Pregnant with a Royal Baby!

And that’s why he knew he couldn’t sleep with her. No matter what she said or did or how she phrased things, she was innocent. Too nice for him.

But she was also hurting. She really believed she’d always be alone.

He couldn’t think about that. He had to be fair.

They received dignitaries for hours. Even Dom was tired by the time his father, brother, cousin and Ginny’s entourage escorted them to the palace ballroom.

They entered amid a trumpet blast and after toasts and a short speech by his father welcoming Ginny into the family, they finally ate.

Still, in between dances, he managed to find time to speak to his detail and arrange for their luggage to be taken to the yacht that night, instead of the next morning.

There was no way in hell he was taking her back to his apartment, where they’d not only had privacy, they’d had friendly chats and a wonderful kiss.

Even he had his limits.

The staff on the Crown Jewel was too big to be in on the marriage ruse, but precautions were easier there. He and Ginny would be sleeping in the side-by-side bedrooms of the master suite, but the yacht was also so big that he could keep his distance. They’d sail so far out onto the ocean that even long lenses couldn’t get pictures. And the staff would rotate so the same people wouldn’t see them twice and wonder why they weren’t kissing or holding hands.

Not only would this work, but it would be easy.

Piece of cake, as Ginny would say.

* * *

When they had to take a helicopter to the yacht, Ginny knew why Dom had chosen it as their honeymoon spot. The pilot put the helicopter down on the landing pad, and Dom helped her out, gathering the skirt of her gown so she didn’t trip over it as she navigated the steps.

Walking across the deck, under the starlit sky, she glanced around in awe. “It’s the friggin’ Love Boat.”

He turned to her with absolute horror in his eyes. “What?”

“You never saw the television show from the eighties? The Love Boat?”

Clearly relieved that she was referencing a television show, not referring to something about their relationship, he said, “You weren’t even born in the eighties, so how did you see it?”

“My mom watched reruns all the time. It’s a show about a cruise ship.”

His eyes narrowed. “So you’re saying our yacht is big?”

“Your yacht is huge.”

“If that’s a compliment, I accept it.”

It wasn’t a compliment. She was telling him she knew his plan. He intended to use this big ship to avoid her for the two weeks they were to be away. But he didn’t seem to catch on to what she was saying.

It didn’t matter. She was happy to have figured out his plan. She’d thought the night of the formal dinner for her friends had been her moment, and when it turned out that it wasn’t, she’d hoped her honeymoon might give her another shot. And here she stood on a boat big enough to rival an aircraft carrier. It meant her options for finding another moment were seriously limited. But at least she knew what she was up against.

A security guard opened the door for them and Dom motioned for her to enter first. She stepped inside, expecting to see stairs with metal railings painted white, expecting to hear the hollow sound of a stairwell. Instead, she entered a small lobby. Sleek hardwood floors led to an elevator. Gold-framed paintings hung on the walls.

She spun around to face Dom. “Seriously? Is that a Picasso?”

Dom said, “Probably,” as the elevator door opened. She hadn’t even seen him press a button for it.

They rode down, only a few floors, before the door opened again onto a room so stunningly beautiful it could have been in a magazine. Huge windows in the back displayed the black sky with the faint dusting of stars. A taupe sofa flanked by two printed club chairs sat in front of a fireplace. The accent rug that held them all in a group was the same print as the club chairs. A long wooden bar gleamed in a far corner. Plants in elaborate pots converted empty space into focal points.

She wanted to say, “Wow,” but her chest hurt. Her knees wobbled. This was her wedding night. But unlike a normal bride who knew what to expect, every step of her journey was a mystery. She wanted one thing. Dom wanted another. And only one of them could win.

Security guards entered behind Dom, rolling the cart carrying their luggage. She’d packed her four bags with care. Even though Dom had told her she’d need only a bikini and some sunblock, she’d brought clothes for romantic dinners—and undies. Pretty panties, bras and sleepwear that she and Joshua had chosen from catalogs so exclusive that prices weren’t listed beneath the descriptions.

Joshua had said, “If you have to ask the price, you can’t afford it.”