Pregnant with a Royal Baby!(28)

"Dominic?"

Dom glanced up to see his boarding school friend, Pietro Fonichelli. The  son of an Italian billionaire and a billionaire several times over in  his own right, thanks to his computer software skills, Pietro was  probably better known around the globe than Dominic was. He was also on  Dominic's list of friends, the people his bodyguards were told to allow  access to him.

Dominic rose. "What are you doing here?"

As he said the words, Dom noticed Pietro wore shorts and a big T-shirt.

"Vacationing." He faced Ginny. "And this is your lovely bride."

It was the first time Dominic was uncomfortable with the ruse. Engaging  in a charade to help his subjects enjoy the birth of the country's next  heir? That was a good thing. Fooling someone he considered a friend? It  didn't sit well. Pietro had been at the wedding, but there had been so  many people that at the time it hadn't registered that he was tricking a  friend.

He politely said, "Yes, this is Ginny Jones."

Pietro laughed. "Ginny Jones? Is she so American that she didn't take your last name?"

Ginny rose, extending her hand to Pietro. "No. Dom sometimes forgets we're married."

Laughing, Pietro took the hand she extended. Instead of shaking it, he kissed the knuckles.

Something hot and fuzzy whipped through Dom. The custom in Xaviera was  that a man had a choice. A handshake or a kiss. He should not be upset  that his friend chose a kiss. It was nothing more than a sign of  affection for the wife of a friend.

Holding Dom's wife's gaze, Pietro said, "I'm not entirely sure how a man forgets he's married to such a beautiful woman."

Ginny smiled as if she thought Pietro's words were baloney, but Dom had  never seen his friend so smitten before. Just as Dom had been  tongue-tied and eager the day he'd met Ginny, Pietro all but drooled.

Ginny said, "Dom's a great husband."

"Yeah, well, if he ever isn't-" he let go of Ginny's hand and pulled out a business card "-this card has my direct line on it."

Ginny laughed, but Dom said, "What? Are you flirting with my wife?"

"Teasing," Pietro said. He pulled Dom into a bear hug, released him and  said, "It was great to run into you." He glanced at Ginny, then back at  Dom. "We should do dinner sometime."

The air came back to Dom's lungs and he felt incredibly stupid. He knew  Pietro was a jokester. He knew his friend loved getting a rise out of  Dom. It was part of what made them click. They could joke. Tease. "Yes.  We should."

With his coffee gone and Ginny's cookie demolished, they walked back to  the limo, one bodyguard conspicuously holding a box of a half-dozen  brightly painted sugar cookies.

He helped Ginny into the limo, then sat beside her, realizing Pietro was  the kind of man who wouldn't care if her ex was a king. He would pursue  Ginny. With the money to buy and sell loyalty, her connection to a king  would mean nothing to him. Once Ginny was free of Dom, it wouldn't even  cross Pietro's mind to care that she'd been his wife. He'd pursue her.

His nerves endings stood on edge like the fur of a hissing cat. Not out  of jealousy, he told himself. Out of fear for her. Pietro might be a  great friend, but he wouldn't be a good husband. Like Dom, he took what  he wanted. Discarded it when he was done.

His nerves popped, and he suddenly knew another consequence of this fake  relationship. In two years, he was going to have to watch his wife with  another man.

* * *

That night in bed, the tension that vibrated from Dom rolled through  Ginny. She considered shifting away, going to her own side of the bed,  but she couldn't. Her baby would be born in thirty-two days, give or  take a week for the unpredictability of first babies, and in two short  years she would be gone. She wouldn't give up one second of her time  with him. Even if it meant she wouldn't sleep tonight because the  muscles of Dom's arm beneath her head had stiffened to concrete.                       
       
           



       

Finally, unable to take the tension anymore, she said, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Right." Knowing they weren't going to get any sleep anyway, she ran her  fingers along the thick dark hair on his chest and said, "So I'll bet  it was nice seeing your friend today."

He laughed. "Yeah. Nice."

"You know he was only teasing."

"Yes. He's a jokester and if he'd do something stupid at a bar, the press would love it and it could take the heat off of us."

"I don't mind the heat."

He didn't say anything for a second, then his arm tightened around her shoulders. "I know you don't."

"So we don't need for your friend to get punched out at a bar."

"Especially since I would like to have dinner with him. Actually, he's  somebody I'd like to have in the baby's life. He started off wealthy,  could have bummed around the world forever on his dad's money, but he  knew the importance of being strong, being smart. I might just make him  the baby's godfather so he's here for more than the big events."

She nodded but tears came to her eyes as an awful scenario ran through  her brain. In two years, she and Dom would be divorced, but Dom and the  baby's lives would go on-without her. She would come and go for those  big events in the baby's life. She'd even be a part of things, but not  really. After her two years were up, she'd be an outsider looking in.

"Are you crying?"

Dom's soft voice trickled down to her.

She swallowed. "It's just a pregnancy thing."

He sat up slightly and shifted her to her pillow so he could look down at her. "Is there anything I can do?"

You could love me, she thought and wished with all her heart she could  say the words. But she'd seduced this guy twice. She'd agreed to his  plan to have their child born amid celebration. She was good to his  family, good to his employees, good to the press and his subjects. She  didn't spend a lot of money, but she did spend enough that she looked  like the princess he wanted her to be.

And what did she get for her troubles? The knowledge that in two years she'd be nothing to him.

She sniffed.

Dominic's eyes widened with horror. "Please. Silent tears are one thing. Actually crying will make us both nuts."

"Really? I'm fat. I'm hungry. I'm always hungry. I'm always on. I've  been good to you, good to your family, good to your subjects and you  can't love me."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "It isn't that I can't love you."

"Oh, it's just that you don't want to love me. That makes it so much better."

He popped his eyes open. "It isn't that, either."

"Then explain this to me because I'm tired but can't sleep. And I'm  hungry even though I eat all the time. And I just feel so freaking  alone."

"We could call your friends."

"I want my husband."

"The Affectionate Prince."

"I don't give a flying fig what the press calls you. This is our baby. Half yours. You should be here when I need you."

"I am here when you need me."

"Yeah. Right. You're here physically, but emotionally you're a million miles away."

"I rule a country."

She shook her head. "Your dad rules the country. You work for him. Technically you're just the minister of finance."

"I need to be prepared for when I take over."

"Really? Your dad is around fifty-five. He's nowhere near retirement  age. You and I could have three kids and a great life before your dad  retires."

He laughed. "Seriously?" But she could tell from his tone of voice that the thought wasn't an unpleasant one.

She sat up. Holding his gaze, she said, "Would it be so wrong to ease off for the next ten years?"

He shook his head with a laugh. "First you wanted two years...now you want ten?"

"Yes." A sense of destiny filled her. The this-is-your-moment tug on her  heart. There was something different in his voice. He wasn't hard,  inflexible, as he usually was. In some ways, his eyes looked as tired as  hers.

Could he be tired of fighting?

"I'm asking for ten years, Your Majesty, if your dad retires at sixty-five."

Dom frowned.

She plowed on, so determined that her heart beat like a hummingbird's  wings. "What if he works until he's seventy? What if he's like Queen  Elizabeth, keeping the throne until he's ninety? We could have a long,  happy life."                       
       
           



       

Dom shook his head. "My dad won't rule until he's ninety." He caught her gaze. "But he could-will-rule another ten years."

"Doesn't ten years even tempt you?"

"You tempt me."

"So keep me. See if we can't figure this whole thing out together? See  if we can't learn to have a family-be a family-in ten years."