“All right.” He walked to the sofa across from the one on which she sat and set his Scotch on the glass table between them. “Maybe the better way to put it is that they are requesting that we marry.”
“So I have a choice?”
“Not really. You are pregnant with the heir to Xaviera’s throne. If you decide not to marry me, your child will be taken from you.”
She gasped. “What?”
“He or she is the heir to our throne. There isn’t a country in the world who’d dare supersede our laws with their own when it comes to royalty, especially royalty in line to rule the country.”
She bounced from her seat. “That’s not fair!”
He sat back, watching her long legs as she paced. Though she wore jeans and a snug sweater, he pictured those legs beneath the shiny red dress. “Try suing. Waste time. Ruin the chance for us to have a royal wedding. Ruin the chance for the gossip to die down and our child to be brought into the world with a celebration instead of whispers.”
She stopped pacing and caught his gaze, obviously thinking through what he’d said.
He took advantage of her weak moment. “You won’t win and you’ll bring our child into a world of chaos for nothing because I have a plan.”
* * *
“A plan?”
Ginny stared at the gorgeous man on the sofa. With eyes so dark they almost looked black and onyx hair, he was every inch a prince. A royal. A future ruler who lived a life of privilege. A man just a little bit above everybody else.
As they talked about a situation that would totally change her life, he very calmly sipped Scotch.
“My father wants the next king to be born in wedlock.” He held her gaze. “Our subjects will, too. But that doesn’t mean we have to stay married.”
Relieved, she sat on the sofa across from him again. “It doesn’t?”
“No. But it does mean we have to play a part for a while.” He glanced at his Scotch then back up at her. “Over the next couple of days, as the protocol office begins planning our wedding, we’ll be seen together in public.”
Her heart thumped when he said wedding. She would be married to a guy who would someday be a king. Did that mean sleeping with him? They might be at odds now, but the night they’d gone out, they’d had a really good time. She had no idea how that factored into his plan, so she kept her face calm, simply kept her gaze locked with his, hoping to appear cooler than she was.
“Next week we’ll announce our engagement, quick wedding and pregnancy all at once.”
That didn’t sound fun. “Oh, boy.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve thought this through. The people of Xaviera will be thrilled to see me getting married. But the only thing they love better than a royal wedding is a royal pregnancy. If we play this right, the next few months could be a wonderful time for the people of my kingdom.”
“Okay.” Her nerves popped and jumped, but she resisted the urge to bounce off the sofa and pace again. If he could be calm, she could be calm. And really what he said made sense. They were doing this for his people and their child, a future king, who deserved to be born amid celebration.
“So we’d get married next month and after that we’d spend the rest of your pregnancy making appearances as the happy couple expecting the next heir to the throne, then the baby will be born to a country excited and happy about his birth.”
She could picture it. She’d seen enough of Britain’s royal family’s weddings, as well as their pregnancies, to have a pretty good idea of what she was in for. Except Xaviera was a small country, much smaller than Britain, so she could probably cut the exposure in the press and even in Xaviera itself in about half. Which wouldn’t be too bad.
“After that we should stay married until the baby’s about two. At age two, there’s a ceremony that would induct him or her into the line of reigning Sanchos. We can be cool to each other at that ceremony, and then we can divorce without causing too much of a stir because after that nothing press worthy happens in his life until he turns twelve.” He sat back. “If people want to say we married hastily, or even if they say we only married for the baby, we agree. But waiting until he or she is two shows we gave the marriage a good shot. Because we’ll be fair and calm about it, everyone will support us.”
“And what about the baby?”
“What about the baby?”
“Who keeps him? What kind of custody arrangements are we talking about here?”
“There are a few scenarios. I was hoping you’d let the years we’re married go by without making any final decisions, but if you choose to take our child back to America, a contingent of bodyguards will be sent with you. Xaviera will purchase a home with suitable security.”
“What about my job?”
“Your job will be mother to Xaviera’s heir. At least until he or she is twelve.”
“Twelve?”
“Up until twelve he can be homeschooled. After that there are mandatory boarding schools. He or she has to have a certain kind of education.”
“No public school, huh?”
“Mock if you want, but that is the situation.” He rose from the sofa. “Once he goes to boarding school, your life is your own again. Except you will be expected to attend all of his public functions.”
She could see it. She could picture herself as the future king’s mom, wiping grape jelly from her little boy’s chin in private, and way, way out of the view of cameras when he was in public. Knowing that she’d easily slip out of the limelight settled some of her nerves. Still, there was more to it than grape jelly and hiding from cameras.
“I’ll give you a week to think about it.”
“A week?”
“The week you’re at the palace. The time we’re getting out. Being seen in public. Having a date or two.”
Their eyes met. Their last date had been fantastic. But it was also what had gotten them into this mess.
“I think I still have some more questions.”
“About the dates?”
She nodded.
“Like, will we kiss?”
A starburst of tingles exploded in her stomach. She nodded again.
“Yes. We have to pretend we adore each other. That we met and swept each other off our respective feet.” He held her gaze. “Which we sort of did.”
Memories of holding hands, intimate touches and those unbelievable kisses rippled through her, tightening her chest, sending her pulse into overdrive.
“But sex is off the table.” He smiled. “Unless you’re interested.”
Her heart thumped. She tried to imagine herself resisting that smile, that charm—
Actually, he hadn’t been all that charming in this chat, except when it suited him. That was the curse of getting involved with someone she didn’t know. She’d met and made love with Prince Charming. She had no idea who the real Prince Dominic was. What if he was like her dad? Only pulling out the charm to get what he wanted?
Oh. No brainer. She could resist that like sour wine at a bad dance club.
“Ginny, this relationship can go any way you want.” And the stoic, respectable prince was back. “Behind the walls of this palace we can be as distant or as intimate as you wish. But make no mistake. If you marry me, it’s temporary. Don’t get stars in your eyes. Don’t get any big ideas. This marriage will not become permanent. I had been promised to a princess as part of a treaty and that was what I wanted. A marriage that meant something, accomplished something. A real marriage doesn’t work in my world. So this little arrangement will not turn permanent. You need to know that, too, before you decide.”
CHAPTER TWO
“SO IT WILL be totally a marriage of convenience?”
Ginny lay on the bed in the suite across the great room in Dominic’s palace apartment. Cool silk caressed her back. Fluffy pillows supported her. Rich aqua walls brought color and life to the cavernous space.
“That’s it. Nothing but a marriage of convenience to bring the heir to Xaviera’s th
rone into the world legitimately.”
“Oh, sweetie, that’s weird.”
“I know, Mom. But you have to remember the child we created will be in the public eye his entire life. How selfish would it be for me to refuse to marry Dominic, and have the heir to Xavier’s throne born in a way that causes whispers and gossip that follow him forever?”
“True.”
“Besides, this might just be the best thing for me, too. I mean, seriously, I don’t know Dominic. What he said today about not wanting to be married proves it. He was such a sweetheart when he came to the school that day that I thought he really was a Prince Charming.”
“They’re all Prince Charming on dates, Ginny. It’s real life that brings out their bad side.”
Ginny winced. Though Dominic and her alcoholic dad seemed to share the charm gene, her dad had been mean and emotionally abusive. Dominic just seemed formal. It wasn’t fair to compare the two—even if she would be wise about the charm part.
“He’s not a bad guy, Mom. He’s just not the happy-go-lucky guy he was on our date. And, you know what? I’m probably not the starry-eyed, flirty girl I was that night, either. We were both just having fun. But this pregnancy is real. And that’s why he’s serious.”
“Okay. You’re right.”
“I know I’m right, but I still don’t know what to do.”
“It sounds like you think you should marry him. What are you giving up? A year, a year and a half of your life?”
“About two and a half years, and my career. Apparently, my job for the next twelve years is to be the heir’s mom.”
Ginny’s mom laughed. “Even if your child wasn’t a prince or princess, your priorities would switch from your job to this baby.” She sucked in a breath. “You know what? This isn’t all that much different from having the baby of a commoner.”
“Except for dealing with the press.”
“Yeah, well, the press is different.”
“And boarding school.”
“There is that.”
“And living in a palace.”
“Right, palace.” Her mother sighed. “But the situation is done, Ginny.”
“I suppose.”
“So what concerns you?”
“Well, I have to see if I can handle it. Dominic’s given me a week to make up my mind. He said we’d go out in public a few times.” She groaned. “Oh, damn.”
“What?”
“I brought jeans and T-shirts. One sundress.” She dropped her head to her hands. “I’m going to go out with a prince, in public, in my junky clothes?”
“Your wardrobe is fine. You’ll be fine.”
“Right.” She hadn’t even told her mom about kissing Dom, possibly sleeping with Dom. All she’d mentioned was not knowing Dominic and changing her life to suit a baby, and just that had scared her silly.
This was a mess.
Two quick knocks at her door brought her head off the pillow. “Yes?”
“It’s me. Dominic. My father requests our presence at dinner tonight.”
Ginny turned toward the wall and whispered, “Gotta go, Mom,” into the phone before she rolled off the bed and said, “Sure. That’s fine. What time?”
“Seven.” He cleared his throat. “It’s semiformal.”
She gaped at the door, as discomfort swamped her. Not only did she not have a semiformal dress for dinner, but her suite had a private sitting room outside her bedroom. He had to be in that room to be knocking on her bedroom door. He might have knocked on the door to her suite before inviting himself in, but she wouldn’t have heard him. The darned place was so big and had such high ceilings that sound either echoed or disappeared. He wasn’t infringing on her privacy. She hoped.
“Semiformal?”
“I took the liberty of having the staff get some suitable clothes for you.”
Pride almost caused her to say, “I’m fine.” But when she looked down at her jeans and considered the contents of her suitcase, she knew this was the first step in many toward giving up her real life.
“You’re right. I have nothing acceptable to meet a king.” She walked to the door, opened it and watched as four men brought in bags and boxes and armloads of dresses, including gowns.
“Oh, my God.”
Dominic walked in behind the parade of men. “Even if you decide not to marry me, you’re here for a week.”
Her mouth fell open at the ease with which he spoke in front of staff, but the expression of not a single man even twitched. This was one well-trained staff.
She took a quick breath. “So I need to be semiformal.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Okay. Scram. I have some work to do to be presentable.”
“I can have a hairdresser sent up. Manicurist. Masseuse.”
“Why would I need a massage?”
“Maybe what I should get you is a rundown on my dad. Then you’d very clearly understand why you want to be Zen and you’d get the massage.”
“Great.”
She took advantage of the hairdresser and manicurist, and ten minutes before it was time to leave for dinner she wished she’d agreed to the masseuse.
Dressed in a lightweight blue dress that stopped midcalf, with her hair in an updo suitable for a woman of seventy and old-fashioned pumps dyed to match the dress, she stepped out of her bedroom.
Standing in the great room, Dominic smiled. Unlike her ugly blue dress, his tux appeared to have been made for him. Again he was every inch a prince. Handsome. Debonair. Regal.
While she looked like a frumpy old bat.
“You look lovely.”
“I look like the Queen of England. Get me a hat and one of those sedate purses she carries all the time and people would probably get us confused.”
He laughed. “You are meeting a king.”
“Who wants to be reminded of his grandmother?”
“You do not look like a grandmother.”
“Well, I sure as hell don’t look like a twenty-five-year-old guidance counselor in the coolest school in Texas.”
“Trust me. You will want the armor of a grandma dress when you meet my dad.” He took her elbow and led her to the door, out of the apartment and through the echoing lobby to the waiting elevator.
As they stepped inside and the door closed behind them, she said, “You have some impressive art.”
“We are royalty.”
“I guess I’d better get used to that.” That and ugly clothes.
“That’s why we’re giving you the week. To get accustomed to us.”
She released her breath in a slow sigh. She knew that, of course. She also suspected the clothes weren’t ugly as much as they were dignified.
“Who picked out these clothes anyway?”
He stared straight ahead at the closed elevator door. “I did.”
She pulled the skirt of the too-big dress away from her hips. “Because you think your dad will like me better in baggy clothes?”
“I was a bit off on your size. But it’s better to be too big than too small.”
“Couldn’t you at least have gotten something red?”
“Blue matches your eyes.”
The sweetness of that caught her off guard. For a second she’d forgotten he knew the color of her eyes. But thinking about it, she remembered that gazing into her eyes, making her feel special, had been his seduction superpower.
“Besides, red would have reminded me of that night.”
Her lips lifted into a smile. “Oh?”
“You were devastatingly beautiful.”
Her heart skipped a beat. He’d made her feel beautiful. “If you hadn’t been staring straight ahead when you said that, it would have been romantic.”
“We don’t want to be romantic, remember?”
“So that means you’re not going to look at me?”
“I’m not going to make eye contact. I’m pretty sure that’s what got us into trouble on our date.”
She laughed, but happine
ss bubbled inside her. He liked her. A prince liked her. At the very least, he liked her looks.
It was heady stuff.
The elevator bell rang. The doors opened. Dominic led her out. “The family dining room is this way.”
They walked across a short hall to open doors that ushered them into a formal dining room. A table that could have seated forty dominated the space. Four places were set near the head. An older man dressed in a royal uniform and a younger man in a tux like Dominic’s rose as they entered.
“Virginia Jones, this is King Ronaldo Sancho and my brother, Prince Alexandros. We call him Alex.”
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.
Harlequin Romance February 2016 Box Set Page 20
