The Duchess Diaries: The Diplomat's Pregnant Bride / Her Unforgettable Royal Lover / The Texan's Royal M.D.

“So,” he said, slanting her a curious look. “The duchess never spoke to you of me or my family?”

His speech held only a trace of an accent. A slight emphasis on different syllables that made it sound intriguing and sexy as all hell. Wondering where he’d learned to speak such excellent English, Gina shrugged.

“Grandmama told my sister and me that we had some cousins, four or five times removed.”

“At least that many times. So we could marry if we wished to, yes?”

The tea sloshed in her mug. “Excuse me?”

“We’re well outside the degree of kinship forbidden by either the church or the law. So we could marry, you and I.”

A sudden suspicion darted into Gina’s consciousness. Despite the duchess’s seeming acceptance of her granddaughter’s single-and-pregnant status, was she resorting to some Machiavellian scheming?

“Just when did my grandmother invite you and your sister to New York?”

“She didn’t. I had to come on business and since Anastazia had never been to the States, she decided to accompany me. When we phoned the duchess to arrange a visit, she invited us for tea. She was so charmed by my sister that she insisted we stay here.”

Charmed by his sister? Gina didn’t think so.

“How long will you be in New York?”

“That depends on how swiftly I conclude my business. But not, I hope, before I get a chance to know you and the duchess. I’ve heard many tales of her desperate flight after the duke’s execution.”

“She doesn’t speak of those days. I think the memories still haunt her.”

“Is that why she’s never returned to Austria, or traveled to any part of what is now Hungary?”

“I think so.”

“That’s certainly understandable, but perhaps some day she will visit and allow Anastazia and me to return her gracious hospitality. She would find everything much changed.”

“I’m sure she would.”

“You must come, too. I would enjoy showing you my country, Eugenia.”

“Gina, please. Grandmama’s the only one who calls me Eugenia, and then it’s generally because I’ve screwed up.”

“And does that happen often?”

She made a face. “Far more often than either of us would like.”

The tea and the European rhythm of Dominic’s speech had combined to bring Gina the rest of the way down from the adrenaline spike of her scare. When she reached bottom, weariness hit like a baseball bat.

Her jaw cracked on a monster yawn. She barely got a hand up in time to cover it and gave Dominic a laughing apology.

“Sorry ’bout that. It’s been a long day.”

“For me, also.” His mesmerizing onyx eyes held hers. “Shall we go to bed?”

Okay, she had to stop attaching sexual innuendo to every word that came out of the man’s mouth.

They took their mugs to the sink. Dominic rinsed them while Gina emptied the coffeemaker. He flicked off the kitchen light as they passed through the swinging door, plunging them both into temporary blindness.

Gina had grown up in this apartment and was intimately familiar with every piece of furniture a mischievous girl could crawl under or hide behind. She also knew which sharp edges to avoid, blind or not. Instinctively, she angled to the left to skirt the corner of a marble-topped table.

The move brought her into contact with Dominic’s thigh, and his hand shot out to save her from what he must have assumed was a near fall.

“Careful.”

For the second time that night he’d captured her arm. Gina wasn’t quite as quick to shake off his hold this time.

“Thanks. I assume Grandmama put Anastazia in my sister’s room and you in the study?”

“Is the study the baronial hall with the oak paneling and crown molding?” he asked dryly.

“It is.” They stopped outside the double sliding doors. “Here you go. I guess I’ll see you in the morning. Correction. Make that later in the morning.”

His fingers slid from her forearm to her elbow to her wrist. Raising her hand, he bowed and dropped a kiss on it with old-world charm right out of the movies.

“Aludj jól, Gina.”

“And that means?”

“Sleep well.”

“Aludj jól, Dominic.”

She left him standing by the sliding doors and reclaimed her suitcase. No light shone from under the door to her grandmother’s room, so Gina slipped quietly into her own. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.

* * *

She woke mere hours later. Grunting at what felt like a bowling ball resting atop her bladder, she rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

When she snuggled between the sheets again, sleep didn’t descend as swiftly. And when it did, it brought confusing dreams of a shadowy figure whose hair morphed from black to gold to black again.

* * *

Since Samuel wasn’t expecting her back from Washington for another day, possibly two, Gina didn’t feel compelled to go in to the office the next morning. Good thing, because she didn’t wake up a second time until almost nine.

She took her time in the shower, wondering if she’d dreamed that kitchen encounter last night. It was so surreal, and so unlike her grandmother to invite complete strangers to stay in their home. Maybe she was more tied to the land of her birth than she let on.

Gina followed the scent of coffee and cinnamon toast to the kitchen, where Maria was turning fresh toast onto a plate.

“There you are. Dominic told us, la duquesa and me, that you came in late last night.”

“I just about jumped out of my skin when I came in last night and bumped into him.” Dying for a cup of coffee, Gina poured a glass of apple juice instead. “I’m surprised Grandmama invited him and his sister to stay here.”

“Me, as well. But they are very nice and have made your grandmother smile. You will see,” Maria said, flipping the last of the toast onto the platter.