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But as he said the words, he got a funny sensation. A prickling that tiptoed up his spine to the roots of his hair. He glanced to the left and right, not sure what he was looking for. He saw only dinner servers in white jackets and gloves. People milling about the formal dining room.

Calling himself crazy, he went back to the entertainment that was watching his wife eat and didn’t think of the prickling until he and Ginny were on the dance floor an hour later. With everyone’s attention on his father and Ginny’s mother, who were doing their own version of a samba, he felt comfortable enough to enjoy holding Ginny, dancing with her. He’d spun her around twice, then dipped her enough to make her laugh, and there it was again. A tingling that raced up his back and settled in his neck.

Still, he didn’t mention it to Ginny. They danced and mingled with the dignitaries invited to their annual gala, including the sheikh currently giving them trouble.

She curtsied graciously when introduced. “I was hoping you could settle your differences tonight.”

The sheikh’s gaze bounced to Dominic’s. Dominic only shrugged. She hadn’t really said anything too bad.

The sheikh caught Ginny’s hand and kissed it. “We don’t talk business at the gala.”

She bowed apologetically. “I’m so sorry. But since I was hoping that settling this agreement might get me two weeks on the yacht with my husband I guess I didn’t see it as business.”

The sheikh laughed. “I like a woman who doesn’t mind asking for what she wants.”

Ginny smiled. Dominic took the cue and said, “Perhaps we could meet first thing Monday morning.”

“If your father’s schedule is free.”

“I’m sure it will be for you.”

An hour later, seeing that Ginny was tired, Dominic excused himself to his father who—along with Ginny’s mother—thought it was a good idea for her to leave.

He took her hand and led her down a few halls to their elevator. When they were securely behind the door of their apartment, he tugged on her hand and brought her to him for a long happy kiss.

“You do realize you just accomplished what diplomacy hasn’t been able to get done in three weeks.”

“Does this mean I get my three weeks on the yacht?”

“I thought it was two.”

“I want three.”

“You’re getting greedy.”

She curtsied. “I just like my time with you, Your Majesty. And your undivided attention.”

He scooped her off her feet and carried her to their bedroom. “I’m about to give you all the undivided attention you can handle.”

* * *

The next morning Ginny awakened as she had every day since their marriage, wrapped in his arms. At six, Dom rolled out of bed and used the bathroom. He slid into a robe and, from seeing his daily routine, Ginny knew he’d gone to their everyday dining room. Sliding into a pretty pink robe, Ginny followed him.

“Not sleepy this morning?”

Rather than take her chair, she slid to his lap. “I feel extraordinarily good.”

“So maybe we should do what we did last night every night.”

“Maybe we should.”

The sound of the servant’s door being opened brought Ginny to her feet. As she walked to her side of the table, a young girl wheeled in a cart containing his breakfast of bacon and eggs, plus bowls of fruit, carafes of fruit juices, and plates of pastries and breads.

She smiled at Ginny expectantly. Knowing she was waiting for her breakfast order, Ginny said, “I’ll just eat what we have here.”

Dom glanced over. “No bacon? No eggs?”

“Wait until you see now many bagels I eat.”

He laughed as the serving girl left.

As always, their meal was accompanied by fourteen newspapers. She grabbed USA TODAY as he took London’s the Times. Their table grew quiet until Dom flipped a page and suddenly said, “What?”

Busy putting cream cheese on a bagel, Ginny didn’t even look over. “What’s the what for?”

He slammed the paper to the table and reached for the house phone behind him. “Sally, get up here.”

Ginny set down her bagel. “What’s going on?”

He shoved the paper across the table. She glanced down and saw a picture of her and Dom with their heads together as their dinners were served, a picture of her and Dom dancing, a picture of Dom leading her out the back door of the ballroom. All beneath the headline: The Affectionate Prince.

“At least they didn’t call you Prince Charming.”

He glared at her.

“Dom, I’m sorry. Your picture gets in the paper almost every day here in Xaviera. I’m missing the significance of this.”

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