Best of Virgins Bundle

by Cathy Williams

  Cole had rented a car at the airport and now, only a few hours after leaving Dallas, they were driving down Las Vegas Boulevard. They’d already stopped to get a marriage license at the Clark County Courthouse, which to Ginny’s utter surprise was open until midnight.

  In the trunk of the car was her overnight bag, a twenty-year-old brown-vinyl creation that had belonged to her mother. It held her nightgown, her toothbrush and all her other toiletries, as well as a change of clothes for tomorrow. According to Cole, there were no return flights to Dallas tonight, so they’d have to stay here, then fly back first thing in the morning.

  Flying. What an experience that had been.

  Feeling that plane swooshing a hundred miles an hour down the runway had left her positively breathless, and it wasn’t until they’d been in the air for several minutes that Cole had managed to pry her fingernails out of his arm. She didn’t feel much more comfortable right now, having that same kind of swoopy sensation in her stomach, only for a totally different reason.

  Cole continued on Las Vegas Boulevard, where one chapel after another, with names like L’Amour Chapel, Chapel of the Flowers and Viva Las Vegas, lined the street. She looked longingly at those that actually looked like chapels, white clapboard structures with flowers and nice shrubs out front and a minimum of neon lights.

  Unfortunately, Cole drove right past those and pulled into the parking lot of one of the most garish buildings Ginny had ever seen. It took her a moment to accept the fact that it was their destination and another moment to convince herself not to fling open the car door and run screaming into the night.

  The building was painted a deep rosy pink, with red shuttered windows and an arch of golden neon bulbs outlining the front door. A pair of six-foot-tall wooden cutout cupids guarded the entrance with their little bows and arrows poised for attack. Even with the car windows closed, she could hear an outdoor speaker blaring, “I Love You Truly.” And the sign out front, illuminated with three gigantic floodlights, read Cupid’s Little Chapel of Love.

  Ginny couldn’t believe her eyes. She stared dumbly, words escaping her completely.

  Cole glanced at her, then killed the car engine. “It was the only one with a Saturday night appointment left.”

  “Oh,” Ginny said. Just oh. What else could she say?

  “This is strictly business, Ginny,” he said. “Remember that.”

  Thank God it was only business. If this were the place where she was going to have a wedding for real, she’d have her face in her hands right now, sobbing uncontrollably. She hoped it would be better on the inside.

  No such luck.

  The reception area was draped in huge swaths of cheap red-and-pink fabric, with benches upholstered in something that looked like red velveteen. And cupids were everywhere. There were pictures of cupids on the walls. Cupid figurines on the reception counter. Cupids flying in formation on the border paper at the ceiling. It looked like a huge, gaudy Valentine’s Day card somebody would send as a practical joke.

  Cole motioned for her to sit down on a bench while he went to the reception desk to confirm their reservation, then returned to sit next to her. She squeezed over to give him room, which put her almost thigh-to-thigh with the guy sitting next to her, though she doubted he realized it. His attention seemed to be focused on the flamboyant redhead in his lap. Her arms were looped around his neck, and they were smooching and giggling, totally oblivious to the other people in the room.

  Across from them sat a petite little blonde and a painfully thin guy with long, dark hair. Neither of them looked a day over twenty. She looked pregnant. He looked panic-stricken. Another couple sat next to them wearing shorts and T-shirts, looking as if they were waiting in line for a ride at Disney World.

  Then Ginny wondered, What do I look like to them?

  She’d worn her navy blue dress with the lace collar, because somehow she felt that no matter what the reason she was getting married, she really ought to look her best. Cole, on the other hand, wore a pair of jeans, a denim shirt and boots. If they hadn’t been sitting right next to each other, not a soul would have taken them for a couple.

  Approximately every ten minutes, a couple would leave the chapel, and a short, stout woman whose name tag read Myrna would come out to the reception area and call another name. The couple sitting next to Ginny tied the knot, then stumbled out the door. So did the pregnant couple. Then the Disney World people went in, and Ginny felt a tremor of panic.

  It’s not a real wedding, she kept telling herself. It’s just pretend.

  Several minutes passed. Then the chapel door opened, the Disney World people left, and Myrna called Cole’s name.

  Ginny rose and walked with Cole into the chapel, where she saw that the cupid theme wasn’t confined to the reception area. A man stood at the back of the room in a shiny brown suit and narrow tie, his wispy gray hair falling in skinny strings over his ears. Another man stood to one side, armed with an assortment of cameras. Myrna consulted her clipboard.

  “Okay, let’s see what we’re doing here,” she said, running her fingertip down the page. Then a startled look came over her face. “There seems to be a mistake.”

  “Mistake?” Cole said.

  “Yes. It says here you’re not purchasing a video. Not even any photos. Is that correct?”

  “That’s correct.”

  Her gaze slid farther down the page, her expression growing progressively more distressed. “Champagne flutes—no. Picture postcards—no. His-and-hers commemorative T-shirts—no.” Her gaze panned to Cole, her brow furrowed accusingly. “Do you mean to tell me you’re not even going to buy a fresh-flower bouquet for your fiancée?”

  “Is there a problem with that?” Cole said.

  Myrna turned her gaze to Ginny. Ginny shrugged helplessly.

  The woman pursed her lips with displeasure, eyeing Cole as if he were the most vile creature who’d ever slithered into Cupid’s Little Chapel of Love. She set her clipboard down, then grabbed a tattered bouquet of silk flowers off a chair and handed it to Ginny with a sympathetic smile. “Here, sweetie. You take this. It’s on the house.” Then she turned and shot Cole a look so nasty Ginny was surprised he didn’t turn to stone.

  Then Myrna leaned in close to Ginny, dropping her voice. “You sure about this?”

  No. She wasn’t the least bit sure about it, but she’d come too far to turn back now.

  “It’s okay,” she told Myrna. “Really. We’re just on a tight budget, that’s all. My fiancé is very…thrifty.”

  “Thrifty’s one thing,” Myrna whispered. “Being a tightwad’s another.”

  “Can we get on with it?” Cole said.

  Myrna put her fists on her hips and glared at him. “You in some kinda hurry or what?”

  “Lady, if we weren’t in a hurry, would we be in Vegas?”

  Myrna sniffed with disgust, then turned to Ginny. “You haven’t said ‘I do’ yet. There’s still plenty of time to say you don’t.”

  “Hey!” Cole said. “Are you in the business of marrying people, or breaking them up?”

  The man in the ugly brown suit let out a long-suffering sigh. “Myrna, honey, this is the third one you’ve gotten in the middle of tonight. If we’re gonna make the bills this month, you might want to think about letting this one go.”

  “But, Henry—”

  “If they’re meant for each other, fine. If they’re not, another lawyer makes a killing. Either way, it’s none of our business. Now, start the music.”

  Myrna tossed Cole one last sneer, then turned to her husband with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Fine,” she muttered. “Guess I can’t save ’em all. Make it permanent, Henry.”

  Permanent. If only the woman knew.

  Myrna fired up the music, and Henry started the ceremony. Through it all, Ginny felt Myrna’s eyes on her, the all-knowing eyes of a woman who could spot a love match at fifty paces and knew for a fact that this wasn’t one of them. Ginny tried to ignore her, concentra
ting instead on Henry’s words, but soon his voice became nothing more than a droning buzz.

  Then he got to the part about the ring, and when Ginny realized Cole didn’t have one, she furtively yanked the ring off the fourth finger of her right hand, a gold one with three diamond chips she’d gotten as a bonus gift for opening a new account at the bank. She slipped it into Cole’s hand. He looked totally fed up with the whole thing.

  So did Myrna.

  He put the ring on her left hand and mumbled the appropriate words. Henry asked for their “I do’s.” They complied, and he pronounced them man and wife.

  Ginny realized she’d been holding her breath and she let it out in one long, silent exhalation. Okay, that hadn’t been so bad. She’d expected to feel different somehow, but she didn’t. She supposed it was because she wasn’t really married, not in the true sense of the word. It was just a business deal. Nothing soul-searching or earth-shattering. Nothing at all to get excited about. Nothing—

  “You may kiss the bride,” Henry said.

  Her heart nearly stopped. How could she have forgotten about this part?

  She turned to Cole, wondering what he had in mind. If the look on his face meant anything, kissing wasn’t it. But Myrna was giving him that chastising look again, tap-tap-tapping her toe, so he finally gave up and placed a dry, perfunctory kiss on her lips.

  Myrna’s stout little body heaved with disgust. She looked at Henry and shook her head sadly.

  Henry peeked over the top of his bifocals. “Boy, unless you’re planning on sleeping alone tonight, you’d best get to kissin’ like you mean it.”

  Cole glared at the proprietors of Cupid’s Little Chapel of Love for a good five seconds, then finally spat out a breath of resignation.

  “Aw, what the hell.”

  He took hold of Ginny’s arm, pulled her against him, then swept her backward and dropped his mouth down on hers. Every bit of the passion that had been absent from their wedding ceremony exploded in a kiss so hot that she was afraid Cupid’s Little Chapel of Love was going to spontaneously combust.

  She heard a gasp of shock from Myrna and a sound that just might have been Henry’s jaw hitting the floor. But all she could do was lie back in Cole’s arms, helpless as a rag doll, clutching his shoulders blindly as his mouth consumed hers. If the kiss he’d given her last night was a hundred dollars’ worth, she was going to have to win the lottery to pay for this one. Of course, he was doing it only as a backlash against Myrna’s extreme displeasure with him, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy it just the same.

  After kissing her for what seemed like forever, Cole slowly brought her back to her feet. Once they had a few quick signatures on the marriage license, he swept her out the door. Ginny glanced over her shoulder to see Myrna’s face fixed in a mask of total disbelief, and she thought she heard Myrna say something to Henry about how flowers were one thing, but a man who could kiss like that was something else entirely, and maybe Ginny knew what she was doing after all.

  COLE THOUGHT the brain-dead night clerk at the Paradise Hotel was never going to get them the key to their room. Ginny had excused herself to go to the ladies’ room while he registered, leaving him standing there tapping his fingertips on the desk, obsessed with one thought only. Getting on with the honeymoon. And it had started the moment he’d kissed her.

  Up to that point, he’d been thinking of nothing but getting the ceremony over with, especially when it appeared as if Ma and Pa Kettle were going to drag it on forever. Consequently, he hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about what came after their “I do’s.” But the minute he’d laid his lips on Ginny’s again, he remembered how soft and sweet she’d felt last night, melting in his arms, getting her first taste of kissing and loving it.

  Tonight he could give her a taste of something else.

  Finally the clerk gave him the key. He intercepted Ginny coming from the ladies’ room and headed for an open elevator. As they ascended, he was consumed with the thought of seeing what was underneath that pristine little dress she was wearing. Not that he expected any big surprises. She would be wearing white cotton panties with a matching bra that had one of those little pink roses at the cleavage, and he couldn’t imagine anything less provocative. But he could remove both those things in short order, right after he took her hair down from that prissy little barrette and peeled her dress right off her.

  He was crazy even to think it, of course. She’d gone nuts at the very idea that they might have had sex last night. What would she say about doing it tonight?

  Then again, they were married now. Women like Ginny undoubtedly put great stock in such things, requiring pieces of paper with official signatures before they did something as fun and meaningless as have sex. Well, they were married. He had that piece of paper to prove it. So what was to stop them?

  Absolutely nothing.

  A moment later they stepped off the elevator and headed down the hall to room 2413. He unlocked the door and swung it open, motioning for her to enter.

  “Oh!” she said as she walked in, turning around, her face filled with wonder. “Look at this room!”

  Actually, the decor was fairly modest, with a navy-and-gold floral bedspread, navy drapes tied back with gold sashes and dark walnut furniture. Only one weak lamp illuminated the room, which helped mask the fact that the place could use a good coat of paint. Still, Ginny seemed thrilled with it. Given the house where she lived, he figured anything the least bit upscale would look good to her.

  With her overnight bag and her purse still draped over her shoulder, she hurried to the window. She opened the drapes and looked down twenty-four stories to the street below.

  “Oh! Look at all the lights! I can’t believe how beautiful it is!”

  Cole clicked the door shut.

  Ginny spun around. She stared at him, first with surprise, then with confusion. Then her gaze circled the room, finally coming to rest on the king-size bed. She looked at Cole, and even at the distance between them, he saw her swallow hard, staring at him like a scared rabbit.

  He smiled to himself. In a matter of a few minutes, he would have all that doubt kissed right out of her, and before she knew it, she would be naked in his bed. And he would make sure she didn’t regret it. He didn’t remember a time in his life when a woman had left his bed unhappy, and he didn’t intend to have her be the first. Tomorrow morning when they woke up, she would be right there for him again. And when they got home to Coldwater, she would be there for him every single day, and it surprised him just how appealing the thought of that was. He never would have imagined it, but there was definitely something to be said for being a married man.

  With a casual sweep of his arm he tossed his suitcase onto the floor, then started toward her.

  5

  GINNY STOOD with her back to the window, staring at Cole in the dim light of the hotel room. Something about the look on his face sent shivers of apprehension shooting up her spine, and her heart leaped into a quick, erratic rhythm.

  “Wh-what’s the matter?” she asked.

  “Nothing’s the matter,” he murmured, his voice silky smooth and hot as sin. “Absolutely nothing.”

  He moved across the room, closing the space between them in measured increments, his eyes fixed on hers in an unwavering stare.

  “Wh-where’s your room?” she asked him.

  “My room?” He laughed softly. “You’re standing in it.”

  “Oh. Then…where’s my room?”

  “You’re standing in it.”

  “Cole?”

  “Yes?”

  “There’s only one bed in this room.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Why didn’t you get two rooms?”

  “Waste of money. We’re married.”

  “But—”

  “We slept together last night.”

  “Yes, I know, but—”

  He stopped in front of her. She took a step backward and bumped into the window, staring at
him. He put his hand on the window near her right ear and leaned in closer still.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “What do you think I’m doing?”

  “I…don’t know.”

  He teased his fingertip along her neck just above the collar of her dress. “Don’t you?”

  For a full five seconds, Ginny stopped breathing. She felt as if she’d gotten struck by lightning and it had zapped all her muscle strength. He didn’t mean…he couldn’t mean…

  “You…you said this was a business arrangement.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of mixing business with pleasure?”

  He leaned in to kiss her. She recoiled sharply to one side, placing her palms against his chest. “Wait a minute. You never said anything about wanting to do…this.”

  “You never said anything about not wanting to do…this.”

  “But we’re not really married.”

  “I have a license that says we are.”

  “But I never thought—”

  He took her purse off her shoulder and tossed it aside.

  “We never talked about—”

  He grabbed her overnight bag and tossed it next to her purse.

  “I was sure you understood—”

  He reached around her neck with both hands, and her heart nearly stopped. He unclasped the barrette holding her hair at the nape of her neck, tossed it onto the dresser, then spread her hair on her shoulders. He picked up a handful, letting it spill through his fingers and fall in ripples against her lace collar. He inched closer, so close she felt his body heat, and an unfamiliar physical awareness swept over her that was scary and mysterious and exciting all at the same time.

  “You have beautiful hair,” he whispered.

  Ginny felt a jolt of pure exhilaration. It was the first time in her life that somebody had used the word beautiful in reference to any part of her. His words thrilled her, but at the same time they were totally unreal. She wasn’t beautiful. Not in any way. So why was he telling her that?