Harlequin Romance February 2016 Box Set

by Barbara Wallace

  Pushing the empty luggage cart, the bodyguards left with a nod to Dom.

  And suddenly they were alone.

  Straightening her shoulders, she faced him with a smile. “You know what? I think I’ll just go change.”

  She glanced down at her beautiful wedding dress. It would now be cleaned and pressed to be put on display in the part of the palace open to tourists.

  “It seems a shame to take this off.”

  “It is pretty.” He smiled. “You were a stunning bride.”

  Her spirits lifted. No matter how strong he was, he liked her. He’d always liked her. She could do this.

  She walked back down the hall to the room she’d seen the guards take their bags and found herself in another sitting room. She shook her head. “These people must spend a fortune on furniture.”

  The tulle underskirt of her gown swishing, she turned to the right—the side of the suite her room was on in the palace—and headed to that bedroom. She opened the door on another sitting room, this one smaller, and walked into the bedroom, only to find it empty. She glanced in the walk-in closet, thinking they might have carried her bags the whole way in there, but that was empty, too.

  She walked out of the bedroom, through the small sitting room, then the big sitting room and to the hall. “Dom?”

  He ambled to the front of the hall where he could see her. “What?”

  “My stuff’s not in my room.”

  “It has to be. I saw the bodyguards carting it back.”

  “Well, it’s not here.”

  He huffed out a sigh. “Let me see.” He walked back along the hall and through the sitting room into the second bedroom of the master suite. Doing exactly as she had done, he frowned when he didn’t see her bags in the bedroom, then checked the closet.

  “That’s weird.”

  “Yeah.”

  He slowly faced her. “They might have put your things in my room.”

  “Oh?”

  “Don’t get weird notions. My instruction was for your things to be put in your room.” He went into the master bedroom.

  On impulse, she followed him. Nothing ever really went as planned with the two of them, so maybe the thing to do would be let things happen.

  His room didn’t have a sitting room. The big double doors opened onto an enormous bed. Beige walls with a simple beige-and-white spread on the bed gave the room a soothing, peaceful feel. But Dom didn’t even pause.

  “No luggage here,” he said, finding the bedroom empty. He turned to the walk-in closet. He opened the grand double doors and sighed. “And there’s everything.”

  “They think we’re sleeping together.”

  “I told them we’re not.”

  “You actually told them?”

  “I told them this marriage is a show for the heir.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m the one who should be embarrassed. This is my mess we’re cleaning up.”

  “Oh, yeah. Every woman loves it broadcast that her new husband doesn’t want her.”

  “It wasn’t broadcast. A few key servants know the secret. It’s why we’re on the yacht, not at the villa. There are many servants here, and they rotate. None of them is going to see us enough to put it all together.”

  Suddenly weary, she decided this was not a seduction night. It was a total bust. How on earth could she seduce a guy who had told his servants his marriage was a sham? She turned to leave but stopped and faced him again.

  “You know how we did that thing with the cuff links?”

  He cautiously said, “Yes.”

  “Well, there are a hundred buttons on the back of this dress, most of which I can’t reach. Can I get some help?”

  His relieved “Sure” did nothing to help her flagging spirit. If anything, it made her feel even worse.

  Just wanting to get this over with so she could race out of his room, go to her room and be appropriately miserable, she presented her back to him.

  His fingers bumped against the first button. She felt it slide through the loop. When it took a second for him to reach for the next button, she realized her hair was in the way and she scooped it to the side, totally revealing the long row of buttons to him.

  “That’s a lot of buttons.”

  Holding her hair to the side, she said, “Exactly why I need help.”

  He quickly undid three or four buttons, then she felt his fingers stall again.

  “Getting tired, Your Majesty?”

  “No. I’m fine.”

  But his voice was pinched, strained.

  Another two buttons popped through the loops.

  “You’re not wearing a bra.”

  “Didn’t want the straps to show through the lace.”

  He said, “Ump.”

  Another two buttons popped. Then two more. But when his fingers stalled again, she felt them skim along her skin. Not a lot, just a quick brush as if he couldn’t resist temptation.

  When he got to the last buttons, the three just above her butt, his hands slowed. When the last button popped, she almost turned around, but something told her to be still. His fingers trailed up her spine until he reached the place where he could lay his hands on the sides of her waist. He grazed them along the indent to her hips, then back up again. When they reached her rib cage, they kept going, under her dress to her naked breasts.

  Her breath caught. She wanted to tell him she was his. That she’d been his from the moment she laid eyes on him. But she knew this wasn’t as easy a decision for him as it was for her.

  “You are temptation.”

  She turned, letting the top of her dress fall as she did so. “I don’t intend to be.”

  “Liar.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe a little.” She raised her gaze to his. “But would it be so, so terrible to pretend you like me?”

  He shook his head, as he lowered it to kiss her. Their mouths met tentatively, then she rose to her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his strongly, surely.

  She might not get forever. But she wanted this two years enough that she was willing to reach out and take it.

  He cupped his hand on the back of her head and dipped her down far enough that her dress slithered around her hips. When he brought her back up again, the dress fell to the floor.

  “No panties, either?”

  She stood before him totally naked. No lies. No pretense. When she whispered, “It was actually a very heavy dress.” He laughed.

  Another woman might have worried, but Ginny smiled. Part of what he liked about her was her ability to make him laugh. She wasn’t surprised when he slid his arms around her back and knees, and carried her to the bed.

  CHAPTER NINE

  GINNY AWAKENED THE next morning with Dom’s arms wrapped around her waist. She squeezed her eyes shut, enjoying the sensation, then told herself she had to get her priorities in line before he woke up.

  They hadn’t talked the night before. They’d had an amazing time, but they hadn’t spoken one word. She hadn’t been expecting words of love, but she knew making this marriage real hadn’t been what he wanted. Though she hadn’t actually seduced him, which had been her plan, he could still be upset that he hadn’t been able to resist the temptation of their chemistry.

  She opened her eyes to find him staring down at her. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” He searched her eyes. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  And pragmatic Dom was back.

  So she smiled at him and stretched up to give him a kiss. “I do.”

  “I’m serious about not wanting this to last and about us not getting emotionally involved with each other.”

  “I hate to tell you, but I’m pretty sure raising a child together will more than get us emotionally involved.”

  “I’m not talking about being friendly. I’m talking about being ridiculously dependent.”

  Even as he spoke, he rose from the bed. With the fluidity and ease of a man comfortable with who he was, he
stretched and reached for a robe.

  She sat up, almost sorry he was covering all those wonderful muscles when he secured the belt around his waist.

  He picked up the phone and, without dialing, said, “Bacon, eggs, bagels, croissants, and the usual fruit and juices.”

  He hung up the phone and walked into the bathroom.

  Ginny stared after him. The man really was accustomed to getting everything he wanted. But constantly seeing the evidence of it was a good reminder that he wasn’t going to be persuaded to do anything, be anything, other than what he wanted.

  He came out of the bathroom, took off the robe and to her surprise climbed back into bed. He leaned against the headboard and reached down to catch her shoulders and bring her up beside him.

  Bending to kiss her, he said, “We have about ten minutes before breakfast gets here. Any thoughts on what we should do?” The sexy, suggestive tone of his voice told her exactly what he wanted to do.

  She laughed. “I think I need to eat and get my strength back.”

  He sobered suddenly. “You know, we rarely talk about your pregnancy. Are you okay? Really?”

  “Millions of women have babies every day. I’m not special or in danger because I’m pregnant.”

  “You’re pregnant with an heir to a throne.” He looked away, then glanced down at her again. “And even if he wasn’t heir to the throne, he’s my baby.”

  He said it with such a proprietary air that her heart stuttered and she realized something unexpected. “So, like me, if we hadn’t accidentally gotten pregnant, you wouldn’t have had a child, either.”

  “No. A baby was part of the deal with the princess of Grennady. But this is different.”

  “I know.” She ran her hand along her tummy, which was no longer flat. Though only slightly swollen, after a little over three months, it was beginning to show signs of cradling a child. “Do you think we’re going to be good parents?”

  “I don’t know about you but I’m going to be an excellent father.”

  She laughed. “Conceited much?”

  “I am going to be a good father,” he insisted indignantly. “I know every mistake my father made with me and my brother—especially my brother—and I won’t do those things.” He shifted against the headboard. “What about you?”

  “My mother was aces as a mom.” She laughed. “Still is. My dad left a lot to be desired.”

  “So you’re not going to drink?”

  She shrugged. “I sometimes think it’s smarter to demonstrate responsible behavior than to avoid something tricky like alcohol.”

  “Whew. For a while there I thought you were going to tell me I was going to have to give up drinking until our kid was in college or something.”

  Thinking of all the times she’d seen him come to the apartment and head directly to the bar, she turned slightly so she could look him in the eye. “It wouldn’t hurt you to cut down. Maybe not drink in the afternoon.”

  “My job is stressful.”

  “Scotch isn’t going to take that away.”

  “But it makes me feel better.”

  She peeked up at him again. “Really?”

  He shrugged. “Some days. Others not so much. Those days it’s better to keep a clear head.”

  “You deal with some real idiots?”

  “Most of the people in our parliament come from old oil money. They care about two things. Keeping their families wealthy and keeping our waterways safe so that they can keep their families wealthy.”

  She laughed. “You’re making fun, but it makes sense.”

  “Right after my mother died there was a problem with pirates.”

  “Pirates!” For that, she sat up and gave him her full attention. “I love pirates!”

  He gave her a patient look. “These pirates aren’t fun like Jack Sparrow. They’re ruthless. Cutthroat. There was a particularly nasty band all but making it impossible for tankers to get through without paying a ‘fee’ for safe passage. The papers exploded with criticism of my dad for not taking a firm hand. Parliament called for his resignation. And he sat in his quarters, staring at pictures of my mom, having all his meals brought up, not changing out of sweats.”

  “Holy cow.” Entranced now, she shimmied around to sit cross-legged on the bed so she could look directly at him as he spoke. “What happened?”

  “On the last second of what seemed to be the last day before he would have been required to face down parliament, my dad sent the military to destroy the pirate ships. It was a war that lasted about forty-five minutes. He bombed the boats until there was nothing left but smoke and an oil slick.”

  “Wow.”

  “Then he sent the military to the country that was aiding and abetting, and just about blew them off the map.”

  Two raps sounded on the door. Dominic pulled away. “That would be breakfast. You wait here.”

  “You’re bringing me breakfast in bed?”

  He tilted his head. “It looks like I am.”

  She saw it then. Not just his total confusion over his feelings for her, but the reason for it. He’d said before that his dad had made a mistake that he did not intend to repeat. This was it. Except she couldn’t tell if the mistake was grieving his dead wife or being in love with his wife so much that he’d grieved her.

  Dominic returned, rolling a cart covered with a white linen tablecloth into the room. He pulled a bed tray from beneath the cart and said, “I’m about to put bacon and eggs on this tray, so get yourself where you want to be sitting.”

  Still cross-legged in the middle of the bed, she patted a spot in front of her. “I like to be able to look at you when we talk.”

  “So you’re going to want me to take off the robe while we eat?”

  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.