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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.
