With a look that dared her to do less, he passed the pen to Sarah Ann. She swallowed hard, then scratched her name on the line beside his.
It was a bizarre way to acquire a wife, and it produced a peculiar tickling in the back of his mind, as if demons or angels performed a frenzied tarantella on his synapses at his expense. Gabe shrugged to himself. Well, there had to be legal remedies to this situation, strange as it was, and since Reverend Cullen and the nurses were already taking their leave, he’d find a way to extricate himself from this little party real soon, too. Until then, his best bet was to follow his own advice and refuse to panic.
“Oh, no, Gramps, we really couldn’t.” Sarah Ann stood at the hospital bed with Judge Holt. The thin edge of alarm in her voice snagged Gabe’s attention.
“Nonsense, girlie,” the old man said. “I insist. I know you. You’ll think you have to sit here with me or some such foolishness.”
“I really shouldn’t leave you—”
“I’m tired out from the excitement. I’ll just go on to sleep, whether you’re here or not. What do I want with more company?” He gestured to Gabe. “You talk some sense into her, son.”
“Yes, sir. As soon as you tell me how it’s done.”
Harlan chuckled. “He’s got your number already, girlie.”
Distress tugged at Sarah Ann’s mouth—her well-kissed mouth, Gabe noted, then forcibly curtailed that wayward thought.
“We…we planned to spend a quiet evening,” she said, shooting Gabe a frantic glance. “At…at home.”
Harlan shook his head, emphatic. “I won’t hear of it. Besides, it’s all arranged, isn’t it, Henry?”
“Yes, indeed.” The judge beamed his pleasure. “I’m official chauffeur.”
“To where?” Gabe asked carefully.
“The honeymoon suite at the best hotel in Lostman’s Island.” Harlan smiled in satisfaction. “It’s my wedding gift to you two kids.”
“Good God, woman, stop looking at me like that—I’m not going to pounce on you!”
Heart in her throat, Sarah Ann watched Gabe prowl the perimeter of their luxurious suite like a caged tiger. Taking his assignment seriously, Judge Holt had ushered them inside moments before, wishing them a good night’s rest with a twinkle in his eye.
But considering the way Gabe had kissed her into putty earlier, and worse, the shameless way she’d responded, Sarah Ann wasn’t reassured by Gabe’s growled declaration. He was livid, and he had a right to be.
Looking away from Gabe’s intimidating scowl, she let her gaze wander the room. Gramps had really gone all out. The Victoria, a turn-of-the-century bed and breakfast establishment, was a haven of antiques, plush fabrics and fresh flowers. A four-poster bed draped with netting sat on a pastel oriental rug. A magnum of champagne cooled in a sterling ice bucket. A pair of terry cloth robes hung in the bath beside the huge claw-footed tub, and the judge had even supplied overnight kits for them both. Soft lighting and softer music added to the ambiance.
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