Pregnant with a Royal Baby!(23)

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

THEY 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."