a scattering of small pale blotches on his side.
“Last thing I remember was dancing with you.” His thumb tapped the window. “We’d been at the bar. Champagne’s not usually my thing. I ordered a pitcher of margaritas for the table.” He seemed to be talking more to himself than her.
She felt perspiration spring out on her forehead. “It can’t be a real marriage certificate.”
“Yeah, well, unless we prove it one way or another—” He broke off when there was a knock on the door.
His eyes were as dark a brown as his hair and they looked toward her, questioningly. Combined with the whiskers blurring his jaw and the faint lines arrowing out from his eyes, it was a powerful combination.
“How should I know?” she whispered. “This is your suite.”
She’d been the one to make all the hotel arrangements for Vivian’s little Las Vegas jaunt. Quinn, his sister, Delia, his triplet cousins and Vivian were all on the same floor. Penny’s room was twenty floors below. Down in the less outrageously expensive section. Vivian had thought that particular touch was uproariously funny.
But then Vivian Archer Templeton had more money than Midas. She could afford expensive vacations like this for half her family anytime she wanted.
The knocking got louder, this time accompanied by feminine laughter. “Come on, Master Sergeant Templeton,” came the muffled voice through the door. “Get your lazy bones moving. You’re going to be late for lunch.”
Lunch.
Penny groaned. Vivian was expecting everyone in her suite for the lunch that Penny had arranged the day before. It was to be their last full day in Las Vegas before heading back home to Wyoming.
“They’re gonna get a kick out of this.” Quinn started for the door, but Penny grabbed his arm, feeling sheer panic flow through her veins.
“You can’t tell them!”
He lifted a dark eyebrow. “How do you know they don’t already know?” He held up the certificate. “Maybe they were our wedding guests.”
She felt the blood drain out of her face. He was right. If neither one of them could remember the events of the previous night, how could she assume anything? “Don’t bring it up if they don’t,” she whispered fiercely. “Promise me!”
His eyes searched hers.
The knocking on the door got louder.
“Your leave is going to end. You’ll go back to your life,” she reminded him. “I’ll still be in Weaver. I don’t want the notoriety, okay? Gossip is the town’s best industry.”
His beautifully molded lips compressed. He looked like he wanted to argue.
“Please, Quinn. I’m begging here.”
“Fine.” He sounded none too pleased about it.
Relief still flooded through her. One thing she knew about Quinn Templeton was that he always kept his word.
She dashed around the bed, snatching up the items of her clothing that were visible, and raced toward the bathroom, only to nearly fall on her face as the sheet caught around her feet.
Quinn’s hand shot out, grabbing her arm and righting her.
“Quinn!” The knocking on the door hadn’t ceased.
“Dammit, Greer, I heard you the first time,” he said loudly. “Keep your pants on!” He pushed the crumpled marriage certificate into Penny’s hand and nudged her gently toward the bathroom. “Be more careful,” he murmured.
She ducked her chin, grabbed the sheet higher around her calves so she wouldn’t trip again and hurried into the luxuriously appointed bathroom, closing the door quietly after her.
The sight of her reflection in the wall-size mirror made her shudder. Guilt. Horror. Shock. All of that was in her face. Added to her rat’s nest hair and the whole bedsheet thing, she looked exactly as she’d expect a woman to look after waking up in a strange man’s bed.
Only he wasn’t really a stranger, was he, if she’d known him since she’d been a teenager? Or was that negated by the fact that—aside from his brief visits home to Wyoming—he’d been gone for more than the last decade?
She dumped the certificate, her dress and the one high-heeled sandal she’d found beside the bed on the marble counter and pressed her ear against the closed door.
All she could hear were muffled voices.
She raked her tangled hair away from her face. It was only then that she noticed the narrow band on her left finger. It was gold. Set with sparkling diamonds that circled all the way around. And it was beautiful.
She slid it off so fast it flew out of her fingers and rolled out of sight.
Her conscience nipped at her and she crawled around until she found it. Feeling decidedly nauseated, she set it on top of Quinn’s leather shaving kit, then went to sit on the side of the enormous round bathtub. Pins prickled behind her eyes and she pinched them closed. It was one thing to know she’d slept with him. But how could she have married him?
Once upon a time, she was supposed to have been a bride. A real one. Only instead of marrying Andy, she’d—
“Hey—”
She looked up to see Quinn had opened the door. He’d added a T-shirt over his jeans. The light gray cotton looked stretched almost to breaking point over his shoulders.
“You all right?”
She swiped her cheeks. “You ever hear of that thing called privacy?”
“That’s what locks are for.” His dark, dark eyes roved over her. “There’s no reason to cry. At least my cousin Greer didn’t mention anything unusual. This isn’t the end of the world.”
“Waking up married?” She waved her hand, only to feel her sheet slipping, and yanked it once again up to her neck. “Sure. Nothing to be worried about at all.”
He scrubbed his hand down his bristly jaw. The thick, wavy hair on his head was as dark as ever, but the whiskers there definitely held a touch of gray.
She wished she could say they detracted from his appeal.
But at least that long-fingered hand of his wasn’t sporting a wedding ring.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said.
“I don’t know how you can sound so calm.” She hitched up the long ends of the sheet and stood. “This is a disaster.” She slipped past him to return to the bedroom area. As oversize and opulent as the bathroom was, it was still too small with him in it.
His voice turned flat. “Stop being melodramatic.”
She spotted her other shoe peeking out from beneath the gold silk bedspread that was hanging off the mattress, and grabbed it. She couldn’t remember how the evening had ended the night before,
