Did You Say Married?!. Kathie DeNosky

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Did You Say Married?! - Kathie DeNosky Mills & Boon Desire

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Warren? Are you all right?”

      Hell, no!

      “Uh…er, yes,” he finally managed to say, his voice cracking like that of a boy who’d just entered puberty.

      “I’m very glad you called.” The woman giggled. “It seems you and your bride were in such a hurry to start your life together, you forgot to take your wedding video. Would you like it sent to your hotel?”

      “I’ll…uh…that would be fine.” Dazed, he told Shirley to send it to the Mirage—the hotel Kristen had mentioned—then hung up.

      The sound of the broken connection galvanized him into action, and grabbing his bags, Chance headed for the door. He had to talk to Kristen. If her speedy escape from his room had been any indication, she wouldn’t hang around Vegas and risk running into him again. Besides, some things just couldn’t be discussed over the phone. He’d stake his reputation that she knew even less about their nuptials than he did.

      Kristen’s hand shook and she tried for the third time to fit the key card into the slot on her hotel room door. “Come on. Open up.”

      When the lock finally cooperated, she hurried inside and, removing her clothes as she crossed the room, made a beeline for the shower.

      Turning on the water, she moaned. “How could you sleep with the man, Kristen?”

      Beneath the warm spray, she finally let the sophisticated facade melt away and the tears flow. Humiliation and regret caused twin rivulets to mingle with the water streaming down her cheeks.

      One minute she’d been at the banquet thinking how her decision not to marry Spencer Dirkson would upset her father. The next she’d awakened in the arms of the very man Mike—she hadn’t called him “Dad” in years—had warned her to steer clear of. A man he didn’t even want her speaking to. Ever.

      Kristen’s chest tightened when she thought of Mike Lassiter. For once in her life, she’d like to do something to win her father’s love and approval, to be more than a major disappointment to him. But a stupid stunt like she’d pulled last night would only serve to widen the gulf between them.

      Sobs racked her body, and when a wave of dizziness made her sway, she leaned her head against the tiled wall. She felt terrible. And not just emotionally.

      Instead of washing away her remorse, crying only aggravated the head cold she’d fought for the past week. Now she had another sinus headache to contend with, as well as the embarrassment of spending the night with a virtual stranger.

      Toweling herself dry, she threw on the hotel’s complimentary bathrobe, then rummaged through her cosmetics case for the capsules her doctor had prescribed. What had she done with them? She’d taken one last night before going to the banquet….

      As she looked at herself in the mirror, Kristen’s eyes grew round.

      At dinner, she’d ordered mineral water. Unable to taste anything, she’d drunk most of it before realizing the waiter had brought white wine. Could the wine, mixed with cold medication, explain last night being a complete blank?

      “Maybe nothing happened.”

      Get real, Kristen.

      Chance Warren didn’t look the type to take a vow of celibacy. And the unfamiliar little aches she’d experienced since awakening in his arms supported that fact.

      Devilishly handsome, he had enough charm to talk the birds right out of the trees. And that didn’t even take into consideration his killer smile and devastating eyes. Have mercy! A woman could lose every ounce of sense she’d ever possessed when caught in his hypnotic blue gaze.

      Tall, broad-shouldered and damnably sexy in a pair of jeans and western-cut shirt, Chance Warren was every woman’s dream. At least every woman Kristen knew.

      A heaviness settled low in her stomach when she recalled the feel of his hand caressing her breast, the strength of his arousal pressed against her thigh. She moaned at the memory of his nude body stretched across the bed.

      How on earth would she ever be able to face him again without remembering his wide shoulders, the ripples of corded muscle covering his chest and stomach, the heaviness of his…

      Embarrassment burned her cheeks, and shaking her head to chase away the image, Kristen hurried into the next room. She had to leave Las Vegas as soon as possible. She wanted to put as much distance as possible between herself and Chance. There was no way she wanted to risk running into him again. At least not for a while.

      Jerking clothes from the hangers in the closet and scooping underwear from the dresser drawers, Kristen stuffed the garments into her suitcase. But at the sudden, unexpected sound of someone pounding on the door, she sent a second armful of lacy underwear flying in all directions.

      “Kristen, open up! We have to talk.”

      Even before she looked through the peephole she knew it had to be Chance. She’d remember his sexy Texas drawl for the rest of her life. But why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? Hadn’t she suffered enough humiliation for one day?

      “Go away,” she shouted back. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

      “Yes, there is,” he insisted. “Now, if you don’t open this door by the time I count to three, I swear I’ll break it down.”

      “You wouldn’t dare.”

      “Stand back and watch me, sweetheart.”

      Kristen bit her lower lip. He sounded deadly serious, and she had no doubt he’d follow through on his threat.

      “One…two…”

      “Okay. Just stop shouting.”

      Her trembling fingers fumbled with the locks. When she finally released the dead bolt and started to open the door, Chance shouldered his way into the room.

      “How did you get up here?” she demanded. “Security—”

      He waved a piece of parchment at her. “Didn’t say a word once I showed them this.”

      “I don’t know what that is or why you think we need to discuss—”

      “Once you take a look at it, you’ll have a fair idea,” he interrupted, shoving it into her hands.

      Kristen watched him remove his hat and run an agitated hand through his dark blond hair. He jammed it back on his head. A muscle along his tanned, clean-shaven jaw worked while he waited.

      “What is this?” she asked.

      “Just read it.”

      She opened the folded paper and scanned the document. Her eyes widened. “Is this some kind of joke?”

      His expression grim, he shook his head. “I called the chapel and verified it. In the eyes of God and the state of Nevada, you and I are legally married. A video of the ceremony should arrive at the front desk any minute.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Seems we were so eager to start the honeymoon, we forgot to take it with us.”

      Kristen’s

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