Ginny froze. What was she supposed to do? Curtsy? Bow? Damn it. Why hadn't she paid attention to etiquette-
What etiquette? Guidance counselors knew the basics but nothing else. And she certainly hadn't expected to someday meet a prince, let alone a king. She hadn't attended etiquette classes. Was there even such a thing anymore? She couldn't be mad at herself for not knowing something she'd never been exposed to.
"You hold out your hand," King Ronaldo said irritably. "And it's my choice to kiss it or shake it."
"Oh." She held out her hand. The king shook it.
Great. She'd already blown her first introduction.
Dom turned her in the direction of his brother. As tall as Dominic and every bit as good-looking-though his face had a roundness to it that made him appear kinder, with eyes that sparkled-Alex smiled warmly at her.
"It's a pleasure to meet the woman who snagged my brother."
King Ronaldo growled. "We do not speak that way in this house."
"Really, Father," Alex said, as he took his seat and opened his napkin. "This house is the only place we can speak like that." He smiled at Ginny as Dominic seated her. "It's a pleasure to have you in the family, Ginny, even if my brother does intend to dress you like a grandmother."
With a gasp, she faced Dom. "I told you!"
He almost smiled, but his father let out one of those low growls of disapproval again, and Dominic's face shifted, returning to his formal expression.
As a servant brought in salads, King Ronaldo said, "So, Miss Jones, tell us about yourself."
She swallowed. "Well, you know I'm a guidance counselor at a high school."
"Which is where you met Dominic."
She nodded. "My mother was a teacher. I loved the relationships she had with her students."
Alex said, "So why not teach?"
"I wanted a chance to meet all the kids, know all the kids, not just the ones I was teaching."
The king said, "Ump," but his tone of voice was positive.
She relaxed a bit. But when she glanced at the row of silverware, sweat beaded on her forehead. Seven forks. Just what in the name of all that was holy were they about to eat?
Remembering the rhyme she'd been taught in grade school, she started with the outside fork.
"What else should we know?"
"Actually, Your Majesty, since you've already decided the answer to our problem is to marry, and I'm the one who hasn't made up her mind, I think I should be the one asking questions."
Alex burst out laughing. "I like her."
The king growled again.
Dominic shot her a look of reprimand.
So she smiled and rephrased the question. "It's an honor to have been asked to join your family. But in America we have a saying about not buying a car unless you kick the tires."
Alex laughed again. "Now we're tires."
Not sure if she liked Dominic's brother or not, Ginny shrugged and said, "Or you're the used car. Be glad I didn't use the don't-buy-a-horse-without-checking-its-teeth analogy."
Alex laughed. Dominic groaned. But the king quietly said, "Fair enough. What would you like to know?"
"I don't really have to dress like this for the entire time Dominic and I stay married, do I?"
"You need to look respectable." King Ronaldo inspected her blue dress and grimaced. Even he thought it was ugly. "If we let you choose your own wardrobe, can you do that?"
"Of course, I can do that!"
"You also need to behave with the utmost of decorum in public."
"I can do that, too. Though I might need some help with protocols." She answered honestly, but she hadn't missed the way the king had turned the tables on her again, and she retook control of the conversation. "So what was Dominic like as a child?"
The king said, "Headstrong."
Alex said, "A bully."
Dominic said, "All older brothers bully their baby brothers. It's like a rule."
And for the first time, Ginny felt as if she was actually talking to people. A family.
Alex shook his head. "Do you know he agreed to marry the princess of Grennady when he was only twelve?"
She faced Dom. "Really?"
Their eyes met and memories of holding him close, whispering in his ear, being held and touched and loved by him rolled through her, and she understood why Dominic had been avoiding eye contact in the elevator. Looking into someone's eyes was intimate. In those few seconds, he wasn't just a name or a problem or a memory, he was a real person. The guy she'd made love with. Father of her child.
"My mother had just died. Our kingdom was in a state of mourning from which we couldn't seem to emerge. It was appropriate to do something that didn't just ensure peace-it also brought up morale."
She continued to hold his gaze as he spoke, and something warm and soft floated through her. At twelve, he had been mature enough to do his duty. Hell, he was mature enough to know his duty. It was remarkable, amazing.
Alex sighed. "Now I'm stuck marrying her."
She faced Dom's younger brother with a wince. "Really? You have to marry the princess Dom was supposed to marry?"
The king said, "You can't just back out of a twenty-year-old treaty. We promised a marriage. We will deliver a marriage."
Alex batted a hand. "Doesn't matter. The princess and I will have a marriage of convenience." He shrugged. "I'll run around on her. She'll run around on me. Nobody will really know who our babies belong to and we won't allow blood tests. It'll be fine."
The king scowled. "Once again, Alex, I won't have you talk like that at the table."
Silence fell over the foursome. Dominic didn't defend his younger brother, who seemed oddly cowed by the reprimand. Hoping to restart the conversation and shift everybody's attention, Ginny tried to think of a question to ask, but couldn't come up with one to save her soul. She wanted to. She wanted to lift the gloom of talking about a dead queen, mourning subjects and a younger brother resigned to a loveless marriage-his life made tolerable by affairs. But nothing came to mind, except an empty, hollow feeling that this was the family she was marrying into.
But even as she thought that, she realized there was a human side to this story. A man had lost his wife and raised two boys alone. One son had become a slave to duty. The other rebellious.
Was the pain of losing a wife and mom any less because they were royal?
In some ways she thought it might have been worse.
Dominic started a conversation about the country's budget and a quiet discussion ensued. When the dinner was over, the king took her hand, bent and kissed it. An apology, she supposed, for the long, difficult dinner. Or maybe an acknowledgment that the next few years of her life would be like this, if she chose to marry Dominic.
They walked back to Dominic's apartment in silence, her blue dress swishing against her calves, mocking her, reminding her just how out of her element she was and just how much she wished she were back at her condo, sitting by the pool, sipping something fruity.
When they entered Dom's apartment, he said, "We'll meet the minister of protocol tomorrow morning."
"Okay." She headed for the double doors of her bedroom suite. "Great."
"Don't let my family scare you."
She stopped, turned to face him. "I'm not afraid of you." She almost said, "I feel sorry for you." For as difficult as the beginning of her life had been, she'd redeemed it. She'd built a world of friends and meaning. Dominic, his brother and the grouchy king were stuck.
But the strange look in his eyes kept her from saying that. He didn't seem embarrassed by his family as much as he appeared interested in what she thought of them. He wanted her to like them. Or approve of them. Or maybe just accept them.
She walked over to him, her ugly dyed blue pumps clicking on the marble floor, echoing in the silence. "I'm very accustomed to dealing with ornery dads. I was fine. Your father and brother might be a little grouchy or stern or even too flip, but I'd have paid to have family like them."
He sniffed a laugh. "Right."
"I'm serious." She smiled slightly. "Your brother needs a week of time-out in his room to get his act together, or maybe a good friend to talk through his life. Your dad lost his wife and lived his grief in the public eye. And you just want to live up to what your dad wants. You're actually a very normal family." Something she'd longed for her entire life. Something that could suck her in if she wasn't careful. "Good night."
* * *
As she turned to walk back to her bedroom suite, Dominic whispered, "Good night," confused by what she'd said. From what his investigators had dug up, her father was dead. Her mother adored her and she had a billion friends.