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.”
“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 throne 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