Pregnant with a Royal Baby!

“Really? I can have bridesmaids?”

“As many as you want.” On impulse he bent down and kissed her cheek. “Would a wedding without bridesmaids really look authentic?”

She shook her head.

“So call them.”

* * *

Ginny watched Dom leave the sitting room and head for his bedroom suite, fighting that feeling again. Except this time, she named it. She wasn’t worried about liking him or even being attracted to him. What she was feeling—or maybe recognizing—was that he was a nice guy. A good person. She thanked God he’d reminded her that the wedding needed to “look” authentic to serve his purpose. Otherwise, she might have melted right there at his feet.

She could resist the solemn guy, the one who would be king someday, who wanted everything to be perfect. The other guy, the sweet one who tried to make her happy? That was the guy who had been staring at her in the elevator. The one she’d wanted to kiss. He was the one she had to watch out for.

She returned to her room, found her laptop and connected with her two best friends on Skype. They knew she was pregnant, of course. She’d gone to them for guidance. She’d also called them the day she’d fainted, when she’d agreed to marry Dom. They were not surprised to be receiving invitations to be bridesmaids.

That little piece of normalcy lifted her spirits. It wasn’t going to be a real marriage but it was going to be a real wedding, and she was going to look pretty and have her friends with her. They would keep her occupied the week before the big day. And, in a good mood, she’d be better able to look happy for the ceremony.

The next morning at breakfast, she showed her appreciation to Dominic by asking him how his meetings had gone the night before.

He winced. “There are one or two people who fear we are making an alliance with the United States by bringing you into the royal family.”

She laughed. When he didn’t, she said, “Really? Seriously? They think marrying a commoner from the United States is a lead-in to a treaty?”

“My brother will be marrying a woman as part of a treaty. Why would you be surprised our government is questioning my marriage?”

She shook her head and went back to her oatmeal. “I forget that your country looks at marriage differently.”

“It’s not really my country that looks at marriage differently. It’s the royal family and what’s expected of us. I’ll be spending weeks alleviating the fears of several members of parliament, assuring them that our marriage is not part of a big master plan.”

Taking a bite of oatmeal, she nodded. “I get it. It’s something you shouldn’t think you have to do, but you will. Just like I’ll be spending two hours with Sally’s staff today, learning how to curtsy.”

“I thought curtsying was out. Old school. Something nobody did anymore.”

“According to Sally’s morning memo, there are some small eastern European countries that still believe in it. I just hope we don’t run into any of those royal families when I’m big-as-a-house pregnant. I can’t imagine curtsying and balancing twenty-five pounds of stomach.”

He laughed. “You’re going to make an interesting princess.”

“Lucky for you, it’s only for a little over two years.”

He said, “Uh-huh,” and went back to reading his newspaper.

Ginny didn’t care. Their conversation proved that she could talk to the “nice” Dominic and not get carried away. They did not have to be best friends. But they did have to get along. They had to look good together in public. They needed to know enough about each other that their charade appeared to be real. And this morning it was clear they were succeeding.

If there was a little rumble in her heart about wasting her wedding, a beautiful wedding, on a fake marriage, she silenced it. She’d never imagined herself getting married. Living with her dad had scared her off that. She’d never allow herself to let her guard down with a man enough to get serious enough to get married. So this was her wedding. Her one shot at being a bride. She’d be a fool not to make it as perfect as she could.

At four o’clock that afternoon, Dom unexpectedly returned to the apartment. As they had the day before, Joshua and Sally sat on the sofa across from her. The photo arrays and designer lists were with them.

She faced the door with a smile. “I thought you had more glad-handing to do.”

He walked in and said, “I do. But I was the one who told Sally and Joshua to bring the designer lists up to you again. I wanted to make sure we were all on the same page.”

“They told me you said I wasn’t sure about the designer.” She bit her lip, not happy that something she’d told him had become an issue.