The Diplomat's Pregnant Bride. Merline Lovelace

      Then, of course, there was the sex.

      Jack kept his expression politely attentive. His diplomatic training and years of field experience wouldn’t allow him to do otherwise. Yet every muscle in his body went taut as all-too-vivid images from his weekend with Gina once again grabbed him.

      He hadn’t been a saint since his wife died, but neither had he tomcatted around. Five women in six years didn’t exactly constitute a world record. Yet the hours he’d spent in that Beverly Hills penthouse suite with Gina St. Sebastian made him come alive in ways he hadn’t felt since...

      Since Catherine.

      Shaking off the twinge of guilt that thought brought, Jack addressed the woman just coming out of her reverie of presidents and pearls.

      “Please believe me, Duchess. I want very much to do right by both your granddaughter and our child.”

      Those shrewd, pale eyes measured him for long, uncomfortable moments. Jack had faced cold-blooded dictators whose stares didn’t slice anywhere as close to the bone as this white-haired, seemingly frail woman’s did.

      “You may as well call me Charlotte,” she said finally. “I suspect we may be seeing a good deal of each other in the weeks ahead.”

      “I suspect we may.”

      “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must help Sarah prepare to depart for her honeymoon.”

      Two

      After Sarah changed and left for the airport with Dev, Gina escorted her grandmother and Maria down to the limo she’d ordered for them.

      “I’ll be a while,” she warned as the elevator opened onto the Plaza’s elegant lobby. “I want to make sure Dev’s family is set for their trip home tomorrow.”

      “I should think that clever, clever man Dev employs as his executive assistant has the family’s travel arrangements well in hand.”

      “He does. He’s also going to take care of shipping the wedding gifts back to L.A., thank goodness. But I need to verify the final head count and see he has a complete list of the bills to expect.”

      The duchess stiffened, and Gina gave herself a swift mental kick. Dang it! She shouldn’t have mentioned those bills. As she and Sarah knew all too well, covering the cost of the wedding had come dangerously close to a major point of contention between Dev and the duchess. Charlotte had insisted on taking care of the expenses traditionally paid by the bride’s family. It was a real tribute to Dev’s negotiating skills that he and Grandmama had reached an agreement that didn’t totally destroy her pride.

      And now Gina had to bring up the sensitive subject again! It was Jack’s fault, she thought in disgust. Their confrontation had thrown her off stride. Was still throwing her off. Why the heck had she agreed to meet him for lunch tomorrow?

      She was still trying to figure that one out when the limo pulled up to the Plaza’s stately front entrance. The driver got out to open the door but before his two passengers slid into the backseat, the duchess issued a stern warning.

      “Don’t overtax yourself, Eugenia. Pregnancy saps a woman’s strength, especially during the first few months. You’ll find you’re more fatigued than usual.”

      “Fatigue hasn’t been a problem yet. Or morning sickness, knock on...”

      She glanced around for some wood to rap. She settled for wiggling a branch of one of the massive topiary trees guarding the front entrance.

      “My breasts are swollen up like water balloons, though. And my nipples ache like you wouldn’t believe.” Grimacing, she rolled her shoulders to ease the constriction of her tight bodice. “They want out of this gown.”

      “For pity’s sake, Eugenia!” The duchess shot a glance at the stony-faced limo driver. “Let’s continue this discussion tomorrow, shall we?”

      Nodding, Gina bent to kiss her grandmother’s cheek and breathed in the faint, oh-so-familiar scent of lavender and lace. “Make sure you take your medicine before you go to bed.”

      “I’m not senile, young lady. I think I can manage to remember to take two little pills.”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      Trying to look properly chastised, she helped the duchess into the limo and turned to the Honduran native who’d become a second mother to her and Sarah. “You’ll stay with her, Maria? I shouldn’t be more than another hour or two. I’ll have a car take you home.”

      “Take as long as you need. La duquesa and I, we’ll put our feet up and talk about what a fine job you did organizing such a beautiful wedding.”

      “It did come off well, didn’t it?”

      Maria beamed a wide smile. “Sí, chica, it did.”

      Buoyed by the compliment, Gina returned to the reception room. Most of the guests had departed. Including, she saw after a quick sweep, a certain obnoxious ambassador who’d shown up unexpectedly. She should have had him escorted out when he first walked in. Being summarily ejected from the wedding would have put a dent in the man’s ego. Or maybe not. For a career diplomat, he seemed as impervious to Gina’s snubs as to her adamant refusal to marry him.

      He didn’t understand why she wouldn’t even consider it for their baby’s sake. Neither did the duchess. Although Grandmama and Sarah both supported Gina’s decision to go it alone, she knew they wondered at her vehemence. On the surface, John Harris Mason III certainly made excellent husband material. He was rich, handsome and charming as the devil when he wanted to be.

      It was what lurked below the surface that held Gina back. Every story, every bio printed about the charismatic diplomat, hinted that Jack had buried his heart with the young wife he’d first dated in high school and married the day they both graduated from Harvard. From all reports, Catherine Mason had been every bit as smart, athletic and politically involved as her husband.

      Gina knew in her heart she couldn’t compete with the ghost of his lost love. Not because she lacked her own set of credentials. The Duchy of Karlenburgh might now be little more than an obscure footnote in history books, but Grandmama could still hold her own with presidents and kings. What’s more, she’d insisted her granddaughters be educated in accordance with their heritage. Gina had actually graduated from Barnard with a semi-decent grade point average. She’d pretty much majored in partying, though, and to this day had zero interest in politics.

      She might have cultivated an interest for Jack. Had actually toyed with the idea during that crazy weekend. For all her seemingly casual approach to life and love, she’d never met anyone as fascinating and entertaining and just plain hot as Jack Mason.

      Any thoughts of fitting into the mold of a diplomat’s wife went poof when Gina discovered she was pregnant. There was no way she could dive into politics and marriage and motherhood at the same time. She already felt as though she were on an emotional roller coaster. All she could think about right now, all she would allow herself to think about, was proving she could take care of herself and her baby.

      “You put on a helluva party, lady.”

      Smiling, she turned to Dev’s gravel-voiced buddy from his air force days. Patrick Donovan now served as Dev’s executive assistant and pretty much ruled his vast empire with an iron fist.

      “Thanks, Pat.”

      Tall and lanky and looking completely at home in his Armani tux, Donovan winked at her. “You decide you want to come back to L.A., you let me know. We could use someone with your organizational skills in our protocol office. Seems like we’re hosting some bigwig industrialists from China or Germany or Australia every other week.”

      “I appreciate the offer but I’m going to try to break into the event-planning business here in New York. Plus, I’m thinking about moving in with Grandmama for the next eight months or so.”

      If