took her elbow to guide her and sparkly little pinpricks skittered up her arm. She didn’t know which was worse—being incredibly attracted to him or her good reaction to his brother and dad. Either one of them could get her into trouble. She shouldn’t have admitted the night before that she’d have loved to have had a family like his. She could see it had made him curious. She’d tried to downplay it by being distant that morning, but she knew they were going to talk about this and she knew he had every right to ask. The question was: How did one explain living with a cheating, lying, thieving alcoholic to someone raised with such structure, such finery?
The minister of protocol turned out to be a short older woman whose green eyes lit when Ginny and Dominic entered the room.
She rose from her seat. “Prince Dominic!” She rounded the desk and hugged him. “I hear congratulations are in order. You’re about to have a baby!”
It was the first time anybody had actually been happy about her pregnancy or spoken of her baby as a baby, instead of a ruler or a prince or the guy who would be king. Ginny’s heart filled with warmth and she forgot all about her dad, her past, her rubbish upbringing and the fear that someday she’d have to explain it all to Dominic.
The minister turned to Ginny. “And you.” Her smile was warm, but didn’t reach her eyes. “Congratulations on your upcoming wedding. Welcome to our home.”
Stifling the urge to curtsy and the vague feeling that the minister didn’t quite think her good enough, she said, “Thank you. But I still haven’t made a decision on the marriage.”
Dominic took over the introductions. “Virginia, this is Sally Peterson, our minister of protocol.”
“You may call me Sally.” She motioned to the chairs in front of her desk.
“Because Virginia is on the fence, I thought perhaps you could better explain to her why our getting married is a good idea.”
“Okay.” Sally folded her hands and set them on the desk. “What’s the best way to explain this?” She thought for another second, then said, “Because your child will someday be our ruler, there isn’t a court in the world that would refuse us the opportunity to train him, to bring him up to be our king. Which means you have four choices. First, marry Dom.” She smiled at Dominic. “Second, don’t marry Dom but live in the palace with your child to help raise him or her. Third, don’t marry Dom, move back to the United States with a contingent of bodyguards and household servants until the child is twelve and will attend boarding school, and fourth, give up all rights.”
Her voice softened. “I’m certain you don’t want to give up all rights. Not marrying Dom, but living in the palace and helping raise your child makes sense, but will expose Dom to all kinds of gossip. He could be perceived as being unfit as a ruler if he couldn’t even persuade the woman he’d gotten pregnant to marry him.”
The thought of the ramifications for Dom made her blood run cold. She might not really know him, but she knew him enough that she could not let that happen to him. “What would happen if we got married?”
“You would need to be seen in public together at least twice before you would announce the quick wedding. We will also announce the pregnancy at the same time so that the rumors of a pregnancy don’t take the sheen off your wedding day. The theory is if we get it out immediately it won’t be ‘news’ anymore.”
Exactly what Dom had told her.
He caught her gaze and smiled at her.
Once again she saw a glimpse of the guy who had whisked her away the night of their fateful dalliance. Stiff and formal or not, almost-complete stranger or not, he was the father of her child and his needs had to be considered.
“Plus, if you marry Dom, your position gives you a bit of power so to speak. You can use your celebrity to support causes. As someone who’d worked in education, you may wish to host events to raise awareness or to build schools anywhere in the world.”
“Oh.” That was amazing. Something she hadn’t considered and something that would give her a chance to impact the world. Just the thought of it stole her breath. “That would be great.”
“Plus,” Sally said with a chuckle, “a royal wedding is fantastic. Your gown would be made by the designer of your choice.” She laughed. “And money is no object. The guests will be royalty and dignitaries from every country in the world. You would get to meet your president.”
“The president of the United States would be invited?”
“And he’d attend.” Sally smiled. “Our royal family is influential. We don’t just control waterways. We have oil, which gives us a seat in OPEC.”
It was hard enough to adjust to the knowledge that Dominic was a royal. Now she was being told his small, seemingly insignificant country was powerful?
Oh, boy.
Dominic’s hand stealthily slid from the arm of his chair over to her hand. He caught her pinkie with his, linking them.
She swallowed. He’d done that in the limo on the way to the club in Los Angeles. A small, sweet, simple gesture that made her heart catch and her breathing tremble. He recognized that all this information was becoming overwhelming for her. And the pinkie knot? It told her he was there for her.
Damn, but he could be sweet.
“But, as I mentioned, you have choices. And as I understand the situation, you and Dominic plan to divorce two years after the baby is born.”
Dominic quietly said, “Yes.”
The small, sweet gesture suddenly felt empty. Pointless. There was no need for them to be close. They just had to be friendly.
She pulled her hand away.
“In that case, most of your options still apply. Except Dom wouldn’t suffer the negative press of being unable to persuade you to marry him.”
“I could return to the United States.”
Sally laughed. “If, after years of being influential in education, of being someone known to the entire world, someone impacting the world, you still want to go back, then, yes.”
Ginny smiled. Something about the way Sally kept highlighting the good part about staying in the country told her there was a catch, and she knew it had to have something to do with her child. “But the baby would go with me?”
Sally rose from the desk and walked to the front where she leaned against it. Her voice was soft, gentle. “Yes. As I’d said, that is an option. But it will require heightened security and teachers for home schooling unless you can find a private school that passes our tests. Then every time there was a ceremony, a formal dinner, a holiday, he’d have to be flown home.” She shifted against the desk. “Ideally, our future ruler should be raised here. In the palace. It just makes things easier.”
“Right.”
Dominic faced her. “Our child needs to be acclimated into the life of a royal. Not rigidly, but to realize all monarchs and leaders are people, too. Countries are made up of people. Troubles are borne by people. Ruling is about people.”
Caught in the gaze of his dark, dark eyes,
