by Day Leclaire
“That’s it? You’re marrying in order to gain control of your inheritance. No strings attached?”
“I don’t need your money,” she said with absolute sincerity. “Or whatever else your inheritance might be. I just need you. If you’ll give me the paper and a pen, I’ll be happy to sign the agreement.”
He studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “That’s the last of my conditions. This would be a good time to name any you might have.”
“All I want is your help fighting Mrs. Marsh,” she said. “Once we’re married, I expect you to stick by me.”
A sardonic smile edged his mouth. “You have my unconditional support for the length of our marriage. Guaranteed.”
She eyed him keenly. “Even if that isn’t as short a time as you’d prefer?”
He didn’t like the implication, but to her relief, he didn’t argue. “Yes.”
“I hope you mean that.”
“You doubt my word?” he asked ominously.
She gave an awkward shrug. “It’s not that. It’s just that none of my former fiancés lived up to their promises. Mrs. Marsh scared them all off.”
“I’m not those other men,” he snapped. “I keep my word.”
She prayed he’d still feel that way once he knew the complete truth. But somehow she doubted it. “Do we have a deal, then?”
“We do.”
She smiled up at him, daring to tease. “Shall we seal it with another kiss?”
His eyes glittered dangerously. “Not wise, elf.”
“Maybe not. But it is enjoyable.”
He shook his head. “I prefer we do this by the book. First we’ll take care of the prenuptial agreement. Then we’ll have a wedding.”
“And the kiss?”
Passion marked his expression, burning in the fevered gold of his eyes. “Once we’re back at the hotel and in the privacy of our own room, you can have as many as you want.”
As many as she wanted…The thought fired her imagination. It seemed too good to be true. Soon she’d be married to Jake, she’d make love to him. Excitement stirred, and with that excitement came a fragile hope that their relationship would be blessed, that she could fill the emptiness he carried like a leaden weight and vanquish his demons. That a special joy would come from their joining, a joy unlike any they’d known before.
He needs me, she repeated silently. And I need him.
“Sit down and take a look at these papers,” he requested, spreading them out on the table.
She resumed her seat and tilted the documents so the glow from a nearby lantern fell across them. To her relief, the agreement appeared simple and straightforward. Jake stood over her, insisting she read every word. Once done, she signed without a qualm, then glanced up at him. “What’s next?”
“We have to fill out an application before we can marry. There’s a county clerk stationed in the library with the necessary documentation.”
Wynne smiled. “Which means all we have to do is find the library.”
Footmen were quick to direct them and they discovered the county clerk seated behind a massive oak desk processing marriage applications. Her name tag read, Dora Scott, and she’d propped a sign next to her that announced, “For faster service, feed me hors d’oeuvres.”
“Cute,” Jake murmured, amused. He gestured for a footman and inclined his head toward the sign. “Bring a tray of your best.”
Dora overheard and grinned. “I appreciate that. You two in a hurry, or just kindhearted?”
Jake propped a hip on the desk. “No one has ever accused me of being kindhearted.”
“Which leaves…in a hurry,” the clerk said with a laugh. “Well, it just so happens you’ve caught me during a lull. Let’s see what I can do.” With a speed that left Wynne breathless, Dora whipped through the formalities. Completing the paperwork, she explained each in detail and handed them a pretty blue-and-white envelope. “Give these forms to whomever you choose to officiate the ceremony. The gold sealed certificate is a souvenir, for decoration only. You can frame it, hang it on your wall or throw darts at it for all I care. But it’s not a legal document, so don’t go trying to palm it off as one.”
“No problem,” Jake said. “Thanks for your help.”
“My pleasure. Just do me one favor.”
“Sure.”
The clerk held him with a piercing gaze. “Be happy. That’s all I ask. Now go on and get out of here. I’ve got another couple waiting and by the look of the hors d’oeuvres he’s carrying they’re in an even bigger hurry than you two.”
Documents in hand, Jake and Wynne crossed to the salons set aside for the wedding ceremonies. “It seems we have a choice,” she murmured. “Religious, civil…”
“Or anything in between,” Jake finished for her, his voice unexpectedly harsh. “Which do you prefer?”
She glanced at him, about to answer, then caught her breath in dismay. He stood unmoving, his jaw set in rigid lines, his shoulders tensed as though in anticipation of a blow. He dreaded this next part, she realized in dismay. She could see it in the turbulent glitter of his eyes and the rigid line of his mouth. Of all that had gone before, this would be the most difficult for him. Why? she couldn’t help but wonder. What painful memories lay beneath that stoic expression?
Tears of sympathy gathered in her eyes and she blinked to clear them before he noticed. He wouldn’t appreciate her compassion. In fact, it might very well drive him away. If she wanted to help, she’d get this next part over with as quickly as possible. She sighed. All her life she’d dreamt of walking down the aisle of her hometown church. At the very least she’d hoped for a quiet, religious service, its simplicity both moving and memorable. Now she knew she’d have neither. It would be asking too much.
“Why don’t we have a civil ceremony,” she suggested gently.
Jake nodded in agreement, relief easing the tension consuming him. He led the way into the appropriate salon, hesitating once inside the room. A frown creased his brow. She looked around, wondering what had caused his displeasure. The room was decorated in an elegant, if rather formal fashion, a pale blue silk couch and chairs grouped at one side of the room with small dried flower arrangements gracing the walnut end tables. At the opposite side a podium stood in front of drawn drapes, a justice of the peace officiating an unpretentious ceremony.
“Is there something wrong?” she whispered.
His frown deepened. “Let’s take a look at the other rooms.” He didn’t wait for her response, but turned and led the way to the next salon.
Wynne stepped through the open doorway of this room and caught her breath in delight, feeling as if she’d just escaped from the bleakness of a wintery landscape into the comforting warmth of a summer evening.
Subdued lighting flickered across a vaulted ceiling trimmed in cypress wood, a bank of windows stretching across one full wall of the room. Brass containers lined the base of the windows, overflowing with fresh flowers, their heady scent filling the air. And in the middle stood the altar. Vivaldi played softly in the background like a benediction, and in that moment she knew. She wanted to be married here. It was the perfect place for a perfect wedding.
“We could look at the other rooms,” she offered reluctantly. “See what other choices are available.”
Jake shook her head. “No need. This will do.”
Once again they’d arrived during a lull and the elderly minister motioned for them to approach the altar. She could see their reflection in the windows, pale and ghostly. And she could see beyond the glass, to a midnight sky lit by the moon and stars. Far below, the fairy lights twinkled among the trees and shrubs.
“It’s like standing between heaven and earth,” she whispered, tucking her hand into the crook of Jake’s arm.
The minister smiled at her comment. “It is, isn’t it? I think this is my favorite room for just that reason. Do you wish to be married?” he asked.
“Yes, please,” Wynne said, as Jake handed over the neces
sary papers.
“Before we start I’m required to ask that you give careful consideration to what you’re about to do,” the minister began, his gentle blue eyes turning somber. “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.”
Wynne turned and stared into Jake’s eyes. They had darkened in color to a deep, rich shade of honey, all emotion held carefully in check. He was such a bewildering contradiction, she thought. He confronted the world with uncompromising aggression, with a fierceness that defied resistance. Even his eyes were those of a wild animal, spirited and untamed and predatory. And yet his face suggested an austere nature, his expression stern and unapproachable, giving even the most combative personalities pause. He made his home in darkness and shadow, and she wondered if some painful incident in his past had forced him to turn his back on the light of human warmth.
Or was it that he wanted people to think the worst? came the stunning thought. Not that she ever could.
She offered a reassuring smile. He might intimidate some, but she’d sensed the goodness he worked so hard to conceal. From the moment she’d first seen him, she’d sensed his strength of character, his innate decency and had known he’d make the perfect husband. She’d been so worried that the man she selected would be getting the raw end of the deal, that she would be receiving far more. But with Jake there was no cause for concern. She could give him his dream—his inheritance. Better yet, she could give him what he lacked most in life…love.
She glanced toward the minister. Was she certain of her choice? Without question. The answer was yes.
Jake stared at the woman clinging to his arm and then at the minister, dread balling in the pit of his stomach. Was he certain of his choice? Without question. The answer was no.
He found Wynne a bewildering contradiction—soft and sweet, and yet surprisingly sensuous. Her smile alone made him lose every thought in his head. She was a glorious mix of fire and innocence—a volatile combination. He frowned, realizing he hadn’t been so rattled by a woman since adolescence. That alone should make him wary.
But what disturbed him the most were her eyes. A vivid green, they appeared as open and compelling as a child’s. They shone with an inner purity his touch would surely corrupt. Worse, they held a shrewdness that swept past all barriers, that stripped bare the blackness of his soul. He didn’t understand it. If she saw him so clearly, why did she stay? He glanced at her again, stared into those huge, beautiful eyes, and what he saw made his chest tighten.
She may have agreed to temporary, but her eyes promised forever.
“Have you reached a decision?” the minister asked.
Jake started to answer, to end the farce before it went any further, but then realized he wasn’t the one being addressed. Apparently the minister didn’t doubt that Wynne would make an acceptable bride. No. His concern was whether the bride would regret saddling herself with such an unlikely husband. It shouldn’t surprise him.
“Please begin the ceremony,” Wynne said, perfectly calm and collected. Perfectly willing.
For an instant, Jake wavered between making the noble choice by backing out…or remaining silent and letting her pay the ultimate price for her folly by marrying her. He gritted his teeth, torn. How could he allow her to commit such an ill-advised act? This marriage wouldn’t be fair to her. She wouldn’t get anything out of it—except a wealth of heartache. And he’d caused enough heartache without inflicting anymore.
What about the inheritance? a relentless voice questioned. If he didn’t marry Wynne, his chances of finding another bride before the deadline were next to nil. Besides, he wanted her. He wanted her in his bed and in his home. In that moment, he wanted her almost as much as he did his inheritance.
And then it was too late, the choice taken from him.
“I do,” he heard her say.
She smiled up at him as she said it, her eyes shining, trapping him in a pool of glorious green sunshine. He stared back, his own responses to the minister barely registering.
“Before I pronounce you man and wife, would you care to exchange rings? We have them on hand,” the minister offered, peering at them from over his spectacles. “They’re tokens, really. Just something to use until you’re able to replace them with the genuine article.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Jake replied, digging into his pocket and pulling out a simple gold band. He’d picked an average-size ring, but to his amusement, it proved far too large, forcing Wynne to make a fist in order to keep it on. Not that it seemed to bother her.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “I’ll treasure it forever.”
“You’ll treasure it for the brief length of our marriage,” he retorted in a hard voice.
But she shook her head, leveling him with another of those bewitching smiles as sensuous as it was innocent. “No. I’ll treasure this ring for the rest of my life because it’s given me everything I’ve always wanted.” Then her brow wrinkled in concern. “But what about you? Where’s your ring?”
“I don’t need one.” Their marriage was a temporary measure, not worthy of a ring to symbolize the event.
Understanding dawned in her eyes and with that understanding came a terrible sadness, one that totally devastated his defenses.
And as the minister pronounced them husband and wife, Jake realized he was in deep, deep trouble.
Wynne knelt on the carpet, eyeing the hotel door in disgust. For the tenth time she stabbed the card into the locking mechanism and for the tenth time a red button flashed its rejection.
“Whatever happened to keys?” she muttered. “I liked keys. And keys liked me. At least they unlocked the—” The door opened and she practically tumbled into the room.
Laura stood there, dressed in a nightgown and robe. “Oh, thank goodness! I thought I heard you. I was getting worried,” she exclaimed, then frowned in concern. “What were you doing on the floor?”
“I was trying to get this stupid thing to work,” Wynne said, holding up the card key as she struggled to her feet.
Laura froze, staring at Wynne’s hand. “You’re wearing a ring! You did it, didn’t you? You’re married.”
“Yes, I’m married,” Wynne said with a smile, wriggling her fingers so the light flickered across her wedding band. It slid off her knuckle and she hastened to push it back in place. “Oh, Laura, I’m so glad you came with me. Now I can tell you all about him. He’s wonderful. He’s everything I’d hoped.”
Laura grinned, tears leaping to her eyes. “I’m so relieved. I’ve spent the night worrying that some fasttalking rat would take advantage of you. Who is he? What does he do? How old is he?”
Wynne stared at her blankly. “I…I’m not sure. But, his name is Jake…Jake…Good grief. Considering we’re married, you’d think I’d remember his last name,” she muttered. “Oh, never mind. His name’s not all that important. It’s Jake something-or-other.”
Laura’s tears evaporated, along with her smile. “Jake something-or-other? You can’t remember your own husband’s name and you don’t think that’s important?” she questioned ominously.
“No. What is important is that he’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. And he’s the sweetest man in the world.” She hesitated. “Well…To be honest, I suppose he isn’t all that sweet. No, sweet’s the wrong word.”
Laura groaned. “What’s the right word?”
“Tough. Strong.” Wynne smiled cheerfully. “Hard as nails would be a pretty accurate description. Mrs. Marsh doesn’t stand a chance against him.”
“Hard as nails, huh? That’s good. I guess,” Laura said with a marked lack of enthusiasm. “Where is he from?”
Wynne shrugged. “I never thought to ask. Someplace further down south, I think. He has an accent—or rather a drawl.”
“I don’t believe this! You don’t remember his name, never bothered to ask where he’s from, or what he do
es for a living. Nor do you know how old he is. Is it just me or is there something wrong with this picture?” She tightened the belt of her bathrobe and glared at Wynne. “What, precisely, do you know about this man? Why does he need a wife?”
Wynne smiled in relief. “Now that one I can answer. He needs a wife in order to keep his inheritance.”
“And what’s his inheritance?”
“I…I don’t know. Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters! What if—” Laura paused, her eyes narrowing. “There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”
Wynne peeked at her friend from beneath her lashes. “I’d really rather not say.”
“I’d really rather you did.” Laura folded her arms across her chest. “Please. Tell me. What are you hiding?”
“Just wait until you meet him. You’ll think he’s perfect, too,” Wynne hastened to assure. “And he’s a good man, though I suspect he wouldn’t agree.”
“He wouldn’t agree? Wynne! What sort of person did you marry? Tough, hard, strong. He sounds like some sort of brute. And you still haven’t answered my question. What have you left out?”
Wynne cleared her throat. “Not much. And he’s not a brute! He’s the kind of man who can take care of Mrs. Marsh. He’s more than a match for her, even if he only wants a temporary marriage.” She could see this latest piece of news didn’t go over well.
Laura looked stunned. “A temporary marriage? You spent all your money on a temporary marriage? I can’t believe this! What happens when it ends? You’ll be right back where you started. No job. No money. No place to live. How will that help? Mrs. Marsh still wins and you’ll have gone through all this for nothing.”
“Jake won’t let that happen,” Wynne insisted stubbornly. “He says he isn’t interested in a permanent relationship, but I think he’ll change his mind.”
“You’re willing to gamble everything on a bunch of maybes? You’re willing to risk losing—”
“I won’t lose a thing,” Wynne interrupted, her voice sharper than she’d intended. She took a deep breath, fighting for composure. “Please, Laura. Let’s not argue. This is my wedding night, and I’m so happy. Wait until you meet him. You’ll see what I mean. You’ll understand why I’m so certain he’s the right man.”