got that right.” Sarcasm dripped from every word.
No matter that just a few minutes before she had been having thoughts about Steve that no bride about to marry another man should have. Rosie felt obligated to defend her fiancé. She’d had a lifetime of family disapproval and the buttinskis had better get used to the fact that she was calling the shots. She was a grown woman; she knew exactly what she was doing. Steve Schafer had no right to stick his nose in and spoil everything.
“Wayne is not a creep. He’s a wonderful man. He’s thoughtful and kind and generous. And smart. And very good-looking. I’m going to marry him and you can’t talk me out of it,” she finished desperately.
“I was afraid you’d be stubborn.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked. “What’s going on?”
Even as she demanded to be told the truth, a bad feeling settled over her. Wayne was way overdue and getting later by the minute.
There was a weary, disgusted look in Steve’s eyes. Deep creases carved his face beside his nose and mouth. Something told her she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
“Wayne’s not coming.” His voice was flat.
She couldn’t have heard him right. “I—” She stopped and swallowed hard. Numb. That’s what she was. She couldn’t feel anything and there was a part of her desperately grateful for that. “I don’t believe you. H-he said he would meet me here at noon. It’s only a few minutes past—”
“It’s later than that.”
“He’ll be here.” Her hands started to shake. “He has to,” she whispered.
“What?” he asked sharply.
“Nothing.”
“You can wait if you want, I can’t stop you. But I’m doing my best to spare you, Rosie. Trust me. He’s not coming.” There was pity in his expression. It was that more than anything that made her eyes burn with unshed tears at the same time she wanted to deck him. How dare he pity her?
She blinked away the moisture. “What has Wayne ever done to give you such a low opinion of him?”
“Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you back to the hotel and buy you some lunch. We can talk—”
“I’m not leaving here until my groom shows up.”
“I just told you, that’s not going to happen.” He glanced at the watch on his wide wrist and nodded with satisfaction.
“How do you know that?”
“Because he’s a weasel.”
“That’s not true and it’s not an answer.” She shook her head as her eyes widened. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”
“I wish I didn’t have to.” He met her gaze until she looked away. “Believe it or not, I’m not enjoying myself. Let’s get out of here, go someplace private so we can talk. We’ll get something to eat, then I’ll take you back to the hotel for your things.”
That was twice in two minutes that he’d offered her food. Apparently he thought the world-famous Marchetti method of eating one’s way out of a crisis would cure what ailed her. But he was so wrong.
She pointed an accusing finger at him. “You’re trying to break us up. You want to hustle me out of here before Wayne arrives and make him think I stood him up.”
“Your imagination is working overtime.”
“That’s what you’d like me to think. I’m just going to wait. And I don’t need company. Feel free to leave anytime.”
Behind her, the chapel door opened and a man, dressed in a dark suit and carrying a book in his hand, slipped inside. He walked down the carpeted aisle and stopped in front of them. “Finally. This is the tardy bridegroom?” he asked, staring questioningly at Steve’s worn leather bomber jacket, white cotton shirt, and faded jeans.
Rosie shook her head. “He was just leaving, Your Honor. Wayne will be here any minute.”
“Steve Schafer,” Steve said, holding out his hand to the justice of the peace.
“Charles Forbes.”
After they shook hands Steve said, “There’s been a change of plans. Miss Marchetti won’t be getting married today after all. We’re sorry to have inconvenienced you, Your Honor.”
“Not so fast, buster,” Rosie said. “I’m not sure what he’s trying to pull, Judge Forbes. But if you’ll be patient for just a few more minutes, my fiancé will be here.”
“He’s very late.” The judge gave her a look, puzzled, but definitely sympathetic, too. “We can wait until my next couple arrives. But I’ve a busy schedule this afternoon. I squeezed you in today, Miss Marchetti, remember?”
She winced at the “Miss.” It should have been “Mrs.” by now. “How could I forget? Just a little longer. Please. He’ll be here. I’m sure of it.”
Steve shook his head. “There’s no point in wasting the man’s time, Rosie. Wayne’s not coming.”
“How can you know that for sure?” she asked again. She was really afraid he would answer the question this time, and her desperation increased in direct proportion to her groom’s tardiness.
Steve glanced at the judge, then down at her. “Let’s go outside—”
“No. I’m not budging one step until you tell me, right here, right now, how you can be so sure Wayne’s not coining.”
Steve’s mouth thinned and he looked down for several seconds. Then he met her gaze squarely. “I know because I gave him a lot of money and a plane ticket as far away from you as he could get without a passport. Then I drove him to the airport and waited until his plane took off. Wayne’s not coming to marry you today or any other day, Rosie.”
Steve tipped the room service waiter and shut the door to Rosie’s hotel suite. She’d been in the bathroom ever since he’d brought her here from the chapel. It had been almost an hour and if she didn’t come out soon, he’d have to break the damn door down. One corner of his mouth lifted. You could take the kid out of the gutter, but apparently you couldn’t completely leave the gutter mentality behind.
He knocked softly. “Lunch is here, squirt.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I ordered a bottle of wine.”
“It’s not even close to happy hour,” she said. The door between them did nothing to muffle her sarcasm.
He knew he should be grateful she wasn’t in the same room with him. An angry Marchetti was a formidable sight. When her shock wore off, he would be in for it. Unless he could mellow her out with a glass of wine.
“It’s the kind you like. I figured it was the
