Immediately, my nipples tightened, stabbing into the sheet I held clutched to my breasts.
“Ah, the name’s Kaleb,” he said softly and thrust a hand through his unruly hair.
A shiver raced down my spine as he spoke. An accent. I was such a sucker for an accent. “You…” I swallowed and told myself to get a grip. “You’re Australian. Sydney?”
A thick blond brow shot up. “Good ear. Most Yanks wouldn’t recognize the difference between somebody from Sydney versus somebody from Perth. Spent much time there?”
“Um, no.” With a weak smile, I shrugged. “My…family travels a lot. Or they used to.” I shrugged, not wanting to get into any of that. Besides, I had other things on my mind. Like why he was in my room. Although that was obvious. He was naked. I was naked. I reached up to push my hair back. Sunlight glinted off something, and I froze.
“Oh.” Swallowing nervously, I stared at the gaudy thing on my left hand. “Oh, shit.”
I glared at him, only to see him standing by the side of the bed, staring down at something I didn’t think was his toes.
What in the hell was he doing? Admiring himself?
He reached down and understanding dawned, mostly because I saw the empty condom wrapper on the nightstand. Blood rushed to my face, and my head started to spin.
No. Oh, no.
“A dream,” I whispered. “This is all a crazy dream.”
I waited for the sexy Aussie to tell me otherwise or maybe come over and pick me up, kiss me…something that would convince me that maybe this was a dream. He was too busy walking toward the bathroom, treating me to an excellent view of his perfect ass – not an image I could easily look away from.
“Not happening,” I said and pinched myself hard enough to hurt. Things were looking more and more insane by the minute.
In desperation, I rushed for the door that opened into the adjoining suite.
The lights were still off, and it was thankfully dim in there. Astra, my best friend, must have remembered to close the blinds, the wench.
I fumbled through the dark living room area and found my way into the bedroom. The blinds were pulled there too. I was tempted to just lay down and curl up next to her, but I needed to know what was going on.
She was snoring softly, and when I shook her, she swatted at my hand. “Not today, baby,” she mumbled.
“Wake up, Astra. It’s me.”
She swatted at me again. “Oomph.”
“Astra!” I shook her harder. When that brought no response, I went to the windows and grabbed a handful of curtains, jerking them open. She screeched behind me.
“Bitch! Close those damn curtains!”
“Wake up and talk to me,” I said, ignoring her. If I could handle the marching band in my skull, she could handle the light.
She cracked an eye open, bloodshot and tired. Okay, she probably had a marching band of her own.
But unlike me, Astra didn’t get totally wasted and forget things when she got drunk. “What happened last night?” I asked, holding up my hand, wiggling my fingers to give her something to focus on.
A wide smiled curled her lips, and it even went to her eyes, bloodshot and tired as they were. “What do you mean, what happened? Forgotten already, sweetcheeks?”
“Astra,” I said slowly, praying for patience. “I’m going to kill you, chop you into tiny pieces, and toss the remains out all over the desert. You’ll be eaten by scavengers before your family even knows you’re missing.”
“Oh…savage.” She looked unfazed and sat up, lazily stretching her arms over her chest. The skinny strapped silk nightshirt she wore barely managed to cover her considerable...assets.
I wouldn’t have had so much trouble. But then again, her breasts were probably the only thing holding the shirt up, with its deep vee neckline and high cut sides. Astra had one hell of a body.
That nightshirt would've gaped down to my belly button. My body was strong and firm in all the right places, but an abundance of cleavage was one thing God had not blessed me with. I was smart, attractive. Confident too. I also had ridiculously wealthy parents who tried to control my life, but no excessive boobs in sight.
The man upstairs had also seen fit to give me a best friend who was ridiculously insane. She sat on the edge of the bed, grinning at me even though I suspected she was every bit as hungover as I was.
That was bad.
Very bad.
If I got too drunk, things got a bit hazy for me – okay, a lot hazy – but Astra could pack it away like a sailor and not forget a thing.
“What are you grinning at?” I waved my hand in her face, making light flash off the cheap plastic ring with its gaudy fake diamond. “And what the hell is this?”
“Isn’t it fantastic? I had to spend like five bucks getting it out of that stupid bubble gum machine after I conned some guy into selling me the quarters. I had to flash him a look down my shirt.”
She leaned backed on the bed, her weight braced on her hands. I stared at her. “What are you–?”
I didn’t get to finish because she blathered on. “I’ll tell you what, those things are rigged. They’re even worse than the slot machines. I got so many stupid tattoos. I don’t know what I’m going to do with them.” She shrugged. “I guess I’ll give them to my cousin. Or maybe one of the kids down at the shelter back home.”
I shoved my hand through my hair. “Forget the tattoos!” I waved my hand at her again, the ring flashing at me mockingly. “This! Explain.”
“Wow. You really don’t remember anything?” She laughed and got up. Wearing nothing but the nightshirt and a skimpy pair of low cut panties, she came over to me and looped an arm around my neck. “Sweetheart, that handsome hunk of man flesh from Down Under…”
She paused dramatically, arching her brows as she waited.
“What?” I demanded, ready to shake her.
“He’s your husband.” She winked at me and spun away, pausing to stretch before she picked up a robe and tossed it at me. “Here. Put this on. Toga parties are so…college.”
The robe hit my chest and fell to the floor.
Gaping at her, I sank down on the edge of the bed while my brain struggled to process her words.
Husband.
That was the word she used. I’d heard her correctly, I think. But…maybe not. “Astra, what did you just say?” My voice came out in a weak whisper, not quite the calm and steady tone I’d been shooting for.
“You got married, girl!” She laughed, sounded delighted. “It’s crazy, the things that can happen in Vegas. Man, I love this city.”
This was a joke. It had to be a joke. But my heart was racing, and my face felt strangely hot. Pinpricks seemed to dance all up and down my spine, and my head was spinning, but it had nothing to do with a hangover.
“You can’t be serious. You’re joking, right?” I gave her a look of sheer, hopeful desperation. She had to be joking. Had to.
Astra smiled, and this time, it was a little less Mad Hatter and a bit more reassuring. “Piety, babe, it was your idea.”
“No.” Shaking my head emphatically, I said, “No. No, no, no…I get a little reckless, sure, but this has Astra Traore written all over it.”
“Okay…well.” She poked out her lower lip and shrugged. “Maybe you made a joke, and I thought it was funny, and we got to talking about it. But you were all in!”
“Why would I go all in about marrying a stranger!” I wanted to scream. Or maybe laugh hysterically. My belly revolted, and another thought occurred to me. I just might be sick. Where was the damn bathroom? I knew where it was on my side of the suite, but in here? Thinking was just too damn hard right now, but I didn’t want to walk back to my room.
He was in there.
That beautiful, gorgeous – what had Astra called him? – hunk of man flesh. A beautiful piece of man flesh. Too beautiful.
Frazzled, I stared at the floor. The robe caught my eye, and I picked it up, pulling it on before twisting the sh
eet into a ball. Then I looked up at my best friend. “Since you seem to have a clear grasp of the situation, why don’t you tell me why I supposedly married this guy?”
“There’s no supposedly about it.” She shrugged and sat down next to me. “You married him. We’ve got it on video, and we’re going to upload it onto YouTube.”
YouTube…
“You’re nuts. You’re crazy. My parents will freak out. Hell, this might kill my dad.” Silas Van Allen just might have a heart attack. His precious daughter getting married to some stranger in Las Vegas? I laughed shakily. “Well, we did talk about finding a way to get him off my ass about settling down.”
“Exactly!” Astra beamed at me.
Rising to my feet, I pointed a finger at her. “Don’t give me this crap about it being my idea. Maybe I made a joke, but how drunk was I? And how drunk were you?”
Astra looked hurt. “What? Don’t you think you’re capable of something this dastardly and brilliant?”
“How about insane?” I flung a hand toward the other suite of rooms. “That’s a human being over there. Apparently, we went and decided to do something just to screw with my dad, and we’re dragging him into it. You know what my dad is like!”
“Oh, chill out, PS.”
I made a face at the nickname. “Don’t tell me to chill out. I can’t. I’m freaking out.” Hearing movement next door, I looked at Astra helplessly. “What do I do?” I whispered.
“Oh, honey.” She came toward me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Relax. Kaleb was all in with the idea once we explained how tight-assed your daddy is.” She stood up and held out a hand. “Come on.”
I stared at her waving fingers, wondering what she wanted me to do.
“What?”
“We should go talk to him.” She smiled again and took my hand, trying to pull me after her.
Shaking my head, I remained where I was. “What kind of idiot Justice of the Peace would marry two people who are obviously drunk? Considering how my head feels, I must have been walking into walls.”
“Not quite.” She gave me a smile of sympathy. “You maintained really well. And as to the JP? You flashed enough money. You do that, most people will bend the rules a little bit, especially for a Congressman's daughter.”
Groaning, I dropped my face into my hands. “Great. Just great.” I turned into a lush after two days in Las Vegas and had also lost touch with my inner moral compass – bribing a Justice of the Peace? “I’m turning into my parents. Oh, shit. What if I’m turning into my mother?”
Chapter Two
Kaleb
“Would you be still?”
The voice was husky and soft, straight out of a porn flick, and I rolled toward it, seeking out the warmth and scent of a woman. Sexy and sweet, it went straight to my dick, which was already doing its morning salute.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
I was about ready to reach for her when a high-pitched yelp had me jerking up in bed. “What’s–?”
The wrong got caught in my throat at the sight of her. I don’t think she even heard me anyway. She was too busy wrapping herself in a sheet and gaping at me. After a second, she snapped her jaw shut. I clenched mine so it wouldn’t fall open.
“Who the hell are you?” She stared at me, her big, dark blue eyes wide and startled.
“Ah, the name’s Kaleb.”
“You…you’re Australian. Sydney?”
“Good ear.” Talk. Act human. Don’t stare at her damn tits. “Most Yanks wouldn’t recognize the difference between somebody from Sydney versus somebody from Perth. Spent much time there?”
“Um, no. My…family travels a lot. Or they used to.”
I wasn’t having much luck not staring at those perfect, perky breasts, so I climbed out of bed and looked around. My head was still cloudy, and it hurt like hell. What happened last night? What time was it?
A thousand sticky thoughts pushed through my head, but I couldn’t untangle them.
I could do one thing – use the damn bathroom.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
I didn't think she heard. She was swearing about something too, but I didn't think it had anything to do with the rubber that was in a rather precarious position on my semi-erect penis.
Grabbing it, I looked up and caught sight of her staring at me.
“A dream.” She closed her eyes as she whispered it. “This is all a crazy dream.”
Not likely. If it was a dream, I would have been balls-deep inside her, not standing there with a bloody headache and a crumpled up condom in my fist.
I stalked into the bathroom, desperate to get away from the woman for a minute. I had to think.
I just needed a minute.
Once I was in the bathroom, I shut the door and leaned back. “What the fuck happened?” I muttered.
Spying a waste bin, I tossed the rubber into it and tended to business.
The nagging sense that I’d forgotten something – something important – tugged at my brain as I moved to the sink to wash up, but my mind stayed annoyingly blank, and I finally had to admit that it wouldn’t do any good to just stand in this bathroom while that raven-haired beauty stayed out there, probably getting more and more frustrated.
As I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked hung over and pretty damn shitty. That wouldn’t go over well with the new boss.
New boss.
“Fuck.”
I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist before leaving the room. Clock! Where was a damn clock? The woman, along with another, came through the adjoining suite’s door at the same time.
I still didn’t see a clock. “What time is it?” I said.
“We…um…” The girl from the bed looked at her friend, a shorter, cute thing with curls, curves and a wide smile. “We need to talk.”
“I can’t,” I barked. “I’m going to miss my bus if I haven’t already. What time is it?”
I couldn’t lose this job. There was too much depending on it.
Spying my clothes in a tangle on the floor, I grabbed them and almost took them into the bathroom, but for right now, modesty be damned. Without another thought, I dropped the towel and grabbed my jeans, jabbing one foot then the other into the legs as the women gaped at me. Yeah, commando, ladies.
“Look, you need to slow it down,” she said, giving her friend a desperate look.
“I can’t, sweetheart.” I grabbed my shirt, and something thudded onto the floor. My phone. When I grabbed it, the screen lit up, showing the time.
“Dammit! I’ll barely make it.”
“Wait,” she cried out, cutting in front of me when I would have sat down to put my shoes on.
She looked as desperate as I felt. Maybe she had a job riding on the next few minutes too.
I had doubts about that though. The room we were in was the kind I’d expect to see given to a princess – or a queen. That was what she made me think of – royalty, even wearing that robe and a worried expression. It was in the way she carried herself, so haughty and above it all.
And I didn’t have time to think about how proper she might be. “Anyway, I hate to dash, but I have to go.” I cut around her and sat down, shoving my feet into my shoes. I grabbed my shirt and pulled it on as I stood up.
She was right there, not two inches away when my head cleared the material.
“You need to be quiet and listen.” She poked me in the chest with her index finger.
A gaudy, fake ring glinted up at me.
“Nice taste in jewelry, love.”
“I’m so glad you think so,” she said, giving me a sarcastic smile. She held her hand up and waved it back and forth in front of my face. “It’s a damn wedding ring.”
“Wedding…” I blinked. “Fuck me, are you married?”
If she was, she needed a better man. One who’d put a real ring on her finger and not that horrible piece of junk.
She blinked at me, shaking her head. “You?
??re beautiful, but maybe you’re not too bright,” she said slowly.
I stiffened instinctively at the insult before reminding myself it didn’t matter what some prima donna American babydoll thought of me. I had enough to deal with anyway.
“Aw, my feelings are hurt,” I said, forcing out a mock sigh. “Anyway, I’ve got to run. I’ve got a new job I’m starting, and if I’m late, I’m screwed. You can…look, I’m sorry. I was drunk, and I didn’t know you were married. Doubt it will make much difference, but tell your husband I’m sorry.”
“Fine,” she said to my back. “The man I slept with last night wants me to tell you he’s sorry.”
I froze. One hand on the door knob, I stared at the pale, gleaming oak and tried to make sense of those words. The man I slept with…
Slowly, I turned around and stared at her. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”
She had crossed her arms over her chest as stood there, glaring at me, her chin in the air. “Do I look like I’m laughing?”
No. She looked like she was torn between crying and hitting something. I could sympathize with the feeling.
“You…” I looked back at the ring, then at her. “Are you telling me…?”
Her lip curled into a snarl. “We got hitched last night, sweetheart.”
“That’s not possible,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t even know your name.”
“That’s what I said. But my friend assures me the wedding did happen. She recorded it. We’ve got a license…somewhere. As to our names…” She came toward me, her right hand outstretched.
Good, if I had to look at the awful plastic trinket another moment…
Slowly, I took her hand, staring into those gorgeous eyes.
“I’m Piety,” she murmured.
“Kaleb.” Then I laughed, feeling like the entire world had flipped upside down. “Look, I’m sorry, but I…I still have to go. If I lose this job, I’m screwed.”
Chapter Three
Piety