Accidental Wife

by Day Leclaire

  She rebuked him with a look. "I do, however, have a few concerns."

  He released his breath in a gusty sigh. "Naturally."

  "First.. .I expect you to convince Eric we're a happily married couple. Can you do that?"

  His eyes narrowed as he absorbed the slight. The mere fact that she needed to ask underscored her lack of faith in his abilities. Not many could have offered such an insult and escaped without repercussions. "I'll convince him that if he approaches my wife with anything other than business in mind, he'll regret it." He allowed a hint of his displeasure to show. "Or don't you think he'll believe I'm serious?"

  She held his gaze for a tempestuous five seconds before looking away, color sweeping into her cheeks. "He'll believe you," she concurred.

  "Fine. Let's go."

  She dug in her heels. "Wait a minute. I'm not through."

  He ground his teeth. "Lady, I said I'd marry you. What more do you want?"

  "I just need to make sure we understand each other."

  He grimaced. "Trust me, I understand more than you realize."

  "I'm talking about specifics. I don't want any dispute later on."

  "Then you'd better talk fast because I'm giving you precisely thirty seconds," he informed her tightly. "After that, you're on your own."

  Apparently, she took his warning seriously. Without wasting any further time, she ticked her questions off on her fingers. "Okay. You've already agreed to convince Eric we're a happily married couple. Second.. .you're willing to move to New York, right? You'll stay with me until the situation with Eric is resolved?"

  "Yes."

  "Third.. .you understand that your actions mustn't put my job in jeopardy?"

  "I understand." He folded his arms across his chest. "Is that it? Are you through now? No fourth, fifth or sixth on your list?"

  "Just a fourth."

  "Which is?"

  If he hadn't caught the turbulent glitter in her eyes, he'd have thought her completely unaffected by their discussion. After all, she'd rattled off her points like some sort of human computer. But that flash of deepening violet gave her away. Whatever her final point concerned, it should have been first on her list, not last.

  "I need to know your expectations."

  He lifted an eyebrow, surprised by her request. He'd anticipated something far more crucial. "I expect to marry you, save your bacon and then send you on your merry way," he replied. At the same time, he'd protect International Investment from any further business debacles and allow Eric time to come to his senses.

  "And that's all?" She moistened her lips. "You won't ask any more of me?"

  Comprehension dawned, and with it came a purely masculine reaction, a predator's response to spotting its prey unprotected and vulnerable. He stepped closer, his attention drawn to the pulse fluttering frantically at the base of her throat. "Are you asking if I want to sleep with you?" he questioned deliberately.

  She retained her cool, although he suspected it was a hard-fought battle. "Yes. I guess that's what I'm asking."

  "I don't think it's worth discussing."

  To his amusement, she looked relieved. Did she misinterpret all business discussions as badly as this one? he couldn't help but wonder. He'd have to speak to her about that. He couldn't afford to have the company put at risk because of her erroneous assumptions. "Now, have we addressed all of your concerns?"

  "Yes."

  "Then I suggest we get this over with before your boss succeeds in talking his way past the Montagues and tracks us down." He shot her a sharp glance. "He doesn't know the purpose of this ball, does he?"

  "I don't think so. I told him I was flying out to meet my husband," she explained, then eyed him uneasily. "I don't know why he followed me. Maybe he was curious to meet you..." She released her breath in an exasperated sigh. "My husband, I mean."

  "Or maybe he didn't believe you were really meeting anyone. Let's just hope the Montagues don't go into lengthy explanations about their reason for throwing this little shindig or we'll be up to our necks in it." He took her arm in an iron grip. "Let's find the library."

  Footmen dressed in white and gold uniforms directed them downstairs to a county clerk who processed the marriage licenses. She wore a name tag that read, "Dora Scott." Discarded on one side of her desk was a sign announcing, "For faster service, feed me hors d'oeuvres." A short line had formed in front of her, but by the time they'd filled out the necessary applications, the room had emptied.

  "Let's see who we have here," Dora said as they approached. She held out her hand for their forms.

  Realizing he stood on the brink of disaster, Jonah hastened to introduce himself. "It's Joe. Joe Alexander." Nikki might not associate the abbreviated form of his name with Eric's half brother. But his given name was unusual enough that if Dora blurted it out, his identity would be all too evident. And he had no intention of revealing his connection to Eric until after they were safely married.

  The clerk glanced at his application and chuckled. "Fine, Joe." She examined the second form. "And Nicole."

  "Nikki," the bride-to-be hastily corrected. She indicated the sign. "I'm afraid we didn't bring any hors d'oeuvres."

  "Forget it. One more cheese puff and I'd probably pop. Okay, folks, let's get through this." Within minutes, Dora had typed up the necessary paperwork and handed them a thick blue-and-white envelope. "Marriage ceremonies are conducted in salons off the main ballroom. Give the envelope to whoever officiates. You get to keep the fancy-looking certificate inside as a souvenir. But it's not a legal document. That comes later in the mail." She glanced at them. "Any questions?"

  "Not a one," Jonah responded.

  Dora nodded. "In that case, I have one piece of advice. Take care of each other, hear?"

  "Taking care of people is what I'm best at," Nikki assured the clerk.

  "Funny," Jonah muttered. "That's what I was going to say."

  "Swell. A pair of caring souls," Dora said with a laugh. "Get out of here, the both of you. You need to get hitched and I have work to do."

  "We better make this quick," Jonah advised as they returned to the ballroom. "If Eric managed to talk his way in, I don't want to run into him at an inopportune moment."

  Nikki paused outside the door to the first salon. "It seems we have a choice of ceremonies. What sort do you prefer?"

  "The short-and-to-the-point sort."

  He shoved open the nearest door and looked inside. Nikki caught a glimpse over his shoulder and made a small sound of disappointment. Not that he blamed her. The room was attractive, but very stiff and formal. Even when the judge beckoned him to come forward, he hesitated. For some reason, he found ice blue brocade, walnut furniture and artificial flowers a total turnoff. Besides, it wouldn't suit Nikki.

  He backed out and closed the door. "Bad choice," he announced.

  "What's wrong with it?"

  "Too long a line," he lied, fully aware that from her angle she hadn't seen enough to dispute his verdict. "Let's try another."

  Opening the door to the next salon, he nodded in satisfaction. It was perfect. Tiny and intimate, it had an old-fashioned, almost Victorian feel to it. A dainty Laura Ashley rose print covered the walls, and the overstuffed couch and wing chairs were finished in a deep ruby velvet with ivory lace arm covers. Centered along one wall was a cherry highboy displaying an ornate silver tea service. Along the other was a fireplace with a gold-leaf beveled mirror above the mantel that captured an overview of the entire room. Fresh flowers filled delicate Waterford crystal vases, the fragrance of roses offset by the smoky scent of hickory from a gently crackling fire.

  If he could have chosen the perfect setting for Nikki, it would have been one like this.

  She stepped into the room behind him and caught her breath in delight. "Oh, Joe, this is wonderful."

  "It'll do," he agreed with a lazy smile, not quite certain why the setting for a temporary marriage mattered so much. He must be more exhausted than he'd thought.

&n
bsp; A minister rose from a chair beside the fire and smiled at them, his thick white hair reflecting the leaping flames. "Welcome. I assume you wish to be married?"

  "Yes, please," Nikki answered without hesitation. "Right away, if you don't mind."

  The minister smiled indulgently. "Very well, my dear. But before I begin, I'm required to ask that you give careful consideration to what you're about to do."

  Jonah nearly groaned. If he did that, he might come to his senses and back out. No, better they get this over with and fast. "Look, we've considered, we've decided and we're in a hurry." He thrust the envelope containing the necessary forms at the minister. "Could you just get on with it?"

  The minister accepted the envelope and adjusted the wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose. "I'm afraid not," he replied, his gentle blue eyes turning somber. "You see, marriage is a serious commitment, not to be entered into lightly. So I ask that you face each other and look carefully at your partner. Make sure that your choice is the right one."

  Cursing beneath his breath—but realizing it was the only way they'd get this show on the road—Jonah turned to look at Nikki, studying her with clinical detachment. At first, all he noticed was her appearance. Tall and beautifully proportioned, she was a stunning woman. Her translucent violet-flecked eyes met his without flinching. He liked that about her; he had from the start. Of course, there were other qualities he liked, as well.

  Her mouth was the most kissable he'd ever encountered and her skin the softest he'd felt in an age. Even the deep auburn of her hair suited her to perfection. He half smiled in appreciation as he eyed her elegant topknot. Sometime during the evening, glossy tendrils had escaped to curl with fiery abandon about her temples and the nape of her neck.

  And that's when he saw beneath the surface.

  Her hairstyle mirrored her nature, he suddenly realized. She struggled to attain the appearance of severity and restraint, but couldn't quite achieve it. Equally, she fought an unending battle between the tempestuous aspects of her nature and the need for rigid control. On the surface, she appeared perfectly composed. But underneath smoldered an inferno that probably terrified her, that threatened the calm, orderly existence she'd built. With new insight, he looked at her again. And in the end it was those pansy-soft eyes that gave her away—betraying her uncertainty, her desperation, her passion, as well as her unwavering strength and determination.

  He wanted this woman.

  He wanted to feed those sparks of inner rebellion, to release the delicious fire she kept tamped inside and to be scorched by the heat of it. Keeping all those emotions bottled up couldn't be good for her, and he decided then and there to find a way to demolish her control. Hell, he'd probably be doing her a favor.

  In the meantime, he had to find a way to alleviate her fears. As though in response to his thought, the scent of roses drifted to him again. He turned and crossed to the nearest vase, stripping a few sprigs of baby's breath from the arrangement.

  "Come here," he ordered gruffly.

  She crossed to his side, hesitating a few feet in front of him. He closed the distance between them and very gently arranged the baby's breath around the loose knot crowning her head. Her hands slipped across his chest to cling to the lapels of his black suit coat as she waited for him to finish. She wouldn't be happy when she discovered his identity, he realized with regret. But he hoped to convince her that what he'd done was in everyone's best interest.

  At least, that's what he told himself.

  Nikki stared up at Joe, scrutinizing the taut, uncompromising planes of his face. She hardly dared to breathe as he tucked the flowers in her hair. Satisfied, he looked at her, a reassuring tenderness glittering in his eyes. And with that one look, all her fears dissolved.

  She'd been so nervous, the enormity of her decision almost overwhelming her. When the minister had suggested they reconsider the step they were about to take, she'd almost fled the room. Not even her desperation over Eric could have dissuaded her from backing out, even at this late hour. Only the memory of Krista—and that overheard phone conversation—held her rooted in place.

  But looking into Joe's hazel-green eyes and seeing his confidence and self-possession went a long way toward easing her uncertainties. He must have known how close to the edge she'd come, for he leaned down, his breath mingling with hers.

  "Don't worry," he whispered in reassurance. "I'll take care of everything."

  Cupping her face, he sealed his vow, his mouth capturing hers in a gentle kiss. She opened to him, the last of her misgivings fading within the protective strength of his arms. It would all work out. With Joe at her side, she could solve all her problems.

  Reluctantly, he released her. "Any more doubts?" he asked.

  "None."

  "Then will you marry me, Ms. Ashton?"

  A tremulous smile teased the corners of her mouth. "Yes, Mr. Alexander. I will."

  "Have you reached a decision?" the minister asked.

  "Please begin the ceremony," Nikki requested, perfectly calm and collected. Perfectly willing. "And it's Joe and Nikki."

  With a rakish grin, Jonah plucked a single rose from the nearest vase and handed it to her. At her questioning look, he shrugged. "A bride should have a bouquet."

  The ceremony was surprisingly brief, as per their request. Just before the minister pronounced them husband and wife, he peered at them over his spectacles. "Would you care to exchange rings?" he asked. "We have them on hand. They're tokens, really. Just something to use until you're able to replace them with the genuine article."

  "I already have a ring," Nikki told Jonah in a hesitant undertone. "Everyone would think it strange if I wore something different now."

  "Give it to me."

  She slipped it off her finger and dropped it into his outstretched palm. "What about you?"

  "I'll need a wedding band."

  The minister dutifully fetched a tray of rings. The third one Jonah tried fitted. To her surprise the design on his ring almost matched her own. In fact, if she didn't know better, she'd have believed it to be every bit as real. Even more real was the moment he slipped the ring onto her finger. It was a moment out of time, a brief instant in which their marriage attained a veracity and permanence she hadn't expected.

  It isn't a permanent marriage, she tried to tell herself. It's only temporary. But the image of their exchanging wedding bands became fixed in her mind, an indelible snapshot that she knew she'd carry for a long time to come.

  And as the minister pronounced them husband and wife, Nikki realized she was in deep, deep trouble.

  It wasn't until they'd reached her rental car that Nikki's earlier doubts crept back. Had she done the right thing? Had she married the right man? Had she lost her mindi

  "So where do we go from here?" Jonah asked once they were confined in the dark interior of the sedan.

  "I have a room at the Grand Hotel. It's not too far from here." She fought to keep her voice even and nonchalant. "I... I thought we could spend the night there before returning to New York in the morning."

  "My ticket's open-ended," he said with a shrug. "Flying out tomorrow is fine with me."

  "Are you staying at the Grand, too?"

  He shook his head. "I wasn't sure what to expect tonight so I booked a room in Las Vegas."

  He didn't know what to expect? That didn't make sense. Surely he expected to find someone compatible and marry her. "'Why—"

  "How about—"

  She smiled at the momentary confusion, her tension easing. "Sorry. Go ahead."

  "Since your hotel is closer, why don't we stay there?"

  Filing her question away for the moment, she gave her attention to the matter at hand. "What about your luggage? Would you like to pick it up now?"

  "I don't see the point. We can take care of it on the way to the airport tomorrow. In the meantime, I'm sure your hotel can provide me with the bare essentials. To be honest, what I could use more than anything else is a bed."
<
br />   She hoped he didn't mean that the way it sounded. Reaching for the ignition, she cast him a quick, suspicious glance, but it was too dark to read his expression. "You must be tired," she commented pointedly.

  He caught her hand before she could start the engine. "Don't let your imagination run away with you." Amusement rumbled in the deep tones of his voice. "As much as a wedding night with you appeals, sleep appeals even more."

  "I knew what you meant," she snapped, annoyed that he preferred sleep over her—and even more annoyed that she'd find anything objectionable about that fact.

  She started the car, the engine roaring as she gave it far too much gas. Damn it! Why had everything turned so awkward? If only she could pretend he was a difficult client. She'd always been assigned the tough ones. It was her metier and one of the primary reasons she'd been put in charge of special projects at International Investment. In every instance, she'd used her analytical skills to figure out what the client wanted, then cool, calm reason with a touch of charm to negotiate from there.

  She gnawed on her lip. Unfortunately, Joe was her husband, not a client. And she suspected that neither charm nor reason would cut much ice with him if he decided to be difficult.

  She pulled onto the road leading to the hotel, determined to remain in control of the situation. After all, she wasn't interested in him as a man, at least not sexually. Her reaction to those kisses could be explained away as purely hormonal. That was it. It could be chalked up to a normal, healthy reaction any overworked, stressed and desperate woman would have to a virile, violently masculine, wildly sexy male animal. It had nothing whatsoever to do with a growing emotional attachment. She'd learned her lesson the hard way in that particular arena.

  Emotional attachment led to pain and disillusionment and financial ruin.

  Logic and control kept her world safe and protected.

  All she needed was a husband to help resolve her problems with Eric and Krista. Once they were settled, she and Joe could get an annulment. Then she'd be free—free to simplify her life and pursue her career. In fact, she'd be able to give her full attention to work and not worry about anything else. That would make her happy. Right?