Pregnant!: Prince and Future...Dad? / Expecting! / Millionaire Cop & Mum-To-Be

And besides, wasn’t it something she’d have to get used to—reporters trailing her, asking questions, taking pictures? She planned, after all, a very public kind of life for herself.

‘‘Lookin’ good, there, Liv.’’ It was one of the file clerks, peering over her shoulder.

Liv only smiled. ‘‘Hey, thanks, Orinda.’’

In his office room, Finn picked up the phone. ‘‘Your Majesty. I trust you are well.’’

‘‘I didn’t call to speak of my health. My sources tell me you’re with my daughter constantly.’’

Finn turned in his swivel chair and looked out the window at a lush-leaved oak in his hostess’s backyard. ‘‘Your sources have it right.’’

There was a silence. Then the king prompted, ‘‘Well?’’

‘‘My lord, progress is slower than I would wish.’’

‘‘I’m told you always leave her house well before morning light.’’

‘‘Your men are most impressively observant.’’

‘‘Take her to bed. A woman is always more easily led after thorough pleasuring.’’

‘‘Excellent advice, my lord.’’

‘‘Have you taken her to bed as of yet?’’

‘‘Your Majesty, we wouldn’t be in this predicament had I not.’’

‘‘Don’t toy with me, Finn.’’

‘‘My liege, there are some things a man hesitates to discuss, even with his king.’’

Again the line was silent, except for the faint crackle of static. Finally the king said, ‘‘Perhaps you have a point.’’

‘‘Thank you, Your Majesty.’’

‘‘I want to know immediately when she says yes.’’

‘‘And you shall.’’

‘‘And Finn?’’

‘‘Yes, Your Majesty?’’

‘‘Remember the words of Odin himself. ‘The hearts of women were fashioned on a spinning wheel.’ Those of the fairer sex are by nature capricious. Don’t allow her forever to make up her mind. She will take eternity—and then demand another day.’’

‘‘Marry me,’’ Finn said that night. They were sitting in the porch swing. Swaying. Kissing.

‘‘Oh, Finn.’’

He captured her chin. ‘‘Tell me that means yes.’’

She wrapped her hand around his wrist and held on. They stared at each other as the crickets sang and a siren started low in the distance, the sound swelling until it passed a few blocks away and then fading off into the summer night.

He asked, ‘‘When you know you’re pregnant, will you marry me then?’’

‘‘I…don’t know.’’

He let go. For a moment, she thought he was angry. And then, very slowly, he smiled. ‘‘A week ago, you would have said absolutely not.’’

He was right. But that didn’t mean she could ever, realistically, say yes. She knew that the future she planned for herself could still be made to happen, even if she was pregnant and had her baby without benefit of marriage. Single motherhood, in America, was becoming, more and more, an acceptable way to raise children. In a decade or two, she felt certain, single mothers would be running for Congress.

But there was no way she’d ever realize her ambitions if she married Finn and moved to Gullandria.

She whispered, ‘‘One thing I do know…’’

He grabbed her hand and laid it flat against his hard chest. ‘‘How do you say it? Hit me with it. Right here.’’

‘‘Well, I just can’t see…how it can work. No matter what happens, I’m not running off to live in your castle in Gullandria. I’m staying here. I’m finishing law school. I’m—’’

He put his finger to her lips again, signaling for silence. ‘‘I think ‘I don’t know’ is enough for tonight.’’

The next night, he showed up at her door with a home pregnancy test kit tucked under one arm, the instruction sheet open in his hands. ‘‘Look, my love. It says here, ‘Ninety-nine percent effective one day after—’’’

She took his arm, dragged him inside and firmly shut the door. ‘‘Where did you get that?’’

‘‘Albertson’s Food and Drug, it was called. The pharmacy section. The clerks there were marvelously helpful.’’

‘‘I’ll bet.’’ People—especially female people—fell all over themselves when Finn needed aid.

‘‘You didn’t let me finish. It says, ‘Ninety-nine percent effective one day after a missed menstrual period.’’’

‘‘Oh, that’s so lovely to know.’’

He sent her a fond smile. ‘‘And when would that be—for you?’’

She wondered why she felt so resentful. It was a perfectly reasonable question, given the situation.

‘‘Liv?’’

‘‘What?’’ It came out sounding much too hostile.

He folded up the instruction sheet and set it and the kit on the entry hall table. Then he turned back to her and waited, arms crossed over that broad chest, feet planted wide apart, as if taking a stand in a strong wind.

After a stubborn twenty seconds or so, she muttered, ‘‘I’d have to look at my calendar.’’

‘‘And where is your calendar?’’

She knew by the expression on his face that there was no way to get out of this gracefully. She also knew there was no real reason she should want to get out of it. Whether or not she was actually pregnant was the main question, after all.