“We behaved like a respectable, about-to-be-married couple,” she said rather primly.
He grinned. “Whatever you say, Angelica.”
Each of them was carrying an overnight bag. When Flynt reached for hers, Angelica hung onto it. “I can carry it, thanks.”
“A symbolic gesture, proving to yourself and to me that you intend to carry your own weight in this relationship?” he asked wryly.
“You sound like a profiling agent at the Behavioral Science Unit again. And you’re way off target, former-agent Corrigan. I don’t want you carrying both bags because I want you to have one hand free.” She slipped her hand into his. “So I can hold it.”
They smiled at each other, their eyes telegraphing messages that were not at all dull or conventional and certainly not staid.
“You can gamble right here in the airport.” Angelica glanced around at the slot machines whirring and clanking as travelers continuously deposited coins.
“You can do almost anything, anywhere in this city, at any time, which is why I suggested flying here. We can get married immediately.”
“Wedding chapels open for business twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.” Angelica read a poster as they passed. “Oh, look at that one. We can be married by a licensed Elvis impersonator.”
“It would make an interesting wedding photo, but I have something a little more traditional in mind, sweetheart…”
“The Chapel O’ Love is kind of traditional,” Angelica decided half an hour later as she and Flynt were ushered inside a wedding-cake-shaped chapel. Everything inside, from floor to ceiling, was dazzling white like shiny frosting on a wedding cake. “In an untraditional kind of way.”
“I like to think that describes us and our relationship.” Flynt’s thumb caressed her palm. “Are you ready?”
She nodded her head.
“Nervous?”
Angelica gazed at the white pews, at the altar where the man in white, ready to pronounce them husband and wife by the powers invested in him by the state of Nevada, stood waiting. The Chapel O’ Love was a full-service chapel, which meant everything necessary for the wedding nuptials could be purchased on the premises.
The rings. She and Flynt had selected matching plain gold bands. The flowers for the bouquet; Flynt had insisted on white orchids. She was touched again by the mere notion that he remembered her favorite flower.
Even a witness could be hired to act as a wedding attendant. And so Tiffany, a buxom, leggy blonde wearing a standard but tasteful pale pink gown, was in place at the white altar.
Angelica’s own wedding dress was a white silk sheath given to her by her grandmother before leaving Minneapolis. The endlessly resourceful Kate had arranged for Mollie to bring a selection of dresses to the house where Angelica chose her favorite. The elegant white silk suited her best, Kate had agreed, presenting the dress to her newfound granddaughter with much love.
A tape of “Here Comes the Bride,” the Mendelssohn traditional version, Angelica’s choice out of a large and extremely eclectic music collection, began to play.
Was she nervous? Angelica considered Flynt’s question. Then looked up at his warm blue eyes and shook her head no. “I’ve never been so sure that I was doing the right thing in my whole life.”
“That goes double for me, sweetheart.”
Hand-in-hand, they walked to the altar. There was no father to give the bride away but since her father was a very new presence in her life, it was better this way, Angelica mused. She was giving herself to Flynt—just as he was pledging himself to her.
“Mrs. Flynt Corrigan.” Angelica held out her left hand and admired the wedding ring Flynt had placed on her finger less than an hour before. “Angelica Corrigan.”
“I like the sound of that.” Flynt smiled as he refilled her glass from the bottle of champagne cooling in ice alongside their table.
“Mmm, I do too.”
They exchanged blissful, loving newlywed smiles, oblivious to everything but each other.
They were enjoying a celebratory late supper in a dimly lit restaurant in one of the biggest, glitziest casino hotels along a long wide strip of big, glitzy casino hotels.
“We pulled it off,” Angelica exulted. “Instead of being the Hoodwinked Bride—”
“You successfully hoodwinked the Fortunes.” Flynt chuckled. “Which doesn’t happen very often, I’m fairly sure of that.”
“Well, they’ve never crossed paths with me before,” Angelica added slyly. “Anyway, we had grandmother’s official blessing, remember?”
“I certainly do. Which means if you change your mind and decide you want to return to Minneapolis in time for the reception Mollie’s been planning, nobody will dare to say a word about us skipping out of our own private wedding. Not even your mother, I’d wager. Kate has completely charmed Romina, which put me in further awe of your grandmother.”
“Do you want to go back to Minneapolis for our post-wedding reception, Flynt? Remember, you can have all the tea sandwiches and Devonshire cream with scones that you can eat there.”
“Mind if we pass on the tea sandwiches and Devonshire cream? Let’s stay here and call the Fortunes at our post-wedding reception. We can accept everybody’s good wishes and tell them our plans—”
“That we’ll be living in Minneapolis, at least at first,” she chimed in.
“But we might relocate to Birmingham some time in the future,” he added. They’d agreed to remain flexible in their living arrangements.
Under the table, Angelica ran her fingers along his thigh. Her dark eyes gleamed when she felt his instantaneous response.
He leaned over to whisper something outrageously sexual in her ear. “My loving blushing bride,” he teased, observing her reaction.
“My incredibly imaginative groom,” she shot back, sliding her hand even higher.
He groaned. “If the waiter wasn’t already headed this way with our dinner, I’d pick you up and carry you directly to our room, Mrs. Corrigan.”
The waiter arrived at their table and began to set plates in front of them. The food looked and smelled delicious.
“I have an idea, former-agent Corrigan,” Angelica said brightly, reaching for her fork. “The minute we’re finished eating—”
“I’ll pick you up and carry you directly to our room?”
“You read my mind!” She pretended to be astonished. “Your intuitive skills are extraordinary, Flynt.”
“You’re very loyal, sweetheart. But don’t try to tout my intuitive skills to Gabe and your Fortune uncles and cousins who probably consider me dense rather than intuitive. I don’t think they’ll soon forget that it was Brandon who bested me in first suspecting Casper.”
Angelica shrugged, unconcerned. “You and I had other things on our minds. Like breaking down lifelong restraints and reserves and falling in love with each other.”
“I do love you, Angelica.”
“I love you, Flynt.”
“Forever,” they said at the same time, their voices and their thoughts and their hearts in perfect unison.
A FORTUNE’S CHILDREN WEDDING: THE HOODWINKED BRIDE
Copyright © 1999 by Harlequin Books S.A.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7327-0
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Barbara Boswell for her contribution to the Fortune’s Children series.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the
author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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A Fortune's Children's Wedding Page 24
