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Blind Luck Bride
Laura Marie Altom


I bet a thousand dollars and my truck that I'll be married by Saturday. –Finn Reilly, jilted bridegroomHe needed a wife fast. So when lovely Lilly Churchill walked in, all dressed in bridal white, Finn married her before she could say, "I don't." Then he learned Lilly thought he was someone else–a fiance she'd met by e-mail!Disaster-prone Lilly should have known she'd marry the wrong man. Except…Finn's heated kisses felt so right. Crazy as it seemed, their whirlwind marriage might have been the luckiest mistake ever. But Lilly hadn't told Finn why she'd gotten married–and the precious, growing secret couldn't be kept much longer!







“Who said ours would be a loveless marriage?” Lilly asked

When Finn said nothing, she continued. “The past few days you’ve shown me in a hundred tiny ways what kind of man you are. I love the way you buy ice cream for the neighbors’ kids. I love how you cared for me when I was sick. You’re constantly caring for everyone around you, Finn Reilly but never for yourself. Well, you know what?”

“What?”

“It’s about time someone started caring for you. And I nominate…me.” Lilly kissed him. Softly at first, testing. But then he groaned. Leaning back, he pulled her on top of him.

Finn sighed. “I know this may sound crazy, but knowing you’re one hundred percent committed to our marriage does amazing things to me.”

“Oh, Finn…” Tell him about the baby, Lilly’s conscience urged. Before it’s too late.


Dear Reader,

Welcome to Harlequin American Romance, where you’re guaranteed heartwarming, emotional and deeply romantic stories set in the backyards, big cities and wide-open spaces of America. Kick starting the month is Cathy Gillen Thacker’s Her Bachelor Challenge, which launches her brand-new family-connected miniseries THE DEVERAUX LEGACY. In this wonderful story, a night of passion between old acquaintances has a sought-after playboy businessman questioning his bachelor status.

Next, Mollie Molay premieres her new GROOMS IN UNIFORM miniseries. In The Duchess & Her Bodyguard, protecting a royal beauty was easy for a by-the-book bodyguard, but falling in love wasn’t part of the plan! Don’t miss Husbands, Husbands…Everywhere! by Sharon Swan, in which a lovely B & B owner’s ex-husband shows up on her doorstep with amnesia, giving her the chance to rediscover the man he’d once been. This poignant reunion romance story is the latest installment in the WELCOME TO HARMONY miniseries. Laura Marie Altom makes her Harlequin American Romance debut with Blind Luck Bride, which pairs a jilted groom with a pregnant heroine in a marriage meant to satisfy the terms of a bet.

Best,

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin American Romance


Blind Luck Bride

Laura Marie Altom






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For Margaret Daley, Mary Jane Morgan, Cathy Morgan, Judy Pelfrey and Ada Sumner—the best plot doctors and friends a girl could ever have. Oh, and thanks for helping out with that demonic hero thing, too!

For Crystal Stovall, Karen Crane and Genell Dellin—thanks for the breakfasts, lunches and hugs!

And finally, for Lilly, the wriggling, licking, gnawing dachshund princess of the Alisch family. This book is especially for you, sweetie, because like the heroine in this book you’re constantly finding trouble, but you’re so cute we let you get away with it…most of the time.




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


After college (Go Hogs!), Laura Marie Altom did a brief stint as an interior designer before becoming a stay-at-home mom to boy/girl twins. Always an avid romance reader, Laura knew it was time to try her hand at writing when she found herself replotting the afternoon soaps. She has written three romances for another publisher. This is her first Harlequin American Romance novel.

When not writing, Laura enjoys a glamorous lifestyle of lounging by a pool that’s always in need of cleaning, zipping around in a convertible while trying to keep her dog from leaping out, and is constantly striving to reach the bottom of the laundry basket—a feat she may never accomplish! For real fun, Laura is content to read, do needlepoint and cuddle with her handsome hubby.

Laura loves hearing from readers at either P.O. Box 2074, Tulsa, OK 74101, or e-mail: BaliPalm@aol.com (mailto:BaliPalm@aol.com).










Contents


Chapter One (#u19e88eda-38f4-5f6a-8e7b-fccaf3444b94)

Chapter Two (#ufdd9bba2-25c2-5741-8329-6a871d07c99c)

Chapter Three (#u942eb333-458f-5a7d-b6c2-1574b6e18136)

Chapter Four (#u4e93db1e-041b-5d5d-b0a7-a980f4767857)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter One


“Mitch, you’re just as dumb as you look. Why, I could find another bride just like that.” Before taking another swig of his long-neck beer, Finn Reilly snapped his fingers to emphasize just how easy the task would be.

Good Lord, hadn’t he already been through enough today by being jilted at the altar? So why was Mitch Mulligan, his biggest contracting competitor and pain in his neck still giving him grief? Maybe if he closed his eyes, the three-hundred-pound genetic throwback to the woolly mammoth would vanish. Just in case, Finn blinked.

Damn, his bad luck hadn’t changed.

“Oh yeah?” Mitch said—and his beer breath—in Finn’s face. “Well, I’m gettin’ sick and tired of you thinkin’ you’re so hot with the women ’round here, Reilly.”

“That’s ’cause you’re jealous.”

“Ha! Jealous of what? The way your pretty little filly practically galloped out of that church to get away from you?”

Finn rolled his beer bottle across his throbbing forehead. Why did everyone keep bringing up the speed with which Vivian had left the church? While she’d vroomed into the sunset with that leather-wearing, motorcycle-riding bandit she met at the Department of Motor Vehicles, Finn had stood abandoned at the altar. Now honestly, did it seem as if he’d been at fault for their troubles?

Why couldn’t everyone at Lu’s Bar remember he was the injured party?

“Well, Reilly?” Mitch said. “What’ve you got to say for yourself?”

“Look, Mulligan.” Matt Marshall, Finn’s best friend since junior high, hollered above the dart-throwing, off duty firemen. “Give the guy a break. Can’t you see he’s in pain?”

“Pain? Pain?” Mitch laughed so hard he spouted beer all over the bar. “Oh, now that’s ripe. I always knew you were the prissy type, Reilly, but Matt here just gave me proof.”

“Can it,” Matt said. “My bud, Reilly, is no more prissy than your mother.”

“What’d you say about my mother?” Despite his size, Mitch scrambled to his feet in two-point-five seconds. “Nobody insults my mother without—”

A loud whistle came from behind the bar.

Finn winced.

Crazy Lu and her settle-down-boys banshee blast were landmarks in the small town of Greenleaf, Utah. She’d owned the burger and beer joint for as long as anyone could remember and while she put up with a lot of things, fights weren’t one of them. “Mitch Mulligan, either take it outside or take it up with me.” White-haired Lu couldn’t have topped five feet wearing heels and a tiara, but the row of ornery guys standing at the bar backed down as if their own mothers had issued the command.

Everyone, that is, except for the woolly mammoth. “Oh now, Lu, don’t go gettin’ your panties in a wad.”

“How do you even know I wear panties, Mitch? I agree with Matt. Just this once, give Reilly a break. Here,” she shoved a paper plate heaped with orange-rose-laden wedding cake across the bar. “Put some food in your belly. It’ll make you feel better. You prob’ly got gas from all that beer. It’s makin’ you nasty as a three-headed rattler.”

“I don’t want any cake and I’m always this nasty. The only thing I want a piece of is that punk sittin’ over there shaking in his boots.”

“Fine.” She winked Finn’s way. “Then make him a good honest bet. Just don’t mess up his pretty face for the next girl in line for his kisses.”

“Why, thank you, sweetheart.” Finn winked boldly. At least someone loved him, even if it wasn’t the stacked redhead he’d planned to be loving right about now.

“Sure thing, angel.”

Mitch snorted. “Angel, my—”

“Watch it,” Lu warned.

“Ha. All I wanna watch is how much crow Reilly here eats when he loses this bet.” Mitch pulled a wad of cash from the front pocket of his dingy jeans, peeled off ten hundred-dollar bills, then smacked them on the bar. “All right, pretty boy. I’ve got a thousand bucks—my entire payroll—says there’s no way you can find another woman stupid enough to marry you by the end of the week.”

“Mulligan,” Lu warned. “There’s families depending on that pay. Don’t go bettin’ away their suppers.”

With a wave of one of the massive paws he called hands, he brushed her off. “This here’s a sure bet. No one’s gonna lose but ol’ Reilly here. And seein’ how he just got the contract on that fancy new highway motel, he’s got plenty of cash to spare.”

Finn rolled his eyes. Was Mulligan ever going to get over the fact that Finn’s Custom Building consistently got more jobs than AAA Construction?

“Whatsa matter, pretty boy? Too chicken to take me up on a bet you know you’re gonna lose?”

That’s it. Finn slammed his bottle on the bar, then grappled to his feet.

Nobody called him prissy, pretty boy and chicken all on the same night—especially not when his own aunt had called him a poor, sweet thing just that afternoon. “By God, Mulligan, I’ll not only take you up on that bet—” he pulled honeymoon cash from the chest pocket of his tux, counting out a grand before smacking it beside Mitch’s “—but I’ll raise the stakes by throwing in my truck.”

“Finn,” Lu said. “You’re a bright boy. Be sensible. This is marriage we’re talkin’ about. A lifetime commitment—not to mention a brand spankin’ new black Chevy.”

“All respects, ma’am, but stay out of it—and I’m far from a boy.” He took another swig of beer. “I’m Grade A, genuine, M-A-N. And if it takes a stupid bet to prove any woman would be thrilled to marry me, then by God, bettin’ is what I’ll do.” He shoved the pile of money toward Lu. “Sweetheart, hold on to this until next Saturday night. If I’m not back wearin’ a ring by then…well, then you’d better give all that cash to old ugly over there.” He gestured to Mitch. “He’ll be needin’ it to pay for my funeral, ’cause one thing’s for sure…”

“What’s that?”

“If I’m not married by Saturday, I must be stone-cold dead.”

“NO, NO, NO,” Lilly Churchill cried, stomping her white satin pumps in frustration. Unfortunately, all that fussing raised a dust cloud, which caused her to sneeze, which in turn caused her to need a tissue—a tissue that was in her purse.

On the front seat.

Snuggled alongside her keys.

Keys to the car she’d just securely locked.

“Not now,” she said to an audience of a million twinkling stars. “Not when I was for once getting things right.” Hot tears threatened to spill, but she stoically held them back. This was not the time for a crying binge.

Hiking her heavy white skirts, she teetered across the restaurant’s gravel lot.

So, on the eve of her wedding she’d locked her keys in the car? Big deal.

It wasn’t an omen that her marriage was doomed. After all, look what’d happened at her big sister Mary’s wedding, and four years later, her marriage was still going strong.

Yeah, her conscience butted in, but don’t forget you were the cause of Mary and her three bridesmaids arriving over two hours late for her ceremony.

And how Robby the groom freaked out because he thought Mary had cold feet. And speaking of cold—remember how the delay caused the reception caterers to run out of Sterno to heat their hot wings, mini-pizzas, and quiches? Ick. To this day, Lilly could still taste the congealed grease.

Her brothers—and even Mary—assured their baby sister that running out of gas on the way to the ceremony hadn’t been her fault. That the old Nova’s gas gauge had always been cranky—especially below an eighth of a tank. But no matter how many times Lilly told herself the mishap could have happened to anyone, she knew that simply wasn’t true.

How? From the disappointment in her mom and dad’s eyes. From the looks that said how could such a rotten apple have landed in their perfect bushel?

The truth of the matter was that her sister’s wedding wasn’t the first time Lilly had seen those looks. They’d been there when she dropped out of the University of Utah after her first semester. They’d been there every time she’d lost her retainer, left the milk out, forgotten to take out the trash or feed the dog, bombed a high school final, missed curfew or lost a job. The list went on and on.

For Lilly’s whole life, her older, overachieving, straight-A brothers and sisters had done their best to cover up for her when she failed. They’d treated her like a pet they hated to see punished, but now that all of them were busy leading fabulous careers and marriages, she felt lost and alone in trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. She thought she knew, but then this whole mess had happened with Elliot, and now…

Now all she wanted to do was make her troubles go away—a goal easily enough accomplished by marrying Dallas. But then what? Would her parents view her marriage as just another bandage? Or, as for the first time in her twenty-five years, her way of taking responsibility for her biggest ever blunder?

FINN CRADLED his forehead in his hands.

Ugh, had he truly drunk all six of the long-necks standing like a row of not-so-pretty maidens on the bar?

The queasy churning in his gut, not to mention the sour taste on his tongue, told him that, yes, not only had he downed all those beers, but he’d downed them in a hurry.

What was the matter with him? He knew better than to drink like that—especially over a woman, but darn it all, he was ready to settle down. Seemed like he’d been ready ever since his parents and sister died when he was eight.

This afternoon he’d been damned close to making his dream of starting over with a new family finally come true, but then Vivian had pulled her disappearing act. Not only had she ruined their wedding by walking out right in the middle of it, but she’d stolen their honeymoon tickets to Cancun.

At the very least, he and Matt could have been toasting Finn’s sorrows beachside instead of in this stinkin’ bar.

He raised his head to look around.

For eleven o’clock on Halloween night, the crowd had grown thin. Old Judge Crawford sat in his usual booth in the corner, and Betty and Bob Bristow, the county’s finest line dancers, two-stepped to a honky-tonk tune blaring from the jukebox. They made a cute couple in their alien costumes. Doc Walsh and her house husband wore hospital whites—Mr. Walsh wearing a not-too-flattering nurse’s cap and gown.

Though not a single patron currently held a cigarette, a thick haze clung to the renovated barn’s ceiling, accompanied by the smell of one too many grease fires.

Finn shook his head.

Yep, after today, he was supposed to have been living the good life. Eating plenty of home-cooked meals. Getting back rubs. Indulging in stimulating conversation and—

What the…

A woman—no, an angel—stood at the red vinyl door. Dressed in a gown of gossamer-white, carrying a bouquet of full pink roses, she looked ready to star in a wedding.

Even worse—or maybe better—she was headed his way.

“Excuse me?” she asked, her melodic voice about as loud as a marshmallow being dropped on a cloud. “But…are you by any chance…”

“Waiting to get married?” This had to be a joke. Mulligan had to have sent her.

“Yes, me too. I’m Lilly and you must be Dallas.”

Dallas?

She held out her hand. A tiny, white-gloved affair that when he briefly gripped it, felt lost in Finn’s palm. Lilly. Such a fitting name for this delicate flower of a woman.

A rush of protectiveness flooded his system.

But wait a minute…Since Mitch had obviously hired this woman to mess with Finn’s head, why should he feel anything for her, let alone protective?

Giving the blonde a cool appraisal, in his mind’s eye, Finn unfurled the enemy’s master plan. Mitch must have met this “bride” at a buddy’s Halloween party, then bribed her to feign interest in Finn. Hell, maybe he’d even paid her enough to pretend she was actually going to marry him, then, just when Finn wagged a marriage license in the mammoth’s ugly face, Mitch would drop his bomb that this angel was no bride, but someone he hired to cause Finn to lose the bet! To most folks’ way of thinking, Finn would have won by marrying, but Mitch wasn’t most folks. Mitch was crafty—wily enough to deduce that if Finn wed a bride who was lying about her name, then the marriage wouldn’t be legal. Thus causing Finn to lose on a technicality.

And trust Mitch to have not even thought his plan through well enough to tell the woman the name of the guy she was supposed to dupe. “Yep,” Finn said with a knowing smile. “I’m Dallas. That’s me.”

“Thank goodness. I’ve been driving for hours. I never thought I’d find this place.” Her shoulders sagged. “Even now, Dallas, I must say I’m surprised. When you described Luigi’s, I thought it would be a little more…”

Finn followed her sweeping, and maybe even a bit fearful, gaze as it flitted from face to face to land on old drunken Pete who sat half-asleep and mumbling at the other end of the bar.

“You thought this was Luigi’s?” That place was the swankiest restaurant for miles. Swallowing hard, Finn blocked the memory of how beautiful Vivian had looked the night he’d taken her there to propose.

“Well…yes. It is, isn’t it? I saw the L-U-apostrophe-S on the sign.”

“Sure. This is Luigi’s. I’m glad you found it.”

“Me, too.” She licked her lips. Kissable lips. Lips that on a good night could drive a man all the way to distraction.

After the day he’d had, did he feel like going for a ride? Hell, yes.

“So?” she said. “Shouldn’t we get going? I made all the plans. All we have to do is…exchange our vows.” She smoothed the front of her satin gown, looking up at him with impossibly wide, impossibly blue eyes.

He gulped.

Mitch had certainly done his homework in hiring this gal. She was a real pro to have almost had Finn falling for her—almost.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” Lilly said, fighting the urge to flee. When Dallas had said in that morning’s e-mail that he was suit-and-tie handsome, he’d been way off in his description. Deliciously off.

She couldn’t really marry a man like him, could she?

Do I really have a choice? It wasn’t as if guys were lined up around the block waiting to marry a woman in her condition.

“Not come?” He snatched a French fry from a basket on the bar. She tracked his hand all the way to his mouth. A mouth with lips that looked chiseled from the most fascinating stone. “How could I have stayed away from our big day? Or—” another fry in hand, he waved toward a darkened window “—I guess that would be night.”

When he spied her gaze lingering on his mouth, he offered her his latest fry, but she shook her head, flushed with heat at the mere possibility of consuming food that had come so perilously close to his lips.

She cleared her throat. “I, ah, don’t blame you if you’ve changed your mind. I mean, this is kind of sudden.”

“Nonsense.” He swallowed his bite of fry.

“It’s okay. Really. I wouldn’t be too upset if you want to back out.”

“Nope. Not me.”

“Great.” Lilly released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. In the month they’d known each other via the Marriage of Convenience board on Singles com, this was what she liked more every day about Dallas. He was a man driven by convictions. Okay, so he wasn’t marrying her out of love, but his conviction to succeed in his ultraconservative law firm—the same firm that told him he needed a wife—but she was okay with that. All she needed was a husband—the rest would work itself out in time.

“Let’s go,” she said. “I set up the ceremony for ten tomorrow morning, but even driving all night, that doesn’t give us much time.”

“All night? I don’t get it.”

“Vegas. That’s where we’ll be taking our vows. Remember? How you told me your mother always wanted to be married there?”

“Oh.” He conked his temple. “Of course. Mom. The Elvis Chapel. How could I forget?”

“I thought she liked Wayne Newton?”

“Um…Wayne, Elvis, she liked ’em all.”

Lilly drew her lower lip into her mouth and nibbled. As relieved as she’d been only a minute earlier to have finally found her man, something now told her riding off into the night with this virtual stranger wasn’t one of her brighter ideas. It didn’t matter that she and Dallas had talked via e-mail for the better part of a month. His not remembering his own mother’s favorite recording artist concerned her. Where was the man who bragged of having a photographic memory? The man who cited countless statistics on the reasons why arranged marriages were infinitely better than the real thing?

The whisker-stubbled, bona fide stud seated before her surely didn’t give a flip about dry statistics, and he looked as if he’d be far more comfortable listening to a Garth Brooks song than to Aida, his supposedly favorite opera.

Should she ask to see his driver’s license?

No. Too direct. Yes, she needed to verify he was who he said he was, but surely she could think of a less combatant way. She cleared her throat. “I, ah, realize this may sound a tad off the subject, but could you please tell me what my favorite food is?”

His eyes narrowed, and he took a long time before saying in a sexy twang, “Aw, now, angel, you already know that I know what your favorite food is.” He reached for her left hand and rolled down the cuff of her satin glove, exposing the frantically beating pulse on her inner wrist. “Why don’t you ask me something a little tougher….”

Oh my gosh! He was actually drawing her wrist to his mouth! He was—oh no. Oh no, he did not just kiss her on the wrist. As an employee of Tree House Books, she read a lot, but in her favorite novel of all time, Whispered Winds, the hero, Duncan, kissed his bride’s wrist at their third wedding. True, it had taken them three times to get their relationship right, but oh, how right it had finally been. Favorite food be damned. The fact that Dallas remembered how much she adored that scene proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not only who he claimed to be, but that first and foremost, he was the man destined to be her husband.

Closing her eyes, Lilly surrendered to the hot-cold champagne bubbles zinging through her body.

The white-haired woman keeping bar interrupted Lilly’s almost-wedded bliss. “S’cuse me,” she said to Dallas, “but what in tarnation do you think you’re doin’?”

“Mind your own business, Lu, this is my future bride.”

“Isn’t one bride per day enough for you, Fi—”

“That’s it. We’ve gotta go.” Finn nearly fell off his bar stool trying to slip his hand beneath his bride-to-be’s elbow while at the same time shooting Lu a would-you-please-hush look of desperation. By God, if she went and ruined this for him, he’d take her to court to cover the small fortune in cash and pride he’d have to fork over to Mitch. He might be able to handle a lot of bad situations, but voluntarily losing a bet to ornery old Mitch Mulligan wasn’t one of them. He knew it wasn’t neighborly, but he just plain despised the man, and he’d do anything to get the better of him. Even if it meant marrying this loco filly in the morning only to up and divorce her the next afternoon.

While all that sounded real good in theory, a pang of confusion rippled through Finn at the all-too-fresh memory of how badly Vivian had hurt him.

All his life he’d only wanted one thing—to once again be part of a family. So sure, by going through with this marriage, he’d make Mitch look like the fool he was, but in doing that, he’d also be making a mockery of his heart’s lifelong ambition. Was that wise?

A whiff of pretty-as-a-spring-meadow perfume wove its way like a love potion through Finn’s senses. He took one look at the vision in bridal white standing before him and decided what the heck?

He needed to lighten up.

Besides, what was the worst that could happen on a trip to Vegas?




Chapter Two


“Ready, darlin’?” Finn said, low enough so that hopefully Lu wouldn’t hear.

“I sure am.” Lilly waved to the still-gaping older woman. “Bye-bye.”

Lu might have been willing to let the whole incident slide if only Finn’s bride hadn’t—from out of nowhere—burst into tears.

“Now, now,” Lu crooned, zipping around the corner of the bar. “What’s the matter?”

“I—I’m so ha-ha-happy,” Lilly blurted in the same kind of hormonal, nonsensical, downright blithering sobs that had taken over Matt’s sister the day after she found out she was pregnant. “But I’ve waited so long for my wedding day, and Dallas, you’re even more of a gentleman than I’d imagined, but…I just remembered I locked my keys in my car, and…”

Lu’s eagle eyes bored into Finn’s forehead like twin laser beams. After pulling Lilly in close for a hug, she said, “Now, honey, ’round here folks lock themselves out of all sorts of things. Don’t you worry. Your groom knows just what to do.”

Never had Finn wished harder that he lived in a less nosy town.

After a few more minutes of what Finn considered award-winning acting, Lilly calmed down, her smile shining brighter than the chrome on Vivian’s boyfriend’s motorcycle. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t kn-know what came over me, especially when you had such great news about the keys.”

“Emotions’ll do that to a body,” Lu said, lapping up this rare opportunity to cluck over one of her patrons. “How about you visit the little girl’s room. Freshen up while your, ah, groom gets started on your car—if he’s sober enough.”

“That’d be great,” Lilly said through a watery smile. She looked Finn’s way. “You don’t mind the short delay, do you?”

Mind? Hell, yes, he minded. Not only didn’t he like the idea of spending the next hour or so outside with a coat hanger and flashlight, but once he got this human tear-bucket into her car, did that imply driving it and her all the way to Vegas? It was on the tip of his tongue to call off this whole charade when he caught sight of those wide-open skies his bride called eyes. Never had he seen eyes more blue. On manly autopilot, he said, “Ah, sure, I don’t mind. You go on and do whatever you need to and I’ll just be outside.”

“You remember what I drive?” she asked, her voice all breathy, as if his knowing such a fact guaranteed theirs would be a lifelong love.

“Sure, darlin’.” Simple logic tells me it’ll be the only spit-shined sedan in the lot.

More to prove to Lu that he had the woman’s best interests at heart than to satisfy his own blazing curiosity as to the feel of her petal-soft lips, he slipped his free hand about Lilly’s waist and kissed her hard—not too hard—just hard enough to let her know she was in the company of a real man. Mitch Mulligan might be signing her paycheck, but Finn Reilly was calling the shots.

When she seemed good and dazed by his prowess, with a quick pat to her satin-covered behind, he sent her in the direction of the ladies’ room.

But just as he was growing accustomed to the sight of his bride-to-be’s backside, Lu grabbed him by the ear and yanked for all she was worth—not an easy feat considering he was well over a foot taller than she. “You low-life, back-stabbin’, pitiful excuse for a yellow-bellied—”

“Ouch!” he complained, backing out of her reach. “That hurts.”

“Damn straight, it hurts. Almost as much as that alley cat Vivian hurt you this afternoon. Don’t you see what you’re doin’?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. Look, son, and make no mistake, over the years you’ve been comin’ in here, I’ve grown to think of you as my own son. What you could end up doin’ to this girl is the same thing Vivian did to you. You’re gonna lead her on, then dump her. Only at least Vivian dumped you for love. You, on the other hand, will be freein’ yourself up for a truck named Abigail.”

“Slow down, Lu, you don’t know the half of what’s going on.” Challenging her steely gaze with one of his own, he said, “Shoot, Mitch put my bride up to this. That woman’s no innocent. I mean, come on, unless she was being paid darned good money, what would a gal like her be doing in a place like this? No offense.”

“None taken, but, Finn,” she said, sounding all too much like the aunt who had raised him—the same aunt who had been living in Miami, blessedly out of scolding distance, for going on five years. “I don’t know who this girl is, but one thing I do know just from lookin’ at her is that she’s not messed up with Mitch. Maybe she has amnesia or somethin’? All I’m sayin’ is be careful.”

“Lu, like you said, you know me. I’m not planning to hurt anyone.”

“No, I’m sure you’re not, but you be careful anyway, ’cause now that I think about it, the only one gettin’ hurt around here might be you.”

“Ready?” asked the angel in white.

“Yeah, I’m—” Finn looked up, only to have his heart lurch at the sight of her. He’d always fancied himself as preferring redheads, but this blond-haired beauty had brushed her curls into an adorable halo that looped and swirled about the heart-shaped contours of her face. She’d applied a light coat of lipstick that accentuated the faint swelling caused by his kiss. Whew, Mitch sure had improved his taste in women! “I’m ready,” he said. “Sorry I didn’t get a chance to get the car.”

“That’s okay. Once you get the keys out, probably with what you’ve had to drink, it’s better that I drive. We wouldn’t want anything to further delay our trip to the chapel, would we?”

No. Hell no.

To Lu, his angel said, “Ma’am, it was sure nice meeting you, and thank you for—” she held up a wadded pink tissue “—for helping me see that Dallas is the only man for me.”

Upon hearing another man’s name in association with Finn, Lu’s eyebrows shot up like a pair of jack-rabbits scared out of their holes. She looked to him, then the woman in white. “You’re welcome, child. And the only thanks I need is the promise you two will share a lifetime worth of happiness.”

That did it.

His bride’s waterworks started all over again, but this time, she turned to Finn for her hugs. Never had he felt more masculine than holding this petite thing in his arms. Never had he felt more in control. This gal was a mighty fine actress, but no one fooled Finn Reilly. He could smell one of Mitch’s tricks from a mile away.

Once she broke her hug, Finn slipped his arm around her slight waist and led her out of the bar as fast as his black dress boots could scoot.

Outside, feet firmly planted on the pea gravel driveway, his gaze aimed at the stars, Finn gulped gallons of the crisp fall air. Had there ever been a luckier man than he? Yep, having Mitch arrange for this fallen angel to enter his life was just about the best damned shot of blind luck he’d ever had. Winning this bet was not only going to be easy, but a ton of fun.

Confirming that thought, his bride snuggled close, resting her head on his chest. Her soft curls tickled the bottom of his chin. He’d always liked it when a woman fit him—even a woman he was only pretending to like.

He and Vivian had stood eye to eye. She’d been a bad fit.

“Dallas?” Lilly said.

“Yeah?”

“I just want you to know, before tomorrow, that I really appreciate you doing this for me. And…and one day, I hope we’ll not just share a marriage license, but maybe even a special friendship.”

A special friendship? Ugh.

Time to raise the stakes.

“Dallas?”

Not thinking, just doing, Finn cinched her closer, planting his lips atop hers for a powerful kiss.

“Mmm, Dallas,” she said on a sigh that was more of a purr.

She started kissing him back, but the voltage of their second embrace caught Finn off guard and he pulled away.

Nope.

No way had he enjoyed that marathon smooch to the degree his racing heart implied.

To prove he was still in complete control of not only the situation, but his feelings, he kissed his bride-to-be all over again. When she mewed her pleasure, he fought to hold back a moan. Lord, they were good together.

Had he and Vivian ever been like this? Maybe once, or maybe he’d only wished they could be. Damn, what was happening to him? He knew better than to be sucked into the spell of another conniving woman.

“Mmm, Dallas.” She pulled away with a whispery sigh. “I didn’t know that outside of the movies a kiss could be that good.”

They usually weren’t. “Yeah…well, what can I say?”

She smiled and the heartbreaking beauty of it nearly stole the breath from his lungs. “I know what I’d like you to say.”

“What’s that?”

“Ask me to marry you. I’ve read it in your letters, but I’ve never heard you say it. Say it, Dallas. Please.” As strong as Lilly had felt only moments earlier, Dallas’s kiss had left her that weak. Her knees felt rubbery and her chest strangely tight with anticipation and tingling warmth. Was a marriage of convenience supposed to be this much fun?

“How can I ask you to marry me when I don’t know your name?”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, your, ah, full name.”

Thank goodness. Her full name. Of course. She’d almost been back to her original worry that maybe this man wasn’t Dallas after all. “My given name is Lillian Diane Churchill. But, please, feel free to keep on calling me Lilly. There’s no need for you to get formal on me now.”

“Okay, Lilly…” He paused after drawling the l’s. Never before had just hearing her name brought such heady pleasure. “Will you marry me?”

Would she marry him? She’d follow him to the end of the earth and back—that is, assuming he never lied to her. Elliot had lied, and look what she’d gotten from him. That’s why she knew things were going to work out great with Dallas. Their relationship was based upon total honesty.

She licked her lips, took a deep breath and committed every second of this moment to memory. She’d remember the way Dallas smelled, like…well, a little like beer and cigarette smoke, but beneath all that, she detected citrus aftershave and a distinctly delicious scent that was all him—and soon to be all hers! “Yes, Dallas. Of course, I’ll marry you.”

“Good. Then how about you and me getting this show on the road?”

“Mr. Lebeaux, it would be my pleasure.”

“Who’s Mr. Lebeaux?”

“Oh, Dallas,” she said, her giddy laugh carrying across the still night air. “You’re so funny.”

Not so funny, though, was when, a few minutes later, Dallas calmly opened her car’s passenger door to reach for her keys. How could she have been so scatterbrained as to not even check the other door to see if it was unlocked?

“This is embarrassing,” she mumbled. She would have added that since finding out about the baby, she hadn’t been feeling herself, but the problem was that incidents like this were exactly herself. Good grief, she was soon going to be a mother. She had to start being more responsible.

“There you go,” Finn said. Wearing a bemused grin, he handed her a wad of interconnected souvenir key chains. “Guess we’ll chalk this incident up to bridal jitters.”

“I’m afraid it’s more than that,” she said, placing her hand protectively over her tummy.

“Oh? Confession time?”

“Only on the matter that you’re about to wed a misfit. I thought our marriage would instantly transform me, but so far, I guess it hasn’t worked.”

“We’re not hitched yet,” he pointed out. “Maybe saying those all-important vows is all you need to turn your life around?”

“You think?” She looked at him, really looked at the man she would spend the next fifty years with. And what she saw wasn’t just a handsome face and warm, expressive brown eyes, but for the first time in the month they’d corresponded, she saw that perhaps instead of this marriage being the platonic business arrangement she’d expected, there just might be a chance of something more.

THE NEXT MORNING, after finally pulling into the chapel parking lot for some shut-eye, Finn woke to a delicious weight resting on his chest. From his perch behind the wheel—somewhere around one in the morning he’d taken over the driving—he saw a crown of silken gold contrasting with the black wool of his tux. To test if his latest fiancée was real, he looped his finger around one of her baby-fine curls. She shifted and moaned, granting him a breathtaking view of her profile.

Yep, she was real all right. A real knockout.

Let the games continue!

Warm sun beat through the car windows, illuminating honeyed highlights in her eyebrows and lashes. Her lips looked every bit as plump and kissable as they had the night before, and the brief memory of the way that mouth had felt touching his caused a swelling down south that made his pants even more uncomfortable.

As his future bride again stirred against him, spilling the softest of mews, Finn wondered what the hell he was doing? The marriage license they’d obtained near dawn rested heavy in his chest pocket, as did the fact that he’d had to slip the clerk a hundred while Lilly had been in the courthouse bathroom to fill out the document in his real name.

During the night’s long drive, while Lilly softly snored, he’d reconfirmed his belief that her calling him Dallas had to be part of Mitch’s grand scheme. For if Finn were to marry Lilly using a false name—to insure that she didn’t know he was on to her plan—their marriage wouldn’t be legal, thus giving Mitch the right to drive off in Abigail on a technicality. But as usual, Finn was one step ahead of his nemesis.

The one thing Finn hadn’t counted on was being this attracted to his bride. Still, he supposed his attraction to her would add a certain touch of realism to their ceremony—even if it was just pretend.

“Lilly,” he said, deciding the time had come to guarantee his winning the bet. “Hello? Are you ready to tie the knot?”

“Hmm?”

“Hello? Wake up.” He softly tickled behind her right ear. “We’re at the Wayne Newton Chapel, just like you requested.”

She took a second to wake, then eased upright, quickly processing the fact that she’d been using his chest as a pillow. “Sorry,” she said, unaware of the adorable red mark on the left side of her face from where she’d pressed her cheek against his lapel.

“How do you feel?” she asked, scooting to her half of the front seat. From the dashboard, she reached for her bouquet, which had wilted during the night. The heavy scent of fading pink roses filled the air.

“Feel?” Even as he said the word, his head pounded. “Oh right. Feel.” He flashed her a wry grin, hoping his beer breath didn’t smell as bad as it tasted. “Actually, not so hot.”

“You don’t make a habit of drinking that much, do you?”

He shook his head. “Must have been all the excitement.”

“Sure. I understand.” Pulling down the visor, she gazed into a small lighted mirror and pursed her lips into a frown. “Ugh, looks like that drive took even longer than I thought.” She reached to the floorboard for her purse and dove inside, pulling out a tube of lipstick. After giving her lips a pretty sheen, she eyed him funny. “Are you sure you feel up to this?”

“What kind of question is that? You trying to back out on me?”

If he could have bottled the feeling her grin gave him, he’d be a rich man. Gone was his headache and, oddly enough, all his doubts about the vows he was about to take. How the marriage ended they could figure out later. Right now, he planned to enjoy the moment, starting with appreciating his lovely bride.

Her lipstick was the sheerest of pink and, just as she had at Lu’s the night before, she did a fluff-and-tuck routine on her hair that left it a tousled, yet somehow elegant, shoulder-length mess. She capped it with her veil, mesmerizing him with the sight of filmy white lace whispering to flushed cheeks. What was she thinking? Did she find herself in the similarly bizarre situation of being as attracted to him as he was to her?

She lifted her hand to his cheek. Here it came, she was about to tell him how hot she was for him….

“You’ve, um, got something on your face.” His heart plummeted when she brushed at a spot to the left of his nose, then held up a gray lint ball for his inspection. “See? I didn’t want you wearing this in our wedding photos.”

“Right. Ah, me neither.” Damn. Could he have possibly misread that situation more completely? This temptress was so sly that for a second she’d almost made him forget why they were there.

Trying to hide his consternation with both himself and his bride, he fumed out the dusty car window. At dawn, he’d parked the vehicle in an alley they shared with a primer-gray Impala up on blocks and two overfilled Dumpsters. What were the odds that he’d smell motorcycle exhaust at his first wedding, then week-old trash at his second? “So,” he said, rubbing his palms together. “Should we do this thing?”

“You’re sure?”

“Why do I keep getting the feeling you’re not?”

Lilly returned her attention to her purse. “I don’t know…because I don’t feel the slightest bit apprehensive.” Her digging took on a furious pace. Could she really go through with this? Sure, making her parents proud and all was a very big deal, but after what Elliot had put her through, did she feel ready to open her heart to another man?

Whoa.

She scavenged her purse even faster.

Who’d said anything about doing anything with her heart? This was a marriage of convenience. The love-match line formed on the other side of the building.

“What are you looking for?”

“Mints. I’ve got to have mints. I don’t want to say my vows with bad breath.”

Grasping her by the wrists, he stilled her hands, then took them in his. “Lilly, you smell fine, you look beautiful. Trust me, there’s nothing for you to be worried about.”

“Really? I look okay? I don’t look as though I was up all night driving?”

He grinned. “How could you when you’ve been sleeping on me for the better part of the last—” he eyed his watch “—eight hours. It would have been nine, but remember when we dealt with that pesky business of getting our license?”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot. So I slept all that time?”

“Peaceful as a baby.”

Smoothing the front of her gown, she said, “Yes, well…”

Finn’s stomach took a dive. Was she thinking of backing out? She’d better not. He had a lot at stake. Not only a brand-new truck that wasn’t even paid for, but a massive amount of pride. He had to win this bet. Still, maybe if she was getting cold feet, he should take it easy on her, act as if he had all the time in the world for them to make their vows. “Maybe we should wait?” he suggested. “We could get a room. You could take a nap and freshen up, then, once you feel up to it, we’ll get hitched tonight.”

“You want to get a room? Now?” There went those eyes of hers again. Big blue saucers brimming with disapproval.

“Well, sure. Why? What’s the matter with our sharing a room?”

“I thought you knew how I felt about such things.”

“What things?”

“You know…” She ducked her gaze, aiming it on the yucca plant thriving between Dumpsters number one and two. “Premarital—and in our case, even aftermarital—relations.”

“Huh?”

“S-E-X.”

“Oh. Ooh. Well, who said anything about doing the mattress mambo? All I suggested was that we get a room so you could take a nap.”

“That’s okay. I’d just as soon get this over with.”

Get it over with? What kind of a thing was that for a bride to say? Even a pretend bride! “Ah, sure. Let’s go.”

He bolted from the car, racing around the now dusty sedan intent on opening her door, but he was too late. She’d already done it. Didn’t she know she was being paid to let him do manly stuff for her so that she felt more like a woman and he felt like more of a—

Dope.

While he’d stood there contemplating his manhood, she’d already hustled past the weed-choked side of the pink chapel. Coming around the corner, Finn looked up to see a gigantic statue of smiling Wayne Newton. He held a wedding cake in his hands, and an inscription across the top of the chapel read, Wayne’s House of Love, and beneath that, Danke Schoen for your patronage.

Dear Lord, what am I getting into?

“Lilly! Wait up!” He tried shoving the keys into his pocket, but they wouldn’t fit. Her massive key chain was loaded down with a pink rabbit’s foot and mini snow-globes from every cheesy destination in the West. “Can you please put this in your purse?”

“Sure,” she said, pausing to grab the wad of fuzz and plastic from him, then slip it into her white bag. She glanced at her slim gold watch. “We’d better hurry. We’re almost late. Do you have the license?”

“Yeah.” Only it doesn’t quite read the way you think it does. How would she take the news when she learned he’d been on to her scam from the start?

“Hello? Dallas?”

“Huh? Oh—right. I’m ready and rarin’ to go.”

“No, not yet.” She approached him, then, standing on her tiptoes, buttoned his collar and retied his bow tie. The warm brush of her fingers against his throat startled him. Her act was intimate—the kind of thing a wife does for her husband before they attend their daughter’s wedding. Again Finn’s conscience reminded him of how badly he yearned for that kind of lifelong bliss, and of just how far this sham marriage was from the real thing.

“There,” Lilly said with a misty smile. “That’s better. Come on, let’s get married.”

On her way inside, for the umpteenth time Lilly wondered if she was doing the right thing. After all, she was still kind of on the rebound from Elliot, and maybe a month wasn’t long enough to know someone before she married him.

Yeah, but on the flip side, she’d known Elliot Dinsmoore all her life. Could she help it if, during the brief time they’d both moved away from their hometown, the charming traveling insurance salesman had gotten married—and conveniently forgot to tell her during their whirlwind romance that he still was married?

Shameful heat crept up her cheeks at the memory of the horrific day he’d told her his news. The day she’d given him not only her virginity, but her heart. Even now, almost two months after the fact, she knew that if her perfect family, none of whom had ever done a bad, stupid or reckless thing in their lives, found out she was pregnant with a married man’s baby, they’d never forgive her.

Well, she thought, throwing her shoulders back at the same time she opened the mirrored-glass chapel door, this was one time she was doing exactly the right thing. After being dumped by Elliot, she feared she’d never find a father for her baby, but after only a few weeks of online chatting with Dallas, she’d known everything would work out fine.

From her first sight of his out of focus—yet still cute in a blurry way—online picture, to the way he promised to be a good dad if she promised to be a good hostess, she’d known theirs would be a lasting relationship. A relationship no one ever need know wasn’t based on love.

All her adult life, her family had urged her to go to college, to find a real job, yet all she could ever remember wanting to do was raise a big brood of kids—just like her own mom. Lilly dreamed of ruling a rambling Victorian home alongside a loving husband, raising not award-winning kids, but rambunctious kids who got into as many jams as she had growing up.

And just think, finally, within a matter of mere minutes, all those dreams would be well on their way to coming true—well, all of them except for the Victorian house and loving husband, but then Lilly glanced over her shoulder just as Dallas stumbled across the threshold from concrete to red-hot-red shag carpet. Even tripping over his own feet, the man was criminally handsome—maybe even more so now that she’d seen he wasn’t perfect, either!

He flashed her a smile of strong white teeth, making her tummy flip-flop. Wow. There may never be love in their future, but if he kept that up, at least on her part there was starting to be a disconcerting amount of attraction.

“Hey,” he said. “Great taste in chapels.”

“You like it?”

“What’s not to like?”

Wayne Newton’s voice crooned through hidden speakers and pictures of Wayne coated every available inch of wall. A mannequin resplendently dressed in what a plaque at the bottom claimed was a genuine Wayne-worn suit spun in a slow circle. Everything about the place spoke of fun. Las Vegas-style fun. So why did she feel like bursting into tears?

“Hey?” he asked, cupping her face with his big, work-roughened hands. When had Dallas—an accomplished corporate attorney—ever done a lick of manual labor? “You look like you’re about to spout another eye gusher. Come on, Lil, don’t cry.”

His mentioning the word cry brought on her waterworks. “It’s j-just that I…” She gestured to their surroundings, to the dyed blonde, approaching at eleven o’clock who was dressed in head-to-toe black sequins. “Oh, Dallas…” Lilly threw herself at her groom. “I know I told you this was okay, but I always w-wanted to get married in a ch-church.” Wishing she wasn’t such an emotional basket case, she flashed him an apologetic look, then hefted her skirts in a mad dash for the door marked Powder Room.

“Are we having a problem?” their hostess asked.

Finn shook his head and whispered, “She’ll be fine.”

“I hope so, because…” Finn followed her gaze to a mirrored grandfather clock that was on chime number four of ten.

“We’ve got a big group coming in at ten-thirty. Either you two get the show on the road, or I’m afraid we’ll have to reschedule you for—”

“No,” Finn said, heading for the bathroom door. “No need to reschedule.” At least he hoped not! Not only were Lilly’s amazingly accurate fake tears tugging at his freshly broken heart, but visions of Mitch driving his truck screamed at his pride. The more Lilly stalled, the more Finn knew Mulligan was paying her to be with him. All this wailing had to be another part of the plan designed to yank his chain. Mitch must have told her to keep an eye on him while letting the bet deadline run out. That way, by the time Finn caught on to the scam, it would be too late to find another—less calculating—bride.

After a few minutes, Finn heard sniffles, then the door creaked open. His adorable, pink-cheeked bride peeked out. “A-after all my b-blubbering,” she managed to say, “y-you probably don’t want to marry me, do you?” A single tear glistening on her left cheek pierced his conscience.

Good grief, how had this all gotten so complicated?

Suddenly his scheme to win a thousand bucks and make Mitch look bad had somehow taken a back seat to his desire to once again make Lilly smile. “Of course, I want to marry you, sweetheart.” Sweetheart? “And listen, I was thinking that with this being Sunday morning and all, we could find a church and do this thing right. I mean, our family and friends won’t be there, but…”

“Oh, Dallas!” Although her sobs started anew, he spied a smile mixed in with the tears. His feeling of manly pride almost swelled right out of his chest.

Damn, she was good.

While their hostess gaped, Finn figured he might as well prove to her, too, that he was a grade A, genuine, manly M-A-N, so he swooped his bride into his arms. Though he could barely see past the tufts of flowery-smelling lace tickling his nose, he ushered Lilly out of the chapel and into brilliant sun.




Chapter Three


An hour later, Lilly beamed when Dallas had not only found her a lofty Methodist church to marry in, but an elderly minister with a few minutes to spare between his first and second services.

Standing in sunbeams shafting through decades-old stained glass, never had Lilly felt more sure about one of her decisions. Rich scents of pale pink cabbage roses and fragile lily of the valley wreathed her senses, bringing her to the conclusion that Dallas Lebeaux was a hero among men.

Not only had he found this church, but at a grocery store he had bought her a glorious new bouquet because he had noticed her old one drooping. Then he’d taken it upon himself to make every moment of their revised ceremony complete, all the way down to wonderfully gaudy, gum-ball machine rings. His TLC calmed her bridal jitters, and for the first time since sealing their arrangement, she didn’t feel the slightest bit apprehensive. If anything, she felt oddly excited about the years—and especially, hours—to come.

“Do you, Lillian, take thee Dallas as your lawfully wedded husband?” The minister’s solemn voice echoed in the lofty space.

“I do,” she answered strong and clear.

He turned to Dallas. “Do you, Dallas, take thee Lillian to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“Yeah…I, ah, do.”

“Then by the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. Dallas, you may kiss your radiant bride.”

As he did just that, Lilly thought she’d melt with bone-deep satisfaction. Her family would be so proud of the way she’d mended the broken pieces of her life—that is, they’d be proud if they knew what kind of mess she’d gotten into. Thankfully, now, they need never know. Her pregnancy cover-up was a fait accompli.

TWENTY-MINUTES LATER, Finn sat behind the wheel of his wife’s car, driving down a main drag, wondering if taking his marriage vows under another man’s name had broken any laws of man, or just God? Telling the kindly, rushed for time, elderly minister he’d left their marriage license all the way back in the car probably hadn’t been good, either. But hey, if the minister had noticed the discrepancy in names, Lilly would have been clued in on the fact that her groom was onto her scheme. Finn’s stomach churned, but one glance at Lilly did the work of a hundred Rolaids.

Lord, she was a sight to behold.

What was he worried about? He’d already won the bet. Now all he had to do was gloat to Mitch.

Sneaking another peek at his temporary bride, Finn noticed how her golden curls perfectly matched a magnolia smooth complexion that seemed more suited to Mississippi than the dried-up West. “Have you always lived in Utah?” he asked, stopping the car at a red light.

She eyed him funny. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Sure.”

“Then why would you ask me something like that? You know all about my childhood, goofy.”

“Right. How could I forget?” Thankfully, the light changed so he could pretend to focus on driving. “Ready to head back to Greenleaf?”

She shot him a look of horror. “Don’t you remember?”

“What?”

“Dallas?” Sounding hurt, she said, “I made reservations at the Bridal Fair Theme Motel and Casino. Remember how you said your mother had always wanted to stay there, but hadn’t had the money?”

He shook his head. “Aren’t you sweet? Here, we’ve only been married a few minutes and look, already you’re taking care of me to the extent that you’re worried about my mother.” God rest her soul.

That brought the roses back to Lilly’s cheeks.

Aha! Again, his earlier assumptions had been right. Her wanting them to stay in Vegas was definitely another facet of Mitch’s plan. A form of insurance.

Since Lilly thought he had married her under an assumed name, she still believed she’d won the bet for the enemy camp. The only way she wouldn’t win was if Finn realized that although he had lost the bet on a technicality, he still had time to find another bride. In short, Lilly had been told to keep her eye on him while letting the clock run down.

Fortunately, Finn was still about twelve steps ahead of her. And given that he’d always loved Vegas and a good party, he figured why not combine those two loves to not only celebrate his victory, but call Lilly’s bluff to see just how far she was willing to go for her boss.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said. “How about since my mother isn’t here, we stay at one of the big boys? You know, like Luxor or Bally’s? Even better, The Venetian—I’ve heard it’s very romantic.”

She dropped her gaze. Her bottom lip started to quiver. “Y-you said you preferred intimacy over crowds. I mean, though we discussed taking you know—things—slow, I even booked the Mount Vesuvius Suite.”

Mmm, smooth move. Looked like she was definitely willing to go all the way, but playing coy.

Eyeing her lips, he remembered how soft they were. Soft and warm and moist and—

“Look out!”

Finn slammed on the breaks, narrowly avoiding a nasty run-in with a diesel-belching city bus.

Instinctively he shot his arm out to brace Lilly should they crash, but with the danger long gone, he gave himself a pat on the back. Way to go, man—not for saving the car, but for accidentally landing a direct hit atop her left breast. Beneath his palm, her nipple swelled and hardened, returning him to high school to watch one of those slow-motion science films on budding flowers. Right before his eyes, or rather his touch, this flower was blooming, and the sight of her flustered smile filled him with awe.

Whew, he thought, taking his sweet time removing his hand. Good thing he had a handle on this situation or he might have mistaken all this lust for genuine attraction.

“Do you need me to drive?” she asked.

“Nope. I’ve got everything under control.” Except for that nagging issue of forgetting he was parked in the middle of a bustling six-lane road.

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER in a dark, dank-smelling alcove leading to the bathrooms of Elvis’s Hunk o’ Good Cookin’ Café where they’d stopped for brunch, Finn had a hard time transferring the numbers from his calling card to a pay phone. He wasn’t trembling, was he? The slight shake to his hands must have been from hunger, because he certainly wasn’t that upset about his bothersome fascination with his wife.

Three tries later, the other line rang.

“Yeah?” a groggy Matt finally answered.

“You gotta help me, bud. I’m scared.”

“Finn? That you?”

“Yep, and I’m treadin’ some pretty deep water.”

“What’s up?”

“You know that bet I had with Mitch?”

“Uh-huh…”

“Well, to make a long story short, I found a bride and this morning…I married her in Vegas.”

“You what?” Instantly Matt’s voice went from sleepin’-it-off mode to high-noon alert. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Sorry.”

“Oh, man. What’re you gonna do? Who is she? Where’d you meet?”

Finn gazed at Lilly, at the way sun filtered through the café’s tinted front windows, bathing her in lavender. Lord, she was beautiful. Lord, he wanted to fulfill his husbandly duty. But no matter how much he wanted to take Lilly into his arms, there was that matter of her having been hired by Mitch to consider. Not to mention his vow to never, ever, get mixed up with another conniving woman.

“Finn? You there? Talk to me, man.”

“I’m here. I…oh hell, bottom line, something’s happening to me, Matt. I thought this was a joke. You know, to get back at Mitch, but I don’t know. Once I won the bet, I figured she’d fess up that Mitch hired her, but she hasn’t. And I feel kinda funny when I look at her. And when she talks, I sometimes have a hard time breathing.”

“Okay, first off, I’m sure if you’re in Vegas, it’s the dry air making you breathe funny. And second, if Mitch hired this woman, you can’t be that attracted to her. Either she’s got you under a spell, or this is merely a rebound thing from the wedding. For the sake of this discussion, we’ll call it ‘the Vivian Effect.’”

“Great. We have a name, but what’s the solution?”

“Simple. Go with it. She likes you. You like her. I’m failing to see the problem—unless she interferes with Friday night poker.”

Swell.

Finn said a quick catch ya later to his friend, then hung up, grumbling, “Fat lot of help you were,” as he thumped his forehead against the cool chrome front of the phone.

What was he going to do?

On the one hand, Lilly was not only a hottie, but sweeter than cotton candy. She was exactly the kind of woman he’d always pictured his kids coming home to after school.

Then, as the sun was setting, he’d park his truck in the driveway and his family would all come running out the front door to greet him—a big golden lab named Rover leading the pack—followed, of course, by the three mutts he already had. His four boys would be next to tromp down the front porch stairs. And Lilly would bring up the rear, pausing at the rail, backlit by golden afternoon sun, hugging his infant daughter to her hip.

He’d always planned on having his boys first. That way they could help him keep Charlotte’s boyfriends in line—oh, and Charlotte was going to be his first daughter’s name. In memory of his mom. His first son would be named Edward in honor of his dad. He’d name his second daughter, Katherine—Katie for short—for his sister.

Okay, so that was the one hand. On the other, he was a fool to think, even for a second, his dreams were about to come true.

For the last time, man, Lilly was hired by your worst enemy to mess with your head. Lilly probably isn’t even her real name!

“Dallas?”

Finn looked up to see her.

“I don’t mean to invade your privacy,” she said, “but our brunch is almost ready.” She capped her words with a shy, intoxicatingly pretty grin. “After being up all night, you must be starving, and well—” she ducked her gaze “—you know it’s not healthy to wait too long between meals.”

As if watching himself in a movie, Finn heard the low din of conversation, the chink of silverware against china, the sad strains of a country song playing over hidden speakers. He smelled cigarette smoke and bacon and the sticky sweet scent of maple syrup. And while he was acutely aware of all that, he tried not to be aware of his ridiculous curiosity as to what it might be like to start a family with this woman who might be named Lilly.

Cautiously he slipped his arm about her wisp of a waist, gazing deep into her baby blues. Matt’s words skipped through his brain. She likes you. You like her. What’s the problem?

“Dallas? Are you already feeling weak?” She stood on her tiptoes, skimming cool fingers across Finn’s fevered forehead. “You’re hot.”

For you.

“Maybe we should get you to the motel so you can lie down?”

“You want me to lie down, huh?” Steering her toward their table, he held her deliciously tightly.

“Watch it, mister. You know what I mean. You look sick.”

“Gee, thanks.”

They’d left the dark hall to enter the maze of tables and he took her by the hand to lead her through.

“Congratulations,” called out a portly man seated at the counter as they passed. “Have y’all been married long?”

Lilly beamed. “Almost an hour.”

“Well, that’s just great. Good luck to you both.” To Finn he said, “Take care of this little missy. I can tell just by lookin’ at her she’s a special gal.”

“Um, thanks.” Finn hardly even slowed on his way to their table.

“Dallas?” she complained once they slid into their booth. “Why didn’t you stop and say something to that man? He was being nice.”

He sighed. “Sorry. I guess after our long night I didn’t feel up to small talk.”

“You are sick, aren’t you?”

“No. Really, I feel fine.”

“Then why do you seem different?”

“You’re overreacting, Mrs. Lebeaux. I’m just tired.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Okay, then tell me who you called and what they said that’s made you so glum.”

Finn took a deep breath. There you go, man. You’ll never get a better chance to bring up the bet. Ask her what she’s doing hooked up with a slimeball like Mitch—not to mention what it’d take to buy out her contract.

Unfortunately, just as Finn was about to pose his question, a waitress wearing a wig that looked more like tinsel than hair stopped in front of their table. “Who ordered the Graceland Special?”

“Me,” Finn said.

“Okeydoke.” She slid a double cheeseburger and crinkle fries in front of him. “This must be yours,” she said, setting another burger and fries in front of Lilly before stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. “Strange but true observation—the only other couple I know who order burgers for breakfast has been married over sixty years. You two have that same look about you—the one that says you just might go the distance.”

“Thank you,” Finn’s bride gushed, pressing her hands to glowing cheeks. “Including the minister who married us, you’re the third person this morning to wish us luck, and you know what they say about the third time being a charm.”

“Oh, so then this is your third marriage?” There was barely a rise in the waitress’s purple eyebrows.

“Um, no,” Lilly said with a cute frown.

Finn hid his grin behind his burger.

“I, um, meant you were the third person to wish us luck on this marriage.”

“Oh, sure.” The waitress sagely nodded. “That’s great. Oh—and hey,” She reached into the pocket of her short black skirt to draw out two slips of red paper. “Before I forget—The King, also known as my boss, Kenny, gives these to all our newlyweds.”

“What are they?” Lilly asked, accepting their gift.

“Complimentary tickets to the matinee performance of Elvis’s Bird and Dog Show. You’ll love it.”

“Yo, Moonbeam!” a burly bald man called from across the room. “My hair’s not grownin’ any thicker waitin’ on you!”

“Keep your pants on, Burt. I’m comin’.” To Lilly and Finn, Moonbeam said, “Enjoy the show,” before heading Burt’s way.

“Wasn’t she sweet?” Lilly said. “And what fun we’ll have with these tickets. A bird and dog show. How exciting. I wonder if the animals perform together?”

Finn suppressed what had to be his hundredth groan of the morning. “As newlyweds, don’t we have something else we’re supposed to be doing?”

“Don’t tell me you mean…you know…” Her cheeks turned a dozen shades of pink.

“Yeah, that’s what I mean. So? Doesn’t that sound like more fun?”

“Dallas,” she scolded. Lowering her voice, she said, “You know my feelings on that subject. I think it’d be best if we got to know each other first.” She looked at the tickets, then her watch. “The show starts at noon. It’s ten past eleven, which means if we’re going to check into the motel first—just to guarantee our room and change our clothes—then we’d better hurry up and eat.”

Ooh, you’re smooth. What an amazing stroke of luck the way Lilly had managed to wriggle her ripe little tush out of sealing their vows just yet.

“This tastes delicious,” she said, swallowing a bite of her burger. “I can’t stand eggs, so when I was a kid, I told Mom that as soon as I grew up, I was only eating hamburgers for breakfast.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No. Why would I make something like that up?”

“I wasn’t implying you would, it’s just that I feel the same way about eggs—or any breakfast food for that matter. I always figured why not skip breakfast and go straight to lunch.” What Finn didn’t reveal was that the reason he’d adopted the habit of skipping breakfast was to make the days after losing his parents and sister pass faster. If he jumped right out of bed and went straight to lunch, in a kid’s mind, that translated to a lot fewer hours in the day.

His wife sat her Love Me Tender special down and flashed him one of her wavering grins that typically preceded tears. “Do you know what our both liking burgers for breakfast means?” Her big blue eyes turned shimmery.

I know what it usually means when you start up your sprinklers. You get whatever you want. But not this time. I’m onto you. I’m—

“It means that we really do have a shot at our marriage lasting forever. Everyone knows the more things a couple has in common, the more likely they are to stay together. My oldest brother, David, is a marriage counselor, so believe me, I’ve heard this from a reliable source. Uh…” She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so hormonal since—well, you know. Anyway—” she reached across the table for his hands “—all I wanted to say is that Dallas Lebeaux, you are my knight in shining armor for rescuing me not only from the Wayne Newton Chapel, but—no, I’m not going to get emotional again. I just want you to know that if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll never make you sorry for marrying me.”

“AND NOW, ladies and gentleman…”

Lilly grinned to see Dallas squirm at Elvis’s mention of him being the only other man in the room. And what a room it was. The so-called theater had been set up in an old grocery store. The checkouts were piled high with souvenir T-shirts, mugs and key chains and the raised center deli section was now a stage. The overhead lights had been turned out and the entire perimeter of the massive space glowed with neon outlines of dancing pork chops and milk jugs. The place smelled like a cross between salami and glazed donuts, both of which made Lilly’s stomach growl.

“For my next amazing feat,” Elvis said, “I’ll need a lovely assistant. Do I have anyone out there who’d like to help Sparky the Wonder Dog?”

“Me! Me!” A half dozen pint-size girls squirmed in their seats, itching for the chance to clamber up on stage.

“Hmm, such a tough choice,” Elvis said, “You’re all so lovely, but I pick…you.” He pointed to the only one of the girls not squirming, a pigtailed angel seated in a wheelchair. “Sir,” Elvis said, pointing to Dallas. “Could you please help the little lady onto the stage? Her mama looks like she’s got her hands full.”

Lilly followed the magician’s gaze to where the girl’s mother cradled a tiny bundle of blue. What a cute baby! But then Lilly caught sight of her groom staring at the infant and found a whole new meaning for cute. Beaming at the tiny face, Dallas’s expression had turned to pure mush.

Wow…her heart felt ready to burst.

She’d been terrified that, because he hadn’t asked the smallest question about her baby, Dallas had changed his mind about wanting to become a father, but seeing him now, gazing upon a stranger’s infant, then taking extraordinary care wheeling the girl toward the stage, Lilly again had her decision to marry him confirmed.

“There you go, sir,” Elvis said. “Wheel that darling right on up the ramp, then you can take your seat.”

For Lilly, with Dallas back beside her, the rest of the show passed in a blur of jumping toy poodles, squawking parrots and barely contained tears. Never could she remember having been so happy. With the help of the Internet, she’d found a wonderful father for her child.

Yes, but what about a wonderful husband for you?

She swallowed hard and cast a glance Dallas’s way.

No. No matter how many times as a young woman she’d dreamed of Prince Charming sweeping her off her feet, she had to keep in mind that, now, it would simply never happen. The current platonic arrangement she shared with Dallas was beneficial for them both. If she were to open herself up to the kind of pipe dreams that had led to her involvement with Elliot, she’d only be inviting more trouble into her life.

All that said, Dallas seemed to be getting a genuine kick out of not so much watching the show, but watching how much the children around him enjoyed the show. Meeting this one-in-a-million man had been a miracle, and while she knew their feelings would never move beyond friendship, at the moment she very much felt that she had already made a lifelong friend. And somehow, she thought, swallowing past the lump in her throat, that would be enough.

She and Dallas laughed at the same corny jokes, she adored his taste in flowers and rings, they’d even eaten the same unconventional breakfast. By the time Sparky the Wonder Dog was readying for his brave fire leap and her husband had taken her hand in his, Lilly no longer felt sorry for herself, but more like the luckiest woman alive.

All too soon the show was over and they were the last to leave the small theater. While Dallas made a quick run to the rest room, she waited for him in the foyer, counting the seconds to his return.

When he strolled out of the makeshift lobby wearing a cheesy grin, she said, “What are you up to? You look like you’ve been doing a lot more than going to the bathroom.”

He shrugged and slipped his hands into his pockets, where she could have sworn she detected the sound of crinkling plastic.

“Dallas Lebeaux, what are you hiding?”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Can’t a guy keep a secret from his wife?”

“Did you buy me a present?”

Again, all she got from him was a maddening shrug, then, “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

“Hmm, sounds intriguing.” She didn’t press him further, for if there was anything she liked more than her new husband, it was surprises!

“Whoa, it’s bright out here,” Finn said, holding the door open for his adorable wife as they moved from the dark ex-grocery store to blinding midday sun.

“It sure is.” On the way to the car, she brought her hand to her forehead to shade her eyes. Sunbeams shot through the paste diamond in her gumball-machine ring, reminding him for a second of the antique ruby and diamond he’d almost slipped on Vivian’s hand. The ring had been his grandmother’s, then his mother’s. Giving that ring to Vivian would have been the worst mistake of his life.

But then if marrying his real fiancée would have been just a mistake, what did marrying a hired fiancée amount to? Full-out catastrophe?

He eyed the scooped neck of the pink T-shirt Lilly had changed into. No catastrophe there. The full upper curve of her breasts peeked at him, practically sending him an engraved invitation to feel how soft they were and pliable and—

“Wasn’t that girl you helped onstage adorable?”

“What? Huh?” Finn, reaching to unlock, then open Lilly’s car door, was still focused on the adult entertainment.

“Don’t tell me you already forgot her corkscrew pigtails?” she said, climbing inside the car.

Hell no, he hadn’t forgotten the girl or her baby brother. It was just that the topic of kids was too painful to bring into this lark he and Lilly called a marriage.

“You’re going to make a great father,” she said after he slid behind the wheel. “My brother says you can tell a good parent by their patience, and what with all my blubbering last night and the church thing this morning—” she transfixed him with her near-flood-stage baby blues “—what can I say? You’re a patient guy. A guy I know is going to make a great dad.”

Talk about hitting below the belt. How had Mitch known Finn yearned to be a father? The power Lilly wielded with her body already had Finn losing control. If she started talking babies, too, he’d be a goner.

Figuring the best way to avoid the issue was to ignore it, he started the car.

“Where to?” he said.

“Want to go back to the motel and talk?”

“Nah,” he said, backing out of their parking space. “It’s too early for talking. How about playing a few slots?”




Chapter Four


“Come on, baby…Mommy needs a new pair of shoes.” Lilly pulled the one-armed bandit’s lever, then watched in disgust as once again, her nickel investment paid a dividend of exactly squat.

“You’re not doing so hot,” Mr. I-Can’t-Lose said smugly from his stool beside her. His coin tray was heaped with nickels to the point that he’d had to get one of the jumbo-sized SlotWorld coin cups to hold his overflow. And wouldn’t you know it? Just as she looked his way, his machine hit triple blue sevens again.

“Awesome!” he shouted. “That’s twenty more bucks! I’m rich!”

Great. You’re rich and the chink, chink, chink of nickels spewing out of your machine is giving me a headache. As were the dinging bells of other winning machines—not to mention the cigar cloud haze from the old guy on the next row.

Sighing, Lilly reached into her wallet for another five-dollar bill to slip into the change portion of the machine.

“You know, beautiful,” Dallas said with an annoyingly warm smile, “you’re welcome to grab a handful of my nickels.”

“Thanks, but I’ve never been too keen on accepting charity.”

“We’re married. What’s mine is yours.” Before she could stop him, he dumped his coin cup into the base of her machine.

“Hey, what’d you do that for?” He was still leaning into her personal space and suddenly she was far more disturbed by his oh-so-male scent than his nickels.

“I did that,” he said, leaving his stool to straddle her knees, “because you need to loosen up. This is our honeymoon for heaven’s sake and here you are worrying more about beating a stupid slot machine than getting to know your husband.”

Lilly gulped. She’d only imagined the heat of his breath on her chest, right? “Um, Dallas…” she managed to say though her lungs felt strangely weak. “I, ah, think you should get back to your own stool. Someone might take your machine.”

He flashed her a wicked grin before glancing down one way, then the other of their dead-end aisle. “Looks to me like we’ve got the whole place to ourselves. Hmm, whatever shall we do with all this privacy?” He slipped his hands to her waist, shocking her with a sudden turn of the tables that put him back on his own stool, landing with her on his lap.

She took a long time drawing her next breath, praying the additional air might still her frenzied pulse. Rats. No such luck. “Dallas, please…”

“Please what?” he said, his breath hot against her neck, her right ear. “Please, kiss you? Please slide my hands up your shirt? Please take you back to our poor, lonely suite?”

Without waiting for her reply, he did slip his hands under her shirt, and such was her shock—not to mention secret, aching delight—she froze, allowing him to skim his open palms up her torso until finally reaching her silk-covered breasts. The heat of his palms caused her nipples to traitorously swell, and she deeply, honestly searched for a reason to push him away. But in the end, the only dizzying thought that sprang to mind was that Dallas was now her husband. She was his wife. And if they stayed their current course, no matter how impossible it seemed, every dream she’d ever had would be well on its way to coming true.

Skimming her hands to his back, she arched into him, licking her lips before darting her gaze to make one last check they were alone. However wary she might have been about ever again opening her heart, the attraction drawing her ever-closer to her husband was a powerful thing. Two seconds later, when Dallas still hadn’t crushed his lips to hers, she decided to live life on the edge by cupping the back of his head and drawing him to her, finishing the job herself.

Dear Lord, Finn thought on the heels of a groan. Had he ever partaken of a woman so sweet? Lilly’s kisses tasted like ice cream and cotton candy. Bubble gum and red hots. She was the most honeyed, most indescribably delicious thing he’d ever tasted and he couldn’t wait for more. Damn Mitch. Finn had won his part of the bet fair and square. Whatever happened between Lilly and him from this point on was gravy—or maybe that should have been chocolate sauce!

“Oh, Dallas,” she softly crooned. “You have such a way with kisses.”

Screech. There went those damned mental brakes.

Like fingernails on a chalkboard, Lilly’s calling him Dallas grated his nerves. That’s it. Once and for all, they had to establish the perimeters of their relationship—not that they even had a relationship—but before he made love to her, which he fully planned to do by the end of the day, Finn wanted to hear his name spilled from those full, pouty lips.




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