Her heart kicked against her ribs. A flash of memories flooded her brain. Kissing in the limo. Laughing at stupid things. Not a care in the world. And for one foolish second, she wished they could be those two people again. Two people just having fun. Not making a commitment—
She quickly looked away. Things like that, staring into his fathomless eyes, longing for a chance just to enjoy each other, would get her into trouble.
She faced the reporters. “So I won’t faint again.” She winced. “That is if I listen to Dom and actually eat breakfast and lunch.”
A quiet chuckle went up from the group as they scribbled in notebooks.
The questions started again.
“What about your job?”
“Will you miss working?”
“What was it like growing up with an alcoholic dad?”
“Did you spin daydreams as a little girl that you’d someday marry a prince?”
The room suddenly got hot. She hadn’t expected her dad’s life to escape scrutiny. She simply hadn’t expected it to come up so soon.
She pushed her hair off her face, buying time, hoping to cool her forehead a bit before sweat began to bead on it. “I love my job.” She answered the first and second questions together since they were easy, as she dreadfully scrambled in her head to think of how to answer the third. “If it were possible to be a princess and be a guidance counselor, I’d do both. As it is, my duty lies with Xaviera and our baby.” She laughed. “My mom reminded me that even if my baby wasn’t a future king, he’d still take up all my time and shift my priorities.”
Before she could deal with question three, two other reporters raised their hands and called out, “So you’ve spoken to your mom and have her blessing?” and “Where is your mom?”
“My mom is finishing out her semester,” she said, then suddenly wished her mom didn’t have to work. Being alone in a strange country, in a white-hot spotlight with a guy she’d liked a lot was making her crazy. She had to remember he wasn’t fun-loving Dom. He was Prince Dominic. And this marriage wasn’t real. Hell, this whole situation was barely real.
“She has a few more weeks of school, but she’ll be here for the wedding.”
“I’m still waiting for an answer about your childhood with an alcoholic father.”
The sweat arrived, beading on her forehead. A hot, dizzying wave passed through her, weakening her knees, just as it had two seconds before she’d fainted the day before.
“My father was sick,” she said quietly, praying her legs would continue to hold her. “He also died when I was eighteen. I barely remember that part of my life.” That wasn’t really a lie, more of an exaggeration. She didn’t want to remember, so she spent her days refusing to even think about those years.
“As for whether or not I spun fantasies about marrying a prince.” She smiled. “I hadn’t. I was a very pragmatic child, enamored with my mom’s love of her classes and students. But I’m glad I met Dominic.”
Again, not a lie. She was glad she had met him. She’d loved their night out. It was being in cahoots with him, putting so much of her life into another person’s hands, that caused fear to course through her. Especially after the mention of her dad. After being reminded that trusting the wrong person could suck the life out of your soul, reduce you to someone who suspiciously weighed every word and soon didn’t trust anyone. Someone who protected herself by staying in her room, alone and lonely.
She did not want that to be her life again.
This time when she turned to smile at Dominic, she knew her eyes were dull and listless.
She wasn’t surprised when he said, “And that’s all for this morning. Our press office has issued a release with all relevant information.”
He led her off the podium and then out of the room, behind the king, who turned to her with a satisfied look. “You lasted much longer than I predicted.”
She winced. “Thank you, I think.”
“Well, it’s a compliment to an extent. I’m still not sure I trust your fashion sense. And I’m not at all pleased that you didn’t warn us about your dad.”
Her stomach churned. She’d buried her dad seven years ago, but here she was hiding him again, protecting him again— “I...”
Dominic stepped up. “I knew about her dad. My security detail investigated everything.” He caught Ginny’s gaze. “I admit we glossed over his alcoholism because he’s been dead for seven years. But no one kept it a secret.”
She swallowed. Every time she looked in his eyes, she had no question about why he’d so easily been able to seduce her. But every time he talked he reminded her that she didn’t belong here in his life, and how difficult the next years would be. “I guess you did that while we were waiting for the paternity results.”
“Actually, we investigated you when we were told you would be my liaison at the school.” He faced the king. “And you have a full report on Ginny’s life in your office. Her father is in there.”
King Ronaldo said, “I don’t know how I missed it.”
“You missed it because he’s barely a footnote. He was never arrested. Never in the papers. Never anything. And now he’s gone. Ginny and I talked about this a bit yesterday and the end result was I decided there’s no real reason to put her through the memories by insisting she give us details.”
He smiled slightly at her.
She tried to smile back. But an odd feeling tumbled through her. Not quite a nudge that she should trust him, the feeling told her at the very least she should appreciate the way he’d saved her from having to relive a part of her life that was gone. Past. She shouldn’t have to explain it.
Sally said, “Yes, well, Prince Dominic, you should have bought this to your father’s attention instead of expecting him to find it in a report.”
Dom faced Sally, who stood with her arms crossed, clearly unhappy with him. He said, “I’ll remember next time,” but when he turned to Ginny he winked.
The weird feeling tumbled through her again.
Sally lifted her clipboard. “Okay, Ms. Jones, you have a few people coming to the apartment for lessons today. Mostly protocols and etiquettes. At four, the clothier and I will be bringing catalogs of various designers’ work so you can begin the process of screening designers for your dress.” She flipped a page. “Dom, I believe you’re due in parliament this afternoon.”
Dominic caught Ginny’s hand. “Then I guess we better get back to the apartment and arrange for lunch.”
Sally said, “Fine—”
But Dominic didn’t wait for the rest of her answer. He turned and walked away, leading Ginny down several halls. He walked so fast, she had to skip to keep up with him in her high, high heels, but the air that whooshed past them was cool, and she suddenly felt like laughing. Not only had they survived the press, but Dominic had taken her side—again.
When the elevator door closed behind them, Ginny said, “That was awesome.”
“What? You liked being interviewed by reporters?”
She batted a hand. “I could take that or leave that. What I loved was you walking away from Sally.”
Dom spared her a glance, then he grinned. “She’s protocol office so she basically runs everything. It’s fun every once