Jenny’s face fell like it had weights attached to it. “She said no?”
He pushed back from the table and came to his feet. “She said she’d think about it.”
“Then it’s not a lost cause?” Maria asked.
“Okay, you two, don’t get your hopes up.” Exactly what Paris had said to him before she’d left. “My guess is she’s going to think it over and then refuse the offer.”
“You should have knelt before her,” Jenny said. “Women like that.”
“And given her the damn ring,” Maria added. “I’m not sappy like Blondie here, but I do know most gals like to be treated with dignity when a man pops the question. Even your father knew that.”
“That’s true,” Jenny began. “J.D. could be quite the romantic even if he was a jackass.”
He didn’t want to hear anything else about the aforementioned jackass since he was the reason Dallas found himself in this predicament. “It wasn’t going to matter to Paris if I rode in on a white horse, considering what I’m asking of her.”
“A white horse would have been nice,” Jenny added. “That would be hard to resist.”
He wanted to shake some sense into the woman and dislodge her visions of hearts and flowers. “Again, the ball is now in Paris’s court. If she wants to agree to the marriage terms, then she’ll let me know.”
“Maybe you should go after her,” Maria added. “Give her a little nudge in the right direction.”
He had actually thought about doing that very thing before deciding he didn’t want to pressure her more than he already had. “If she wants to go forward, she’ll come to me. I’m not going to coerce her into a decision.” Although that would be a reason for ending the marriage, provided it actually happened. Nah. His sense of honor wouldn’t allow him to use that tactic.
“I hope she does say yes,” Jenny said. “We could plan a grand wedding on the grounds of the main house. I could make canapés and my famous mint juleps.”
That’s all he needed—a drunk bride. Then again, that would be grounds for the annulment. He really had to get a grip. “If she decides to go through with it, and that’s a big if, there won’t be any wedding. Just a simple courthouse ceremony and no publicity.”
Jenny pretended to pout. “That’s no fun, Dallas. You should have your family present for the nuptials.”
Before she called a caterer, Dallas had to get out of there. “You ladies have a good afternoon talking about me behind my back.”
With that, he left the kitchen and headed to the barn, all the while recalling how he’d watched Paris drive away. Probably for the last time.
In reality, the marriage pact was the craziest thing he’d ever conjured up. He sure as hell couldn’t imagine keeping his hands to himself for a day in her presence, much less a year. If everything fell through, he’d be better off. He’d just turn the place over to Fort and find somewhere else to start up Texas Extreme, even if it wouldn’t be the same.
Accepting the fact that Paris would turn him down flat would be best. He’d bet his last buck that’s exactly what she’d do.
“With the power vested in me by the state of Texas, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
The man should probably be pronouncing them certifiably insane. Four days ago she hadn’t even known Dallas Calloway. Two days ago she’d packed up her limited belongings and moved in with him. Today she wore a diamond-encrusted wedding band and vowed to be his wife. Unbelievable.
Paris waited for Dallas to follow the justice of the peace’s declaration, expecting a peck on the cheek. Perhaps a brush across her mouth. She got a full-on, well-deep kiss that curled her toes in the white satin pumps she’d purchased with the sleeveless matching dress before she’d left San Antonio.
After Dallas pulled away and winked, she automatically touched her tingling lips. “That certainly sealed the deal.”
He leaned over and whispered, “There’s more of that to come if you want more of it.”
Yes, she wanted more. Much more than she should. “Now that we’ve made this official, what’s the next step?”
“I have a driver waiting outside the north entrance. He’ll take us back to the plane.”
The private plane that had whisked her to Houston a few hours ago to meet up with the groom following his appearance at the grand opening of his newest saddle shop. An elaborate aircraft that could pass for a flying motel with a high-class bar and sleeping quarters, of all things.
Dallas clasped her hand to guide her through the courthouse vestibule and when they stepped outside, Paris was shocked to find hoards of reporters milling around the steps outside. “What is going on?”
“They’re here for us,” Dallas muttered, followed by a few strong oaths. “Just keep walking and stay close to me.”
“Not a problem.” She had no intention of crawling into the lion’s den without a proper escort.
As soon as they started their descent, cameras immediately began to flash, film began to roll and some woman with red hair as big as Jenny’s started hurling questions at Paris. “How does it feel to be married to one of the most eligible bachelors in the state?” she asked as she thrust a microphone in Paris’s face.
Before she could respond, Dallas practically dragged her toward the black limo waiting at the curb as he shoved his way through the crowd. She could swear someone tugged at the hem of her dress right before the chauffeur helped her into the car and away from the chaos.
Dallas slid in bedside her and immediately began to loosen his tie. “Dammit, I wanted to avoid all this nonsense. I’d like to know who the hell tipped them off.”
“That’s anyone’s guess. Maybe someone in the courthouse when you obtained our marriage license. By the way, how did you manage to circumvent the normal waiting period?”
He shrugged out of his beige jacket and laid it on the seat beside him. “I know people. Obviously people that can’t be trusted.”
She imagined he did know a lot of people in high places. She also imagined him taking off the white tailored shirt, his best pair of jeans and cowboy boots, and laying her down on the leather seat. Maybe she’d request he leave the boots on. Maybe she should exit the car now before she found herself in a lot of trouble. As if she wasn’t already. “You know, marriages are a matter of public record, Dallas. I’m sure that’s how the media learned about us.”
“We haven’t even been married fifteen minutes. Someone at the courthouse must’ve leaked the info. Probably an employee who wanted to make a buck selling a story.”
Curious over how far the news had traveled, Paris pulled her cell from her silk bag and did a quick internet search of their names. In less than five
