Pregnant with a Royal Baby! (14 page)

She stopped and pivoted to face him. “Oh, my gosh! I never thought of it that way. For the next five months I can eat on camera.”

“Subjects will love seeing you eat on camera.”

She rubbed her hands together with glee. “Bring on the steaks.”

He opened the apartment door and led her into the echoing foyer. “Should I tell them to give you two from now on?”

She inclined her head. “Might not want to start big. I should work my way up to the second steak.”

They entered the elevator. As it descended she slid her arm through his. The door opened and they made their way to his father’s quarters, where her mother was holding court. He thought it odd for the real royal, his dad, to be letting Ginny’s mom monopolize the conversation. Still, he walked into a room to the sound of his brother laughing and his dad trying to hide a laugh.

“Mother, please tell me you’re not telling off-color jokes.”

Rose gasped at the sound of her daughter’s voice. When she turned and saw the same thing Dom had seen that evening—the slight evidence of a baby bump—her eyes misted. She raced over and put her hands on Ginny’s tummy.

“Oh, my gosh.”

As she had with him, Ginny groaned. “Great. Just great. Everybody’s going to notice.”

“Subjects are eagerly waiting for this,” Dom’s father said, sounding happier than Dom had ever heard him.

“That’s what I told her.” He nodded to the bartender to get him a Scotch but stopped midnod and shook his head. He didn’t need a drink. Didn’t want a drink. Not out of respect for her sensitivity because of her dad’s alcoholism. But out of a sense of unity. This child was both of theirs, but technically she was doing all the work, all the sacrificing. He walked to the bar, got two orange juices in beautiful crystal and handed one to Ginny.

Alex laughed. “You’re drinking orange juice?”

He glanced at his brother’s double Scotch. “Maybe I’d like to have a clear head in case we go to war?”

“Bah. War!” The king batted a hand. “That miserable old sheikh who’s been threatening had better watch his mouth.”

Ginny spun to face him. “A sheikh’s been threatening?”

“Rattling his saber.” Dom took a sip of his orange juice.

She stepped back, tugging on his sleeve for him to join her out of the conversation circle. “Is that what the orange juice is about?”

He looked at the glass, then at her and decided to come clean. “No, as my dad said, the sheikh is just being an idiot. I realize you’re doing all the heavy lifting with this pregnancy. I thought I’d show a little unity, if only in spirit.”

“Oh.” She kissed his cheek. “Now, there’s something you should tell the press.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No. If they like baby bumps, they’ll love hearing that you’re sacrificing your Scotch.”

“This sacrifice isn’t permanent. It’s only for tonight.”

“Still, it’s charming.”

“Oh, please. It took me decades to lose the Prince Charming title. I’d rather not go there again.” He pointed at his brother. “Alex lives with it now.”

“Still...” She sucked in a breath and caught his gaze. “Thank you.”

He displayed the glass. “It’s a little thing. Not much really.” Yet he could see it meant a lot to her, and knowing that gave him a funny feeling inside. Add that to his ability to see her baby bump every time she shifted or moved and he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her.

His father led them to the ballroom, where they entered to a trumpet blast. After an hour in a receiving line, he noticed Ginny looked a little tired and was glad when they walked to the dais. His father made a toast. As minister of finance, he gave a longer toast.

The press was escorted out as dinner was served and, relieved, Dom sat back. Watching Ginny dig into her pork chops with raspberry sauce served with mashed potatoes and julienned steamed carrots, he laughed.

“You’re going to be finished before I get three bites into mine.”

“Everyone said pregnancy would make me hungry all the time. They should have said ravenous.”

He chuckled.

She eyed his dish. “You got a bigger serving than I did.”

“Wanna switch plates?”

She sighed. “No.”

“Seriously. I’ll save some. If you’re still hungry you can have it.”

“I’m gonna get big as a house.”

“In front of the whole world,” he agreed good-naturedly. But when she was done eating, he slid a piece of his pork to her plate. “I don’t want you to faint from hunger while we’re dancing.”

But as he said the words, he got a funny sensation. A prickling that tiptoed up his spine to the roots of his hair. He glanced to the left and right, not sure what he was looking for. He saw only dinner servers in white jackets and gloves. People milling about the formal dining room.

Calling himself crazy, he went back to the entertainment that was watching his wife eat and didn’t think of the prickling until he and Ginny were on the dance floor an hour later. With everyone’s attention on his father and Ginny’s mother, who were doing their own version of a samba, he felt comfortable enough to enjoy holding Ginny, dancing with her. He’d spun her around twice, then dipped her enough to make her laugh, and there it was again. A tingling that raced up his back and settled in his neck.

Still, he didn’t mention it to Ginny. They danced and mingled with the dignitaries invited to their annual gala, including the sheikh currently giving them trouble.

She curtsied graciously when introduced. “I was hoping you could settle your differences tonight.”

The sheikh’s gaze bounced to Dominic’s. Dominic only shrugged. She hadn’t really said anything
too
bad.

The sheikh caught Ginny’s hand and kissed it. “We don’t talk business at the gala.”

She bowed apologetically. “I’m so sorry. But since I was hoping that settling this agreement might get me two weeks on the yacht with my husband I guess I didn’t see it as business.”

The sheikh laughed. “I like a woman who doesn’t mind asking for what she wants.”

Ginny smiled. Dominic took the cue and said, “Perhaps we could meet first thing Monday morning.”

“If your father’s schedule is free.”

“I’m sure it will be for you.”

An hour later, seeing that Ginny was tired, Dominic excused himself to his father who—along with Ginny’s mother—thought it was a good idea for her to leave.

He took her hand and led her down a few halls to their elevator. When they were securely behind the door of their apartment, he tugged on her hand and brought her to him for a long happy kiss.

“You do realize you just accomplished what diplomacy hasn’t been able to get done in three weeks.”

“Does this mean I get my three weeks on the yacht?”

“I thought it was two.”

“I want three.”

“You’re getting greedy.”

She curtsied. “I just like my time with you, Your Majesty. And your undivided attention.”

He scooped her off her feet and carried her to their bedroom. “I’m about to give you all the undivided attention you can handle.”

* * *

The next morning Ginny awakened as she had every day since their marriage, wrapped in his arms. At six, Dom rolled out of bed and used the bathroom. He slid into a robe and, from seeing his daily routine, Ginny knew he’d gone to their everyday dining room. Sliding into a pretty pink robe, Ginny followed him.

“Not sleepy this morning?”

Rather than take her chair, she slid to his lap. “I feel extraordinarily good.”

“So maybe we should do what we did last night every night.”

“Maybe we should.”

The sound of the servant’s door being opened brought Ginny to her feet. As she walked to her side of the table, a young girl wheeled in a cart containing his breakfast of bacon and eggs, plus bowls of fruit, carafes of fruit juices, and plates of pastries and breads.

She smiled at Ginny expectantly. Knowing she was waiting for her breakfast order, Ginny said, “I’ll just eat what we have here.”

Dom glanced over. “No bacon? No eggs?”

“Wait until you see now many bagels I eat.”

He laughed as the serving girl left.

As always, their meal was accompanied by fourteen newspapers. She grabbed
USA TODAY
as he took London’s
the
Times.
Their table grew quiet until Dom flipped a page and suddenly said, “What?”

Busy putting cream cheese on a bagel, Ginny didn’t even look over. “What’s the
what
for?”

He slammed the paper to the table and reached for the house phone behind him. “Sally, get up here.”

Ginny set down her bagel. “What’s going on?”

He shoved the paper across the table. She glanced down and saw a picture of her and Dom with their heads together as their dinners were served, a picture of her and Dom dancing, a picture of Dom leading her out the back door of the ballroom. All beneath the headline: The Affectionate Prince.

“At least they didn’t call you Prince Charming.”

He glared at her.

“Dom, I’m sorry. Your picture gets in the paper almost every day here in Xaviera. I’m missing the significance of this.”

“First, no press is allowed in that ballroom once dinner starts. So one of our employees got these pictures.”

As the ramifications of that sank in, she said, “Oh.”

“Second, look at that headline.”

“‘The Affectionate Prince’?” She caught his gaze. “When you want to be, you are affectionate.”

“No ruler wants to be thought of as weak.”

“Weak? It’s not weak to love someone.” Instantly realizing her mistake in saying the
L
word, Ginny shot her gaze to his. For a few seconds they just stared at each other, then he bounced from his seat, almost sending it across the room.

“This was exactly what I didn’t want to happen!”

Ginny said, “What?” not quite sure if the unexpected anger coursing through her made her bold or if she was just plain tired of skirting the truth. “Are you mad that your happiness shows? Or are you really that surprised or that angry that we fell in love?”

“I can’t love you.”

“Oh, really? Because I think you already do.”

There. She’d said it.

Their gazes met again, but this time his softened. He took his seat again. “Ginny. I can’t love you.”

Since she’d already made her position clear, she said nothing, only held his gaze.

“My dad loved my mother.”

“Oh, damn him for his cruelty.”

“Don’t make fun. When my mother got sick, my dad slipped away, let our country flounder because he was searching the globe for someone,
something
that could save his wife.”

“And you think that was weakness?”

“Call it what you want. Weakness. Distraction. Whatever.”

“How about normal human behavior?”

“Or a lack of planning.”

“You think your dad should have had a contingency plan in case his wife got sick?”

“I think he let pirates get a foothold because he put my mother first.”

“Oh, Dominic, of course he put his sick wife first.”

He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what she’d just said. “A king cannot put anyone ahead of his country. At the first sign of those pirates he should have involved the military.”

“Even though his wife, the woman he obviously adored, was dying? How could he have avoided scrambling to save her?”

His gaze rose until it met hers. “By not falling in love in the first place.”

Something fluttered oddly in her stomach. The conversation was making her sick and sad and scared. But the feeling went away as quickly as it came. “I see.”

“The stakes of this game, my life, are very high, Ginny. We don’t govern or rule our people as much as we protect them. I can’t afford a slip, a lapse.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “When I’m king I won’t get two private weeks on a yacht. I’ll get vacations that include video conferencing and daily briefings. I’ll get two hours, at most, in the sun. A twenty-minute swim.” He sucked in a breath. “And this is why I warned you. Even if I wanted to love you. Even if I fell head over heels for you...coming in second to a country isn’t like being second to a hobby. You would get very little of my time. It wouldn’t be worth loving me.”

Stunned, Ginny watched him toss his napkin to the table. “Where is Sally?”

Then he stormed out of the dining room because he didn’t have anything to give her.

And that was the truth he’d been trying to tell her all along.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

G
INNY
SAT
STARING
at her bagel when there was a knock on the apartment door. She expected it to be Sally, so when her mom walked into the dining room and said, “I thought we were going to swim this morning,” Ginny dropped her bagel to a plate.

“I’m not much in the mood.”

Her mom took a seat, grabbed a Danish pastry and popped a bite into her mouth. “First fight?”

“You know this isn’t a real relationship.”

“Oh, sweetie, of course it is. Get any man and woman involved in a plot or plan of any type and what results is a relationship.”

“Yeah, well. It’s short-term.”

“Why is this bothering you suddenly?” Her eyes narrowed. “You want to change the rules.”

Ginny rose from her seat. “I’m in my robe. I need to get some clothes on. Sally’s supposed to be coming up.”

“Dom was on his way out when he let me in.”

“He must have called Sally and told her he would come down to her.” She headed toward the bedroom. “I need to get dressed anyway.”

She wasn’t surprised when her mom followed her out of the dining room and into Dom’s bedroom.

Seeing the entire bed was happily rumpled, she faced Ginny. “Well, this is a change of plans.”

“You don’t really think we were going to be married and not sleep together, Mom.” She put her hand on her stomach and the strange flutter happened again.

“Honey, I knew you’d be sleeping together. I just didn’t think you realized it would happen.” She walked over. “What’s up with your tummy? You’re not sick, are you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. But every couple of minutes this morning I’ve been getting this strange flutter in my stomach.”