Page 10 of Married to the SEAL
“Why?”
She shook her head. “Never mind.” Cold air on her wet nipple made her peek beneath the blanket. The baby was fast asleep, his mouth lightly open and a perfect cupid’s bow. But her other breast was hard and full of milk, and she needed him to keep nursing before her engorgement became painful.
Dammit.
She should have been paying attention.
Made him switch sides before he became full. Her breasts were making too much milk, and she had specific instructions on how she needed to feed her baby.
You can’t even do that right.
There was another knock at the door.
She cursed under her breath. “Come in.”
A woman in a maid’s uniform opened the door, her eyes going sheepishly to Matteo. “I’m Trudy, Miss Grace’s maid. I understand you two were married in Switzerland. You have my congratulations. I’m so excited for your reception this evening.”
Grace felt her heart sink. It had been a long day, perhaps one of the longest in her memory, and the very last thing she felt like doing was being the center of attention in a crowd of people.
And she would have to pretend to care about this man, as if just breathing in and out were not difficult enough today.
“Maybe you could recommend a dress for me to wear,” suggested Grace.
The girl’s eyes lit. “Oh, I’d love that! Maybe the cream organza, or the aquamarine satin from France.”
“Whatever you think is best. Something forgiving, please. My body isn’t yet my own.”
“Of course, Miss.”
The door closed and Grace stared at it. “What are we going to do?” she asked, the idea of the evening ahead weighing on her like a boulder on her back.
“We try to look happy.”
Grace picked up the sleeping baby and gently put him in his crib. “And if I’m not up to the task?”
“Then I’ll help you.”
He sounded sincere and she was grateful this stranger-turned-husband might actually make this situation easier.
She bit her lip as an image popped into her mind. Wedding guests clinking silverware on glasses to get the couple to kiss. She felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. “What if they expect us to kiss? They do that at wedding receptions.”
“They do.”
“We don’t even know each other. No offense, but I wasn’t planning on kissing you.”
“No offense taken. I wasn’t planning on kissing you either.”
She ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t know what my father was thinking. People are going to take one look at us together and know we’re completely full of shit.”
And then what would happen? She needed her country to believe this was real. Anything that threw her marriage into question could hurt her father’s chances of winning the election. With the recent terrorist attacks, he needed every point in the polls he could get.
“Then we’ll have to do better,” he said.
“What do you suggest?”
“You do want people to believe us, right? Because right now you’re acting like you’d rather give up.”
“It’s important for this country that my father is elected. I’ll do what I have to do to make sure that happens.”
