He lowered his head slowly, giving her time, it seemed, to pull away if she wanted. But, mesmerized by the desperation in his black eyes, she stood perfectly still, barely breathing. He wanted this, too, and even though she knew he was going to kiss her, she also knew he fought a demon. He might want to be king, but he also wanted to be a man.
When his lips touched hers, she didn’t think of that night two months ago, she thought of this moment, of how he needed her, even if he didn’t see it.
She slid her arms around his neck as he released her braid, letting it swing across her back. With his hand now free, he brought her closer still. The press of her breasts to his chest knocked the air out of her lungs as his lips moved across hers roughly.
He was angry, she knew, because she was upsetting his well-laid plans. The irony of it was he’d been upsetting her plans, her life, from the second she’d met him. It only seemed fitting that finally she was doing the same to him.
Standing on tiptoe, she returned his kiss, as sure as he was. If he wanted to talk about unfair, she would show him unfair. The only way she could be intimate with someone was knowing she had an out. The inability to trust that her dad had instilled in her had crippled her for anything but a relationship that couldn’t last. She wouldn’t share the joy of raising children. She was lucky to get a child. She wouldn’t grow old with someone. The best she would get would be memories of whatever love, intimacy, happiness they could cobble together in the next two years. And even as it gave her at least slight hope, it also angered her mightily.
They dueled for a few seconds, each fighting for supremacy, until suddenly his mouth softened over hers. His hands slid down her back to her bottom, while his mouth lured her away from her anger and to that place where the softness of their kisses spoke of their real feelings.
Like it or not, they were falling in love.
And it wasn’t going to last.
But it was all Ginny Jones, high school guidance counselor from Texas with the alcoholic dad, was going to get in her lifetime.
So she wanted it. She wanted the intimacy, the friendship, the secrets and dreams.
The only problem was she had no idea how to go about getting any of it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IT TOOK EVERY ounce of concentration Dom could muster to pull away from Ginny. He’d never before felt the things he felt with her, but that was the problem. He’d never experienced any of these things because he’d avoided them. Not because he’d never met anyone like Ginny, but because he’d always been strong.
So when he stepped away, it wasn’t with regret. It was with self-recrimination. He did not want what she seemed to be offering. And if they didn’t stop this idiotic game, just as he’d told her, he was going to hurt her.
“I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned and walked to his room, vowing to himself that something like that kiss would never happen again.
The next day, he left before breakfast and didn’t come back to his quarters until long past time for supper. That worked so well he decided to keep up that schedule.
At first, she’d waited for him on the sofa in the sitting room. So he’d stride into the room, barely glancing at her, and walk right past the bar, saying, “It was a long day. I’m going to shower and go right to bed.”
And pretty soon she stopped waiting up.
For two weeks, he managed to avoid her in their private times and keep his distance when they were in public, but he could see something going on in that crazy head of hers. Every time they got within two feet of each other, she’d smile so prettily she’d temporarily throw him off balance. But he’d always remind himself he was strong. And it worked, but he wasn’t superhuman. If something didn’t give, they’d end up talking again. Or kissing. Or just plain forming a team. And then she’d get all the wrong ideas.
A week before the wedding, her bridesmaids arrived and he breathed a sigh of relief. Jessica and Molly were two teachers from her school, both of whom had just finished their semester. Dom smiled politely when Ginny introduced them and he shook both of their hands, reminding them they had met when he visited their school.
Molly laughed. “Of course, we remember you. We didn’t think you’d remember us.”
He smiled briefly. “It’s my job to care for a country full of people. Remembering names, really seeing people when I look at them, is part of that.”
Jessica nodded sagely as if she totally understood and agreed, but his future bride tilted her head in a way that told him she was turning that over in her mind, putting that statement up against other things he’d said.
Good. He hoped she was. Because from here on out that was his main goal. If she wanted to be part of his life, and for the next two years or so she had to be, then she needed not just to hear that but to fully understand it. His country came first. She would be second. And then only for about two years. He did not intend to get personally involved with her. God knew he’d sleep with her in a New York minute if he could be sure nothing would come of it. But that ship had sailed. They were getting to know each other, getting to like each other. If they went any further, their breakup would be a disaster.
He turned and walked out of the apartment, on his way to his office, but Molly stopped him. “Aren’t you going to kiss your bride goodbye?”
Dom slid a questioning glance to Ginny. Her eyebrows raised and her mouth formed the cute little wince she always gave when she had no defense. Obviously, she hadn’t told her friends their marriage would be a fake. That was good news and bad news. The good news was if her friends believed this marriage would be real, there was no chance either of them would slip up and say the wrong thing. Unfortunately, that meant there was no rest from the charade for him and Ginny.
He walked over and put his hands on her shoulders. For two seconds, he debated kissing her cheek, but knew that would never work. So he pressed his lips to hers lightly and pulled back quickly, then he turned and walked out to the door.
“I’ll be busy all day. You ladies enjoy yourselves.”
Then he left. But the look on Ginny’s face when he’d pulled away from their kiss followed him out the door. She hadn’t minded the quick kiss. She was back to being on board with the charade. Back to fake kisses and no intimate conversations. They’d barely seen each other in two weeks. His doing. And she wasn’t pouting. She didn’t throw hissy fits the way he distantly remembered his mom doing to manipulate his dad.
He shook his head, wondering where that memory had come from. His mom hadn’t been a manipulator. His dad had been brutally in love with her. So in love that the king had been putty in her hands. And so in love that when she got sick and died, the king’s world had come to a crashing halt.
Not that he had to worry about that with Ginny. He was much stronger than his dad had been. He could always do what needed to be done. Always resist when he needed to.
With her guests in the palace and a charade to perpetuate, he phoned the kitchen staff and made arrangements for a formal dinner in their apartment, then had his assistant phone Ginny and tell her he was honoring her and her guests that evening with a formal dinner.
* * *
Hanging up the phone, Ginny pressed her hand to her stomach. After two weeks of him virtually ignoring her—except when they were in public—he was back to being nice again. She would have breathed a sigh of relief but Molly was two feet away and Jessica wasn’t that much farther, standing with the fiftysomething female dressmaker who was measuring her for her bridesmaid’s gown.
“So you chose a dress without even consulting us?” Molly groused good-naturedly.
“Yes.” Ginny winced. “Sorry, but fabric had to be ordered.”
Jessica said, “Oh! Special fabric!”
“It’s just a nice silk.”
“Listen to her,” Molly teased, nudging her shoulder. “A week away from the wedding and she’s already acting like a princess.”
“I am not!”
Jessica ste
pped away from the woman who had measured her for her dress. “It’s not a bad thing. I imagine that adjusting to being the most important woman in a country isn’t easy.”
“The most important woman in a country? Not hardly.”
Molly fell to a club chair. “Well, Dom’s mother is dead and he has no sisters. His dad doesn’t date and his brother is some kind of jet-setter. You are the only girl permanently in the mix.”
She hadn’t thought of that, but when she did, her stomach fluttered oddly. It meant something that they’d brought her into the family. True, she was pregnant with the heir to the throne, but there were so many ways they could have handled this other than marriage. On some level, she’d passed enough tests that they’d brought her in.
“If that makes you queasy,” Jessica said, “then you’d better toughen up.”
“I’m not queasy.”
Molly said, “Well, something’s up. You let Dom believe we don’t know about your situation. Almost as if you don’t trust what he’d say if he knew you’d confided in your friends.”
“That’s true, Gin,” Jessica agreed, slipping on her blue jeans and pretty peach T-shirt that showed off her Texas-girl tan. “If you don’t grow a pair with this guy pretty soon, he’s going to walk all over you.”
“What if I think I have a better way to handle the next two years?”
Jessica cautiously said, “Better?”
“Yeah.” She turned away, puttering around with picking up pins and tape measures, and putting them in the dressmaker’s tote.
Taking the cue that Ginny wanted her to leave, the dressmaker grabbed her tote and said, “Thanks. I’ll have dresses for you to try on tomorrow.”
When she closed the suite door behind her, Molly gasped. “Tomorrow?”
She shrugged. “That’s how it goes here in the palace.” She walked to the table by the window and busied herself with straightening stationery and pens. “I say I want something, somebody comes up and measures, and the next day it’s at my door.”
Shrewd, Jessica narrowed her eyes. “You never told us your better plan for how to handle your situation.”
Ginny looked up into the faces of her two trusted friends and decided it wasn’t out of line to want a second opinion. “Okay. Here’s the deal. You know how my dad sort of ruined my ability to trust?”
Molly nodded. Jessica crossed her arms on her chest.
“Well, I’ve been thinking that if Dom and I hadn’t accidentally gotten pregnant, I probably never would have trusted anyone enough to have had a child.”
Jessica said, “True. So I hope you’re not about to tell us you want to make your marriage real with Prince Gorgeous. The very fact that you can’t trust makes that just plain stupid.”
“Not really. Because I don’t want a permanent husband. But I do want this marriage.”
Molly tilted her head. “What does that mean?”
“Well, we’re stuck together for at least two years and he is gorgeous. Not only would I like the whole mother experience with my baby’s father, but I just don’t see why we can’t sleep together and maybe be a real husband and wife for a while.”
“How about because that’s not what he wants.”
“I’ll still divorce him two years after the baby’s born and gone through the initiation ceremony. That’s the deal. But it’s the very fact that I know we’re getting divorced that makes me comfortable enough to, you know—”
“Want to have sex?”
“It’s more than that. When he’s comfortable with me, we have fun. I think we could make very good parents. I think being a husband and wife for real for two years could pave the way for us to have a good relationship after we’re divorced and I think all that is nothing but good for our child.”
Molly mulled that over and suddenly said, “Actually, that makes sense.”
Jessica turned on her. “How can you say that? She’s going to get hurt.”
Molly shrugged. “Or not. The situation is weird, Jessica. And not everybody’s lucky enough to attract men like mosquitoes.”
Jessica nodded at Ginny. “She could if she wanted to.”
“That’s the point. She doesn’t want to. But she’s going to marry this guy and have his baby. Why shouldn’t she have two years of being a real princess before she has to let it all go?”
“That’s like saying you should eat a whole cake before you start a diet.”
Ginny laughed. “You mean, you don’t?”
Jessica groaned.
“Look, I am never, ever, ever going to be married. The mistrust my dad instilled in me will never go away. But I am getting married. To Dominic. For a bit over two years. Not forever. So it’ll be like playing house.”
Jessica sighed. “Playing house?”
“Yes. Just another facet of the charade. Because I know it’s fake, I’m not going to get hurt. But I also want to experience something I never would have if we hadn’t gotten pregnant and decided to marry for the baby.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Ginny sucked in a breath. “I think I do, but even if I don’t, it’s only two years. Once it’s over, it’s over. I will have no choice but to go back to normal. Especially with a baby to raise with him.” Satisfied with her conclusion, she changed the subject. “Did you bring something to wear tonight, or do I need to call the clothier?”
“Clothier?”
“He’s this guy, Joshua, who if you need something you call him, and he’ll call a store or designer and have it in the room within hours.”
Molly gaped at her. “So you can get us gowns for tonight?”
“If you need them. It’s all about not embarrassing Dominic in front of his father.”
Jessica shook her head. “I think you’re enjoying this too much.”
“Actually, this is the part I don’t enjoy. The part I won’t miss at all. There are lots of things about being a princess like the press and having a father-in-law who can have you deported that make this life hard. Not something I’d want to do forever.”
Jessica drew a deep breath. “Okay. Now I think I get it. You know you don’t want to be in this life forever, but you like Dom and you’re going to make the best of it while you’re here. So you’ll have no regrets and be ready to move on.”
Ginny sighed with relief. “Exactly.”
“Okay. Then I’m on board, too. What do you want us to do?”
“Nothing. This is the part I need to handle myself. I just haven’t figured out how yet.” She couldn’t exactly say, “Hey, let’s sleep together.” But she wasn’t the queen of seductresses, either. She was going to have to wait for her moment and take it. Given that he’d managed to avoid her for the past two weeks, that wasn’t going to be easy.
They called Joshua, who called his contact at a local boutique from Ginny’s suite. Four gowns were delivered within two hours, and Molly and Jessica made their choices before they returned to their rooms to dress for the formal dinner.
Ginny took special care with her outfit that night, wearing a coral-colored gown. She fixed her hair in the long braid again, the way she’d had it the night he’d kissed her.
When she finally came out of her suite, everyone was already there, including her mom—and the king, who was his charming best, and anybody with eyes in their head could see the reason was Rose.
After cocktails, they passed the small dining room where Dom and Ginny ate breakfast and lunch, and entered a much bigger dining room, something almost as fancy as the king’s. Dom let the king have the head of the table, taking the seat to his right and seating Ginny next to him.
The conversation ebbed and flowed around them as Ginny watched her mom, seated across from them at the king’s right. They talked about everything from sports to politics, and the king took great delight in sparring with her.
“He’s going to miss her when she’s gone next week.”
Ginny’s gaze snapped around to meet Dom’s. From the surprised expression that c
ame to his face, she could tell he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
“It’s okay. You can talk to me. We’re a team, remember?” She motioned from herself to Dom. “In this together.”
“Yes. But we don’t want to go too far.”
She turned on her seat, her taffeta gown ruffling and rustling, suddenly wondering if this was her moment. Everybody at the table was deep in conversation. Her bridesmaids chatted up Dom’s brother. The king and her mother were so engrossed, there might as well not have been anybody else at the table.
The best place for her most private conversation with him might just be in this crowded dining room.
She took a breath, caught his gaze. “Why not? We’re in a mighty big charade. I think it’s going to be impossible for us to set limits on how close it makes us.”
“I told you that we don’t want to get close because I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You think you’re going to hurt me over a few shared comments? I’m not asking you to divulge state secrets. I’m just saying the charade works better when we’re talking.” She smiled slightly. “We haven’t talked in weeks.”
“And it’s my fault?”
She shook her head. “Dom. Dom. Dom. You’re so uptight. I’m not placing blame. That’s the beauty of forming a team and maybe even the beauty of knowing this team doesn’t have to last. We’re only going to be together for two years or so. After that, we are the parents of your country’s next heir who must get along.”
Totally against the rules of etiquette, Dom picked up a fork and tapped it lightly against his plate. “So?”
She could think she made him nervous enough to do something out of line. Or she could see she made him comfortable enough to do something totally out of line.
She liked the second. She believed the second.
“So, I honestly, genuinely believe that if we would simply allow ourselves to be friendly—maybe even to get close—in these next few years, the rest of our lives would go a lot smoother.”
Harlequin Romance February 2016 Box Set Page 26
