slushed through his veins, clogging the oxygen flow to his brain. Had to be since he sure wasn’t thinking straight because his brain—or was it just his male ego?—was screaming, Mine. Mine. Mine.
“Now...” She flashed another smile at the crowd, pulling them further under her spell. “I’ll turn the podium over to Dr. Slade Sain to present specific case studies and then we’ll field any questions together.”
They walked past each other as he took the podium and she returned to sit in the seat next to his at a table that had been set up at the front of the auditorium. He tried to meet her gaze, to smile at her and tell her what a great job she’d done, but she kept her gaze averted, purposely not looking at him.
Which annoyed Slade.
He stewed all the way to the podium and then did something almost as stupid as slipping a golden band around a woman’s finger when he had nothing to offer her but more broken dreams.
“Ladies and gentlemen, give my wife a round of applause for the great job she just did.”
Taylor’s face paled.
Slade’s face probably did, too. What had he just done?
Several of the people in the audience who knew them gasped in surprise. A few called out their congratulations.
When their gazes met, Taylor looked annoyed, but then she pasted on a smile for the crowd.
Their colleagues and class attendees settled down and, despite the horror bubbling in his stomach that he’d just made their mistake public, Slade got serious. He believed in the benefits of Interallon and wanted others to have the opportunity to significantly benefit from the still-experimental medication. Despite whatever was going on in their personal lives, it was his and Taylor’s job to educate their colleagues, to get others involved in the medication trials, as the pharmaceutical company pushed to have the FDA expedite approval.
He went over their case studies, answered questions, then pointed to one of their colleagues whose hand was raised with a question. The doctor had started out with him and Taylor the night before, but they’d ditched him and a handful of others when they’d left in the limo.
“Sorry to change the subject off Interallon, but when did you and Dr. Anderson get married?”
“Last night.” Slade glanced toward Taylor. Her green eyes flashed with anger beneath her glasses, but she kept a smile on her lovely face. No doubt he was going to get a tongue-lashing when the presentation finished. He deserved one. He wanted to scream and yell at himself for his stupid remark, too. “Next question.”
The man raised his hand again and spoke before Slade could call on another person. “You and Dr. Anderson got married last night? When you left dinner, you got married?”
Taylor stood, walked over to the podium, and took the microphone. “Dr. Ryan, you’ll understand if Dr. Sain and I request personal questions be saved for a later, more appropriate time. Right now, we prefer questions regarding Interallon and the success our clinic and the other clinics involved in the trials taking place are having with this phenomenal resource in our battle against a horrific disease.”
Put in his place, the man nodded. Taylor immediately called on another person and fielded a question about the medication being used in conjunction with currently available treatments.
“At this time, the studies using Interallon in conjunction with other cancer-fighting modalities are just starting to take place. Nashville Cancer Care will be heading up one of those trials early next year.”
Another flurry of questions filled the remaining time and no one brought up their nuptials again until after the class was over. Several of their colleagues shook their hands, patted their backs and gave them congratulations.
“I didn’t see that one coming,” Dr. Ryan commented, looking back and forth between them. “I didn’t even know you two were seeing each other.”
Slade narrowed his gaze at the other man. Cole Ryan had been one of the men eyeing Taylor on stage as if she was a piece of candy to be devoured. A growl gurgled in Slade’s throat, but he managed to keep it low.
Taylor closed her laptop and picked up a file folder with her notes inside. “I prefer to keep my personal life private. Obviously, Dr. Sain and I disagree on that particular issue.”
“Dr. Sain?” Ryan chuckled, then slapped Slade on the back again. “Your wife calls you Dr. Sain?”
Slade glanced at Taylor’s scowl, the stiff set to her shoulders and the tight line of her mouth. He was an idiot. He deserved her anger. He didn’t even know why he’d made the stupid announcement. Other than the fact that he’d been overcome with jealousy. “When she’s upset.”
“Trouble in paradise already. That’s a Vegas wedding for you.” The man laughed again, not realizing just how much he was getting on Slade’s nerves. Odd, as he usually liked the doctor, who also practiced in Nashville.
“Well, congrats anyway.” Cole gave them a wry look. “For however long it lasts.”
Slade packed up his briefcase and followed Taylor from the conference room and down the long hallway that led out into the hotel’s main lobby.
Ignoring the lush Christmas decorations and colorful slot machines scattered around the huge lobby, Taylor didn’t say a word directly to him until they were alone in the elevator. Then she rounded on him, opened her mouth to speak, then stopped, closed her eyes in disgust and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, anger still flickered there. “How dare you make that little announcement during our presentation?”
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You made a joke of our presentation,” she accused, practically snapping at him.
“No, I didn’t.” He would never intentionally do anything to take away from the importance of Interallon and the results they were getting with the medication.
“Yes, you did. Rather than paying attention to what you were saying, half the people in the room were busy Tweeting that we’d gotten married.”
“You’re exaggerating.” He hoped she was exaggerating.
“Really?” She dug in her bag and held up her phone. “This thing has been buzzing like crazy since you made your little comment. Forget the fact that our marriage is a sham, but how dare you make a mockery of my work?”
“That’s not what I was doing.” Guilt hit him. She was right. They were getting a divorce as soon as it could be arranged. The fewer people who knew of their mistake the better. He’d been out of line to say anything.
“That’s exactly what you were doing.” She looked as if she’d like to hit him, but instead just gritted her teeth and made a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a sigh.
“You’re right,” he agreed with sincerity and regret. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m sorry, Taylor.”
That seemed to take the steam out of her argument, as if she hadn’t expected him to apologize. Rather than say more she just rolled her eyes upward, her long lashes brushing the lenses of her heavy-framed glasses.
The elevator
