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she was open and friendly and engaging. Gina couldn’t help but smile back.

      “We do indeed.”

      “You must call me Zia. And I will call you Gina.”

      That thorny matter settled, they joined the others at the table. Gina helped herself to two slices of cinnamon toast while her grandmother gave them all a rare glimpse into the family archives.

      “Poor Archduchess Maria Amalia,” she said with a wry smile. “Married against her will to a mere duke while two of her sisters became queens. Marie Antoinette of France and Marie Caroline of Naples and Sicily.”

      Charlotte took a sip of her tea and shared another historical tidbit.

      “The three sisters were reportedly very close. They often exchanged letters and portraits and gifts. One of the last letters Marie Antoinette smuggled out of her prison was to Amalia.”

      “I’m told there’s a miniature of their mother, the Empress Marie Therese of Austria, in your Metropolitan Museum of Art,” Zia said eagerly. “It is one of the places I hope to visit while I am here.”

      “You must get Eugenia to take you. She spent many hours at the Met as a child.”

      “Oh, but I must not impose.” The brunette turned her brilliant smile on Gina. “From what your grandmother has told us, you’re very busy with your work.”

      “Actually, I’m off today. We can go this afternoon, if you like.”

      “I would! And you, Dom. You must come, too, to see this long-dead ancestor of ours.”

      His gaze met and held Gina’s. His mouth curled in a slow smile. “I’ll have to see if I can reschedule my afternoon appointment.”

      * * *

      Gina didn’t get a chance to corner her grandmother until midmorning. Zia had gone out onto the terrace to check her phone for voice messages and emails. Dominic retreated to the study to make some calls. As soon as he was out of the room, Gina pounced.

      “Okay, Grandmama, ’fess up. What’s behind this sudden spurt of hospitality to distant relatives you’ve never met.”

      “Really, Eugenia! I should hope I’m not so lacking in generosity as to let two young and very charming relations stay in a hotel when we have plenty of room here.”

      “But you don’t know anything about them.”

      “That’s what Dominic said when I extended the invitation. He tried to refuse, but I insisted.”

      “Did either of them tell you what they do for a living?”

      “Dominic does some kind of security work. Anastazia just got her MD degree from Semmelweis University in Budapest.”

      Gorgeous and smart and a doc. Another nasty little worm of jealousy poked its head up. Gina might have started feeling dumpy and fat again if Dominic hadn’t come back into the room.

      “I’m yours for the afternoon, if you’re sure you wish to...”

      He broke off and pivoted on the balls of his feet in the direction of the hall. Startled, Gina strained to hear in the sudden silence and picked up a faint buzz.

      “Oh, that’s my phone. I left it in my purse on the hall table last night. Excuse me.”

      The call had already gone to voice mail when she fished the phone out of her jam-packed bag. She saw the name on caller ID and stabbed the talk button just in time.

      “Hello, Jack.”

      “Hi, Gina. I just wanted to check and see how you’re feeling after your long odyssey last night.”

      The sound of his voice stirred the usual welter of confused emotions. Despite her abrupt departure yesterday, she couldn’t believe how much she missed him. How much she ached for him.

      “I’m good,” she said, “although I decided not to go in to work since I had the day off, anyway.”

      “So you’re going to put your feet up and rest, right?”

      “Pretty much. Although I did agree to take my cousins to the Met this afternoon.”

      “Cousins?”

      “Two of them. Dominic and his sister, Anastazia. Their parents came from Prádzec, which was once part of the Duchy of Karlenburgh.”

      “And is now in Hungary.”

      Trust an ambassador-at-large to know that. The phone to her ear, Gina wandered toward the end of the hall. Dom sat next to her grandmother’s chair and appeared to be amusing her with some anecdote.

      “Did the duchess know they were coming?” Jack asked.

      “They surprised her. Me, too! I thought Dom was a burglar when I came chest-to-chest with him last night.”

      “They were there, in the apartment when you got home?”

      “They’re staying here.”

      That was met with a short silence.

      “What did you say their names were again?”

      “Dominic and Anastazia St. Sebastian. She’s just finished med school and he does something in security. Grandmama didn’t get the specifics.”

      She caught a flash of sunlight as the terrace doors opened and Zia rejoined the group.

      “Oh, there’s Anastazia. I’d better go, Jack.”

      “Gina...”

      “Yes?”

      “About this weekend—”

      “It was just me,” she interrupted quickly. She hadn’t had time to sort through everything that had happened during their days together. And the nights! Dear God, the nights.

      “Chalk it up to hormones run amok. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

      “Okay.”

      She blew out a breath and hit the end button, but some of the emotions Jack had stirred must have shown in her face when she walked into the sitting room. She couldn’t hide them from the duchess. Her faded blue eyes locked onto to Gina’s.

      “Who was that, dearest?”

      “Jack.”

      “Hmm.”

      The odd inflection in that murmur snared the interest of both guests. They were too polite to ask, however, and the duchess left it to Gina to elaborate.

      “Jack Mason. He’s an ambassador-at-large with the U.S. State Department in Washington.”

      Dominic’s expression of casual interest didn’t change but just for a second she thought she saw something flicker in his dark eyes. Like the duchess, he must have sensed there was more to the call than she wanted to reveal.

      Oh, hell. Might as well let it all hang out.

      “He’s the father of my baby.”

      * * *

      After Gina disconnected, Jack spent several long moments staring at the slice of the Mall viewable through his office windows. Their brief conversation ricocheted around in his mind.

      Two of them. From Hungary. They surprised her. Chest-to-chest.

      He wanted to believe it was his recent showdown with the Russian Mafia thugs who’d spilled across the borders of Eastern and Central Europe that prompted him to reach for the phone. Yet he couldn’t get that chest business out of his head.

      His chief of staff answered the intercom. “What’s up, boss?”

      “I need you to run a check on a pair from Hungary. They say they’re siblings and are going by the names Dominic and Anastazia St. Sebastian.”

      Конец

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