Bachelor-Auction Bridegroom. Mollie Molay
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“Not in public and not in broad daylight, for heaven’s sake!” She looked appalled and cuter than ever.
Better than in private and in the dark, T.J. thought as he regarded well-kissed rosy lips and sparkling hazel eyes that revealed so much. Given the right setting, he knew damn well he wouldn’t have been able to stop with mere hugs and kisses. Not when Emily had been an eager partner.
Emily averted her eyes and forced her heart to return to a normal beat. She’d told him of her dream of visiting Italy, but she hadn’t spoken of another dream she’d nurtured until Sean had jilted her. A dream of home, hearth, and a lifetime of happiness with a man she loved, and who loved her. A man like T.J.?
She should have known better than to respond to his kiss, no matter how wonderful he made her feel. Yesterday at the auction she’d sensed he was a rogue at heart and maybe a little dangerous. True or not, she didn’t intend to become another conquest of his or of any other man’s.
She pasted on a tight smile so that anyone watching her would think she enjoyed T.J.’s embrace. “I meant I wanted you to be lovable at the lawyer’s office. Not out here on the street!”
He grinned. “Sorry about that. I’m a strong believer that practice makes perfect. We’ve got to make it look good, don’t we?”
Emily straightened her suit collar, tucked stray tendrils of hair behind her ears. But not before she reached into her purse for a roll of peppermints. “We’ll have to hurry, or we’ll be late.”
By now, T.J. was ready for anything that would take his mind off Emily’s lips. He held out his hand for a peppermint and popped it in his mouth. “Come on, my car is parked around the corner.”
“No need,” Emily answered as she started off down the street. “The lawyer’s office is just two blocks away. That’s why I chose this hotel.”
“Gotcha,” T.J. murmured gratefully. The pungent peppermint wasn’t doing much to keep his mind off Emily’s lips or the satisfying way she’d felt in his arm. Failing a cold shower, a brisk walk might do the trick.
The concrete buildings and the sounds of traffic along their way proved to be a distraction. By the time they reached their destination, T.J. had cooled off. Some, but not all the way. He was as aware of Emily as ever. And, judging from the overt glances she kept sending his way, the feeling was mutual.
Wilbur Daniels, the lawyer behind the gilt letters on the door to his office, regarded Emily quietly when his secretary announced them. As soon as they were seated, she introduced T.J. as her husband. Daniels raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. May I see the photograph again?”
“Of course.” With a warning glance at T.J., Emily handed over the small photograph, then reached into her purse for another peppermint.
By now T.J. recognized that the pungent candy was a sure sign Emily was nervous. And that beneath her outward bravado, there had to be a growing fear her plans could blow up and take her inheritance with it.
Between Tim’s well-intentioned matchmaking and the way he’d just manhandled Emily on a public street, T.J. felt he owed her. He had to give her a chance at the inheritance she had coming. Even if it took him posing as her husband. But first, there was the matter of the disturbing marriage clause.
He put his arm around Emily’s shoulders, hugged her to him and planted what he hoped was a welcoming kiss on her lips. He felt her soft moan of protest but was grateful she didn’t pull away. “Atta girl,” he whispered into her lips.
Daniels glanced from T.J. to the small picture and back again. “Kind of blurry, don’t you think?”
“It’s not studio quality, if that’s what you mean.” T.J. mustered a proud grin. “The truth is, when I met Emily I fell head over heels in love with her.” He laughed and squeezed Emily again. “I didn’t give her time to change her mind, let alone to have wedding pictures taken. I couldn’t wait to…” His voice trailed off. The wink he gave the lawyer finished the sentence.
“T.J.!” Emily admonished. A blush covered her face. “Mr. Daniels will think—”
T.J. broke in and finished the sentence for her. “He’ll think we’re a happily married couple, sweetheart.”
Daniels frowned. “Frankly, Mr. Kirkpatrick, in itself, the photograph is hardly proof of your marriage.” He tossed the picture on his desk, sat back in his leather chair and steepled his hands. “I’m afraid I’ll have to see your marriage certificate.”
“For Pete’s sakes! I didn’t think I had to carry it with me,” T.J. replied with a frown. “Did you, Em?”
Em. Emily stared at her temporary husband. How could he know that Em was the loving nickname her aunt had used for her? What was there about T.J. that made her heart beat faster even while her temper boiled?
“Of course not! No one carries around their marriage certificate.” Emily pulled away from T.J.’s arm and leaned across the mahogany desk. “Mr. Daniels. It’s my belief you’re making this more difficult for me than you need to!”
Daniels stood and closed the folder on his desk. “Not at all, Miss Holmes. It’s a matter of following my client’s wishes. And the law governing probate.”
“Mrs. Kirkpatrick! And don’t you forget it!” T.J. exploded. He jumped to his feet before he realized that if he didn’t watch himself, he’d be knee-deep in a possibly illegal conspiracy.
“Mrs. Kirkpatrick,” the lawyer amended. His complexion blanched, but he held his ground. “It doesn’t matter what I think. As an officer of the court, it is my duty to make sure your aunt’s wishes are carried out. And the wishes contained in her last will and testament clearly state you must be married in order to inherit her estate.”
T.J. sensed Daniels was far from convinced he and Emily were married. He sent her a warning glance. Whatever it would take to insure she got her inheritance wasn’t going to be accomplished here, or today.
Daniels glanced at Emily. “I’m going out of town for a few days. That should give you time to produce the certificate.”
As far as T.J. was concerned, the man’s trip out of town was too convenient to be true. Without coming right out and saying he doubted Emily was a married woman, Daniels was giving Emily time to hang herself.
T.J. intended to make sure Emily understood she was headed for trouble if she insisted they were married in order to gain her inheritance. Without a license or a marriage certificate, there had to be another way.
Back on the street, T.J. drew Emily into a small coffee shop. The comforting odor of freshly brewed coffee and the scent of warm cinnamon sticky buns were tantalizing. But they didn’t do much to ease the growing premonition sending icicles running up and down his spine.
He motioned to a table and headed for the serving counter.
“I hope you’re not thinking of doing something irrational or illegal,” he said when he rejoined Emily. “If you are, count me out.” He set the paper cups of hot coffee on the table and glanced at her clenched hands and tense lips.
She