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“Yeah. Right. You’re here physically, but emotionally you’re a million miles away.”
“I rule a country.”
She shook her head. “Your dad rules the country. You work for him. Technically you’re just the minister of finance.”
“I need to be prepared for when I take over.”
“Really? Your dad is around fifty-five. He’s nowhere near retirement age. You and I could have three kids and a great life before your dad retires.”
He laughed. “Seriously?” But she could tell from his tone of voice that the thought wasn’t an unpleasant one.
She sat up. Holding his gaze, she said, “Would it be so wrong to ease off for the next ten years?”
He shook his head with a laugh. “First you wanted two years...now you want ten?”
“Yes.” A sense of destiny filled her. The this-is-your-moment tug on her heart. There was something different in his voice. He wasn’t hard, inflexible, as he usually was. In some ways, his eyes looked as tired as hers.
Could he be tired of fighting?
“I’m asking for ten years, Your Majesty, if your dad retires at sixty-five.”
Dom frowned.
She plowed on, so determined that her heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings. “What if he works until he’s seventy? What if he’s like Queen Elizabeth, keeping the throne until he’s ninety? We could have a long, happy life.”
Dom shook his head. “My dad won’t rule until he’s ninety.” He caught her gaze. “But he could—will—rule another ten years.”
“Doesn’t ten years even tempt you?”
“You tempt me.”
“So keep me. See if we can’t figure this whole thing out together? See if we can’t learn to have a family—be a family—in ten years.”
* * *
It sounded like such a good plan when his heart beat slow and heavy in his chest from the ache of knowing he was about to lose her. He lowered his head and kissed her. Her arms came up to wrap around his shoulders and everything suddenly made sense in Dominic’s world.
The buzz of the phone on his bedside table interrupted his thoughts. He didn’t want to stop kissing Ginny. Didn’t want this moment filled with possibilities to end. So he let the phone go, knowing it would switch to voice mail after five rings, only to have it immediately start ringing again.
The call of duty was stronger than his simple human needs. He pulled away from Ginny with a sigh, but didn’t release her. Stretching, he retrieved the receiver for the phone and said, “Yes?”
“One of our ports has been taken by the sheikh. We are at war.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DOMINIC DIDN’T JUMP out of bed; he flew. “I don’t know how much of this is going to hit the press or how soon, but the sheikh has taken one of our ports. He’s telling people we’re too weak to protect our waterways, so he’s taking over. Which means that port is the first step to all-out war.”
Ginny sucked in a breath. On top of all the other odd things she was feeling tonight, having her husband go to war made her chest hurt. She grabbed his arm as he turned to find clothes and get dressed.
“Where will you be? You don’t actually have to lead troops into battle, do you?”
“No. There’s a war room. My father and I will direct the military from there.” He pursed his lips for a second as if debating, then sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll be fine. It’s our military who will suffer casualties. Because we don’t want to attack our own facility, we have to try diplomacy first. Worst-case scenario happens if he tries to move farther inland or take another port. Then there will be battles, casualties.” He caught her gaze. “And then you might not see me until it’s over.”
She nodded, but the tears were back. No matter how strange or odd she felt, she didn’t want to stop him from doing his duty. In fact, there was a part of her that was proud of him.
She leaned forward and kissed him. “Go stop that guy.”
He nodded, dressed and raced out of the room.
Ginny lay in bed, breathing hard. Her stomach felt like a rock. Everything around her seemed out of control. So she did some of the breathing she’d been taught in the childbirth classes Sally had arranged for her. Even though Dom was supposed to be in the delivery room, he hadn’t attended the classes. But since most of it was about breathing and remaining calm, he really hadn’t needed to. Nobody could remain calm and detached the way Dom could.
She breathed again, in and out, and her stomach relaxed. Knowing she wouldn’t sleep, she got out of bed and grabbed her book. Sitting on the sofa—with all her lights on because she was just a little afraid, and stupid as it sounded, the light made her feel better—she read until three o’clock in the morning. Her stomach tensed often enough that a horrible realization sliced through her. Still, with weeks until her due date, she didn’t want to think she was in labor. So she let herself believe these contractions would pass.
