Pregnant with a Royal Baby! (6 page)

She laughed. “I feel safer down here. No cameras. No one can see me through the windows.”

He felt it, too. Behind the tables and chairs between them and the doorway, he felt totally protected from the press.

She ate a few bites of her cookie, drank the entire bottle of water and held out her hand to him. “We can stand now.”

“We’re going to have to go back to the car though a crowd of reporters and photographers who just saw you faint. If you thought their questions were bad before this—” he caught her gaze “—now they are going to be horrific. A tidal wave of jumbled words and noisy cameras. Are you up for this?”

“I’m fine.”

“Right. As soon as we get home, I’m having you checked out by the doctor.”

“I would expect nothing less from a man accustomed to bossing people around.”

His fear for her wouldn’t recede and she didn’t seem to be taking any of this seriously. “Stop joking. You fainted.”

“On a hot day, after not eating.” She smiled suddenly, pushed herself to her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I’m fine.”

The unexpected kiss went through him like a warm spring breeze. He told himself not to make too much of it, but how could he not when color was returning to her cheeks and she was smiling, really smiling, for the first time since their argument that morning.

Wanting to get her home, Dominic said, “Let’s go.”

But before they could walk to the door, Marco hugged her and then Antonella hugged her. Dominic finally noticed the few stragglers sitting at the café tables, necks craned to see what was going on. One or two whispered, but in general, they’d given them privacy.

Leading her to the door, he addressed them, “Thank you all for your consideration.”

People nodded and smiled and a few said, “You’re welcome.” Then they reached the door. The lock clicked as Antonella sprang it.

He said, “Ready?”

Ginny nodded.

He opened the door to the whir of cameras and shouts of questions. “How are you?”

“Why did you faint?”

“What’s your last name?”

“Are you pregnant?”

Dominic’s steps faltered.

But Ginny slid her sunglasses on her face and smiled at them. “I didn’t eat lunch.” She turned to Dominic and entwined her arm with his. “Dom told me to eat lunch but—” She held out a leg. “Look at these jeans. They are to die for and I wanted them to fit.” She smiled again. “American girls, right? We love our jeans and we want them to look perfect.”

Then she turned them in the direction of his Mercedes. His bodyguards created a path for them to walk.

He opened the door for her.

She slid inside. Before Dom could close the door, she gave a final wave to the press. “I’m fine,” she called out to them. “And, I swear, I will eat before we come out again.”

Walking around the hood of his car, he heard the rumble of laughter. He peeked up to see the smiles of approval on the faces of those in the crowd. And why not? She was beautiful, approachable,
likable
.

But he also saw a few reporters frowning in his direction. He saw the ones on their cell phones talking feverishly.

He slid into the car. “You know your pregnancy’s out now, right?”

“Yup.” She caught his gaze. “Looks like we won’t need a second date.”

“You’re saying yes?”

She nodded.

He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank me. I have a feeling we’re in for one hell of a ride.”

CHAPTER FOUR

T
HEY
SCHEDULED
A
press conference for nine o’clock the next morning in the press room of the palace. The king announced his son’s marriage to Virginia Jones of Texas in the United States, a former guidance counselor. Then he gave the podium to Dominic.

As Ginny expected, the resounding cry that rose from the crowd was... “Is Ginny pregnant?”

Another man might have been cowed, embarrassed or even unprepared. Ginny knew Dom had rehearsed every possible scenario of this moment into the wee hours of the morning with someone from his staff.

So she wasn’t surprised when he smiled and said, “Yes.”

The swish and whir of cameras filled the room. Several people called, “Ginny, look here.”

But she kept her eyes trained on Dominic because that’s what
her
two hours of training the night before had been about. That and choosing something to wear. After a doctor had seen her and pronounced her well, a clothier had arrived with swatches and catalogs. Sally from the protocol office had wanted her in a raspberry-colored suit. The king had thought she’d look more dignified in a white suit. But she’d reminded them that she’d fainted because she was
pregnant
and had gotten too hot. Her choice for the press conference had been a simple green dress with thin straps and a pale green cardigan—which she could remove, she reminded the king—if she got too hot.

The king had scowled, but Dominic had suddenly said, “I think she’s right.”

All eyes had turned to him. He’d shrugged. “You’re not the ones who had to watch her fall. I barely caught her. I don’t think we want to risk having that happen again.”

Nope. If there was one thing Ginny knew, it was that she did not want to faint again. Seeing ten pictures of herself crumpling to a coffee-shop floor in the newspapers that morning had been enough to cure her of ever wanting to faint in public again.

But Dominic standing up for her choice had caused her breath to quietly catch. Her simple pregnancy might impact an entire kingdom—and maybe someday even the world—but this was her
baby
. And Dom’s.

When he stood up for her, he caught her gaze, and in that second a wave of feeling had almost made her dizzy. They’d created a child and were getting married—temporarily. He’d warned her not to spin fantasies of permanency with him, and she wasn’t, but with a baby on the way and so many people telling them what to do, she didn’t see how they could get through the next few months without forming a team.

Which made it a terrible, terrible thing that she’d compared him to her father. Because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop doing it. Not because she genuinely believed Dom was like her dad, but because she was so afraid. Living with her dad had been a nightmare. Only a fool would deliberately enter that kind of situation again.

So he couldn’t be like her dad. He
couldn’t.
Yet something about this situation, and Dom, set off warning signals that would not let her relax.

Watching Dominic speak now, she waited for his signal for her to join him at the podium. He fielded a question or two about how they met, then, just as they’d practiced, he turned to her with a smile and said, “Why don’t we have Ginny join us to help answer some questions?”

In her high-heeled white sandals that perfectly offset the pretty green dress, she carefully walked to the podium. He slid his arm around her waist, bringing her closer to the microphones. Questions filled the air.

“Have you found a dress?”

“Are you having morning sickness?”

She heard the questions, but looking up at Dominic, all she saw were those onyx eyes filled with expectation. Could she stand up for him? Would she stand up for him? Would she protect his reputation as the future king the way he’d stood up for her the night before? Was she willing to fully commit to the charade?

Just as she couldn’t quite get herself to trust him, the question in his eyes told her he didn’t entirely trust her, either.

Which made them even.

If there was one thing she’d learned about partnerships, it was that they ran best when the partners really were even. Oddly, this deal would work not because they trusted each other, but because they didn’t.

“Are you a real live Cinderella?”

That question made her laugh and brought her out of her reverie. She faced the sea of press crowded into the small room.

“Yes. I do feel like Cinderella. No, I haven’t even chosen a designer to make my dress. So I’ll need all four weeks before the wedding just to find something to wear.” When the reporters laughed, she smiled. “And no morning sickness.”

She paused long enough to give Dominic her best fake loving smile, deferring to him, the way she’d been taught to the night before. When their gazes met, she could see he was pleased with how she handled herself. She recognized that his happy expression was part of their act, but he’d looked at her exactly that way the night they’d gone clubbing. The night they’d created their baby.

Her heart kicked against her ribs. A flash of memories flooded her brain. Kissing in the limo. Laughing at stupid things. Not a care in the world. And for one foolish second, she wished they could be those two people again. Two people just having fun. Not making a commitment—

She quickly looked away. Things like that, staring into his fathomless eyes, longing for a chance just to enjoy each other, would get her into trouble.

She faced the reporters. “So I won’t faint again.” She winced. “That is if I listen to Dom and actually eat breakfast and lunch.”

A quiet chuckle went up from the group as they scribbled in notebooks.

The questions started again.

“What about your job?”

“Will you miss working?”

“What was it like growing up with an alcoholic dad?”

“Did you spin daydreams as a little girl that you’d someday marry a prince?”

The room suddenly got hot. She hadn’t expected her dad’s life to escape scrutiny. She simply hadn’t expected it to come up so soon.

She pushed her hair off her face, buying time, hoping to cool her forehead a bit before sweat began to bead on it. “I love my job.” She answered the first and second questions together since they were easy, as she dreadfully scrambled in her head to think of how to answer the third. “If it were possible to be a princess
and
be a guidance counselor, I’d do both. As it is, my duty lies with Xaviera and our baby.” She laughed. “My mom reminded me that even if my baby wasn’t a future king, he’d still take up all my time and shift my priorities.”

Before she could deal with question three, two other reporters raised their hands and called out, “So you’ve spoken to your mom and have her blessing?” and “Where is your mom?”

“My mom is finishing out her semester,” she said, then suddenly wished her mom didn’t have to work. Being alone in a strange country, in a white-hot spotlight with a guy she’d liked a lot was making her crazy. She had to remember he wasn’t fun-loving Dom. He was Prince Dominic. And this marriage wasn’t real. Hell, this whole situation was barely real.

“She has a few more weeks of school, but she’ll be here for the wedding.”

“I’m still waiting for an answer about your childhood with an alcoholic father.”

The sweat arrived, beading on her forehead. A hot, dizzying wave passed through her, weakening her knees, just as it had two seconds before she’d fainted the day before.

“My father was sick,” she said quietly, praying her legs would continue to hold her. “He also died when I was eighteen. I barely remember that part of my life.” That wasn’t really a lie, more of an exaggeration. She didn’t want to remember, so she spent her days refusing to even think about those years.

“As for whether or not I spun fantasies about marrying a prince.” She smiled. “I hadn’t. I was a very pragmatic child, enamored with my mom’s love of her classes and students. But I’m glad I met Dominic.”

Again, not a lie. She
was
glad she had met him. She’d loved their night out. It was being in cahoots with him, putting so much of her life into another person’s hands, that caused fear to course through her. Especially after the mention of her dad. After being reminded that trusting the wrong person could suck the life out of your soul, reduce you to someone who suspiciously weighed every word and soon didn’t trust anyone. Someone who protected herself by staying in her room, alone and lonely.

She did not want that to be her life again.

This time when she turned to smile at Dominic, she knew her eyes were dull and listless.

She wasn’t surprised when he said, “And that’s all for this morning. Our press office has issued a release with all relevant information.”

He led her off the podium and then out of the room, behind the king, who turned to her with a satisfied look. “You lasted much longer than I predicted.”

She winced. “Thank you, I think.”

“Well, it’s a compliment to an extent. I’m still not sure I trust your fashion sense. And I’m not at all pleased that you didn’t warn us about your dad.”

Her stomach churned. She’d buried her dad seven years ago, but here she was hiding him again, protecting him again— “I...”

Dominic stepped up. “I knew about her dad. My security detail investigated everything.” He caught Ginny’s gaze. “I admit we glossed over his alcoholism because he’s been dead for seven years. But no one kept it a secret.”

She swallowed. Every time she looked in his eyes, she had no question about why he’d so easily been able to seduce her. But every time he talked he reminded her that she didn’t belong here in his life, and how difficult the next years would be. “I guess you did that while we were waiting for the paternity results.”

“Actually, we investigated you when we were told you would be my liaison at the school.” He faced the king. “And you have a full report on Ginny’s life in your office. Her father is in there.”

King Ronaldo said, “I don’t know how I missed it.”

“You missed it because he’s barely a footnote. He was never arrested. Never in the papers. Never anything. And now he’s gone. Ginny and I talked about this a bit yesterday and the end result was I decided there’s no real reason to put her through the memories by insisting she give us details.”

He smiled slightly at her.

She tried to smile back. But an odd feeling tumbled through her. Not quite a nudge that she should trust him, the feeling told her at the very least she should appreciate the way he’d saved her from having to relive a part of her life that was gone. Past. She shouldn’t have to explain it.

Sally said, “Yes, well, Prince Dominic, you should have bought this to your father’s attention instead of expecting him to find it in a report.”