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

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      The thought of a private investigator talking to her friends, asking questions, dropping insinuations, fired twin bolts of anger and mortification. Gina’s chin came up another inch. Her eyes flashed dangerously.

      “Why go to the expense of a private investigator? A simple DNA test would have been much cheaper.”

      “You were in that clinic in Switzerland. Jack flew over right after you called him. I told him to insist on a paternity test, but...” He broke off, grimacing. “Well, no need to go into all that now. What I want to say is I accept that you’re carrying my grandchild.”

      “How very magnanimous of you.”

      The icy response took him aback. He looked as though he wanted to say more, but the sound of footsteps stilled him. Both Jack and his mother sensed the tension instantly. Ellen sighed and shook her head. Her son demanded an explanation.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “Nothing,” Gina said before his father could respond. “Nothing at all. Thank you for a lovely lunch, Ellen.”

      She kissed the older woman’s cheek before offering a cool glance and a lukewarm handshake to Jack’s father.

      “Perhaps I’ll see you again.”

      He stiffened, correctly interpreting the threat buried in that polite “perhaps.”

      “I certainly hope so.”

      * * *

      “All right,” Jack said as the Range Rover cut through the tunnel of oaks shading the drive. “What was that all about?”

      Gina wanted to be cool about it, wanted to take the high road and shrug off the investigation as inconsequential, but her roiling emotions got the better of her. She slewed around as much as the seat belt would allow. Anger, hurt and suspicion put a razor’s edge in her words.

      “Did you know your father hired a P.I. to investigate me?”

      “Yes, I...”

      “With or without your approval?”

      “Christ, Gina.” His glance sliced into her. “What do you think?”

      She was still angry, still hurt, but somewhat mollified by his indignation. Slumping against the seat back, she crossed her arms. “Your father’s a piece of work, Ambassador.”

      Which was true, but probably not the smartest comment to make. Jack could criticize his father. He wouldn’t appreciate an outsider doing so, however, any more than Gina would tolerate someone making a snide comment about the duchess. The tight line to Jack’s jaw underscored that point.

      “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

      He accepted the apology with a curt nod and offered one of his own. “I’m sorry, too. I should have told you about the investigation. The truth is I didn’t know about it until after we got back from Switzerland and then it just didn’t matter.”

      Her anger dissipated, leaving only an urgent question. “Why not, Jack? Didn’t you...? Don’t you have any doubts?”

      “No. Not one.” The rigid set to his shoulders eased. His reply was quiet and carried the ring of absolute truth. “We may disagree on a number of important issues, marriage included, but we’ve always been honest with each other.”

      Her eyes start to burn. She refused to cry, she flatly refused, but she suddenly felt miserable and weary beyond words. “Look,” she said tiredly, “this has been a busy few days. I may have overdone it a bit. I think...I think I’d better fly back to New York this evening.”

      He knifed her a quick look. “Is it the baby?”

      “No! The baby’s fine.”

      “Then it’s my father.” Another sharp glance. “Or is it us?”

      “Mostly us.” She forced a smile. “You have to admit we didn’t get much sleep the past two nights. I need to go home and rack out.”

      “Is that what you really want?”

      “It’s what I really want.”

      * * *

      The drive back to D.C. took considerably less time than the drive down to Richmond. No cutting off to ramble along Route 1. No stops at picturesque cafés. Jack stuck to the interstate, and Gina used the time to check airline schedules. She confirmed a seat on a 7:20 p.m. flight to New York. It was a tight fit, but she could make it if she threw her things in her weekender and went straight to the airport.

      “You don’t have to wait,” she told Jack as he pulled into the parking garage at L’Enfant Plaza. “I can grab a cab.”

      “I’ll drive you.”

      She was in and out of TTG’s guest suite in less than twenty minutes. A quick call ensured the cleaning crew would come in the following day. The key cards she sealed in an envelope and slid under the door to the main office. Elaine Patterson, manager of the Washington venue, was due back tomorrow. Gina would coordinate the after-event report with her and tie up any other loose ends by email.

      Her emotions were flip-flopping all over the place again when Jack pulled up at the airport terminal. Part of her insisted she was doing the right thing. That she needed to pull back, assess the damage to her heart done by the nights she’d spent in his arms. The rest of her ached for another night. Or two. Or three.

      If Jack were experiencing the same disquiet, it didn’t show. He left the Range Rover in idle and came around to lift out her weekender. His expression was calm, his hand steady as he buried it in her hair and tilted her face to his.

      “Call me when you get home.”

      “I will.”

      “And get some rest.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “I’ll see you at our next doctor’s appointment, if not before.”

      Before would be good, she thought as she closed her eyes for his kiss. Before would be very good.

      * * *

      When she climbed out of a cab outside the Dakota almost seven hours later, her ass was well and truly dragging. Her flight had been delayed due to mechanical problems before being canceled completely. The passengers had sat for well over an hour on the plane before being shuffled off and onto another. She’d called Jack once she was aboard the alternate aircraft so he wouldn’t worry, and again when she landed at LaGuardia.

      Since they’d touched down at almost midnight, she didn’t call her grandmother. The duchess would have gone to bed hours ago and Gina didn’t want to wake her. Feeling dopey with exhaustion, she took a cab into the city. Jerome wasn’t on duty and she didn’t know the new night doorman except to nod and say hello. Wheeling her suitcase to the elevator, she slumped against the mirrored wall as it whisked her upward.

      The delicate scent of orange blossoms telegraphed СКАЧАТЬ