Blind Luck Bride. Laura Marie Altom
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“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” Lilly said, fighting the urge to flee. When Dallas had said in that morning’s e-mail that he was suit-and-tie handsome, he’d been way off in his description. Deliciously off.
She couldn’t really marry a man like him, could she?
Do I really have a choice? It wasn’t as if guys were lined up around the block waiting to marry a woman in her condition.
“Not come?” He snatched a French fry from a basket on the bar. She tracked his hand all the way to his mouth. A mouth with lips that looked chiseled from the most fascinating stone. “How could I have stayed away from our big day? Or—” another fry in hand, he waved toward a darkened window “—I guess that would be night.”
When he spied her gaze lingering on his mouth, he offered her his latest fry, but she shook her head, flushed with heat at the mere possibility of consuming food that had come so perilously close to his lips.
She cleared her throat. “I, ah, don’t blame you if you’ve changed your mind. I mean, this is kind of sudden.”
“Nonsense.” He swallowed his bite of fry.
“It’s okay. Really. I wouldn’t be too upset if you want to back out.”
“Nope. Not me.”
“Great.” Lilly released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. In the month they’d known each other via the Marriage of Convenience board on Singles com, this was what she liked more every day about Dallas. He was a man driven by convictions. Okay, so he wasn’t marrying her out of love, but his conviction to succeed in his ultraconservative law firm—the same firm that told him he needed a wife—but she was okay with that. All she needed was a husband—the rest would work itself out in time.
“Let’s go,” she said. “I set up the ceremony for ten tomorrow morning, but even driving all night, that doesn’t give us much time.”
“All night? I don’t get it.”
“Vegas. That’s where we’ll be taking our vows. Remember? How you told me your mother always wanted to be married there?”
“Oh.” He conked his temple. “Of course. Mom. The Elvis Chapel. How could I forget?”
“I thought she liked Wayne Newton?”
“Um…Wayne, Elvis, she liked ’em all.”
Lilly drew her lower lip into her mouth and nibbled. As relieved as she’d been only a minute earlier to have finally found her man, something now told her riding off into the night with this virtual stranger wasn’t one of her brighter ideas. It didn’t matter that she and Dallas had talked via e-mail for the better part of a month. His not remembering his own mother’s favorite recording artist concerned her. Where was the man who bragged of having a photographic memory? The man who cited countless statistics on the reasons why arranged marriages were infinitely better than the real thing?
The whisker-stubbled, bona fide stud seated before her surely didn’t give a flip about dry statistics, and he looked as if he’d be far more comfortable listening to a Garth Brooks song than to Aida, his supposedly favorite opera.
Should she ask to see his driver’s license?
No. Too direct. Yes, she needed to verify he was who he said he was, but surely she could think of a less combatant way. She cleared her throat. “I, ah, realize this may sound a tad off the subject, but could you please tell me what my favorite food is?”
His eyes narrowed, and he took a long time before saying in a sexy twang, “Aw, now, angel, you already know that I know what your favorite food is.” He reached for her left hand and rolled down the cuff of her satin glove, exposing the frantically beating pulse on her inner wrist. “Why don’t you ask me something a little tougher….”
Oh my gosh! He was actually drawing her wrist to his mouth! He was—oh no. Oh no, he did not just kiss her on the wrist. As an employee of Tree House Books, she read a lot, but in her favorite novel of all time, Whispered Winds, the hero, Duncan, kissed his bride’s wrist at their third wedding. True, it had taken them three times to get their relationship right, but oh, how right it had finally been. Favorite food be damned. The fact that Dallas remembered how much she adored that scene proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not only who he claimed to be, but that first and foremost, he was the man destined to be her husband.
Closing her eyes, Lilly surrendered to the hot-cold champagne bubbles zinging through her body.
The white-haired woman keeping bar interrupted Lilly’s almost-wedded bliss. “S’cuse me,” she said to Dallas, “but what in tarnation do you think you’re doin’?”
“Mind your own business, Lu, this is my future bride.”
“Isn’t one bride per day enough for you, Fi—”
“That’s it. We’ve gotta go.” Finn nearly fell off his bar stool trying to slip his hand beneath his bride-to-be’s elbow while at the same time shooting Lu a would-you-please-hush look of desperation. By God, if she went and ruined this for him, he’d take her to court to cover the small fortune in cash and pride he’d have to fork over to Mitch. He might be able to handle a lot of bad situations, but voluntarily losing a bet to ornery old Mitch Mulligan wasn’t one of them. He knew it wasn’t neighborly, but he just plain despised the man, and he’d do anything to get the better of him. Even if it meant marrying this loco filly in the morning only to up and divorce her the next afternoon.
While all that sounded real good in theory, a pang of confusion rippled through Finn at the all-too-fresh memory of how badly Vivian had hurt him.
All his life he’d only wanted one thing—to once again be part of a family. So sure, by going through with this marriage, he’d make Mitch look like the fool he was, but in doing that, he’d also be making a mockery of his heart’s lifelong ambition. Was that wise?
A whiff of pretty-as-a-spring-meadow perfume wove its way like a love potion through Finn’s senses. He took one look at the vision in bridal white standing before him and decided what the heck?
He needed to lighten up.
Besides, what was the worst that could happen on a trip to Vegas?
Chapter Two
“Ready, darlin’?” Finn said, low enough so that hopefully Lu wouldn’t hear.
“I sure am.” Lilly waved to the still-gaping older woman. “Bye-bye.”
Lu might have been willing to let the whole incident slide if only Finn’s bride hadn’t—from out of nowhere—burst into tears.
“Now, now,” Lu crooned, zipping around the corner of the bar. “What’s the matter?”
“I—I’m so ha-ha-happy,” Lilly blurted in the same kind of hormonal, nonsensical, downright blithering sobs that had taken over Matt’s sister the day after she found out she was pregnant. “But I’ve waited so long for my wedding day, and Dallas, you’re even more of a gentleman than I’d imagined, but…I just