Pregnant with a Royal Baby! (17 page)

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

D
OMINIC
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.

But at seven, she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. She picked up the house phone and dialed her mom’s extension. “I think I’m in labor.”

“Oh, no! Ginny, sweetie...this is too early.”

Her stomach contracted again and she doubled over with pain. “All right. I no longer
think
I’m in labor. I know I am.”

“Did they tell you what to do?”

“I have to call the doctor, but—” She doubled over again. “Oh, my God, this hurts.”

“That’d be labor. Okay. I’m coming over. I’ll call Sally who will tell Dom.”

“He’s in the war room. We’re at war.”

Her mom was quiet for a few seconds, then she said, “Didn’t know if you’d been told, but, yes. I saw the news this morning. We’re at war.”

“I don’t even know if Dom can come out for this.”

“Oh, dear Lord, of course, he can. You just go get some clothes on so security can get you to the hospital. I will take care of calling Sally who will get Dom to the hospital.”

Ginny did as she was told. The week before she’d been advised by her birthing coach to pack a bag for the hospital “just in case.” So after sliding into maternity jeans and a sweater, she lugged the bag from Dom’s room to the sitting area.

Then pain roared through her stomach and she fell to the sofa. She tried to breathe, but the fear that gripped her kept her from being able to focus. Her new country was at war and she was in labor. Four weeks too early. She didn’t even want to contemplate that her baby might not be ready, but how could she not?

When she was almost at the point of hyperventilation, her door swung open and her mom raced in. “I talked to Sally, who said she will talk to the king. She said not to worry. She’ll take care of everything.”

She rose from the sofa, the pain so intense, tears speared her eyes again. “Good.”

The doors opened again and Dom’s top security team ran in.

“Ma’am? Can you walk?”

She caught her mother’s hand. “Oh, jeez. Now I’m ma’am.”

Her mother led her to the door. “That’s right, sweetie. Keep your sense of humor.”

Her labor lasted twelve long hours. Every twenty minutes she asked where Dom was. Every twenty-one minutes her mother would say, “He’s been told you’re in labor. He’ll be here any minute.”

She gave birth to a healthy, albeit tiny, baby boy. The happy, smiling doctor, a man who’d clearly gotten sufficient sleep the night before, joyfully said, “Can you tell me his name?”

She blinked tiredly. “For the birth certificate?”

He laughed. “No, just because I’m curious.”

She swallowed. “We didn’t really pick a name yet.” But she remembered James Tiberius Kirk. There were some times Dom could be so much fun, so loving, that she
knew
this war had to be god-awful to keep him away from his son’s birth.

The doctor placed her little boy, her little king, in her arms, and the tears that fell this time were happy tears. “Look at him, Mom.” But she wished she was saying that to Dom. She should be saying, “Look at your son.”

But they were at war. And he was needed.

Still, the sting of giving birth to their child alone caused tears to prick her eyelids.

“He’s beautiful.” Her mom kissed her cheek. “But you’re tired.”

“Have you heard from Sally?”

“Not a peep.”

“Okay.”

The doctor walked to the head of her bed. “The nurses need to take your son to be cleaned up and examined. You can have him back in an hour or so.”

“You’re taking him?” She hadn’t been told this protocol, but it just didn’t seem right to hand over the future king to people who were essentially strangers.

The doctor laughed and pointed outside the delivery room doors where her security detail stood guard. “Don’t worry. He’s already been assigned security. He might be leaving your sight but he won’t be leaving the royal family’s sight.”

Her mom took the future king from her arms. “Why don’t you go to sleep, honey?”

She said, “Okay,” and felt herself drifting off as her mom handed her little boy to the doctor.

When she woke forty minutes later, she took off the ugly hospital gown they’d insisted she give birth in, and with her mom’s help put on a pretty nightgown. She prayed Xaviera’s war didn’t last long, and also knew that when he could Dom would slip out and see his son. She wanted him to see she’d done okay. That she was fine. She was being the stiff-upper-lip princess she needed to be in this difficult time.

Nurses brought her baby back almost exactly an hour after he’d been taken away. The royal pediatrician came in and told her that her son was in good health, but he was small, so a few precautions would be taken.

The pediatrician returned the next morning and gave her the same report. She squeezed her hands together nervously. With her mom there, security outside her door and very attentive nurses, she shouldn’t feel alone, but she did. They wouldn’t let her see a newspaper so she knew whatever was going on had to be terrible.

She wondered how safe the war room was—how safe the palace was? The sheikh had barrels of money, and money bought weapons and soldiers. She knew very little about Xaviera’s army and worried that Dom would have to bomb his own ports.

The next day she noticed security outside her room had been doubled. That’s when it dawned on her that she hadn’t seen any press. When she got out of bed and looked out her window, the world looked calm. Peaceful. Knowing that everybody in the kingdom was waiting for this baby, it seemed odd that the press wasn’t climbing the walls, trying to get pictures.

She asked her mom about it when she arrived for a visit and her mom said the baby’s birth hadn’t been announced.

She gave Ginny a weak smile. “If anyone knew he’d already been born, he would be a target. The king told Sally he believes it’s for the best that this news not yet hit the press.”

She swallowed, but her fears mounted. “So things are bad?”

“Actually, things aren’t bad at all. The way I understand it, the whole mess involves one port and some hostages. Which is why Sally thinks the king believes it’s so important that we protect the baby. He would be the kind of leverage the sheikh needs to get himself out of this mess.”

“So it’s a standoff?”

“According to Sally, it’s hours of drinking coffee and waiting.”

Incredulous, Ginny gaped at her mom. “They’re waiting, but Dom hasn’t been able to get away to see me...to see
his son
?”

“Honey, I wasn’t supposed to tell you any of this, but I could tell you were worried and it’s not right for you to worry.”

She fell back on her bed. “No. It’s better for me to feel like a complete idiot.”

Her mom fluffed her pillow. “You’re not an idiot. Anybody would have worried.”

“That’s not the part that makes me feel like an idiot. I’ve been sitting here for three days, waiting for my husband, who apparently doesn’t care to show up.”

“He’s dedicated.”

“So is the king, but he’s talked to Sally, who’s gotten messages to you.”

“Have you checked your cell phone? Maybe he’s tried to call?”

She gasped. “I never thought to take it. I was in so much pain I just left the apartment.”

Her mom pulled out her phone. “I’ll call security and have someone bring it over.”

That brightened her spirits for about an hour. But when the cell phone arrived and there were no calls, they sank like a rock.

“How could he not care?”

Rose busily, nervously, tucked the covers around her. “I’m sure he cares.”

“No, Mom. He doesn’t.” And it took something this extreme to finally, finally get that through Ginny’s head. Her husband did not love her. He probably didn’t really love their child. He most certainly wasn’t curious about their child, who had been born early and who could have had complications.

But a war came first—

Didn’t it?

Not when the war wasn’t really a war. When there were stretches of time and waiting. When her husband wasn’t even king yet. When there was a king who should be doing the decision making but he had time to call one of his staff—not even a family member.

She got out of bed. “Help me pack my bag.”

“Ginny, you can’t go home yet! You just had a baby.”

“My friend, Ellen, had a difficult birth and was home in forty-eight hours.”

“But the baby—”

“Is fine. You heard the pediatrician this morning. He’s gained the two ounces he needed to put him over five pounds.” She grabbed her suitcase and tossed it to the bed. “If he’d been full-term he probably would have weighed eight pounds.”

Her mom put her hand over Ginny’s to stop her from opening her suitcase. “You cannot leave.”

“The hell I can’t. And let them try to stop me from taking my own child.” She motioned around the room. “As long as I take the thirty bodyguards, I’m fine.”

Rose grabbed her cell phone and hit a speed-dial number.

Ginny snatched her phone out of her mother’s hands and disconnected it. “What are you doing? Tattling on me to Sally?”

“Ginny, you can’t just leave.”

“Mom, this isn’t about Xaviera or my baby someday being a king. This is about me knowing that if I don’t get out of this country with my baby, I’m going to be stuck here forever with a guy who doesn’t love me and a king who thinks he’s God.” She tossed her mom’s cell phone to the bed and took her hands. “I have a baby to protect. I’ll be damned if my child will grow up to be a man so stuck to his duties that he can’t even see his own babies born or love his wife.”

She took a long breath and stared at her suitcase. “To hell with this junk! I didn’t want these clothes in the first place.”

She poked her head out the door and motioned for the two bodyguards to come inside. “I want a helicopter on the roof of this hospital in five minutes. Then I want flown to the nearest safe airport and one of the royal jets waiting for me there.” She sucked in a breath. “I’m going home.”

* * *

The buzz of the king’s cell phone had all heads in the war room turning in his direction. Cell phones had been banned. Too many opportunities for picture taking, voice recordings and just plain dissemination of their plans. In fact, no one but the king had left these quarters.

They slept on cots in a barracks-like room, ate food that was made in the attached kitchen and hadn’t had contact with the outside world except through the video feed they stared at.

He missed Ginny. More to the point, he
worried
about Ginny. Something had been wrong the night they came here and he just wanted to fix it. But he knew he couldn’t, so maybe it was better that he spend three days cut off from her so he didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep.

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