Chapter 3
Marry the father of her child?
She would’ve jumped at the chance to marry her baby’s father, would have fallen over her own feet in her haste to the altar, but she didn’t know where he was or even if he was alive.
Grace instinctively pulled the baby more tightly to her chest, the pressure on her overly full breasts making her aware she needed to nurse. As if on cue, Nico stirred in her arms, searching for her nipple with his mouth.
She didn’t want to nurse the baby here in front of her father. The thought made her feel so alone. The last few days had been difficult.
No, the last few weeks.
In the days since Nico’s birth, she had missed her mother more than she would have thought possible. Every time she had a question about how to do something, how to handle a rash or her son’s nighttime fussiness, she longed for her mother’s sound advice and warm sense of humor.
But her mother wasn’t here, hadn’t been here in more than a dozen years, and it hurt to no end that her sweet son would never know his grandmother.
Her hands clutched at her son’s little body. She never knew until he was born just how much she could love another person, the purity and intensity of a mother’s love. She would do anything for this child, to protect him or make him happy. Anything at all.
She narrowed her eyes. “And this man you hired, he is willing to pretend to be my husband? Or did you fail to mention that little tidbit?”
“Technically, he wouldn’t be pretending. We would need the marriage to be legally binding in case the media suspects anything. You will get a divorce after the election is over.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “That’s three months from now.”
“Yes. Three months of inconvenience for you to give those people out there a better life.”
She laughed without humor. “Inconvenience. Marrying someone I don’t even know is an inconvenience.”
What does it matter now, anyway?
Her heart was already broken, her hopes for the future shattered. Nico’s father would never be part of her life again.
“Getting married now won’t change the fact I wasn’t married when he was born.”
“A minor matter of the date. I’ll take care of it.”
She nodded and stood. “Does he have a name?”
“Matteo Cruz.”
“He must be a real winner if he’s willing to marry a stranger for a paycheck.”
“Or else he’s willing to make a sacrifice for the greater good, just like you are.”
A pounding on the study door made her jump, and her eyes met her father’s, seeing the matching concern there.
“Come in,” said her father.
His security advisor walked in. “There’s been an explosion on the pedestrian bridge downtown. It’s collapsed, sir.”
“Any casualties?”
The man’s face was gaunt, haunted. “There appear to be hundreds.”