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“We pay for separate quarters.”

Hearing Dom’s voice, she spun around on her seat. His chin and cheeks bore dark shadows, evidence that he hadn’t shaved in days. His eyes looked pale and hollow from lack of sleep—even though he’d just had a ten-hour flight, which was perfect for catching up on sleep. But the killer was that he wore jeans and a T-shirt.

The desire to tease him almost outweighed the desire to jump into his arms and weep. Except this was the man who didn’t love her. Who hadn’t thought enough of her to come out of a bunker when apparently he could have. Who hadn’t been with her for the birth of their child.

This was also the man she’d have to fight for their child. If he thought he’d just fought a war, he was in for a rude awakening because she was about to show him what real war was.

“Get out.”

He peered beyond her to the bed, where their son lay in the bottom drawer of her mom’s dresser. “Is that my son?”

His voice was soft, reverent.

She tensed her face to stop the muscles from weakening or tears from forming in her eyes. She would not be weak in this fight. Her child would not grow up afraid to love.

Still, they might ultimately get into a battle over this child, but Dom also had a right to see his son.

“Yes. That’s our baby.”

He caught her gaze. “You didn’t name him.”

“I didn’t think James Tiberius Kirk was your final answer.”

He laughed. She didn’t.

He took a few steps closer to the bed. “Oh, my God. He’s so little.”

She had to fight the tremor of emotion that ripped through her at the awe in his voice.

“You would know that if you’d been there for his birth.”

He took another step toward the bed. “My father didn’t tell me you were in labor.”

That sucked the air out of her lungs. “What?”

He paused and faced her, preparing to answer her, but her heart ached for him. His ridiculously pompous dad had kept his baby from him? She saw the anguish on his face. Knew there might be bigger reasons he hadn’t shaved, hadn’t slept and suddenly wore blue jeans and a T-shirt.

She rose from her chair, took the baby out of the drawer and watched his little face scrunch as he woke. “Hey, little guy, here’s your daddy.”

She presented the child to Dom and he stared at him. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow.” She smiled. “Hold him.”

“He’s just barely bigger than my hand.” He caught her gaze. “Won’t I break him?”

She laughed. “I’m going to trust you to be careful.” She nudged the blanket-wrapped baby to him. “Put your one hand under his bum and the other under his head.”

Dom did as he was told and took the baby. He bent and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Ginny stepped back, unable to handle the sweetness of the meeting anymore. Or Dom’s confusion. He was so new to the baby business that it would have been fun to watch him learn and grow with the baby—their baby. But even though his dad had kept the news that she was in labor from him, he’d always said the kingdom would come first. And they’d just lived the reality of what that meant.

She deserved better than that. Her baby deserved better than that.

He caught her gaze. “My dad said something about complications.”

“He was just small, so they monitored him.”

“You know his birth hasn’t even been announced.”

“No. Not at first. Eventually my mom told me.”

“It seems my dad was teaching me a lesson.”

The pompous old windbag.

“I’d always said the kingdom came first. I’d said I’d never love anybody.” He glanced over at her. “I said I wouldn’t do what he did when my mom died. Apparently that insulted him. So when the war and you going into labor just sort of happened, he saw it as a chance to show me what my attitude really meant.”

“Oh.” So maybe the king wasn’t so much pompous as interfering. Not good, but at least not god-awful. She wanted to ask Dom if he’d learned anything. But he looked so sad and so broken. And she didn’t want to soften to him.

“I missed the birth of my son.”

“If you’d known I was in labor, would you have come out of that bunker? In those first hours before you knew the threat wasn’t as bad as you and your dad had believed...could you have come out?”

“I’d have pushed it.” He unexpectedly hugged the baby to him. “I’d have given instructions for the hospital to let me know when you were close—”

“So you might have missed it anyway?”

“Maybe.”

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