Winter Wedding In Vegas

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“I hate it when you’re right.”

Nina squealed again. “So, you’re going to do it? You’re going to let your hair down and rock Dr. Sain’s world?”

She wasn’t so sure she could rock his world, but he had seemed to enjoy the night before. They had been hot.

“I’m not sure I know how to let loose anymore,” she admitted, positive it was true. She enjoyed life, but all her free time did revolve around Gracie. “And I didn’t say you were right that I should let my hair down. Just that what you were saying wasn’t what I wanted to hear.”

“You want me to tell you that you should hightail it back home and file for divorce without indulging in some fun with your husband first?”

File for divorce. Pressure squeezed her heart. People in her family didn’t divorce. They didn’t get pregnant out of wedlock and they didn’t marry virtual strangers in Vegas and they didn’t divorce. That was her family.

But she would be three for three because she would be filing for divorce. To pretend otherwise was ridiculous. She and Slade had suffered lapses of judgement, clouded by lust and alcohol. That much she could admit to. She’d wanted him last night. When he’d kissed her, she’d melted and forgotten everything but him.

“I’m waiting for an answer.”

Taylor’s grip on her cell phone tightened. “I’m a mother, Nina. Regardless of what I want, I can’t just go around indulging in fun whenever I want to. It’s not that I don’t want to indulge in fun, because I do.” Oh, how she wanted to imbibe more of Slade. “He was amazing. An affair with him would be amazing, but I need to end this without doing anything that might complicate things.”

“Too late. Things are already complicated.”

Taylor’s gaze shot to the open hotel room door and the man who stood there. Crap. When had he opened the door and how much had he overheard?

“Sorry, Nina, but I’ve got to go.” Her gaze latched on to Slade’s and she refused to look away even when that’s what she wanted to do. How was it he made her feel so on edge with just a look? “My husband just walked in.”

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_5f0902d7-0545-5920-a4b1-cb9d100d8ffe)

FRUSTRATED, SLADE STARED at the woman lying on the bed. Clicking off her phone, Taylor slowly rose to a sitting position. Which was exactly where he’d left her.

She’d left the hotel room, though. He’d gone to a presentation, had sensed her sneaking into the meeting room and had turned to catch her sliding into a seat in the back of the auditorium. When the meeting had ended, he’d glanced her way. She’d been gone.

He’d forced himself to go to all the programs he’d marked on his agenda, even though he’d had a difficult time staying focused on what the presenters had been saying. At noon, he’d had an interview with Grandview Pharmaceuticals, the company that owned Interallon and that was renowned for their headway in the fight against cancer.

John Cordova, the older man who’d interviewed him, had commented on how they needed someone dependable, someone able to make long-term commitments, to see things through, to fill the position. The man had then congratulated him on his recent marriage.

Slade had withheld the fact that his marriage wasn’t a long-term commitment but a mistake. He’d gotten the impression that a divorce so quickly following his marriage wouldn’t have won him any brownie points in Cordova’s eyes.

His phone call with his father played through his head. His father was going to be so disappointed in him when he told him the truth.

His temple throbbed ever so slightly. He found himself wishing he could lie on the bed beside Taylor, talk to her about the interview, about his goals and dreams, about his mother and how much he missed her, about the concern in his father’s voice and how he hadn’t had the heart to tell him that his marriage was over before it even started either. He wanted to talk with her the way they had the night before because talking to her, being with her, had felt so right.

Too bad Taylor was staring at him as if he were a serial killer.

Last night had been different. When she’d looked at him, he’d seen something more. That something more had triggered some kind of insanity. She’d wanted to have sex with him, and that knowledge had shot madness into his veins. She’d challenged him with her condition about marriage and, gazing into her eyes, he’d lost his mind and the ability to walk away from the temptation she’d offered.

He had the feeling that before all was said and done, his insanity was going to cost him a lot more than he’d bargained for.

She cleared her throat, reminding him that he had been staring at her for way too long.

“I need to change for the dinner program.”

A semiformal conference farewell that was more socializing than anything else.

“That’s fine.” She watched him from behind her big glasses, which he’d really like to lift off her face so he could better read her expression.

“Not really, but I guess for the next day we don’t have a choice. The hotel is sold out and I don’t plan to move to another hotel.”

She nodded as if she’d already known. Perhaps she’d called the front desk and asked.

Slade had never been an awkward kind of person. Usually, he could come up with something funny to say, something to smooth over any situation. This wasn’t any ordinary situation, though. This was him standing in a hotel room with his wife, whom he didn’t want to be his wife and neither did she want to be his wife.

He raked his fingers through his hair then, shrugged.

“I’ll just grab my suit and change.” He opened the closet door and removed a garment bag. “I’ll hurry in the bathroom so I won’t interfere with you getting ready. If you’re going, that is.”

“I’m going.”

He nodded and turned toward the bathroom.

“With you.”

He paused, but didn’t turn around. “Why?”

“As far as the world is concerned, we’re happy newlyweds. If we go separately, we’ll have to answer too many questions. I don’t know about you, but I’ve dealt with enough questions about our marriage already today.”

Slade looked up at the ceiling, counted to ten, then turned. “That’s my fault. I’m sorry. You’re right. I prefer not to raise questions, but even if we’re together, people are going to be curious.”

“You’re right, but at least if we’re together we can keep our story straight.”

“I won’t lie to anyone who asks about us.”

“You’re going to tell people that you married me so you could have sex with me?”

When she said it out loud, he agreed the reason sounded ridiculous. Still...

“Isn’t that why most men get married?” he said, fighting to keep his tone light. “Because they want to have sex with the woman they are marrying? I definitely want to have sex with you, Taylor.”

“I suppose so,” she responded, ignoring his last comment. “Or we could just tell them that we were drunk and didn’t realize what we were doing.”

He certainly hadn’t been thinking clearly, but he distinctly recalled exchanging vows with her, promising to care for her forever, to cherish her and yet they were planning to end things before they’d even got started.

He stared at her, wishing he could read whatever was running through that sharp mind of hers. “Shall we tell them we married because we were drunk or because we wanted to have sex?”

Her gaze darted about the room as if seeking the answer somewhere within the four walls. Finally, she shrugged. “Take your pick. Both are true.”

* * *

Taylor pulled her dress out of the closet. Her gaze settled on Slade’s clothes hanging next to hers.

Other than her father, she’d never lived with a man, so seeing the mix of Slade’s belongings with hers had her pausing, had her eyes watering up again.

What an emotional roller coaster she rode.

Her safe, secure world felt as if it was crumbling around her.

She’d quit taking chances years ago. Had quit living in some ways. Oh, she lived through Gracie, but what about for herself? Nina was right. She didn’t do anything for herself, just lived in a nice controlled environment where she planned for all contingencies.

Too bad she hadn’t had a backup plan for an unexpected Vegas Christmas wedding.

While Slade was in the bathroom, she changed into her dress, took her hair down from its tight pin-back and pulled it up into a looser hold. She had her contacts in her purse, but wasn’t sure what it would say if she put them in when she almost always wore her glasses.

How ridiculous was she being? What did it matter what she looked like?

Still, she dug in her purse and put in her contacts. She was just blinking them into place when Slade stepped out of the bathroom.

Wearing only his suit pants.

Taylor’s body responded to his bare chest like a Pavlov dog to its stimulus. The man was beautiful.

And hers.

Not for long, but at this moment Slade Sain was hers more than any other man had ever been.

Just as she was his more than any other woman had ever been his.

Maybe.

She frowned because she really didn’t know that to be true. “Have you been married before?”

Her question obviously caught him off guard. “No. Why? Have you? Never mind, silly question with that one-guy thing. You haven’t.”

“No, I haven’t,” she agreed, averting her gaze from his intense blue one. “I just wondered if you had.”

Despite the tension between them, he grinned with wry humor. “Wondering if I make marrying a habit?”

Exactly. “Something like that.”

He slipped his crisp blue shirt on one arm at a time, then buttoned his cuffs. “I’ve never been married before.” He paused, stared at her with a serious look. “I’ve never even contemplated marriage.”

Her feet wanted to shuffle but she somehow kept them still. “Why not?”

Smoothing out his shirt, he shrugged. “I have other plans for my life besides a wife, two point five kids and a white picket fence.”

Her chest spasmed at just how different they really were, because once upon a time she’d dreamed of being a wife with kids and that proverbial white picket fence. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We’re human and made a mistake. People do it all the time.”

He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t know. So why did his words shoot arrows into her chest? “Not me. Not like this.” She winced. “I mean, obviously I have made mistakes before, but I thought I’d learned better than to make this kind.”

“Marrying me makes you realize you haven’t evolved as far as you’d hoped?”

“Something like that. We were practically strangers and got married.” Sighing, she closed her eyes. “Before last night you probably didn’t even know my eye color.”

“I knew.”

His answer was so quick, so confident, that she couldn’t question the truth of his response.

Staring at him, she asked, “How?”

He shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “I know more about you than you seem to think.”

“Like what?”

“Like how much you love coffee.”

She rolled her eyes. “Lots of people love coffee, so that’s just a generic assumption that could be said about a high percentage of the population.”