Page 12 of Married to the SEAL
His hand was at her neck, tilting her face back up to him before he could stop it. She leaned into him again and his mouth captured hers.
He moved slowly, tasting the sweetness of her full lips as his hand stroked her back.
The air in the room shifted, this moment suddenly changing from an impersonal experiment to a highly personal embrace. They weren’t practicing anymore. He was a man and she was a woman and they were kissing because they wanted to be kissing.
God, she felt so good.
He should pull back. He knew it clearly, like he was standing on the edge of a high cliff, considering the fall that was possible if he persisted. He lifted his mouth and rested his forehead against hers, knowing he shouldn’t continue but not wanting to stop.
A knock sounded at the door and he met her eyes. She ducked under his arm to answer it, and he turned reluctantly around. A butler stood on the other side, holding up a suit and tie on a hanger. “I’ve brought Mr. Matteo’s things for the reception, Miss Grace.”
“Take them to his room, please,” she said.
The butler looked from Grace to Matteo and back. “But this is his room, madam.”
Jesus, I’m sharing a room with her.
He tucked his hands in his pockets. How the fuck was he going to keep his hands off her for three months? He’d only been here a day and they’d already been making out hot and heavy.
The butler cleared his throat.
Matteo walked to him and took the hanger, thanking him before shutting the door and turning to Grace. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”
Her cheeks were red and she shook her head. “No, it isn’t. That son of a bitch expects us to share a room.” She stormed to the phone, picked it up, and dialed. “How could you?” she snapped. “This was not part of our agreement. The wedding reception is bad enough, but you expect this man to share my room with me?Share my bed?”
The irony struck Matteo. Wasn’t that exactly what he’d just been thinking? His stare fell to the floor, unfocused. He was grateful for the interruption. He had to do better going forward, had to stay out of that situation and control his reaction to this woman.
He was a SEAL, for God’s sake. Willpower shouldn’t be a problem.
She hung up the phone, letting it slam into its cradle and sitting eerily still.
“What did he say?” he asked.
She didn’t answer for a long moment. “That I made my bed, and I must lie in it.”
The insensitivity in that response shocked him. How bad was the relationship between father and daughter if that was how he treated her? “You two don’t get along very well.”
“You’re very observant.”
Prickly. She was prickly. He pretended not to notice. “It must be hard.”
“And the fact that I’m here, under my father’s roof again when I never thought I’d be back—ever—is the worst kind of salt for my wounds. He hates me.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why else would he do the things he does? I understand the necessity of me being married. I get that. But forcing you to share a room with me? There’s no reason for him to put me in that situation unless he wants to punish me.”
“Grace, I won’t do anything to make you uncomfortable. What just happened between us doesn’t have to happen again.”
Unless you want it to.
He didn’t say the words that his mind was screaming for him to add.
“That was a mistake,” she said, covering her face. “I’m so embarrassed.”
He walked toward her. “Don’t be. It’s my fault. It was my idea and I got carried away.”
“It felt good to forget about my problems for a second. To feel something besides awful.” She shot him a sideways glance. “It’s nothing personal.”
