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She smiled and nodded, and the conversation died. But when he helped her out of the limo at Marco’s seaside coffee shop, she was all smiles.
A reporter shouted, “Coming back to the scene of the crime?”
She laughed. “If fainting was a crime, tons of pregnant women would be in jail.” She smiled prettily as she slid on the sunglasses that made her look like a rock star. “Just hungry for a cookie.”
With his bodyguards clearing a path, they made their way into the coffee shop. Standing behind the counter, Marco beamed with pleasure.
He bowed. “It is an honor that you love my cookies.”
She laughed. “The pleasure is all mine. Not only do I want a cookie and a glass of milk for now, but I’m taking a half-dozen cookies back to the palace.”
Marco scurried to get her order. Dominic frowned. “Don’t you want to hear what I want?”
“Hazelnut coffee,” Marco said, clearly disinterested in Dominic as he carefully placed cookies in a box for Ginny. Antonella brought Dominic’s coffee to the counter.
He pulled a card out to pay, but Marco stopped him with a gasp. “It is my honor to serve our princess today.”
Dominic said, “Right.”
Because Ginny didn’t faint this time, Dom could actually lead her out to the long deck that became a dock. He set her milk on the table in front of her, along with her single cookie. He handed the box of six cookies to a bodyguard.
Ginny said, “There better be six cookies in that box when we get back to the palace.”
Dominic’s typically staid and stoic bodyguard laughed.
After a sip of coffee, he said, “They love you, you know?”
She unwrapped her big sugar cookie as if it were a treasure. “Everybody loves me. But there’s a reason for that. It’s not magic. I’m a child of an alcoholic. I know everybody has something difficult in their life so I treat everyone well.”
“I treat everyone well.”
She lifted her cookie. “Yeah. Sort of.”
“Sort of? I never yell at anyone. And if I reprimand, it’s with kindness.”
“You’re still a prince.”
“Dominic?”
Dom glanced up to see his boarding school friend, Pietro Fonichelli. The son of an Italian billionaire and a billionaire several times over in his own right, thanks to his computer software skills, Pietro was probably better known around the globe than Dominic was. He was also on Dominic’s list of friends, the people his bodyguards were told to allow access to him.
Dominic rose. “What are you doing here?”
As he said the words, Dom noticed Pietro wore shorts and a big T-shirt.
“Vacationing.” He faced Ginny. “And this is your lovely bride.”
It was the first time Dominic was uncomfortable with the ruse. Engaging in a charade to help his subjects enjoy the birth of the country’s next heir? That was a good thing. Fooling someone he considered a friend? It didn’t sit well. Pietro had been at the wedding, but there had been so many people that at the time it hadn’t registered that he was tricking a friend.
He politely said, “Yes, this is Ginny Jones.”
Pietro laughed. “Ginny Jones? Is she so American that she didn’t take your last name?”
Ginny rose, extending her hand to Pietro. “No. Dom sometimes forgets we’re married.”
Laughing, Pietro took the hand she extended. Instead of shaking it, he kissed the knuckles.
Something hot and fuzzy whipped through Dom. The custom in Xaviera was that a man had a choice. A handshake or a kiss. He should not be upset that his friend chose a kiss. It was nothing more than a sign of affection for the wife of a friend.
Holding Dom’s wife’s gaze, Pietro said, “I’m not entirely sure how a man forgets he’s married to such a beautiful woman.”
Ginny smiled as if she thought Pietro’s words were baloney, but Dom had never seen his friend so smitten before. Just as Dom had been tongue-tied and eager the day he’d met Ginny, Pietro all but drooled.
Ginny said, “Dom’s a great husband.”
“Yeah, well, if he ever isn’t—” he let go of Ginny’s hand and pulled out a business card “—this card has my direct line on it.”
Ginny laughed, but Dom said, “What? Are you flirting with my wife?”
“Teasing,” Pietro said. He pulled Dom into a bear hug, released him and said, “It was great to run into you.” He glanced at Ginny, then back at Dom. “We should do dinner sometime.”
The air came back to Dom’s lungs and he felt incredibly stupid. He knew Pietro was a jokester. He knew his friend loved getting a rise out of Dom. It was part of what made them click. They could joke. Tease. “Yes. We should.”
