Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom(149)

“There’s always a choice,” she retorted. Then she whirled and rushed from the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Oh, well done, Dominic,” Griffin growled. He headed after Justine.

“You should leave her alone,” Dominic said. “She needs time to calm down.”

“You can shove that idea right up your arse,” Griffin tossed over his shoulder as he strode from the room.





CHAPTER Twenty-Three



Rose took one look at Justine’s face and carefully placed Stephen in her arms. “I fed him and he’s just dropping off,” she whispered.

Justine simply nodded as she accepted the precious bundle and sank into the rocker by the cradle. Her chest and throat felt so tight she wondered that she could still breathe. As for speech, it seemed beyond her right now. Never would she have imagined that Dominic could dismiss her so abruptly, refusing to use his power to make the right choice. Even his power had limits, apparently, although a part of her refused to accept that. If the baby’s life was in danger, and she knew it was, then Dominic ought to have been willing to face down the devil himself to keep such an innocent safe.

As for her husband, he seemed as suspicious of Count Marzano as she was, but he’d done little to intervene in the outcome. Only now had it occurred to her that perhaps he didn’t want to do anything. After all, he’d never asked for a wife and he’d never given any indication he wanted children. No matter how much Justine might hope that he would, such was clearly not the case.

And that rejection, even though Griffin wouldn’t see it that way, made Justine want to take the baby and run. To hide from all the men who’d made her life so complicated and difficult.

Rose crouched by the rocker, her open face and brown eyes alive with sympathy. “Come now, love,” she whispered. “Can’t be as bad as all that. You look like the world’s coming to an end.”

Justine gazed at the baby in her arms, his thick fringe of black eyelashes fluttering down over his sleepy eyes. She didn’t want to let him go, but she could bear it if she knew he would be safe and loved.

“Actually, that’s exactly what it feels like . . . the end of the world,” she said on a choked sob.

Rose squeezed her arm but then glanced over her shoulder as the door opened behind them. When Griffin walked into the room, she hoisted herself to her feet and marched over to him, stopping him in his tracks by jabbing a finger into his chest.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” she said in a fierce whisper, “but don’t you be upsetting Miss Justine any more than she already is. And don’t you dare wake that baby.”


“I’ll thank you to keep any observations about my wife to yourself, Rose,” he retorted, also in a sharp whisper. “And if you have a particle of sense you’ll not presume to issue me orders under my own roof.”

Rose snorted. “Now, there’s a threat to have a girl shaking in her boots.” Ignoring a fuming Griffin, she smiled at Justine. “I’ll just nip down and get a cup of tea, love. I’ll be back to check on you in a bit. And you,” she muttered to Griffin, glaring at him, “behave yourself.”

He shook his head as Rose tiptoed from the room. “I must truly be losing my touch when the girls start issuing threats without a trace of trepidation.”

“You don’t seem capable of exercising much power at all, at least not in this case,” Justine said in a quiet voice. Still, she knew she’d sounded bitter.

Griffin’s dark eyes flickered with a dangerous light, giving lie to her previous comment. “Justine, that is a—”