by Leslie Kelly
“Hey. Everything okay?” He tipped her chin up to see her expression more clearly in the low light.
“Fine.” She nodded. “I was going to say my on-site work is like babysitting, but that sort of thinking is exactly what makes people view me as...aloof. I don’t mean to be. When I’m here, my job is to oversee the flow of people and events, solving problems as they come up. It’s not tough. It’s...”
“Management.” He understood better than she realized. “And your contributions are a bigger deal than you’re letting on. You let yourself retreat to the background here, but you are one of the most vibrant, passionate people I know.”
“Me?” She shook her head. “Hardly.”
“You are the center of all this.” He gestured toward the mass of dancers, performers, musicians, dogs and a few loose white geese. “You make it all happen.”
She folded her arms and narrowed her gaze, even though he could see a hint of a smile quirking her lips.
“I’m not conceding the geese add that much to this show,” she confided in a teasing tone. “But I guess I know what you mean. Since when did you get so wise, Captain Rivera?”
“All I’ve done is work for the past decade. If I hadn’t learned a few things by now, I’d be mighty disappointed in myself.” Laying his hand lightly between her shoulder blades, he pointed toward the exit. “Are you ready to make a break for it and celebrate Christmas at last?”
She checked her slim silver wristwatch, but he already knew the time. It was almost 2:00 a.m. Long past time for him to start romancing his wife if he wanted any shot of keeping her.
“Definitely.”
“Would you mind if I drive?” He grabbed her cape where she’d hung it near some folded risers when they’d first entered the theater.
“Sure.” She pulled her keys from her purse and handed them to him. “Is this a guy, need-to-be-in-control thing?”
“Actually, nothing turns me on more than seeing you in charge.” He dropped the cape onto her shoulders and leaned in close enough to hear her swift intake of breath.
Close enough to catch a hint of the exotic floral scent she applied so lightly he had to really hunt for it to get the full effect. He felt as hypnotized by her as Sheba had been for that damn flute.
“But...?” she prodded, forcing him to remember their conversation. They’d been talking about a plan for tonight. How to celebrate Christmas. He needed to pay attention. Because while getting naked sounded really, really good in the short term, he wasn’t convinced red-hot sex alone would keep her from signing divorce papers.
He stepped back, out of the range of her feminine scent and steeled himself to go a little longer without touching her.
“I’ve got a surprise for you and I’d like to make a quick stop on the way home to give it to you.”
“Oh?”
“I’m going to prove to you that that vibrant, passionate person I knew in high school is still very much a part of who you are now.”
4
“THE DRIVE-THROUGH wedding chapel?”
Arianna stared out the windshield of her car as Dylan pulled into a parking space outside the twenty-four-hour business located off the Strip. She hadn’t ridden past it since that night with him four months ago.
Dylan clicked the ignition off and shifted to face her, his knee bumping the console even in her luxury-size sedan.
“You mentioned that you wished the pictures had turned out better from that night.” He reached for her left hand and held it between both of his, the simple gesture stirring memories and emotions. “I thought—before we closed the door on the marriage chapter—we ought to at least have a good photo to remember the night we were impulsive. And recreating our wedding night ought to remind you of the woman I see when I look at you.”
His words and warm voice made her heart feel all light and fizzy. But damn it, if he really cared about her, why hadn’t he called when he was overseas? Why no word from him until a few weeks ago?
“Recreate the wedding?” She wondered if he simply felt guilty about the marriage and wanted to end on a happier note. “You don’t have to do that.”
The pictures they had weren’t terrible. It’s not like the two of them weren’t recognizable, or anything. They were just a bit...candid. She’d been flashing toothy gums in her smile, her hair flying away as if it had somewhere else to be...that sort of thing.
What would it be like to relive that crazy night again? Just seeing the inflatable Mr. and Mrs. Claus out front, dressed in wedding finery and holding hands, made her stomach stir with new butterflies.
“I want to do this. Besides, the picture is my Christmas present to you.” He gave her one of his rare smiles—more a hitch of the lips than a true smile. “I haven’t had much time for shopping these past few months.”
The reminder of where he’d been touched her, even if his job had taken him away from her.
“In that case...” She couldn’t deny feeling a warm pleasure at his thoughtful surprise. “Thank you.”
“There’s a catch, though.”
“Uh-oh.”
“We’ve got to recreate the whole thing so we’ve got an authentic experience.”
“You don’t mean—”
“We do the whole shebang—dress, tux, flowers, convertible with the chauffer. Are you game?”
“Really? Are you sure this is how you want to spend your Christmas?”
“Are you kidding me? No matter what happens from here, you’re going to be the hottest wife I’ll ever have. Who’s going to believe I ever landed you without photo evidence?”
She laughed. This whole night reminded her of when they’d gotten hitched the first time. Her impetuous decisions, the wild circumstances, the warm expression in Dylan’s eyes that drew her in and made her want to spend decades in that gray gaze. She considered, watching the red and green lights play over his features as a string of flashing holiday bulbs helped advertise “Fresh Floral Arrangements.”
“This is a crazy idea.”
“But you’ll do it?”
She peered around the empty parking lot, the wedding business even slower at this time of year than some of the other staple Las Vegas industries. “At least we won’t have to wait in line.”
He leaned in to give her cheek a kiss. The momentary heat made her want to close her eyes and savor the sensation. The man. She fought the urge to touch the place he’d kissed with her fingers.
“Great. Go find a dress and I’ll arrange the car and driver.”
Twenty minutes later, Arianna emerged from a dressing room in a vintage thirties wedding dress—the same gown she’d rented the first time. Eggshell-white and heavy with beads, the dress had simple lines. A straight skirt and a modest neckline in front but a plunging back that made her feel sexy as she walked. She stood in the foyer of the small building where the chapel sold flowers, photos and accessories to “Make Your Wedding the Memory of a Lifetime!” The lettering on the sign was outlined in pink neon and the “memories”—including being serenaded by an Elvis impersonator or chauffeured through the drive-up window in a pink Cadillac—all came with a price.
“Are you ready, miss?” An attendant in a simple blue dress appeared, blinking bleary eyes even though she produced a bright smile. “I’m Caitlin and I’ll show you to the car.”
Arianna wondered how many other weddings Caitlin would witness before dawn on Christmas morning.
“I’ll do that.” Dylan stepped out of the dressing area on the opposite side of the foyer, his black tuxedo fitted and sleek. Narrow lapels and a black bow tie had classic appeal, but not nearly as much as the man himself. He offered her his arm. “Ready to make it official? Again?”
She didn’t know quite how to answer since she’d planned just to get through the holidays before dissolving the
marriage.
“I thought we were just here for the picture?”
“The camera isn’t going to capture the romance if we’re worrying over divorce papers.” He took her hand and looped it under his elbow so that her palm rested on his forearm. The perfect prom-escort walk. “What were you thinking about the first time we did this?”
Caitlin handed Arianna her bouquet—eggshell white roses mixed with a few pale pink ones. A gorgeous, old-fashioned bouquet that worked well with the dress. She dipped her nose to inhale the fragrance, the soft petals a delicate caress on her cheek.
“What was on my mind?” She smiled, remembering that hot summer night with Dylan. The way she’d sneaked into the men’s dressing area once she was sure he was alone in there. “Hmm...I remember thinking I couldn’t wait to undress you.” She lowered her voice when she said it, but she guessed that Caitlin’s sudden coughing fit meant their wedding consultant had overheard.
His arm tensed beneath her touch, his muscles flexing. Heat leaped between them as his eyes met hers. His gaze dipped briefly to her mouth and back up to her eyes. Her mouth went dry. The rhythm of her heart stumbled and sped up.
“That’s right.” He snapped his fingers, eyes coming alive with a naughty gleam. “I forgot a key part of how this all shook down, didn’t I?”
He wouldn’t. “You don’t mean—”
“Caitlin, will you tell the driver we’ll be out in just a minute? There’s a floral trellis I want to show Arianna that we might want in the photos.”
Dylan’s hand tightened around her arm as he drew her back toward the floral display and deeper into the building.
“I think the driver is ready—” Caitlin began.
“We won’t take long.” He held up a single finger as if to ask for one more moment. Then, his cheek brushed against Arianna’s hair as he leaned close to whisper, “Come on.”
He slid an arm around her waist and propelled her with him toward the floral display. Another day, there might be more workers in the chapel to show them dresses and flowers, but now the bright interior was quiet except for the sound system piping in nonstop holiday carols.
“She’s going to follow us,” Arianna worried aloud, her eyes only vaguely taking in the Christmas bouquets of poinsettias and holly branches mingled with snow-white roses.
“Not fast enough, though.” Dylan tugged her between a narrow walkway of trellises and vine-covered arbors. When they reached the end of the row, he turned her to face him.
They stood, one fast-beating heart to another, and she imagined she wore the same mischievous smile that he did.
“I’m glad you said yes.” His words scratched a husky note, echoing another night.
No matter how much she’d like to blame the tequila that had kicked off his birthday celebration, she’d known exactly what she was doing that night. She’d just had a few less inhibitions.
Now, the past and the present blended until it didn’t matter if they were reliving the old moment or creating a new one. Her hands landed on the front of his tuxedo, the same kind he’d worn the first time since he hadn’t been carrying around his dress blues when they’d tied the knot.
She would have said yes even if he’d been wearing Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt.
“Me, too.” Her thin scrap of voice barely made a sound in the still air between them. She held her breath.
Hoped.
One of his hands cupped her cheek while the other slid around her waist, drawing her close. The beads on her dress poked through the fabric to abrade her skin, but the warmth of Dylan on the other end of that touch made the sensation very, very pleasurable.
His mouth brushed hers with a tenderness that set this kiss apart from any other they’d shared. Gently, he nipped the fullness of her sensitive lower lip, drawing it between his. She all but melted against him, the combination of his heat and scent, his male strength and his obvious desire making her weak in the knees. She fisted his lapels between her fingers, wishing she could hold on to the moment half so fiercely.
The fragrance of freesia and pine boughs mingled with the scent of Dylan’s faded aftershave—spicy and male. She could have breathed it in forever as his tongue stirred a longing in her veins and a deep hunger that could only be satisfied by this man and his strong, capable body.
A discreet cough warned them they weren’t alone.
“Captain and Mrs. Rivera?” a feminine voice intruded on Arianna’s sensual imaginings, calling her back to the moment. “We ask that our couples focus on the ceremony in order to respect our other patrons’ time.”
Dylan broke away from Arianna, her lips cooling fast without his to warm them. He tucked her close and called out to Caitlin, who remained discreetly out of view.
“We’ll be right there.” He smoothed Arianna’s hair away from her face and glanced at her dress before straightening the skirt along her right hip. “I just didn’t want to jinx the whole thing by skipping that part,” he confided for her ears only.
She was still shaky from the kiss and the powerful need pumping through her. She’d missed Dylan, but she hadn’t realized how much and how deeply until that kiss.
“You definitely did the past justice.” Her voice sounded strange to her ears. She hardly recognized that breathy timbre. “I remember being wound tight by the time we said the vows.”
They’d barely made it back to his hotel, clothes coming off in the elevator.
“The same goes for me now.” His eyes locked on hers, his hands still on her waist.
“What were we thinking?” She didn’t want to ruin the moment, but she’d never stopped wondering what had gotten them to the wedding chapel. “What made two smart, thirty-year-old overachievers say to hell with everything and make the most romantic commitment—one that should be so meaningful—on a whim?”
Caitlin cleared her throat on the other side of an arbor covered in artificial orange blossoms. “I’d be happy to show you some more arrangements.”
“We’ve decided we have enough flowers,” Dylan barked back, his eyes never leaving Arianna. “We’re just trying to make sure we go into the sacred state of matrimony with our heads on straight, so we’d like another minute.”
“Oh. Er. Of course.” Their wedding consultant started to walk away, judging by the tap of shoes across tile. “I’ll just be right outside if you need anything. Don’t forget, Santa ends his shift in twenty minutes, so if you’d like photos with him, we should take those soon.”
“Got it,” Dylan called to her, making no move to follow the woman anywhere.
“It’s okay,” Arianna protested, not wanting to put too much emphasis on that night. She picked at a perfect pink petal in her bouquet until it loosened and fell free. “We can get going. I’ve just wondered about it sometimes.”
“Me, too. And you want to know what I think?” He spoke reasonably, as if they were back in high school debating the merits of one video game system over another.
“Yes. Please.” She appreciated that he hadn’t just breezed into town and picked up right where they left off, as enjoyable as that might have been in the short term. He didn’t try to seduce her with his kisses. Instead, he analyzed the passion and helped her find the source.
Because what she felt for Dylan and what had happened between them had sent her life into a tailspin.
“I think we’re both so damn hardworking and ambitious that we’ve put off personal needs for a helluva long time. But when that birthday rolled around...we remembered how great it feels to trust somebody. To connect with someone who really knows you.”
“How well could we have known each other when we hadn’t been together in so long?”
His hands flattened against her rib cage, smoothing a short, heated path up her sides.
“The years don’t matter. The connection was the
re. Is there.”
He sounded so certain it made her want to believe him. Except if that was true...
“Is it wrong to repeat the vows when...you know. We’re not even sure they’re going to last the week, let alone a lifetime?” She hadn’t thought it through that far before, but now that she stood in her wedding gown next to Dylan—again—the ethics of the situation were definitely coming back to bite her.
“We’re not repeating the legal part of the ceremony,” Dylan assured her. “I just paid for all the stuff we’d need to recreate the photos.”
A curious mixture of relief and disappointment curled through. “Oh. Okay.”
“Did I mention you look incredibly beautiful?”
Her heartbeat kicked up again, the tone of his voice affecting her like a caress. She wasn’t going to think about the future beyond today. Christmas day.
Her second-chance wedding with Dylan.
She might be a romantic fool, but no matter what else it might mean, she was definitely going to have a second honeymoon night. And that alone was going to keep her smiling as if she’d just opened the best present ever.
* * *
“THANK YOU FOR the photos,” Arianna said to Dylan as she scrolled through the images on her cell phone.
They’d finished up the pictures relatively quickly once they’d left their floral hideaway. They hadn’t held up any other weddings since business was slow at the chapel on Christmas. Now, back in their own clothes, they strode through the lobby of Ari’s building shortly before dawn, Dylan enjoyed watching the play of expressions on her face as she viewed each new image. For a few extra bucks, he’d dispensed with the fancy formal packages and just had the pictures emailed to her.
“They turned out better than the first ones?” He looked over her shoulder as they stepped inside the elevator. “That was another reason we got this batch of pictures so fast—the photographer felt bad we weren’t happy with the first photos.”
“He made up for it.” She smiled as she pointed toward one of them kissing in the back of the convertible. The way her bouquet rested in her hand made the roses a border along the bottom of the frame, her dark features a gorgeous contrast to the pale flowers.
