Angelique Rising

by Lorain O'Neil

  "You're a virgin?" he asked kindly.

  She nodded mutely.

  "I thought so."

  "You don't mind?"

  He smiled.

  "We will take it slowly, Ange, anything you don't like you just say something. I mean it." He stood up offering her his hand. She took it and he led her into the suite's largest bedroom.

  He was gentle (he watched her closely), it was tender. Until it was explosive. More than anything Angelique had ever fantasized, and incredibly, more than Wyatt had ever experienced and his experience was vast.

  Who is this woman Wyatt gasped quietly as he collapsed beside her on the bed, who can entice me so? Confound me, heat me, unleash me. He scooped her up positioning her across his chest, encircling her snugly in his arms. The heat from her bare breasts on his naked chest saturated right down to his heart.

  "Happy birthday, baby," he whispered but he knew she hadn't heard him, he'd felt her body melt into sleep moments after she'd settled onto him.

  The smile she had on her face still made him think of a summer dawn.

  *****

  George stared at his brother in shock. Wyatt was in bed with his arms wrapped around an obviously naked woman who was sleeping on his chest. The woman wasn't what was almost too much for George --it was the small stain of blood on the sheet beside her. Wyatt had found a virgin? In Vegas? Wyatt opened his eyes, spotted George gawking from the open doorway and signaled him with his eyes.

  Get. Out.

  George didn't budge but continued to leer lewdly, jerking his eyebrows up and down theatrically at Wyatt, giving him an energetic thumbs-up salute.

  Wyatt flicked his head sharply in fruitless threat.

  NOW.

  George pulled a face, turned and closed the bedroom door, bowing with great although silent aplomb. Leave it to his older brother he reveled cheerfully, to come to Vegas and get some. He sat down, waiting. Two minutes later Wyatt appeared, quietly closing the door behind him.

  "You're late, George."

  "You're right, Wy, don't know what we'd all do without your mind-blowing assessments."

  Wyatt scowled at him in wry amusement trying to repress a smile.

  "But I see you put the morning to good use, bro," George continued, his eyes dancing in mirth. "Now you want to tell me what this is all about? Not often I get a message like that --get your ass on the jet to Vegas pronto."

  "I'm getting married today. You're best man."

  "WHAT?"

  "Her name's Angelique Reising, that's her in there," Wyatt smiled slyly.

  "You're marrying a Vegas showgirl?"

  "She's a student, George, from home. She's here giving a performance, she earns her living by singing which you would know if you had shown up at the Gala, she was the headliner there."

  "Wait a minute --is she the woman you sang that duet with that everyone can't shut up about? She's going to marry you?"

  "Hopefully."

  "What d'you mean hopefully? You haven't asked her yet?"

  "No, and I'm not going to. She would say no."

  "Then how--"

  "I'm going to get her drunk today. Crazy drunk. She's young, she's never had hard liquor before. The wedding will be here in the suite --Johnson's arranging everything. I figured the best way to keep him from scuttling the whole thing was to put him in charge of it. As soon as I've got her amenable, we'll do it." Somehow he almost made it sound permissible, a minor inconvenience.

  "Wyatt, that's crazy. You can't--"

  "I can and I'm going to so I need you standing by ready. And don't tell me you've never done it, deliberately gotten a girl drunk, I have a very good memory."

  "Yeah, but not to say yes to marriage! Mom and Dad will have a nut. And Maureen! She still thinks the two of you are gonna get back together. I take it there won't be any prenup."

  "No George, but don't worry, I'm keeping this one no matter what it takes. She's... different. I know you don't believe that, you think I'm some dumb fool in love but that's because you haven't met her yet. Trust me, there's something about her--"

  "You're sure about this? Remember how much Maureen cost you?"

  "I'm very sure."

  "Okay then, bro, I'll be there. Probably would've just lost my money down in the casino anyway, I never win anything."

  "That," Wyatt said handing him an envelope, "is where I want you to wait, make sure your cell is working properly. That's a check they'll cash for ten grand, make it last, I don't know how long this is going to take. Once she's drunk I have to bring her to the License Bureau to get the Marriage License and Certificate."

  "You ever try waiting in line with a drunk chick, Wyatt? Not pretty."

  Wyatt laughed, remembering the website's advice.

  To save time, please complete the Pre-Application for a Marriage License. We want you to have joyful memories of your wedding day. No one wants to be stuck in line at the Marriage License Bureau.

  "Nope, it's all ready to be picked up, I checked. We have to appear in person and I'll be the one presenting our driver's licenses. Put your stuff in either of the empty bedrooms George, then make yourself scarce. As soon as Angelique wakes up we're eating here in the suite. She performed last night --don't make the joke, George-- and she never eats before a performance so she'll be hungry and hungry means thirsty too."

  "And you'll be the acting bartender? What's it gonna be? A lot of slushy, fruity, sweet, oh so pretty drinkie poo's? With cutesy paper umbrellas?"

  "Fuzzy navel slush, strawberry frozen daiquiri, cosmopolitan slushy, kiwi colada, fizzling peach splash, whatever it turns out she likes, I'm fully stocked."

  "You realize this is nuts, Wyatt. Eventually she's going to sober up."

  "I'll deal with it."

  "Well, bro, I'm gonna go take a shower. And if I should happen to run into the bride-to-be on my way out--"

  "You say anything, I'll shut down your whole IT department."

  "Oooo..." George laughed clutching his heart dramatically as he picked up his satchel and headed for one of the smaller bedrooms.

  "George," Wyatt called after him offhandedly. "Thanks."

  "Wouldn't miss it for the world, bro. Wish I'd brought a suit. And that I get to be there when you tell Maureen but I'm in another state when you tell Mom and Dad."

  I've never seen him like this George beamed as he entered the bedroom. Christ he's happy. He wouldn't marry some goldigger, he's not stupid. He got roped into Maureen, but this one... And she'd say no? To Wyatt? What woman in her right mind would say no to a marriage proposal from Wyatt Cochran? And with no prenup? Holy Toledo this is nuts.

  George wondered how long he could stall, hang around, for the chance to meet her, sorry he'd only gotten a look at her bare back. Fabulous hair though, even all sex-tousled.

  On this, her wedding day.

  Life, he chuckled, is pretty weird. But pretty damn interesting. Angelique Reising, soon to be Cochran, that is if she changes her name. Maureen sure did, lickity split, and kept it.

  George wondered how blotto a woman would have to be to say yes to an uninvited marriage proposal and still be able to stand up during the ceremony. He smiled. If anyone could pull it off, it would be Wyatt. Damn, he smirked, he had the coolest brother in the flippin' world.

  *****

  Angelique was staring. It was a virtual buffet.

  "What's this all for, Wyatt?"

  "I figured you'd be hungry, babe --and it's your birthday."

  A large table in the middle of the suite's living room was covered in polished silver chafing dishes, platters, everything for a feast and all of it emitting a delicious mouthwatering aroma.

  She was starving.

  "That was so nice of you, Wyatt, thank you. Do I get a birthday cake too?"

  "Right over there," he pointed, "and you're welcome. And something else, a private bar. I'm going to make you some delectable concoctions."

  "You know you don't have to get me drunk to have your wicked way with me, Wy
att. I believe I demonstrated that last night."

  His face softened, he kissed her briefly and stroked her hair, she near dissolved.

  "Last night was good for you?" he asked, his voice melodious, his eyes liquid. "It was okay? You're not sorry?"

  "It was the best day --or I suppose night, no, technically morning, oh whatever, of my life, Wyatt. And I thank you for it." How could she explain it to him? Two lifetimes, never a connection in either, but last night? Last night she had learned what being human really was, what was beyond simple touch, what it was like to be truly glad to be alive not to mention going BA-VOOM three times.

  "You must be Angelique!" a voice called excitedly.

  Angelique turned and saw a man standing in the doorway of one of the bedrooms grinning jovially at her. He looked a few years older than her, young and slick with bold black eyes. There was a look of perpetual amusement on his face as he stared at her with unreserved wholehearted welcome. He was tall, wearing a polo shirt exposing huge biceps (he could crack a chestnut with those, she thought) and grabbed her hand heartily.

  "I'm George, Wyatt's brother, also known as the guy who never turns down a free hotel room."

  "George is the head of the technical division at my company, Angelique."

  "Yesiree, smart geek brain and a job easy enough I never have to use it. Wow, look at all this food, I see you got the everything-that-can-be-chafed-is-chafed package," he laughed, rowdy and irresistible.

  Angelique liked him instantly, he was just so comfortable with himself, so accessible, the kind of person you just knew was never disagreeable.

  "Why don't you join us, George? There sure is plenty."

  Wyatt shot a glance at George who threw up his hands in mock surrender.

  "Thanks Angelique but I think I'm going to go lose ten grand to the casino. You want me for, er, anything bro, cell's fully charged."

  "See you later," Wyatt said meaningfully.

  George was almost out the door when Angelique rushed him, kissing him full on his lips, hard. He blinked at her in astonishment.

  "For luck," she said.

  "Hooo-kay," he breathed looking nervously at Wyatt who rolled his eyeballs spiritedly like he was trying hard not to laugh.

  "Angelique," Wyatt finally grinned, "has talents."

  George didn't know what that meant but his brother's about to be new wife was fabulously beautiful and that alone made her okay with him --Maureen would go nuclear and anything that ticked off Bitch Central was fine by him. And heh! As head of public relations at the company it was probably Maureen who'd hired Angelique's troupe to sing at the Gala in the first place! She'd brought in Angelique without even knowing it!

  Holey G'moley when Maureen finds out what she did she is gonna expire!

  "Lets eat, shall we?" Wyatt said as George closed the door behind himself, rocking with laughter inside.

  *****

  Wyatt loved her, he hated having to do this to her. Something deep within him though demanded that he keep her safe and the only way to do that was to possess her and the only way he could figure to do that (short of locking her away on a tropical island which he'd actually fantasized about) was marrying her to him. He categorically had to protect her.

  And so he began, the preparations meticulous. A piña colada was first, she didn't really like it ("too strong") so he insisted she finish it and he would make her something else. He urged her to sample all the dishes he'd ordered, each of them saltier than the last. He served no water and when she asked for some he frowned. It was after she'd finished the fourth drink her eyes drooped, her speech slurred, her brain fogged.

  "Come," he said, "I have to go pick something up."

  "You go..." she shrugged, "I'm... lie down..."

  "Lie down in the car," he said getting her purse leading her to the door and pulling out his cell phone. Johnson would be in the rental waiting.

  She fell asleep in the car, he had to wake her for the Bureau. Still, she was able to stand if a little wobbly. The clerk came very close to refusing to hand over the License and Certificate due to the bride's obviously inebriated state but in the end Wyatt's wilting glare auguring nothing but trouble won out over her askance one, and she decided it wasn't worth the fuss. Angelique fell asleep in the car again on the way back to the hotel.

  "Get to the suite," Wyatt said into his phone to George, "we're on our way."

  "Wyatt, you are not going to believe this. I won! Everything I played I freakin' won! I'm up five hundred thousand grand! I am hot! Just give me another thirty minutes--"

  "No! Get to the suite now! We're pulling in, George. The minister is there waiting. Do it. Do not screw with me on this."

  Damn it to hell, George thought, I bet I could get up to a million.

  "Okay," he grumbled, "I'll cash out. See you there."

  "Where're...going?" Angelique mumbled, unable to focus her eyes.

  "A wedding."

  "Oh," she said gamely still trying to focus. "S'nice. I don't feel--"

  "Hang in there, Ange, you can lie down in the suite."

  "S'okay."

  The minister was well paid and well instructed (by Johnson) and, feeling Wyatt's fierce determination near overwhelming the room, said nothing untoward to disrupt the ceremony. When it came to Angelique's turn to speak, however, she said nothing.

  "Say yes, Angelique," Wyatt coached in steely resolve.

  "Huh?"

  "Say yes. You want to."

  "I do?"

  She said it. Wyatt stared fervently at the minister attempting to dominate him with his will. The minister, already besotted with acute misgivings having sensed Angelique's extreme confusion, plucked up his courage, opened his mouth to rebuke Wyatt at which point his courage failed him miserably.

  Wyatt's voice rasped with impatience as he tried again.

  "Yes. Say yes."

  "Okay."

  "No, yes. You have to say it. And sign it."

  "Yes," she said gullibly, everything was blurred and askew and fading and she felt queasy. She wasn't sure what was going on, just some sort of wedding thing that was happening. Somebody's rehearsal, she figured. She wanted to sleep.

  Wyatt's eyes gleamed in triumph. The minister finished the ceremony rapidly, pitching each word an octave higher than the last. At Wyatt's request, she signed a card.

  "George!" Angelique burbled drunkenly, recognition seeping through her alcohol soaked brain as he signed the card too.

  "Angelique," he responded sheepishly but with eyes radiating devilment, "I think you need to sit down."

  "I really like your brother. Wyatt."

  "That's good, Angelique. That'll come in handy."

  "He's so nice."

  "Un huh. He's right over there with Johnson," George pointed to Wyatt handling paperwork with the harrowed minister who was attempting a hasty retreat.

  "Oh yeah." She waved crookedly. "I did it with him last night."

  "I know."

  "He said I was tight and I don't know how to fix it."

  "Tight is good, Angelique, don't worry about it."

  "It is? Thaz a sexplanation. I thought he was hurting himself. He groaned a lot."

  "That's good too."

  "He likes me an' he doesn't hardly know me, he's barely scratched the tip of the iceberg." She paused. She wasn't sure that had come out right.

  "He loves you."

  "I fell in love wi' him under a stage."

  "Wyatt --I think you'd better get over here."

  Angelique had passed out cold.

  Wyatt moved to Angelique in stiff precise intent, carefully picked his cherished (albeit unconscious) new wife up in his arms and bundled her off to his bedroom catching the looks of uneasy fascination on his brother's and Johnson's faces.

  He didn't care. She was his now. And by golly he was going to keep her.

  "Good morning," he said much later to her, a hint of a smile on his face.

  "Morning?"

  "It's before dawn."<
br />
  They were laying together on his bed, him in his pajama bottoms, her in her underwear (he'd removed her jeans, shirt and shoes the night before).

  "How do you feel?" he asked, his voice deceptively sympathetic.

  "Confused," she said blearily. "What day is this?"

  "The day after your birthday. What do you remember?"

  "The birthday cake. Oh... I drank all those drinks. Oh lord, did I pass out?"

  "You fell asleep late yesterday afternoon. You've been asleep for hours."

  "That probably explains why I need to hit the bathroom bad. 'Scuse me," she said vaulting out of bed and bounding away. She reappeared a few minutes later looking quite embarrassed.

  "Wyatt, I'm so sorry. I never drank like that before. I should have told you. Are you mad?"

  "Do you remember what we did?" he asked lifting up the bedcovers in a gesture calculated to summon her back in.

  "Um, no. But I can guess." She snuggled up to him relishing his body heat.

  "Look at your hand. No, the other one."

  She did and saw the rose gold wedding band.

  "What?"

  "We got married yesterday. Don't panic. You can get out of it." He squeezed her thigh.

  "We didn't."

  "I assure you we did. But the minister won't record the Certificate for a few more hours. If you want we can go get it, tear it up, go our separate ways. Or you can go with plan B."

  "Plan B?"

  He took a large breath like he was about to jump into some very deep water with a leaky life vest.

  "We consummate this marriage. And if we do that Angelique, that's it. You're consenting to be my wife and you'd better believe it's for keeps. But before you make your decision there's something you have to know. I love you. That's for keeps too. I'm rich, I will give you anything you want but you will have to make some changes. You must stay safe --I will enforce that. Do you remember what I said to you the first time I was on your houseboat? I said I will take you over my knee right now. I wasn't kidding. You ever again do anything I think puts yourself at serious risk --like that poker game of yours-- I'll do it. Maybe worse. I don't know. You choose to be my wife, you accept that right now. No crying about it later. You take the sweet, you take the not so sweet too. I don't want to hurt you. But there's something so vulnerable about you, and it screams out at me to protect you and I'll do whatever I have to to do precisely that. Even if it means some painful lessons for both of us in the you-sure-won't-do-anything-like-that-again department. Your decision, Ange," he finished in a clear no-discussion voice.