by Alyssa Kress
"You're getting marr — ? Look, Roy, I'm in the middle of a really big game. They're bleeding blinds off my stack as we speak. I don't have time for jokes."
"Kenny." Roy grinned at the ceiling. "Have you ever known me to make a joke?"
There was a short pause over the phone connection. "Good point." Kenny paused again. "Let me get this straight. You're getting married?"
"I am." Though Valerie had yet to agree. Indeed, officially, she was still thinking about it. That hadn't stopped Roy from haranguing the concierge into renting him a nice meeting room for the ceremony, nor from ordering flowers, a pair of wedding rings, and arranging for a minister who'd be squeezing them in between previously scheduled weddings in the traditional chapels. He'd also used a little of the influence that could be bought with money to arrange a clerk from the county office to come issue a license. Details.
No, Valerie's hesitancy hadn't stopped Roy at all.
"Okay, okay," Kenny said. "I'm not sure which is the more pertinent question: who? Or why?"
"You'll meet her tomorrow," Roy told Kenny. "And as for why, well you could say 'the usual reasons.'"
"Like you've fallen madly in love? Ha!" Suddenly Kenny got enthusiastic. "Wait a minute, it's the brunette, right? Oh, man, I knew there was something going on there."
Roy sighed. "It's the brunette." Kenny would find out, anyway.
There was smug laughter from the other side of the phone. "So she didn't mean anything, huh?"
Kenny sounded so insufferably self-satisfied that Roy couldn't help himself. "I'm not in love with her. She's pregnant."
"Oh," Kenny said. "Whoa."
"So," Roy asked, "will you be there?"
"I — of course. But Roy, are you sure about this?" Kenny had switched from gloating to an almost endearing protectiveness. "I mean, making a woman pregnant doesn't have to lead to marriage these days." His voice got hard. "She's not forcing you, is she? Threatening?"
"Actually, she's downright leery about tying the knot." Roy was quick to defend Valerie, but hesitated before adding, "And she doesn't know about my money."
"Huh." Kenny was silent a minute. "She doesn't know about your money."
"No." And that was fine. Roy didn't want the money to be a factor in her decision.
"So-o-o-o. You really are in love with her."
Roy's eyes widened. "No." Would Kenny let it go already? "I...got carried away that one night. Admittedly. But that's over. This is just about the baby."
"Just about the baby."
"That's right."
"Huh," Kenny said.
"Ten-thirty," Roy reminded him. "I couldn't get one of the chapels on such short notice, but they promised to fix up a meeting room, with flowers and so forth. They'll let you know at the desk the exact room number. Oh, and I guess it would be good if you could get there a little early."
"Uh huh," Kenny said. "Just about the baby." He laughed, muffled. "Who else is coming?"
"Who else needs to? I only need one witness."
"The Prof," Kenny demanded. "Invite him."
Roy scowled. "You keep wanting to sic Isaac on me. Anyway, he usually works on Sunday."
"He'll come." Kenny was laughing again. "If you're getting married, he'll damn well show up."
"And will probably talk our ears off." This was a blatantly unfair characterization. Though Isaac Franck was way over-educated, with degrees in psychology, law, and religion, he was sparse with his tongue. The problem was that what he did say usually cut deep.
"I'm willing to take that chance," Kenny proclaimed. "You want me to call him?"
Roy hesitated, then shook away his cowardice. He was marrying the mother of his child. It was the right thing to do. He wasn't afraid of the Prof. "Nah, I'll call Isaac. Just remember. Ten-thirty, or earlier."
"I'll be bloodshot, but I'll be there."
Roy hung up the phone and smiled wryly. He was sure Kenny would show up. Isaac Franck would find a way to attend, too.
The only person left to convince was the bride.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"I'm going to marry him." The next morning, Valerie gazed at herself in the bathroom mirror of her suite at Mandalay Bay and grimaced.
Just how badly was she determined to screw up her life here? She was going to marry the wolf, a man she didn't even know? Indeed, the only solid fact she had about him was he played poker for a living!
"I'm not screwing up anything." In the mirror, Valerie made an effort to look dignified. "It's a legal convenience, that's all." Roy was right. It would make everything clear with regard to custody. Not easier, necessarily, but definitely clearer.
Such clarity might prevent the ugly legal battle Valerie was now certain would occur if they didn't get married. Her stomach squeezed into a knot. Who would have guessed Roy'd even be interested in custody?
He'd not only been interested, but adamant.
His determination to be involved was inconvenient, to be sure, but also...admirable. She couldn't work herself up to oppose him on it.
"He is the father." She let out a deep breath, trying to unknot her stomach. "He has every right to be involved. He should be involved." This was true. As for marriage, it would validate Roy's involvement in the most straightforward way possible, one least liable to dispute by either side.
She took a step back from the mirror. "After that, I can get divorced. I can get divorced any time I want."
This wasn't really marriage so much as a legal maneuver.
Valerie rubbed her hands down her face and turned from the mirror. "I ought to call him, tell him." It was almost ten.
She glanced toward the telephone on the night table, but made no move toward it. The problem was that Roy — Well, he was so terribly beautiful. She was still very affected by him.
It didn't help when he acted all sweet, like he had last night. Outside her hotel room door, he'd taken both her hands and his gaze had been gentle — almost tender.
That gaze had made a dangerous warmth spark to life in her chest.
"Listen, we're on the same side here." His hands had squeezed hers. "I want you to know that. The same side."
Idiotic tears had sprung to her eyes. She'd closed them, quick, before he could see. But that had been so what she'd needed to hear. That she wasn't alone. That everything would be all right. For a minute, she'd nearly believed he had some concern about her, personally.
Then she'd opened her eyes to see him giving her a cool, distant smile.
"Let's talk again before ten, all right, Valerie? I don't want this issue...lingering." His smile turned somewhat stern.
Because their potential marriage was an "issue." Of course it was. He didn't care about her, personally. He saw her as a...prospective business associate.
But this was exactly what one would have expected of him, what one would actually want of him, Valerie assured herself.
In her hotel room, Valerie stared at the burnt-gold covers of the bed and tamped down a peculiar tightness in her chest. Right, she didn't want personal caring from Roy. That would be very foolish. She barely knew him.
Releasing a deep, quivering sigh, she took a step back and wondered where she'd put her shoes. It was time to go see that business associate, and admit she was ready to marry him.
~~~
He answered his door about five seconds after she knocked. Valerie wasn't prepared for that. She wasn't prepared for how unsteady her legs would be or how bowled over she'd feel, once again, by his purely masculine presence.
"Valerie," he said calmly.
"Ahem. Roy." Valerie struggled for some calm of her own. What she was about to do was purely legal. There was no reason to feel nervous.
He was wearing dress slacks, and over his beige shirt a different cashmere sweater, of muted grays, browns and blacks. A tie was visible in the v-neck of his sweater.
A tie?
"Why don't you come in?" Roy stood back from the door.
Telling herself there was no reason to fe
el nervous, no reason at all, Valerie stepped through. Her brain dimly recognized the room, and saw no significant differences from the night before, except that Roy's laptop had disappeared from the desk. She forced herself to breathe, while the rest of her brain squawked. What are you doing? There has to be a better, smarter alternative than this! Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to come up with that better alternative, even though she'd spent the entire night trying to do just that.
When she heard Roy close the door, she turned to face him.
Clasping his hands behind his back, he asked, "So?"
Valerie swallowed. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a high cliff. Was she really going to marry him? No matter what she told herself about putting her fantasies on a shelf, he still was the stuff of fantasies — raw male with a thin veneer of civilization.
He tilted his head. Calm, poised.
Valerie drew in a breath. Dammit, she could be the same: calm, poised...detached. She didn't have to step off any cliffs. "Yes," she heard herself say. It came out amazingly cool, delightfully serene. "Yes, I agree. Marriage does make sense. I'll do it."
Roy went absolutely still. For a moment Valerie worried he hadn't actually wanted her to say yes. Then something strange happened, something even more incomprehensible. He smiled.
This was no polite or social smile. This was a smile of savage conquest, something Alexander the Great or Napoleon Bonaparte must have worn when some recalcitrant enemy fell into a well-laid trap.
He quickly tempered the thing, but Valerie had seen. He'd very much wanted her to say yes. Indeed, he'd been ready to charge into battle over the issue.
"Excellent." Roy's smile was now significantly less bloodthirsty. "I knew you would do the right thing, the decent one."
He had? "Well, uh. I tried to think about what would be best for the baby."
"Yes." His dark lashes descended a fraction. "And our getting married is definitely best for the baby." He looked down at his watch. "The minister should be ready in twenty minutes, so I suppose we ought to go down, see if Kenny and Isaac have arrived."
Valerie blinked a few times. "Excuse me?"
Roy waved a hand in the air. "Poker friends of mine. We need a witness. One of them ought to do."
"Witnesses?" Valerie's cool and assured voice had gone hoarse and wavery. The minister? "I, uh. What are you talking about?" But she knew.
Roy seemed to think she did, too. "We've decided. There's no point in delaying. So I arranged the wedding for this morning. The minister is squeezing us in between other ceremonies, so we have to be on time."
The wedding. She'd known he was going to say that, but Valerie had to put one hand up to her chest and make sure her heart was still beating. She'd agreed to this marriage, in principle. The idea of actually doing it was something else. "Uh, now wait a minute. I don't know... That is, how did you — ?"
"I arranged everything last night." He appeared, briefly, hunted. "Ahem, just in case. Like I said, now that we've decided it's what we want to do, there's no sense delaying."
No sense, except in truly thinking it through and making sure she wasn't out of her mind. "Well, uh, Roy, let's take a time-out here."
His head tilted. "I thought you agreed to marry me."
"Well, yes. Yes, I did."
His eyes narrowed. "Are you changing your mind? Is that what you're saying?"
"No! No, I'm not saying that at all." Although, maybe she was. If she had more time, maybe she could come up with another way to handle the situation.
Roy's look turned challenging.
Valerie raised her hands. "I intend to marry you." She made this definite. Indeed, hadn't she spent most of the night trying to come up with another solution, to no avail? "It's just... Today?"
His chin lifted. "What other day did you have in mind?"
Her hands lowered. Good question. If they were going to go through with this, why not right now? And yet...
Roy's brows rose. He was waiting for an answer. If not today, then when?
When it would mean something.
The answer came to Valerie like a blow, painful and unexpected. She found herself staring at Roy, with his rough, handsome features and his deep-in-the-bones masculinity. A man she craved in a variety of ways — but didn't really know at all.
Surely she didn't expect this legal maneuver marriage to mean anything. Ever. Surely not.
They'd enjoyed a one-night stand together. Sex. Not love. And temporary sex at that. Please. For a lot of reasons, she couldn't afford to wait around hoping a wedding ceremony between them was ever going to mean something.
She cleared her throat. "You're right. Again, you're right. There is no reason to delay."
His brows lowered. "I want you to be sure about this, Valerie."
She smiled. "I'm sure." The wedding was a pure formality. Taking care of it was something she felt perfectly ready to do. Heck, she didn't even need to change her clothes. The black slacks and wool sweater she had on would do.
Roy kept frowning. "You're doing the right thing, Valerie. We both are."
"I know that. So let's do it."
He hesitated, then stepped forward to take her arm. It was a firm touch, a very nearly possessive one.
In her addled brain only, Valerie told herself. Jeez, she had to get a grip here. The man wasn't interested in her, but in his baby. That was it: the baby.
~~~
"I hope this is all right." Roy let go of Valerie's arm to open the door of a room off the wide, carpeted hall of the hotel's mezzanine level. "I couldn't get either of the chapels on such short notice."
Valerie shot him a questioning look. Why would he want one of the chapels for the kind of wedding they were having? She was in her work slacks, for goodness' sake. "I'm sure anything will be all right," she murmured as she walked through the door.
"Ah!" A man of healthy, outdoor looks stepped forward from the center of the room. "So here's the famous bride." He was smiling widely. Next to him stood a thin older man wearing glasses.
Valerie's attention was half caught by the two men, and half caught by the twin flower arrangements on either side of a podium artfully draped with peach-colored linen.
"Uh, how do you do?" she mumbled, while taking in the rest of the elegant meeting room. There was a table set with a peach-colored tablecloth, upon which rested another arrangement of flowers. Decorated. The room was decorated.
"This is Kenny Doubletree," Roy told Valerie. "Like I said before, a poker friend. And this is Isaac Franck, a professor at the university." He smiled widely. "Believe it or not, another poker friend."
"How do you do?" Valerie was doing her best to hold onto her composure while she took in the suits the men were wearing, as if they were attending a real wedding. And the flowers...
"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Kenny, the healthy, outdoors one. He shook her hand vigorously.
The other man, the one Roy had called a professor, was far less ebullient. Valerie felt her anxiety ease beneath his calm, accepting smile.
"How do you do — uh...?" He paused with a polite question in his eyes.
"Oh. I'm Valerie."
"Pleased to meet you, Valerie." The professor smiled again in a soothing, slightly weary way.
Friends, Valerie thought. These weren't merely handy witnesses. Roy had invited his friends.
The Kenny Doubletree fellow stuck his hands in his trouser pockets and rocked forward on the balls of his feet. "And I am extremely pleased to meet you. The first and only woman to bring Roy to holy matrimony." He grinned. "Not to mention you prevented Roy from blowing town today."
Startled, Valerie shot her gaze toward Roy. He'd been about to leave town?
Roy threw a scowl at his friend before turning smoothly back to Valerie. "A whim. That's all. I was going to enter a poker tournament in Atlantic City, but it doesn't matter now."
"Ah, that's not how you put it to me last night," Kenny said. "It was going to be the first step in you
r training for the World Series of Poker."
"A whim," Roy repeated firmly. "Nothing to bother Valerie about."
"Mm hm." Kenny looked like he was holding back laughter with difficulty. "Does that mean you've given up on the World Series idea?"
Roy took a lofty tone. "Looks like I'll have other things on my mind for the next few months."
Kenny laughed, while Valerie felt herself pale.
"Oh no," she stammered. "I don't think — That is, you'll have time, all the time in the world." It was only after the baby was born he might be busy, should he still want to be involved. For the next eight months he'd be free as a breeze.
Roy gave her a narrow-eyed look, but whatever he might have said was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Ah." His expression eased back into a smile. "That'll be the minister."
Valerie felt her stomach somersault. Already?
At the door, Roy greeted a white-haired man in a navy blue suit. After shaking the man's hand, Roy turned back to meet Valerie's eyes with a wink.
A wink? How was she supposed to take a wink?
"Meet Mr. Burton," Roy told Valerie.
Mr. Burton immediately began to apologize. "I usually have time for at least a phone call to the bride and groom. So please tell me, any particular requests regarding the ceremony? I can do Traditional, Jewish, Catholic, or New Age." He gazed earnestly toward Valerie.
"Oh, um...simple," Valerie told him. "Please, just keep it simple."
But 'simple' hadn't been one of the choices. Mr. Burton threw Roy an anxious look.
"Traditional will be fine." Roy patted him on the shoulder, then looked straight at Valerie. He was nearly vibrating with eagerness. "Shall we get started?"
Valerie felt a pulse pound fast and hard in her forehead. The way Roy was looking at her, earnest and sincere, was unfortunately reminding her of the way he'd looked at her that night on the pool deck of the Paris Hotel — and that's how she'd gotten into this mess in the first place.
Add to that the big flower arrangements, the friends in suits, and the bucket she'd just noticed with a bottle that looked suspiciously like champagne sticking out of it. If she wasn't careful, she might read more into all this than there was. She might imagine Roy was acting...romantic, or something stupid like that.
