Pregnant with a Royal Baby!(22)

When he got to the last buttons, the three just above her butt, his  hands slowed. When the last button popped, she almost turned around, but  something told her to be still. His fingers trailed up her spine until  he reached the place where he could lay his hands on the sides of her  waist. He grazed them along the indent to her hips, then back up again.  When they reached her rib cage, they kept going, under her dress to her  naked breasts.

Her breath caught. She wanted to tell him she was his. That she'd been  his from the moment she laid eyes on him. But she knew this wasn't as  easy a decision for him as it was for her.

"You are temptation."

She turned, letting the top of her dress fall as she did so. "I don't intend to be."

"Liar."

She shrugged. "Maybe a little." She raised her gaze to his. "But would it be so, so terrible to pretend you like me?"

He shook his head, as he lowered it to kiss her. Their mouths met  tentatively, then she rose to her tiptoes and pressed her lips against  his strongly, surely.                       
       
           



       

She might not get forever. But she wanted this two years enough that she was willing to reach out and take it.

He cupped his hand on the back of her head and dipped her down far  enough that her dress slithered around her hips. When he brought her  back up again, the dress fell to the floor.

"No panties, either?"

She stood before him totally naked. No lies. No pretense. When she whispered, "It was actually a very heavy dress." He laughed.

Another woman might have worried, but Ginny smiled. Part of what he  liked about her was her ability to make him laugh. She wasn't surprised  when he slid his arms around her back and knees, and carried her to the  bed.





CHAPTER NINE

GINNY AWAKENED THE next morning with Dom's arms wrapped around her  waist. She squeezed her eyes shut, enjoying the sensation, then told  herself she had to get her priorities in line before he woke up.

They hadn't talked the night before. They'd had an amazing time, but  they hadn't spoken one word. She hadn't been expecting words of love,  but she knew making this marriage real hadn't been what he wanted.  Though she hadn't actually seduced him, which had been her plan, he  could still be upset that he hadn't been able to resist the temptation  of their chemistry.

She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her. "Hey."

"Hey." He searched her eyes. "I hope you know what you're doing."

And pragmatic Dom was back.

So she smiled at him and stretched up to give him a kiss. "I do."

"I'm serious about not wanting this to last and about us not getting emotionally involved with each other."

"I hate to tell you, but I'm pretty sure raising a child together will more than get us emotionally involved."

"I'm not talking about being friendly. I'm talking about being ridiculously dependent."

Even as he spoke, he rose from the bed. With the fluidity and ease of a  man comfortable with who he was, he stretched and reached for a robe.

She sat up, almost sorry he was covering all those wonderful muscles when he secured the belt around his waist.

He picked up the phone and, without dialing, said, "Bacon, eggs, bagels, croissants, and the usual fruit and juices."

He hung up the phone and walked into the bathroom.

Ginny stared after him. The man really was accustomed to getting  everything he wanted. But constantly seeing the evidence of it was a  good reminder that he wasn't going to be persuaded to do anything, be  anything, other than what he wanted.

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?"