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With his coffee gone and Ginny’s cookie demolished, they walked back to the limo, one bodyguard conspicuously holding a box of a half-dozen brightly painted sugar cookies.
He helped Ginny into the limo, then sat beside her, realizing Pietro was the kind of man who wouldn’t care if her ex was a king. He would pursue Ginny. With the money to buy and sell loyalty, her connection to a king would mean nothing to him. Once Ginny was free of Dom, it wouldn’t even cross Pietro’s mind to care that she’d been his wife. He’d pursue her.
His nerves endings stood on edge like the fur of a hissing cat. Not out of jealousy, he told himself. Out of fear for her. Pietro might be a great friend, but he wouldn’t be a good husband. Like Dom, he took what he wanted. Discarded it when he was done.
His nerves popped, and he suddenly knew another consequence of this fake relationship. In two years, he was going to have to watch his wife with another man.
* * *
That night in bed, the tension that vibrated from Dom rolled through Ginny. She considered shifting away, going to her own side of the bed, but she couldn’t. Her baby would be born in thirty-two days, give or take a week for the unpredictability of first babies, and in two short years she would be gone. She wouldn’t give up one second of her time with him. Even if it meant she wouldn’t sleep tonight because the muscles of Dom’s arm beneath her head had stiffened to concrete.
Finally, unable to take the tension anymore, she said, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Right.” Knowing they weren’t going to get any sleep anyway, she ran her fingers along the thick dark hair on his chest and said, “So I’ll bet it was nice seeing your friend today.”
He laughed. “Yeah. Nice.”
“You know he was only teasing.”
“Yes. He’s a jokester and if he’d do something stupid at a bar, the press would love it and it could take the heat off of us.”
“I don’t mind the heat.”
He didn’t say anything for a second, then his arm tightened around her shoulders. “I know you don’t.”
“So we don’t need for your friend to get punched out at a bar.”
“Especially since I would like to have dinner with him. Actually, he’s somebody I’d like to have in the baby’s life. He started off wealthy, could have bummed around the world forever on his dad’s money, but he knew the importance of being strong, being smart. I might just make him the baby’s godfather so he’s here for more than the big events.”
She nodded but tears came to her eyes as an awful scenario ran through her brain. In two years, she and Dom would be divorced, but Dom and the baby’s lives would go on—without her. She would come and go for those big events in the baby’s life. She’d even be a part of things, but not really. After her two years were up, she’d be an outsider looking in.
“Are you crying?”
Dom’s soft voice trickled down to her.
She swallowed. “It’s just a pregnancy thing.”
He sat up slightly and shifted her to her pillow so he could look down at her. “Is there anything I can do?”
You could love me, she thought and wished with all her heart she could say the words. But she’d seduced this guy twice. She’d agreed to his plan to have their child born amid celebration. She was good to his family, good to his employees, good to the press and his subjects. She didn’t spend a lot of money, but she did spend enough that she looked like the princess he wanted her to be.
And what did she get for her troubles? The knowledge that in two years she’d be nothing to him.
She sniffed.
Dominic’s eyes widened with horror. “Please. Silent tears are one thing. Actually crying will make us both nuts.”
“Really? I’m fat. I’m hungry. I’m always hungry. I’m always on. I’ve been good to you, good to your family, good to your subjects and you can’t love me.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “It isn’t that I can’t love you.”
“Oh, it’s just that you don’t want to love me. That makes it so much better.”
He popped his eyes open. “It isn’t that, either.”
“Then explain this to me because I’m tired but can’t sleep. And I’m hungry even though I eat all the time. And I just feel so freaking alone.”
“We could call your friends.”
“I want my husband.”
“The Affectionate Prince.”
“I don’t give a flying fig what the press calls you. This is our baby. Half yours. You should be here when I need you.”
“I am here when you need me.”
