My morning before my date with Henry is pretty much back-to-back with running errands and getting ready for my move to Dubreva.

I call my parents first thing and tell them about my plans to move here. They took it…badly…considering that their only grandchild is going to be born and grow up on a different continent.

But, like good parents, they understand that I need to do this for my career. I still haven’t told them who’s the father of their grandchild, but like the pseudo-hippies they are, they know not to ask.

They are simply wonderfully supportive.

“You always knew what was best for you, Cat,” my mom tells me, her voice warm, even though I can hear her disappointment in my decision. “And if this is right, then you should do it.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, Cat, for what?”

I swallow back the lump in my throat. “For everything. For adopting me, for giving me the best possible start. For helping me follow my dreams. For everything. I hope I’ll be as good a mother as you have been.”

There’s a long pause on the phone and I hear Mom’s short hiccup. “Oh, Kitty Cat,” she says, using my childhood nickname. I haven’t heard it in years, but there it is. “You were so easy to love, it was everything we could do to give you the best life.”

I wipe away my tears. Damn pregnancy hormones. At least that’s what I blame for my crying.

We stay on the phone for a little longer, talking about future plans and the business that Jessica is trying to build. Mom doesn’t quite follow what she’s trying to do, as to her, a newspaper is a newspaper, but she’s supportive even in that.

My phone chimes and I glance at it. David has sent through some work for me to do. When I had called in sick. Granted, I’m lying so I can be here right now, but sending through—I scroll through my emails—hours’ worth of work?

What an asshole. I made the right decision. I need to let him know that I’m quitting, but that’s a conversation I don’t want to have right now. I can only imagine David’s face turning purple as he yells at me.

I grimace at the thought. I’m not doing all that work, especially when I’m quitting.

The emails are a reminder that I need to get going with the rest of my day, though.

“Hey Mom, I love you, but I have to go.”

“All right,” she says, cheery again. “Let us know your moving dates, and we’ll help you with the cross-Atlantic move. You have no idea how much stuff you have until you move it. And,” she adds, “I think your father and I will go on a Mediterranean cruise while we’re there.”

I laugh out loud. “Okay, that sounds good.”

“Love you, baby.”

“Love you, too.”

I hang up, close my eyes and take a deep breath before I roll off the bed. I’m going to go ahead and shower and get ready before I decide what to do with David’s laundry list. Probably tell him to fuck off since I already have another job lined up, although there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to let him down.

I’ll deal with him later.

I want to make sure that I’m ready for my lunch date with Henry.

Even thinking about him, I get giddy.

I head into the bathroom, turn on the water and let it steam up as I look at my naked body in the mirror. I know that it’s early days for my pregnancy and not noticeable to anyone else but me, but I can see a little bump already developing. How big am I going to get?

I turn to the side and the bump is even more noticeable to me here. I shiver and try to suck it in.

That’s definitely where the baby is. Even though I know that’s how pregnancy works, I still can’t help but marvel over what’s happening to my body. I cup my hand underneath the bulge, trying to hold the weight in my hand.

It’s all going to be all right.

I shower with the heat turned down a little more than I would normally—I read somewhere that you don’t want the shower too hot when you’re pregnant, and I always liked them close to boiling. I wash my hair and shave my legs—because regardless of what Henry says, I’m going to have sex with him tonight, after I tell him the news that I’m staying—and I’m drying my hair when I hear the knock at the door.

I frown, glancing at the clock. It’s nearly eleven thirty in the morning, too early for Henry to be here. Unless, he wants to show up early, in which case, I’m ready and raring for him to take me for a ride.

But who else could it be?

I wrap one of the hotel velvety plush robes around my body as I pad over to the door and I open it.

And standing there is Dominic with a bouquet of flowers.

He looks more casual than I’ve ever seen him before, with a white linen shirt and a nice pair of slacks. The scent of the tulips in the bouquet wafts up to my nose, nearly assaulting me, making my stomach turn

“Dominic,” I whisper, “what are you doing here?” I look around. “How did you find me?”

He watches me earnestly, putting the bouquet out in front of him. “I know you’re here on vacation, but I wanted to surprise you. And,” he adds, licking his lips, “to see if I can win you back.”

I stare at him, aghast, not really sure what to tell him or how to get him out of my hotel room. I’d spent the entire morning planning for a life without him because I broke up with him, and he’s here with a grand gesture.

And I have less than an hour before my date with Henry.

“Excuse me,” I mutter, turning away from him, as I run to the bathroom where I throw up breakfast.

Morning sickness. Because I’m already sick of this morning.

* * *

Dominic knocks on the door while I puke up my guts. “Hey, you okay?”

“Oh,” I mutter, sitting back on my haunches. “Peachy keen.”

I force myself to swallow, and I don’t feel the bile rise in my throat again. “What are you doing here?” I ask again.

“I told you, I came to win you back,” he says, his voice matching his confused frown. “Although you don’t seem that happy.”

No, I’m not.

“But I broke up with you.” I comb a hand through my hair.

“And I thought you were worth fighting for. Because I don’t know why you did it, Cat. Unless you’re planning on doing something that you’ll regret with someone else.” His eyes narrow as he thinks on that. “But think about it—we’re perfect for each other. We belong together.”

I shakily get to my feet. He reaches out and catches my arm. “Hey, are you all right? Maybe you need to sit down?”

“I’ll sit down on the sofa,” I tell him as I tighten the robe’s sash. It wouldn’t do for the robe to open or anything. He may get the wrong idea. I need to gather my bearings so that I can hold my own with him. He wouldn’t have come all this way if he didn’t think he could get me back.

Was I not clear enough when I broke up with him? Did I leave him room to hope?

Oh, hell.

And the person I was before this trip maybe would have gotten back together with him. But that was before I realized there could possibly be something between Henry and me.

“Have a seat, Dominic,” I say, gesturing to the sofa. I want to sit on the chaise lounge, where I can feel the closest to Henry. By sitting on the spot where he spent the night while Dominic sits on the sofa, I feel like I’m already putting up the barriers between us.

I look down at my hands, realizing that I’m picking at the cuticles. I only do that when I’m stressed, and even with David at his worst, I haven’t picked at them.

Goes to show how bad my nerves are now.

We sit across from each other, saying nothing for the longest time.

“What’s going on, Cat?” Dominic asks, suspicion edging into his voice.

I close my eyes and take a deep, calming breath.

I look at him, trying to tell him my apology through my gaze. “I lied to you.”

“How so?”

“I didn’t exactly come here for a vacation.” I place a strand of hair behind my ear, stalling. “Jessica had called me for a job, and I wanted to visit before taking it.”

I can see him process this layer by layer. “Oh,” he says. “And are you taking it?”

I nod.

“And that’s why you broke up with me?”

I nod again.

He sits forward, putting his elbows on his knees as he gives me a hard look. “You could have just told me that you’re looking at a job here. And I don’t care if you’re in Dubreva, we can make it work.”

“It wouldn’t work, Dominic,” I tell him. “And I had to break up with you because I had a lot to think about for myself. From my job at Croft Media to you and…”

My voice catches in my throat.

“And?” he prompts.

I gulp sickly. “I’m pregnant.”

There’s only silence from him as he narrows his eyes at me, thinking about it. I’m sure by now he’s figured out what this means.

“It’s definitely not mine,” he says.

I shake my head. “No, of course not. But, the father of the baby is here. And I think I really kind of like him.” Possibly love him.

He sits back, crossing his arms as he scrutinizes me. I want to squirm under his gaze. “So, this happened when you were here back in June?” he asks skeptically. “Is that why you came back here? To see him?”

I shake my head. “No, Dominic—”

“Is there even a real job or are you lying about that to me as well?”

I hold up my hands in surrender. “I promise you, there is a real job with Jessica here. And I didn’t just choose this job because of Henry—”

“His name is Henry?”

I blanch. “He’s a prince here.”

I know exactly what he’s thinking, and I hate that he thinks that about me. Because that’s not what happened at all. I’m not some gold-digger.

“So, you got an anchor baby to tie yourself to a billionaire? And you broke up with me because you found out you scored?”

“I’m not—”

I knew that Dominic was a cutthroat, damn good lawyer. But I’ve never had his ire turned on me. I flinch at the accusation in his voice.

No wonder he wins so many cases.

“I never figured you for the type, Cat.”

“Stop being such a fucking asshole,” I say through gritted teeth. After all, I tried breaking up with him to avoid this. And it still isn’t working out.

He shakes his head. “That’s fine. I’ve heard everything I need to hear.”

His accusation hits me like a slap. It physically hurts, and I gape at him.

He gets up to leave, glaring at me, and I feel guilt grip my heart, over something I didn’t even do wrong. I don’t want it to end this way with him. I thought it would be all right, that he’d understand the circumstances. And maybe it would have been better had I been able to break the news on my terms.

I wanted to be honest with him, and that’s what he got.

Maybe I should have handled all of this in a different way. Because this isn’t working right now.

Then, as if the universe just had to make things worse, another knock sounds on the door.

I glance at the clock. Noon.

Shit.

“Is that him?” Dominic asks, pointing to the door.

I get to my feet. “Dominic—”

He opens the door, revealing Henry standing there in another one of his impeccable suits, looking like the billionaire he is. He has a single white rose wrapped up in some white tissue paper for our date.

Even just their choice in flowers shows how different they are.

Henry’s eyes flick from Dominic, to me in my robe, and then to the flowers on the table. He frowns, furrowing his eyebrows together.

“What’s going on here?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

My heart leaps out to him, that he’s here, seeing me in a compromised situation like this.

Dominic crosses his arms, appraising Henry for size. “I’m Cat’s ex-boyfriend from New York,” he says. “And who are you?”

If Dominic saying that he’s my boyfriend bothers Henry, he doesn’t show it. “I’m Henry,” he says. “Prince Henry.”

My heart sinks at his lack of designation for me. That he didn’t identify himself as anyone important to me.

“Yeah, she just told me about you,” Dominic sneers. “You realize that I came all the way over here to win her back, right?”

Henry gives him a tight smile. “Well, what does Cat want to do?” he asks.

His question seems to catch Dominic by surprise. “What?”

“You want to win her back,” Henry says evenly, glaring at him, “but she’s not a prize to be won.” His eyes are on me when he adds, “And she’s not just a personal assistant. She’s Catherine Collins. The mother of my child and so much more.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Dominic says to him in a snide tone. “All she is, is a gold-digging—”

“Stop,” I interject.

“—lying—”

“Stop.”

“—hussy,” Dominic finishes. “And you can have her and her bastard kid if you want.”

He pushes past Henry to leave, but Henry forcibly catches his arm. Dominic rears his arm back as if to strike him, but Henry’s moving first. His fist connects with Dominic’s jaw, catching him off guard and throwing him and up and away from us. Dominic must have a glass jaw because the hit knocks him out cold, and he’s sprawled on his back on the ground.

“What did you do?” I shriek, putting a hand up to my mouth. Everything is so surreal at the moment, like I’m witnessing someone else’s life.

“I wasn’t going to let him talk to you like that,” Henry mutters, shaking out his hand. He grimaces. “Haven’t punched someone in a long time.”

“You can’t go around punching people!” I tell him. “Especially not a high-profile lawyer like Dominic.” Everything is going up in flames around me. I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe.

Henry doesn’t seem to understand though. Instead, he just scoffs, turning away from Dominic’s still form. “What, you think he’s going to sue me?”

“Yes!”

“First of all, he can’t sue me, because he’s an American lawyer and I’m fucking royalty. And second,” he jabs his finger at the still form on the ground, “he insulted you and the baby. And I wasn’t about to let him get away with that.”

“I had it under control!”

“Because you saying ‘stop’ was doing so much good,” Henry says. “You should have just let me deal with him.”

I look at him, aghast. “So that you could pummel him some more?”

“He deserves it.”

I feel the tears coming on as a surge of emotions hit me. Pregnancy hormones? Maybe. But all I can think about is how everything is ruined. Henry can’t just go around punching lawyers. Or anyone for that matter! What kind of behavior is that?

What kind of father would do that?”

“Look, can you just…go?” I ask, shakily running my fingers through my hair. I start crying. No, outright sobbing as I’m standing here, my shuddering breaths wracking my body as the entire world becomes a watery mess.

Just like all of this.

“Cat…” Henry says, his voice trailing off.

He reaches out to touch me, but I twist out of his reach.

“Just go,” I whisper.

“You’re going to stay with him?” Henry asks. “After what he did?”

“What else am I supposed to do after what you did?” I snarl, throwing my hands up in the air. “Just, go. Please. Before you ruin this any further.”

That came out wrong, and I see the hurt in Henry’s expression as he nods slowly. “All right,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “All right, then. Before I ruin it further.”

He spins on his heel as best he can and walks away.

Leaving me to pick up the pieces.

I sink to the floor. And I cry.