by Petrova, Em
“Nice to meet you,” Jordana said, a little confused.
“Which room should we set up in?”
She pointed to the left. They beamed equal smiles and the trio headed toward her room.
She faced Logan. “Why are they here?”
“To show you a few dresses. You try them on and pick one out. We’re in Vegas.” He grinned. “We should make the most of it.”
She gave a small frown, crossing her arms. “We’re not here on vacation. We’re here to stop my sister from getting married.”
“By the way, have you heard from her yet?”
She gave a weary sigh, nodding. “She sent me a text this morning. They’re on their way to get the marriage license as we speak. She said she’d call me later with the details. I’m beginning to feel my plan is meant to fail.”
“And the wedding won’t be until tomorrow?” At her nod, he gave a light shrug. “Well, I want to take you out on a date. It’s long overdue. Would you rather sit in the suite waiting for your sister’s call or would you rather go out and have a good time before we try to bust the vows?”
Logan’s idea held some serious appeal. Although the suite was gorgeous and held every indulgence one could ever ask for, people didn’t come to Vegas for the rooms. And apparently, he’d arranged this appointment for her to give her incentive to go out with him. Like she needed any. “What did you have in mind?”
“We’ll make it up as we go. Now, don’t make them wait.” He tapped her butt as she headed to her room.
Logan couldn’t hide his astonishment that she’d spent less than an hour with the ladies from Madame Bissette. Though she seemed to have fun with it, she didn’t appear all that comfortable when the girls tried to persuade her to buy more than one gown. She shooed them out in her sweet way and asked him if he wanted to get lunch.
As they ventured downstairs to the casino, Logan couldn’t stop glancing at Jordana, anticipating their next kiss and so much more. He rather liked the idea of seducing her all day, so when the time finally came, he could make her come all night, so to speak.
The sweet wantonness of her was like a drug to him, one he wanted to keep on taking.
Something told him Jordana would bring an element to the bedroom others did not. He couldn’t wait to find out what it was.
They chose to eat al fresco at the highly recommended bistro, Kreation. It was situated next to a small man-made lake and waterfall outside. He poured her another glass of red sangria, making sure she got most of the fruit she liked. “So, tell me, do you actually have a plan for Lucee? Or are you opting to wing it?”
Jordana shrugged, plucking out a grape. “I don’t really have a plan. Unfortunately, I haven’t had a chance to say anything since she busted out this news yesterday. I wanted to speak with her before she even got the marriage license, but it’s too late now. As soon as she calls me about the wedding, I’m going to tell her how I feel.”
“Do you really think you’ll be able to talk her out her of it?” Logan had his doubts Jordana would be successful in persuading her sister to postpone the nuptials. Knowing what he did about their relationship, Jordana’s best sisterly advice would only upset the free-spirited Lucee.
Jordana’s mouth curved. “Well, no, I don’t think I’ll talk her out of it, but I can’t just stand aside and say nothing. And who knows, maybe she’ll listen this time.”
“How do you think her fiancé will feel when he sees you’re trying to come between him and his bride? I know I’d be a tad resentful. Maybe you should keep your reservations to yourself. Let her make her own mistakes.”
She gaped at him. “I thought you agreed with me about not rushing into marriage.”
“Oh, I do. Trust me.” He sliced a hand in the air. “No one is more skeptical about the idea of marriage than I am. I simply think you will only strain your relationship with her. Might be better to let things happen.”
With a huff, Jordana sat back in her chair. “Maybe.” She shook her head. “But when you throw caution to the wind about major life decisions, it has a good chance of ending badly. That’s why I’m so adamant about talking to Lucee. My mom would want me to.” She snatched a cracker and munched, fixing her gaze on her plate.
There was something more behind Jordana’s concern, something much more personal than worry over her sister’s future happiness. The last thing he wanted to do was pry, however. The past was the past. He grabbed his glass and raised it, deciding to elevate this conversation with some levity. “Tell you what I think. Marriage is a scam, Jordana. It’s not as if a piece of paper guarantees happily ever after. I’d rather keep my head above water alone than drown underneath the surface with many.”
She regarded his mocking statement with a half smile. “Whose quote is that?”
“Mine,” he said, grinning without shame.
The sparkle was back in her eyes as she drank more sangria and he knew he’d accomplished his goal.
They finished their lunch then ordered dessert. He allowed Jordana choose for them, some monstrous chocolate-raspberry ice cream mountain with cookies sliding down the sides in syrup. “You know what I’d like to know?” Logan said, picking up his spoon and reminding himself to get a good workout in tomorrow. “What the fuss is all about. With marriage. What are we really missing out on here?”
Jordana smiled and feigned serious consideration on his question. “A tax break.”
He snapped his fingers. “Health care benefits.”
“Some nice rings?”
“Guaranteed sex.” He winked.
“Now you’re talking!”
“And now I get it. What the hell? Let’s get married!”
Her burst of laughter made him grin, made him want to lean across the table and kiss her. The spontaneous urge surprised him because he wasn’t a PDA sort, but she shone like the sun, warming and lifting his jaded spirits. Caught up in their little world, Logan didn’t notice the raven-haired woman who had approached their table until she cleared her throat, making him look up to realize she wasn’t one of the Kreation staff. She wore a bright teal sundress and a big diamond bracelet twinkled on her wrist, a camera in her hand.
“Hello.” She smiled with full, shiny red lips. “Mi scusi, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if you could take a photo of me and my husband?”
Jordana beamed a smile. “Of course!”
The attractive older woman smiled in return and handed Jordana her camera. “Che meraviglia! My love, come here. She’s going to take our photo!”
A tall, older man with salt-and-pepper colored hair and a Hawaiian shirt came happily to his wife’s side. “Another one? I could hire some tourists to follow us around and we still wouldn’t have as many pictures as the ones you force people to take of us.” He didn’t have an accent like she did, and Logan guessed the man didn’t speak Italian.
She giggled. “You love it, sí?”
He snuggled her close.
Jordana rose to stand in front of them, preparing to take the picture. Logan slid up behind her to supervise. “Don’t forget the flash,” he murmured close to her ear.
She bumped him with her hip. “We don’t need the flash. It’s broad daylight.”
“You need it, trust me. The sun is behind them.”
“It’s fine,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I’m telling you it won’t turn out…” he sang.
The older couple chuckled at their banter.
Jordana pressed the button, but to her frustration, a picture wasn’t captured. “What the heck?”
“You have to hold the button down.”
“I did hold it down!”
“Give it.” He attempted to take the device from her.
She held it away from him. “She gave the camera to me. I just need a second to figure it out.”
“By the time you figure it out, the sun will set.”
A sharp elbow to the ribs from her made him laugh more than cause him pain, though he doubled
over as if profoundly wounded.
Jordana held up the camera once more. “Okay, here we go. Smile!” A picture was finally captured.
“Thank you so much,” the woman said in her heavy Italian accent, taking back her camera. “I couldn’t help but watch you from our table. What a beautiful couple you make! How long have you been together?”
Jordana snorted and Logan was very much about to do the same when he found himself grabbing her waist with his arm and said, “Not long enough.”
Jordana whipped her gaze on him.
The Italian woman’s husband laughed and gave a hard wink.
“It is wonderful to see young couples in love, no?” his wife sighed. “It’s all over you both how happily married you are.”
Jordana tensed, but Logan squeezed her, silently encouraging her to go with it. “Well, we have a hard time hiding it, don’t we, honey pot?”
Her wide eyes met his with I-can’t-believe-you’re-doing-this pouring out of them. She opened her mouth and then smiled, splaying an affectionate hand on his chest, which he liked a little too much. “Right. We’re as happy as a couple of West Coast clams.”
Logan choked on his laughter.
“Are you here on your honeymoon?” the woman asked.
Logan wasn’t sure how far he was going to take this little farce, but he didn’t see the harm in playing the role of a married man for a moment. “Just a little weekend getaway. I told her anywhere she wanted go, I’d make it happen. She said Vegas, and I couldn’t say no.”
“Come si può dire di no a una bella ragazza come lei?” How could you say no to a beautiful girl like her? “So sorry. I was asking—”
“Non so quando mai dire no.” I do not know when I will ever say no. Logan smiled.
“Your fluency is impressive! Did you learn from your parents?”
“Non, signora.” Pleased to speak her native language, Logan quickly summarized how he studied Italian in college at his father’s insistence he learn both it and Spanish for business. And that Logan perfected it by dating an Italian girl for a few months for good measure. The busty woman laughed then linked her arm in her husband’s, switching back to English. “Where are you staying? Here?”
“Yes. We just got in last night,” Jordana replied.
“Oh! We are too. You must meet us tonight! We insist, no?” She tugged at her husband’s sleeve.
“Of course they can. My company is throwing a gala tonight in the Élan Ballroom. We’re celebrating a merger. You’re welcome to come as my guests. Open bar, music, the works. Formal, fancy gig. Can’t show up in boots or coconut bras.”
Logan chuckled and turned to Jordana. “What do you say? You have a dress.”
“You’re right.” She looked a little unsure, but she smiled at the couple. “Thank you for the invite. We’d love to join you.”
After getting some of the details of the party, the couple, Marlena and Oliver Redgrave, they learned, waved their goodbyes and wandered back to their table. When they were far from hearing distance, Jordana lightly pushed at Logan. “What was all that about?” she asked with an incredulous laugh.
“She was impressed with my Italian.”
“I’m not talking about that and you know it. By the way, what were you two discussing?”
“She wanted to know how I learned Italian.” He decided to give her a half-truth. The part about never saying no to her he could keep to himself.
“I’m curious, too. You were speaking it last night with your client. How did you become fluent?”
“By studying abroad and listening, practicing…and dating a rather talkative native.”
“Talkative?”
He feigned a serious tone, lowering his dark brows. “Oh sure, she said a lot of things in bed, shouted them in fact, like—”
Her hand smacked over his mouth. “That’s a detail I don’t need to know. You know what I really asked about a minute ago,” she said, hands on hips. “You told them we were married.”
“I didn’t tell them anything. I just didn’t correct her when she made the assumption.” He picked up their sweating glasses of sangria.
“How can we mock marriage one minute then pretend to be a part of it the next?” she chastised, accepting her drink.
He gave a careless shrug. “This is Vegas. We can be whatever we want to be out here.” He took a sip. “Including married. We’ll put on our party best and have some fun with it.”
She eyed him with skepticism. “Hmm. Dress up and pretend to be husband and wife? Now that’s a scam.”
“It’s not as if we have to prove it. Just for tonight. We’ll look like one of those rare married couples who actually like each other. Maybe we’ll inspire some unhappy folks to be nicer to their spouses.” What came over him to lie to strangers and claim Jordana was his wife, Logan couldn’t really say. Though, it’d be amusing to pretend to own a title he knew he’d never take.
“If you say so.” A slow smile spread across Jordana’s face, warming up to his idea, and suddenly, he couldn’t wait to show off his make-believe wife.
Chapter Nine
That evening in her room, Jordana was wrapped in a fluffy white towel, staring at the beautiful dress Logan had purchased for her this morning.
A floor-length silk gown that reminded Jordana of something the goddess Aphrodite would wear. Its color at first appeared to be ivory, but as she brought it into the light, there was a subtle reflection of the barest yellow.
She held it up against her body in the mirror. A spaghetti-strap design with a sweetheart neckline, it wrapped to the left hip with multi-colored jewels at the tuck, and flowed all the way to the floor.
When she slid into the dress and checked in the mirror, she could hardly contain the thrill of wearing something so exquisite.
She ran her hands down the front, turning left, then right, smiling. Too bad she didn’t have any pretty earrings to go with it.
But she did have the Sigvy. She would still give it back to him, but it would go perfectly with this dress. And since the occasion was formal, it’d be appropriate.
She arranged her hair in a loose updo and finished her makeup with a touch of gloss to her lips.
Her cell phone went off. Rushing to her purse, her heart jumped when she saw it was Lucee. “It’s about time you called me,” she answered.
“Jordy! Omigod, it’s been a crazy day. It took us three hours to get the marriage license, and then I left my cell phone on the counter while we were filling out the paperwork. So annoying. We were at the hotel by the time I realized it was missing, but we were having so much fun at the craps table we didn’t go back until later. Thank God, they’re open twenty-four hours on the weekends. Where are you?”
“I’m, uh…” She could hardly believe she was dressed in a designer gown, about to accompany Logan Savant to a party, pretending to be his wife for the night. She plopped down on the bed. “I’m staying at the LaVoisier.”
“Huh? Seriously? Miss Fancy Pants. I totally assumed you’d be at a cheap hotel or something. You went all out!”
Jordana ran her hand over the bedspread. “Well, the hotel wasn’t really my idea. I came with someone.”
“Oh, good. Then you’re not out here all by yourself! I was going to invite you out, but you must be having a girls’ night. Which is totally cool because we’re exhausted. We’re gonna crash early. Like in five minutes,” she laughed.
Of course Lucee assumed Jordana came with a girlfriend, not a guy. “Actually—”
“I bought the hottest white dress at this boutique store. It’s vintage!” A giggle. “Okay, so we found a cute place off-Strip to get married. It’s called The Red Velvet Chapel. We just reserved our ceremony for ten in the morning. Hello, crack of dawn, that is so early, but it was the only time they had left. I can’t believe I’m going to be a missus this time tomorrow!”
Jordana held her breath. “Lucee.”
“What?”
Now was the time to voice her misgivings
, but as her sister waited for her to continue, Jordana’s previous convictions refused to take the stage. Logan’s words about letting Lucee make her own decisions rang in her memory. Maybe tomorrow, before the wedding, she would try again. Sighing, she finally replied, “Nothing. I’ll see you in the morning. ’Night, sis.”
Lucee gleefully said goodnight and hung up.
Logan’s deep voice in the main room of the suite caught her attention, and a sudden rush of renewed attitude sparked. Smiling, she stood before the mirror and assessed her appearance, righting the diamond necklace. She took a deep breath, as if meeting her prom date for the first time, anxious to see what he thought.
As she walked out of her room, he was on his cell phone, his back to her.
“Well, I told him the move was ill-advised from the beginning. Now he’s wasted everyone’s time and we have to…” He was dressed in a black suit that fit to perfection, and she couldn’t believe he was going to be on her arm for the night. Her movement caught the corner of his eye and his head snapped in a double take. “Walter—gotta run. Someone very important just walked in.” His hand dropped to his side as he raked her whole body with his gaze. “You look incredible.”
She couldn’t have asked for a more gratifying reaction. She came closer to him, the gown flowing behind her. With her heels, she was almost able to meet him eye to eye.
He took her hand in his, making her turn around. “And you brought the necklace. Thought you might wear it to the gym here?” he added teasingly.
“Well…” She wouldn’t tell him she’d originally brought it to give it back to him. Not yet. He’d probably turn her down. “Is it too much?”
Shaking his head, smiling, he said, “Not at all. It’s where it belongs.”
His Carolina-blue gaze was locked with hers. Neither moved, neither spoke. For a wild moment, Jordana forgot where they were. If he would have taken her in his arms and ripped off her dress right then, she wouldn’t have complained. Of course, it would’ve been a shame to stand up Marlena and Oliver. Breaking the sexual tension, she softly pinched the knot of his tie. “Are you sure you still want to go through with our little charade of Mr. and Mrs.?”