What Happens in Vegas...

by Kimberly Lang

  But which part? The living as roommates or living together at all? She’d put some thought into this. But who on earth got married and then lived as roommates only? Probably the same kind of person who planned their divorce before they proposed. “That’s it?” he asked sarcastically. “You’re not asking much, are you?”

  “I know it’s a lot to ask—and it will cramp your dating style a bit—” her mouth twisted, and he disliked the implication he picked up women in bars as a regular habit “—but all I really ask is that you don’t do anything that could get back to my family, or Dallas for that matter, and cause embarrassment for me, my family or the baby.” She paused and bit her lip. Something else was coming…“And you’ll need to sign a prenup.”

  Evie had thrown a lot at him in the last few minutes, and he was still trying to process all of the information. She seemed to take his silence as disagreement, though, and reached for a manila file on the coffee table. “I’ll give you a few minutes to read it over, and then…and then we’ll talk more.” She stood without making eye contact and went to the minibar, where she poured a soda with intentional slowness.

  Curious, he flipped open the file. It was a pretty standard agreement: anything Evie had before their marriage—and damn, it was substantial—stayed hers. Upon her death, her assets went into a trust managed by her attorney for their child—or children, he noted with surprise. Likewise, everything of his remained his, but without a codicil for the children if something happened to him. She obviously hadn’t told whoever drew up this contract she was pregnant already, because there were clauses regarding her inheritance and her heirs if there were no children from the marriage. Darkly, he realized that she’d left him a nice settlement in case of her death.

  If he’d been looking to get married, it would be a sweet deal. But he hadn’t been looking to get married. The baby—his baby—changed everything.

  But in case of divorce…“What the hell is this, Evie?”

  Nick could tell by the tensing of her shoulders she’d been waiting for him to reach that section.

  She faced him with bravado. “That’s your settlement. It’s rather standard, actually, to set a fixed sum for each year of marriage. In our case…well, I wanted to compensate you for the inconvenience of marrying me.”

  Inconvenience was an interesting word choice. So was compensate. “Sounds like a bribe to me.”

  Her jaw dropped. “It’s not a bribe—”

  “Then why is the next clause a nondisclosure agreement that forfeits that money if I talk?”

  “I’d like some privacy, some part of my life I don’t have to worry about making the news. That clause isn’t anything out of the ordinary, and the money—”

  “I don’t want your money, Evie.”

  “But—”

  “I believed you when you said you didn’t need my money. Trust me when I say I don’t want yours. I don’t need a stud fee. That deed was done for free.”

  Evie turned a shade of red that clashed with her hair. Then she squared her shoulders and looked at him coolly. “There’s no need to be crude. I was only trying to be fair to you.”

  Politeness dripped off every word. Watching Evie retreat behind a wall of good manners would be amusing in any other situation, but bordered on absurd now. “I don’t see anything about custody arrangements.”

  “Because most people aren’t pregnant when they sign pre-nups, and you can’t make custody arrangements for children that don’t exist yet.” Evie was still unfailingly polite, but he could hear the undercurrent of frustration in her voice. “Those arrangements come with divorce papers.”

  Custody arrangements were foremost in his mind at the moment. Damn it. He had a master plan and marriage—to anyone—hadn’t been in it. He was ahead of his schedule, but marrying a spoiled socialite wasn’t on that schedule anywhere. And a baby…

  Risk of fallout or not, he didn’t doubt Evie would go home to have this child if he refused to marry her. He didn’t give a damn about her reputation or the “problems” that would cause her family, but it did create problems for him. One, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on Evie while she was pregnant. She could do God-knows-what for the next nine months and cause the baby to have all kinds of problems.

  He was a hands-on project manager: marrying Evie would give him oversight of this pregnancy.

  Secondly, refusing to marry Evie now could put him in legal difficulties later when he did sue for custody. She could use this moment against him later, claiming she’d offered him the chance to claim paternity and he’d refused.

  The fact she had money—and a powerful family—added a degree of difficulty to the situation. If on the off-chance she did decide to fight him in the future, she’d have the wherewithal; he didn’t need to give her any additional ammunition.

  That was a slim chance anyway. Her family probably wouldn’t want a reminder of Evie’s mistake. They wouldn’t want his less-than-blue-blood or his blue-collar DNA sullying the Harrison bloodline.

  But marrying Evie would give him all kinds of rights and give him some control over the situation. If Evie proved to be a good mother, he didn’t have to divorce her, and his child could grow up with two parents. People married for less noble causes and managed to live somewhat harmoniously. She’d called it a business arrangement. Crude wording, but true.

  Decision made, he took a pen out of his pocket and drew a line through the divorce settlement clause and initialed the change. “You’ll need to initial that before you sign. We can get it witnessed and notarized when we get our marriage license.”

  He didn’t realize how tense Evie was until he saw her close her eyes as the relief washed over her. When she opened them, the relief there was tempered by an uncertain discomfort and cautious disbelief.

  Nick knew exactly how she felt.

  Dear Lord, was she actually going to do this? Evie felt a weight lift off her shoulders only to be replaced by a strange sick feeling in her stomach. She’d spent all her time working on the plan to get Nick to agree, but she hadn’t thought beyond that. Marrying Nick sounded so good in theory—the baby would know its father, she wouldn’t have to face the press—but now that it was about to become reality, she was afraid she was about to make a huge mistake.

  For both her and the baby. This baby wouldn’t lack for anything, and she worried now that bringing Nick into the situation instead of just facing the music alone might not be the best idea in the long run.

  Because this Nick wasn’t the one she remembered. The fun-loving, laid-back Nick of a few weeks ago had been replaced by a man with a hard jaw who very early on in this “meeting” had began to look at her with what she could only describe as distaste. And she didn’t understand why.

  After all, she’d worked very hard to make her proposal as palatable for him as possible. She’d rehearsed this; she wasn’t coming to him all needy or trying to play on his conscience. She was offering him a very fair arrangement, and he was acting like…like…

  His sarcasm, the cold bite in his words, the way he was scowling at her…Ugh. Topped with the cool efficiency as he flipped through the prenup and discussed details…She almost backed out of the whole plan because she’d be better off dealing with Will than Nick. At least she knew how to handle Will when he got like this.

  For someone whose plan was coming together, who was getting exactly what she wanted, she felt as if she was strapped in a guillotine, unsure whether she dreaded or welcomed the fall of the blade. She gave Nick one more chance to back down. “Are we really going to do this? Like right now?”

  One dark brow arched at her. “Why wait? This was your idea, not mine. Cold feet already?”

  Yes. “No, not at all.” Now what? Lighten the mood, that’s what. “So…what do we do? Go to the courthouse? Elvis at a drive-through?”

  Nick thought for a moment, and Evie would have given her trust fund to know exactly what was going through his mind. “I actually have a few things to do first. Give me a couple o
f hours and then we’ll go.”

  A couple of hours. She felt the guillotine blade slide a little bit. That short of a reprieve wouldn’t give her much time to get her head sorted back out. “Okay.” What was she going to do with herself for a couple of hours? Besides hyperventilate.

  “Do you have a dress?”

  That snapped her back to the conversation. “Pardon me?”

  “A dress? To get married in? I’m assuming you’ll want pictures to show your family, and you won’t want to be in jeans.”

  She hadn’t thought of that. She mentally sorted through her suitcase and came up empty. That showed how out of it she was; she came to Vegas to get married and didn’t even pack a nice dress. Maybe deep down, she’d been expecting—hoping?—this plan would fall through and not happen at all. “You know, I don’t. I guess I can shop for something while you…you do…whatever it is you need to go do.”

  Nick nodded, but his scowl didn’t diminish at all. “I’ll pick you up at eight, then.”

  She walked Nick to the door, the uncomfortable tension between them so different than what she remembered from before. When the door closed behind him, Evie leaned against it and banged her head gently. This was absurd; she was marrying a man she barely knew simply because she was carrying his child. How had she ended up here?

  She’d allowed herself one tiny romanticized daydream where this conversation worked out completely differently…But no. This was a business agreement. She knew that. She swallowed her disappointment Nick was treating it as such.

  Evie looked at her watch and sighed. She needed a dress, but the last thing she felt like doing was shopping. Thankfully, there were plenty of great shops right here in the Bellagio. They’d have something for her to wear.

  By fifteen to eight, she’d showered and redone her hair and makeup and was sliding the zipper up on the simple ivory sheath she’d found. It was perfect for a simple wedding, and were the circumstances different, she’d be thrilled to wear it. This was a far cry from the princess-style wedding she and Gwen had talked about when she was a teenager. Not that that kind of wedding had been her dream—she always imagined something more intimate and private—but this wedding was falling far short of any kind of romantic fantasy.

  Instead, she was getting ready for her wedding alone in a hotel suite. She should have let Bennie come with her; it just seemed wrong to get married without any of her family and friends around.

  Her fiancé was gorgeous and sexy and made her heart pound to think about him; Nick was practically the groom of adolescent fantasy weddings in the flesh. But…

  This wasn’t going to be a romantic story she’d share with her child in the years to come, that was for sure. The disappointment in her stomach was real—a physical pain. She’d always assumed that when she did get married, it would be forever; a marriage like Will and Gwen’s, like her parents’.

  The sharp knock at her door startled her. A glance at the clock told her Nick was punctual, if nothing else.

  She said goodbye to her girlish fantasy and faced reality.

  Evie slid her feet into her shoes and grabbed her purse. With one last deep breath to steady her nerves and fortify her resolve, she went to get married.

  Chapter Five

  WHEN EVIE OPENED THE DOOR, she was steeled for the worst. She wasn’t prepared, though, for the physical reaction that slammed into her, stealing her breath and causing heat to coil through her veins. She’d seen Nick in jeans; she’d seen him in a work-appropriate shirt and tie earlier, but in black slacks and a black button-down silk shirt…damn. He looked wicked and delicious, and only showing up naked at her door could have affected her pulse more.

  He had showered and shaved, and his dark hair fell casually over his forehead in a tousle most men would have to spend hours to achieve. If things were just a little different…

  But the arching of Nick’s eyebrow was a harsh reminder of the reality of the situation. Things weren’t different. Things were what they were. He tempered that reminder, though, with a simple, “You look nice, Evie,” that caused her heart to stutter regardless.

  “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.” She pulled the door closed behind her and gripped her handbag tightly to keep her fingers from sliding over that silk shirt to feel the man beneath. As they walked toward the elevator, Nick’s hand landed on the small of her back.

  It was a simple gesture—commonplace, even—but Evie felt as if she’d been touched by a live wire. Had she really offered Nick a marriage in name only? That they’d live simply as roommates? She had to be insane. How had she forgotten the magnetism of this man?

  In the close confines of the elevator, each breath she took was filled with his scent, and her thighs were trembling as they descended.

  “That’s a nice dress. Didn’t they have anything in white?”

  She cut her eyes at him. Was that an insult or a tease? His dry tone didn’t help; he could have been discussing the interior decor of the elevator. “White’s not a good color for me. Too harsh against my skin tone.”

  Nick merely nodded, which didn’t tell her anything,

  She swallowed. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “Kevin and Lottie are meeting us in the lobby. We’ll go to the license bureau first—”

  Whoa. “I’m sorry, who are Kevin and Lottie?”

  “Kevin is my friend and business partner. Lottie is his wife. I couldn’t get married without telling them.”

  That caused her conscience to twinge in guilt, and she thought sadly of her family again. “I see.”

  The elevator doors opened, and Nick took her hand as she stepped out, stopping her just beyond the threshold. “My friends don’t know the true circumstances surrounding this wedding, and I’d like to keep it that way—although for different reasons than you.”

  She hadn’t thought about what Nick might tell his friends and family. Realizing all the things she’d forgotten in her plan was quickly becoming a full-time job. “Of course. One happy couple, coming up.”

  Nick smiled for the first time and butterflies battered her insides. He didn’t let go of her hand, either, and a nice warmth moved through her as they crossed the lobby in the direction of a couple wearing bright smiles.

  “Kevin, Lottie, this is Evie.”

  Kevin had average Irish good looks—tall and ruddy—an open, honest face and a contagious grin that put her at ease almost immediately. Lottie, in contrast, was petite, with beautiful olive skin and long black hair that hung to her waist. Lottie immediately wrapped Evie in a hug that made her feel welcome and slightly guilty for deceiving this nice woman.

  “You’re even more beautiful than Nick said,” Lottie gushed, “but I’m sure we’re going to be great friends, regardless.”

  Evie was still reeling over the news Nick had told these people she was beautiful as Lottie rushed on. “Later, you’ll have to tell me how you managed to snare Nick. I’d all but given up on him finding someone.”

  “Let her breathe, Lottie,” Kevin admonished his wife. Turning his grin at Evie, he extended a hand and continued, “You’re a brave girl, tying yourself to this guy.”

  Evie felt a bit overwhelmed and unsure of what to say. “I’m very happy to meet you both. Nick has told me so much about you.”

  From the identical shocked expressions on Kevin and Lottie’s faces, she worried she’d stepped in something, but she wasn’t sure what. She knew she wasn’t the best actress, but had she blown it already?

  Then Kevin laughed. “Nick talking. That’s a first.”

  Confused, she looked at Nick, who merely shrugged. Great. That’s helpful.

  Lottie took her husband’s hand. “I told you she’d have to be something special.”

  She didn’t feel very special at the moment. “He is the strong, silent type, isn’t he? That’s okay, because I can talk enough for both of us.”

  Lottie beamed, and Evie wanted to like her—felt as if she could really like her and maybe have a friend in Las Ve
gas already—but the guilt was killing her. If the guilt of deception was this bad just with Nick’s friends, how on earth would she survive her family?

  Nick continued to hold her hand as they followed Kevin and Lottie out and into a waiting SUV. Kevin held the door open for her with a mock bow. “I’ll be your driver for the evening. Sit back and relax. First stop, marriage license bureau.”

  She’d been surprised to learn that any government agency in the world was open until midnight seven days a week, but as she filled out the paperwork for her marriage license along with several other couples, she understood the necessity of it in Las Vegas.

  Her license was still hot off the printer when Kevin herded them back into the car and screeched out of the parking lot. Just a few minutes later, she was entering a chapel, and Lottie was pushing a small bouquet of roses and daisies into her hands.

  Her chest constricted, and it became difficult to breathe. Back out. Run. Forget this whole plan. Then Nick tucked her arm under his. She jumped in surprise.

  He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “You’re not planning on ditching me at the altar, are you?”

  The humor in his voice banked the onset of her panic attack, and she looked up to see an amused glint in his eyes. “Actually, I am.”

  “Too late,” he countered, as a balding man waved them forward and Kevin and Lottie took their places on either side of them.

  She’d never realized how quick a wedding ceremony actually was, and the minister was looking to her for a response before she’d had a chance to catch her breath. Nick’s “I do” seemed to boom in her head, even though she knew he’d said it at normal volume.

  At least she wasn’t in a tacky chapel being married by an Elvis with fake sideburns. This chapel was actually rather nice: understated and charming, lit by soft candlelight and peaceful. While she’d been floundering in confusion and trying to find a decent dress to wear, Nick had been busy planning something nice for their wedding. Her stomach gave a funny flip at the idea.