The Duchess Diaries: The Diplomat's Pregnant Bride / Her Unforgettable Royal Lover / The Texan's Royal M.D.. Merline Lovelace
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fact that the paparazzi will have a field day when they hear you knocked me up.”
“They probably will,” he replied, not quite suppressing a wince. “But when they do, you might want to use a different phrase to describe the circumstances.”
“Really? What phrase do you suggest I use, Mr. Ambassador?”
He must have seen the chasm yawning at his feet. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to come across as such a pompous jerk.”
The apology soothed Gina’s ruffled feathers enough for her to acknowledge his point. “I’m sorry, too. I know the pregnancy will cause you some embarrassment. I’ll try not to add to it.”
“The only embarrassing aspect to this whole situation is that I can’t convince the beautiful and very stubborn mother of my child to marry me.”
She wanted to believe him, but she wasn’t that naive. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment before voicing the worry that had nagged her since Switzerland.
“Tell me the truth, Jack. Is this going to impact your career?”
“No.”
“Maybe not at the State Department, but what about afterward? I read somewhere that certain powerful PACs think you have a good shot at the presidency in the not-too-distant future.”
“Gina, listen to me.” He curled a knuckle under her chin and tipped her face to make sure he had her complete attention. “We met, we were attracted to each other, we spent some time together. Since neither of us were then, or are now, otherwise committed, the only ones impacted by the result of that meeting are you, me and our baby.”
“Wow,” she breathed. “That was some speech, Mr. Ambassador. Those PACs may be right. You should make a bid for the Oval Office. You’d get my vote.”
He feathered the side of her jaw with his thumb. “I’d rather get your signature on a marriage license.”
Maybe...maybe she was being blind and pigheaded and all wrong about this marriage thing. So he didn’t love her? He wanted her, and God knew she wanted him. Couldn’t their child be the bridge to something more?
The thought made her cringe inside. What kind of mother would pile her hopes and dreams on a baby’s tiny shoulders?
“We’ve had this discussion.” Shrugging, she pulled away from his touch. “Let’s not get into it again.”
Surprise darkened his brown eyes, followed by a touch of what could have been either disappointment or irritation. Before Gina could decide which, a nurse in pink-and-blue scrubs decorated with storks delivering bundles of joy popped into the waiting room.
“Ms. St. Sebastian?”
“Right here.”
“If you’ll come with me, I’ll get your height and weight and show you to an exam room.”
Gina pushed out her chair. Jack rose with her. The nurse stopped him with a friendly smile. “Please wait here, Mr. St. Sebastian. I’ll come get you in a few minutes.”
The look on his face was more than enough to disperse Gina’s glum thoughts. Choking back a laugh, she floated after the nurse. When Jack joined her in the exam room five minutes later, she was wearing a blue paper gown tied loosely in the front and a fat grin.
“I set her straight on the names.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Come on,” she teased. “You have to admit it was funny.”
The only thing in Jack’s mind at the moment was not something he could admit. How could he have forgotten how full and lush and ripe her breasts were? Or had her pregnancy enhanced the creamy slopes he glimpsed through the front opening of her gown?
Whatever! That one glimpse was more than enough to put him in a sweat. Thoroughly disgusted, he was calling himself all kinds of a pig when the doctor walked in.
“Hello, Ms. St. Sebastian. I’m Dr. Martinson.”
Petite and gray-haired, she shook hands with her patient before turning to Jack. “And you’re Ambassador Mason, the baby’s father?”
“That’s right.”
“I read through your medical and family histories. I’m so pleased neither of you smoke, use drugs, or drink to excess. That makes my job so much easier.”
She included Jack in her approving smile before addressing Gina.
“I’m going to order lab tests to confirm your blood type and Rh status. We’ll also check for anemia, syphilis, hepatitis B and the HIV virus, as well as your immunity to rubella and chicken pox. I want you to give a urine sample, as well.”
Her down-to-earth manner put her patient instantly at ease...right up until the moment she extracted a pair of rubber gloves from a dispenser mounted on the wall.
“Let’s get the pelvic exam out of the way, then we’ll talk about what to expect in the next few weeks and months.”
She must have caught the consternation that flooded into Gina’s china blue eyes. Without missing a beat, the doc snapped on the gloves and issued a casual order.
“Why don’t you wait outside, Ambassador Mason? This will only take a few moments.”
When Jack accompanied Gina out of the medical plaza complex and into the early throes of the Thursday evening rush hour, he was feeling a little shell-shocked.
The news that he would be a father had surprised the hell out of him initially. Once he’d recovered, he’d progressed in quick order from consternation to excitement to focusing his formidable energy on hustling the mother of his child to the altar. Now, with a copy of A Father’s Guide to Pregnancy tucked in the pocket of his suit coat and the first prenatal behind him, he was beginning to appreciate both the reality and the enormity of the road ahead.
Gina, amazingly, seemed to be taking her pregnancy in stride. Like a gloriously painted butterfly, she’d gone through an almost complete metamorphosis. Not that she’d had much choice. With motherhood staring her in the face, she appeared to have shed her fun-loving, party-girl persona. The hysterical female who’d called Jack from Switzerland had also disappeared. Or maybe those personas had combined to produce this new Gina. Still bubbling with life, still gorgeous beyond words, but surprisingly responsible.
She’d listened attentively to everything the doctor said, asked obviously well-thought-out questions and made careful notes of the answers. She also worked the calendar on her iPhone with flying fingers to fit a visit to the lab for the required blood tests and future appointments with Dr. Martinson into her schedule.
In between, she fielded a series of what had sounded like frantic calls from work with assurances that yes, she’d confirmed delivery of the ice sculpture; no, their clients hadn’t requested special permission from the New York City Department of Corrections for their grandson currently serving time at Rikers to attend their fiftieth wedding anniversary celebration; and yes, she’d just left the doctor’s office and was about to jump in a cab.
Jack waited on the sidewalk beside her while she finished that last call. The sky was gray and overcast but the lack of sunshine didn’t dim the luster of her hair. The tumble of shining curls and the buttercup-yellow tunic she wore over patterned yellow-and-turquoise tights made her a beacon of bright cheer in the dismal day.
Jack stood beside her, feeling a kick to the gut as he remembered exploring the lush curves under that bright tunic. Remembering, too, the kiss they’d shared the last time he put her in a cab. He’d spent more time trying to analyze his reaction to that kiss than he wanted to admit. It was hot and heavy on his mind when Gina finished her call.
“I have to run,” she told him. “If you still