long breath of the stale air. “I miss the ocean.”

He dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “The yacht is at your disposal anytime you want.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No.” He stopped walking and caught her hand. He kissed the knuckles. “No.”

When their gazes met, she knew he thought the same thing he did. Two years would be over soon enough. But she couldn’t be happy, be herself, make this relationship work, if it was permanent. And neither could he.

They’d been granted a very short window of time to be happy, but two years of perfection was a lot more than some people got.

So she raised herself to her tiptoes, kissed his cheek and said, “Go visit your dad. Get the rundown on what happened while we were away and I’ll be waiting for you for supper tonight.”

CHAPTER TEN

T
HEY
SETTLED
INTO
a comfortable routine that was so easy, Dominic forgot this was supposed to be difficult. Dressing for the royal family’s annual end-of-summer gala, he held out his arms to Ginny as naturally as breathing and she locked his cuff links.

“I heard your mother made it in this afternoon.”

Ginny glanced up at him, then shook her head. “She didn’t want to miss too much class time, so she only took two days off. Your father sent the jet and she got here about an hour ago. She almost got here too late to dress because she keeps forgetting that we’re seven hours ahead of her.”

He grunted. “She’ll get used to it.”

Her tummy peeped out a bit when her dress flattened against it as she turned to walk away. He caught her hand and spun her to face him again, his hand falling to the slight swelling. “What’s this?”

She laughed. “I thought the flowing dress would hide the fact that I’m starting to show.”

Emotion swelled in his chest, but he held it back, more afraid of it than he cared to admit. “You shouldn’t hide it. Everybody’s waiting to see it.”

She groaned. “Everybody’s waiting to see me get fat? Thanks for the reminder that I’ll be getting fat in front of the world.”

He grabbed his jacket and motioned her out of their bedroom. “That’s one way of looking at it. The other is to realize that since everybody’s so eager to see you gain weight, you now have full permission to eat.”