Marriage by Mistake (5 page)

But on a stranger
. The man she'd known
   even the man she'd loathed    was
nowhere.

She tried a smile. "I guess it's my turn to
owe you an apology."

His brows knit.

"I didn't believe you when you said you'd
been hypnotized."

He grunted. "Under the circumstances,
understandable."

Kelly sighed. "Yeah, well, it did sound
pretty incredible. Add to that, the tendency of the male to slink
off once he's got what he wanted. That's why I    " She
stopped and waved a hand.

His gaze was steady. "That's why you made
sure I married you first."

Kelly looked away. She nodded. Neither of
them said anything then. There was a peculiar tension in the air.
They were strangers    but not quite. They'd been
physically intimate. He understood that by logical deduction, but
Kelly actually remembered. Lord help her, but she remembered far
too well.

While Kelly felt the air in the room stretch
tight, he cleared his throat. "Well I guess we should finish our
business, if that's all right with you?"

"Business?" Kelly's voice came out too high.
"Oh yes, right, of course." She nodded vigorously. "The divorce.
You've more than convinced me. I'll sign on whatever dotted line
you say." She wanted to get out of there. The situation was even
more humiliating than she'd imagined. That whole, dramatic scene in
Boston    God.

His chin jerked. "Yes, well, thank you very
   But that isn't the business I mean."

Kelly blinked. "No?"

For the first time, his steady gaze slipped.
"I mean," he said, staring over her left shoulder, "we need to talk
about your move to Boston. Closing your apartment. Quitting your
job."

"Wha    ? Excuse me, what?"

His gaze drew back to her. "We are married,
Miss Williams. Usually that involves living together."

Kelly stared at him. "What?" she asked
again.

Dean raised a pair of haughty eyebrows. "I've
come to take you home with me."

Kelly stood rooted to her spot.

He had no such mobility problem, turning and
strolling toward the coffee table. "I'm afraid you will have to
move to Boston." His voice was impossibly matter-of-fact. "There is
no practical way I could relocate to Las Vegas."

Still staring in his direction, Kelly
blinked. "You mean    you think we're married?"

He sat on the floral chair and looked up at
her. "Aren't we?"

"No." She waved a finger between the two of
them. "Didn't you just get through explaining that to me?"

"What I explained was that I do not remember
the event. I am convinced, however, that it did indeed happen."

Kelly made herself breathe. "Well, yeah, it
happened but    you weren't
you
."

"Oh? Who was I then?"

"You were hypnotized!"

His jaw tightened. "The hypnosis could not
force me to do anything against my will."

"Please. Don't tell me those old men
wanted
to bark like dogs."

"Pardon?"

Kelly waved her hands. "
You
didn't
want to marry me. You were under the influence of something
   Troy's suggestions. You didn't intend to do it."

On the floral chair, he went still. "A part
of me did," he said softly.

Kelly paused, digesting that. "A
part
of you?"

The tops of his cheeks went pink. "A part of
my
mind
. I knew what I was doing. I knew I was making a
promise, and now I intend to fulfill it."

He seemed utterly serious. But   
he couldn't be. Shouldn't be. This whole thing was like the
dog-barking. A joke.

He heaved a deep sigh. "I'm the man who
married you. I am."

Kelly inhaled. "But    "

"No 'but's. I
am
the man you met five
days ago in Las Vegas, the one who did...everything I did. I simply
don't remember it."

Kelly frowned hard. "No."

His gaze was crystal blue. "Yes."

"No, no, no." She took a step back. "I know
the man I met. He was    " She stopped and flapped a
hand. "He wasn't
you
."

The Dean in front of her raised a pair of
dubious brows.

Kelly huffed a breath. "He was...fun, mellow.
Personable. And he wouldn't be...doing what you're trying to
do."

Those supercilious brows dove downward. "He
wouldn't be trying to honor his marriage vows?"

"No! I mean    " Kelly stopped,
frustrated. In fact, she had suspected just such craven behavior of
'her' Dean.

The present Dean looked satisfied. "Consider
that you knew me for less than forty-eight hours."

"But    "

"You were bound to discover I wasn't exactly
the man you had imagined."

"Well yes, but this is something else
   "

"The intensity of emotion that prompted us to
the altar could not possibly have lasted." He crossed his arms over
his chest and leaned back in his chair. "Were you planning to give
up on the marriage at that point?"

Kelly found she had to look away from his
questioning gaze. "This isn't the same thing at all."

"Why not?"

Kelly felt her heart pick up speed even
though she
knew
there was a difference. "You. Were.
Hypnotized. You don't even remember me. It's like    an
accident. You said so yourself!"

He paused, then spoke with careful
enunciation. "I don't walk away from accidents."

Kelly's heart beat faster. This was a crazy
argument. Of course they weren't married, except in the most
technical sense. And yet he sounded grimly earnest. "Divorce
wouldn't be walking away. It would be...taking care of the
accident."

He gave a sharp shake of the head. "Divorce
is a coward's way out. I've always thought so. Once a vow is made,
it should be kept."

Kelly's heart beat now at the rhythm of
panic. These were words she might have spoken herself, a bare week
ago. "This is different," she insisted, her voice hoarse.

"A promise is a promise," he stated
calmly.

"You weren't yourself." To put it mildly.

His lips thinned. "I wish I had the luxury of
discussing this further but other matters press. I need to resolve
this tonight."

"Tonight!"

He uncrossed his arms. "My flight home is at
eight. You can be on it. My wife, with all the rights and
privileges thereto."

Kelly's mouth opened and closed. She started
to laugh. "Tonight."

"Don't worry about the time crunch." He
shifted his attention to his briefcase, closing the lid. "You'll
only need to pack for your immediate needs. With the exception of
giving notice to your employer, my people can handle all the
details at this end; closing your apartment, storing your things,
et cetera, et cetera."

She laughed harder. "You've got to be
kidding."

His gaze centered back on her. "Marriage.
Fulfilling promises. That's my offer, Miss Williams. Take it or
leave it."

Her laughter died as she met his unwavering
gaze. He was absolutely serious. He actually meant to fly her home
with him. He didn't know her, he couldn't possibly like her, yet he
was that committed to keeping his word.

Kelly swallowed. She'd only met one man in
her life as committed. Her father, the minister, who'd taught her
from the cradle the importance of integrity.

Dean snicked closed the latches of his
briefcase. "A call to me here at the hotel by seven will get you a
ride to the airport in time."

Kelly licked her lips. She wouldn't do it.
She wasn't married, not really.

"Think it over, Miss Williams. I'll be in
room 814."

"No," she said, but her voice cracked.

"You need to think it through." He stood.

"No." What was there to think through? "You
don't love me. You don't even know me. We're in Nevada, we should
get a divorce."

"Room 814," he said. "Just in case."

###

Five hours later, Troy's lazy voice crackled
over Dean's cell phone. "So, has she called you?"

Seated at the mini-office he'd created on the
table in his posh Las Vegas hotel room, Dean turned another page in
the quarterly report he was reviewing. "No, she hasn't called.
Apparently neither my money nor my social position were sufficient
incentives." He paused. "Lucky for you."

"Lucky for me?" Troy guffawed. "This was all
your idea, Dean. I didn't tell you to go marry a showgirl. All I
said was    "

"Yes," Dean interrupted. "I know what you
said."

Troy barreled on anyway, gloating. "What I
said was for you to do what you wanted for forty-eight hours,
instead of what you should."

Dean closed his eyes. His stomach twisted,
the way it did every time he recalled Troy's misbegotten hypnotic
suggestion.
Do what you want instead of what you should
.
Ridiculous. How could he have
wanted
to fly off to Las
Vegas? How could he have wanted to strike up with some   
some show dancer? And marry her!

Still, it had happened. It was fact. And Dean
had had to deal with the consequences of his actions; soberly,
responsibly, and completely. He'd had to offer her his name and his
home.

"So you're coming back a single man, after
all." Troy sighed. "I suppose that'll make Felicia happy."

"Felicia?" Dean frowned, unable to fathom
what this young woman, a distant relative on his mother's side, had
to do with anything.

"Never mind," said Troy, with a chuckle.

Dean decided to heed Troy's advice. He had
enough problems without worrying about Felicia Thurgood, whatever
might be wrong with her. She was blessedly not his
responsibility.

So Dean turned his attention to the one
person who might, at a stretch, be deemed his responsibility.
"How's Robby?" he asked Troy.

"Better," Troy returned promptly. "Or at
least your little half-brother will be better, now that I can tell
him you aren't on the hook any more."

Dean's fingers worried the sheet of paper
he'd been turning. "So he's still there."

"Where else would he be?"

Dean stifled a sigh. Robby, nine years old,
really shouldn't be one of his responsibilities.
Dean
hadn't
married a European rock star less than half his age and gotten her
pregnant, despite the obvious inability of the woman to deal with
real life, let alone a child. It was almost a mercy Robby's mother
had killed herself by skiing drunk in the Alps a few months after
his birth.

Now Dean frowned. "I thought Robby's father
might have put in an appearance by now."

Troy made a scornful sound.

"I sent a telegram," Dean protested.

"To a yacht in the Mediterranean? Besides,
even if he got it, your father isn't about to interrupt his
pleasure for your convenience."

Dean rubbed his forehead. This was most
certainly true. Kirk had never interrupted anything, ever, for
Dean's convenience. "I'll send a personal messenger," he told Troy.
"It's the third time Robby's been suspended from school this year,
and it's almost summer vacation. Kirk is going to deal with
this."

"Kirk is, huh?" said Troy.

Dean ignored the disbelief in his cousin's
tone. "Keep an eye on the brat. I'll be home first thing in the
morning."

"Not a problem." Troy sounded aggrieved.
"Little pest dogs my every step."

Dean spent a pleasant moment imagining his
half-brother dogging Troy's every footstep. It was precisely what
his trust-fund cousin deserved. "My condolences," he said dryly,
and rang off. Then he drew in a deep breath and, no longer
diverted, let his gaze wander to the clock radio on his hotel
nightstand.

Seven-thirty, the red numbers announced.

Seven thirty. Half an hour past the deadline.
She hadn't called. She wasn't coming.

Dean felt a sinking in his gut. Guiltily, he
realized the sensation was relief.

She hadn't called, she wasn't coming. He
didn't have to be married to her. He didn't have to live with her.
He didn't have to    to   

Dean leaned his head back on the chair and
huffed a sigh. He didn't have to live with her tempting tail in
front of him. He didn't have to resist her dangerous allure. He
didn't have to be reminded, over and over, that he was more his
father's son than he'd ever wanted to admit.

His eyes closed tight. It was a hard lesson
to learn at thirty-eight years of age, that he was completely
vulnerable to his hormones. The whole time he'd been alone with her
in the conference room, he'd had to struggle to keep his mind on
the matter at hand. He'd had to work like mad to keep her from
guessing his true thoughts.

Was she as soft under that sweat suit as
he imagined? Would her skin be as silky, her flesh as
giving
?

Dean opened his eyes and released a rough
laugh. Oh, he liked sex as much as the next man, but on his terms,
and under appropriate conditions. These were not his terms, nor
were conditions the least bit appropriate. It was all too much like
one of his father's tawdry misalliances. He and this Kelly had
absolutely nothing in common. There was nothing on which to build a
true and mutually respectful relationship. He didn't even know her,
for God's sake. But that didn't matter. In the conference room with
her he'd still wanted   

Dean jerked himself forward in the chair. All
right, enough. He knew perfectly well what he'd wanted. He didn't
have to dwell on the unexpectedly crude side of his nature. She
hadn't called, she wasn't coming. He didn't like the idea of
divorce. It was a sin Dean had promised himself he would never
commit, but in this case it was for the best.

Quick and clean. Before things got too
embarrassing.

Dean gathered the papers on the table. He'd
waited until the last minute to leave for the airport, afraid his
eagerness to escape his fate might interfere with his duty. Now
he'd have to rush if he wanted to make his flight.