by Seton, Cora
“Look,” he said, pushing past her into the room and shutting the door behind him. He dropped his hat on her bed and ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “I get it. Maybe yesterday we went too far, too fast.” He didn’t think that at all, though. He thought their time together had been perfect and the idea that she might regret being with him nearly slayed him. “We’ll back things off and take it slow, but we can’t put off you coming home with me.”
“I don’t think I can keep the story straight for six weeks.”
Zane cocked his head. Before he’d met Kenna, he wouldn’t have pegged her as a stickler for the truth. She’d come across so mercenary in her e-mails. It was the one thing that had assured him this could work. But yesterday he’d discovered everything he’d assumed about Kenna was wrong, down to her appearance. She barely looked like that old photograph she’d sent him. It was taken at a distance too far to reconcile individual features, but even the shape of her face seemed different.
“It’s just so long to pretend,” she went on. “I’ll be on pins and needles the whole time.”
“It’s the length of time you’re worried about? Not the marriage itself?” He felt a spurt of hope.
She nodded. “You signed the pre-nup already. I trust that you’ll follow the plan. I know you’re in this for your inheritance, not for some other nefarious reason.” She smiled lopsidedly and he could tell she was trying to bolster her own courage.
He laced his hands behind his neck, searching for a way to put her mind at ease. One thing he knew for sure—he didn’t want to lose her now. Not just because he needed her to secure his inheritance, but because she entranced him like no other woman he’d ever met. He needed the chance to get to know her better to see if there could be something more between them than a fake relationship—to see if she could renew his belief in love.
He wanted her for far more than a fling.
What Gunnery Sergeant Zane Hall wants, Gunnery Sergeant Zane Hall gets.
His mouth curved in memory of one of his men shouting that out in a victory toast after he’d secured a brand new, state of the art gaming system for their base in Kandahar when the old one kept breaking down.
Damn straight. He might not be in the military anymore, but he hadn’t changed. He’d locked on his target: Kenna North.
And he knew exactly how to secure her.
“We won’t wait six weeks to be married,” he said, taking her hands in his. “We’ll do it today—right now—but we won’t tell anyone. We’ll go back to the ranch afterwards as planned and do our best to stick out the remainder of the time until the real wedding. If at any point you think you can’t take it anymore, you’ll leave. We’ll make up an emergency and once you’re gone I’ll reveal to my family that it doesn’t matter—we already eloped.”
“Your aunt will accept that?”
“She’ll have to, but we’ll hope it doesn’t come to that, right?” he bluffed. In truth, Heloise would do no such thing, so he’d have to make damn sure Storm stayed. “Haven’t you always wanted to spend six weeks on a ranch with a handsome Marine?” He struck a body-builder’s pose, trying to lighten the mood.
Storm’s mouth twitched. “You got me there. What girl wouldn’t want a big country wedding to the stranger of her dreams?” She snapped her mouth shut, as if she’d said something she hadn’t meant to voice aloud. Faint color traced over her cheeks.
“The stranger of your dreams, huh?” Zane knew he should let that pass, but her wording made his spirits soar. Bingo. She wasn’t nearly as immune to wanting him as she was trying to make out. Their time together yesterday had hooked her as much as it did him.
“We’d better get going. Didn’t you say your family was waiting for you?”
“I’d better make a call first to see if we can see the Justice of the Peace on such short notice.” He was looking forward to teasing her some more, however.
Just as soon as they were married.
Storm fidgeted on the hard plastic seat in the waiting room at the county court building. She wasn’t sure how Zane had pulled it off, but with only a couple of phone calls he’d managed to connect with someone he’d known a long time ago and asked his help in securing an appointment for a civil marriage. Apparently they’d lucked out; a local judge was presiding over weddings today and he had room in his calendar for another appointment. Now they waited in a small antechamber as couples disappeared into a larger room and reappeared holding hands and smiling at each other. Storm wondered what all their stories were. She wondered if anyone else could possibly be as nervous as she was. She was marrying the cowboy. Kenna’s cowboy. In Kenna’s name. This all had to be a huge mistake, but somehow she couldn’t stop what was happening. She didn’t want to.
Zane had taken her hand when they sat down, and she tried to draw comfort from his strong, calloused fingers, but she was failing miserably. As the minutes ticked by she was beginning to think she might faint. All her life she’d been so law abiding. So responsible.
What was she doing?
Just when she couldn’t stand it anymore—when she opened her mouth to call everything off—the receptionist spoke up.
“Zane Hall?” The woman looked over her bifocals at them. “You’re up next.” She pointed at the double doors to the right of her utilitarian desk.
“Ready?” Zane stood up and tugged Storm to her feet. The butterflies in her stomach picked up speed. No, she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t going to do this. She couldn’t marry a stranger and pledge her life to him forever. She couldn’t—
Zane squeezed her hand and smiled down at her. “Come on. What do you say we go get hitched?” The gleam in his eyes provoked an answering throb deep down inside of her and her breath faltered. There was something strong and steely behind the joke, as if he meant more than his teasing words might let on. Was he saying he wanted something other than a fake marriage?
There wasn’t time to figure it out.
As Zane led her into the next room, she didn’t pull away, though. She couldn’t if she’d tried. She wanted what that look of his promised. She wanted everything and anything the cowboy had to give her. There was no way she’d walk out on the ceremony now and give up what little time she had with Zane. She knew it was all temporary. She wouldn’t fool herself by pretending that this marriage was real.
But she wished it was. God, how she wished it.
What would it be like to pledge her love to a man like Zane? To say her vows and mean them? She shivered as she remembered the way they’d been together the previous day, and desire swept through her. It would be heaven to be wed to Zane. As insane as it was to think she knew this man, or could predict what a life with him would be like, instinct told her she was right where she belonged, walking arm in arm with Zane toward the judge who would preside over their wedding. They may have put the cart before the horse—the wedding before they fell in love—but that didn’t mean a thing.
Storm sighed as they walked side by side into the large, plain room where a man in black robes bent over a desk and a middle aged woman with graying hair watched them approach. She must be losing her mind. Romantic nonsense, that’s all this was. She’d watched too many movies. Read too many fairy tales. There’d be no happily ever after with Zane. She wasn’t even marrying him under her real name.
The man looked up. “Are you my next victims?”
“That’s right.” Zane shook his hand. “Zane Hall. This is Kenna North.”
Cold, hard shame pierced through her. How could she daydream about marrying Zane for real when she had lied to him right from the outset? How would he react if he knew she wasn’t even Kenna—that Kenna couldn’t bother to stop climbing mountains long enough to marry him in person and had sent a proxy in her place?
Zane would be furious, she was sure of that.
“Marriage license?”
Zane handed it over as Storm began to tremble with the enormity of what she was doing. It wasn’t just Zane’s anger she had to fear if this
was a criminal act, marrying under a false name. The judge made a notation on a piece of paper. “Identification?”
Storm fumbled to get the catch on her bag open, her fingers slick with sweat, and for a minute she thought she’d left the fake driver’s license behind in the motel room. Panicking, she opened her bag wider and let out the breath she’d been holding when her hand closed around it. Why was she so relieved, she wondered as the judge copied her information onto his paperwork? Was it because she hadn’t been exposed as a liar? Or because her marriage to Zane—as false as it was—would go on?
When the Judge handed her license back, she shoved it far down in her bag saying a prayer of thanks that she wasn’t being hauled off to jail—yet. Zane tugged her hand until she looked up at him. He leaned in close. “I agree with you,” he said in a low voice.
“About what?” she whispered back. Had he read her mind? Did he think she was a criminal?
“I only want to do this once.”
Another chill tingled down her spine, but this was altogether different from the guilty emotions that had almost overwhelmed her. “Only want to do what once?”
“Get married.” He pulled her close and brushed a kiss over her forehead. “What do you say, Storm? Should we make this real?”
His words were so soft she wondered if she’d heard right, but he’d spoken them with enough conviction her knees went weak. Real? What did he mean, real?
“All right, let’s get started,” the judge said.
Zane could feel Storm trembling and he squeezed her hand, willing her courage as the judge took his place in front of them. He instinctively knew that if Storm quailed now, he’d lose her for good, and he didn’t want to lose her. He’d never felt such a visceral reaction to a woman—never wanted anyone half so much. He couldn’t let her back out now. Wouldn’t let her back out ever. Storm was the one for him. He didn’t know how, didn’t know why, didn’t even know how he could know such a thing, but he did. Storm would be his and he’d never let her go again. She stared back at him, lips parted, eyes wide, and he knew his last words had shocked her. He didn’t care. He wasn’t going to back down no matter how shocked she was.
“I’m Greg Masters, Justice of the Peace,” the man in front of them said. “This is Susan Wright. She’ll act as witness.” The judge gestured to the middle-aged woman who stood beside him. He looked them over, satisfied himself that they were paying attention and shuffled the papers on the lectern in front of him. “Did you bring your own vows or do you want the standard ones?”
“Standard ones,” Zane said curtly, wanting the man to get on with it before Storm balked and ran. He knew he was pressing his luck, but what Gunnery Sergeant Zane Hall wants, Gunnery Sergeant Zane Hall gets. Right?
He sure as hell hoped so.
“Very well. Welcome, Zane Hall. Welcome, Kenna North. Please join hands.”
Zane lifted the hand he was already holding, conscious that his palm was sweaty. But so was Storm’s.
She hadn’t pulled away, though. A smile quirked his lips as a vision from the previous afternoon flashed through his mind. Storm on the motel room bed, her hair streaming over the coverlet, her skin flushed with desire—
What Gunnery Sergeant Zane Hall wants, Gunnery Sergeant Zane Hall gets indeed. He squeezed Storm’s hand again, making a silent pledge right then and there. He would do anything—anything—to make this woman happy. He’d give his all to make their life together as successful as his parent’s marriage had been. He’d work from before dawn to after dusk to provide for her and any children they might have. He’d keep her safe. He’d make her the center of his world.
Please, he prayed silently, as doubts pierced his bravado. Please let her go through with the ceremony.
He didn’t think he could stand it if Storm ran out on him now.
What did Zane mean, Should we make this real? Did he feel the same way she did? Was he drunk on a cocktail of giddiness and hope? Or did he mean he wanted her to act the part well so that they’d fool the judge and his witness? Storm couldn’t tell.
Zane’s grip on her fingers was nearly crushing them. One thing was clear; he wouldn’t let her run now. She didn’t want to run, anyway. She wanted to marry Zane.
“Zane Hall, do you take Kenna North to be your wife?” the judge said, making her suck in a sharp breath. She hadn’t realized they’d plunge straight into the vows like this. Wasn’t there some kind of preamble? Apparently not. As she scrambled to catch up, her heart pounding in her chest, the man went on. “Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her?”
Zane turned to face her and took her other hand, as well. “I do,” he said and his touch sent a shock-wave through her veins. If he was acting, he was a master at it. She couldn’t turn away from the raw want visible on his face.
“Kenna North, do you take Zane Hall to be your husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect him, forsaking all others, and holding only unto him?”
Zane squeezed her hands, sending a pulse of desire rippling through her and she gave up any pretense that she didn’t want this with all her heart. Gazing back at him, struggling to form the words, she hesitated only at the name in which she had to make this vow. She didn’t want to pledge her future in Kenna’s name. She wanted to do it in her own.
She couldn’t, though. She couldn’t keep the judge and Zane waiting any longer, either. Zane held her gaze, as if willing her to speak the answer he wanted to hear.
“I do,” she said breathlessly, realizing Zane’s hands were trembling as much as hers were. She blinked as a sudden emotion brought wetness to her eyes. This man—this Marine—wanted to marry her as much as she wanted him.
“Do you have your rings?” Greg Masters said.
Zane fumbled in his pocket and took out a pair of plain bands, never taking his eyes off of her.
Masters spoke again. “Zane Hall, please repeat after me.”
“I, Zane Hall, take thee, Kenna North, to be my wife,” Zane repeated, his voice low but strong, his intent clear in his eyes, “to have and to hold, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, and I promise my love to you. With this ring, I thee wed.”
Zane slid the thin band on Storm’s finger and she sucked in an unsteady breath.
“Kenna North, repeat after me.”
Storm winced again at Kenna’s name, but her voice was as clear as Zane’s as she repeated her vows. “I, Kenna North, take thee, Zane Hall, to be my husband—to have and to hold, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, and I promise my love to you. With this ring, I thee wed.” As she slid the ring on his fingers, she wondered what her own gaze revealed to him. Anxiety? Uncertainty?
Hope?
Masters faced them. “Zane Hall and Kenna North, in so much as the two of you have agreed to live together in matrimony, and have promised your love for each other by these vows and the exchange of your wedding rings, and by the authority vested in me by the State of Montana, I now declare you to be husband and wife.” He beamed at them. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Still reeling from what he’d thought he’d seen in Storm’s eyes, Zane pulled her roughly into a tight embrace, needing her to know that he had hope, too. He kissed her passionately, pouring his emotions into that connection. She had to understand how he felt. She had to know he’d meant every word he’d said. “It will be okay,” he whispered fiercely into her ear and kissed her again. “I promise.”
When he brushed her cheeks with his lips he found them wet with tears. He didn’t know what that meant. All he did know was that he wanted to protect Storm from sadness. He wanted to protect her from everything.
He wanted a shot at forever with her.
Storm wiped her face with the back of her hand and signed on the line where the Judge pointed. A few minutes later she was back in Zane’s truck headed out of town on a road that wound south. She hadn’t expected to cry at the ceremony.
“You oka
y?” Zane asked after several minutes.
She nodded, but the truth was she didn’t know if she was. Emotions assailed her that she seemed to have no control over. When Zane kissed her, she’d expected to feel happiness, or at least relief that they’d made it through the ceremony. Instead, her heart had throbbed with a bittersweet pain that pierced her to the quick.
In one quick flash she’d realized all she’d given up in her eight-year-long rush to help Cheyenne pay the bills and raise her sisters. It became all too clear what an anchor her responsibilities would be for years to come. She wanted this so badly—she wanted Zane so badly—but she couldn’t have him or the life he represented. She was stuck with her family on a sinking ship with no way to ever reach land.
She’d been fooling herself if she thought this break from her family would help her see her way clearly to a solution. She’d found clarity, but of an all too different type.
She was doomed to a lifetime of servitude if she kept on her present course. How could she break free without hurting her mother and sisters, though? It had been bad enough before she met Zane, but now she understood exactly what she’d be missing during her life unless she left them. She’d never have a partner like Zane. She’d never have time for one, and even if she did, she couldn’t ask any man to shackle himself to the mortgage on Cheyenne’s house.
Her marriage to Zane represented everything she’d ever hoped for—except it was all fake. How cruel it was to be forced to play a role in the very life she’d always wanted. On top of that she had to masquerade as Kenna. Could thirty grand possibly be enough compensation for this nightmare? She glanced at Zane again. Yes. Anything was worth the chance to spend even six weeks with the Marine.
“Remember, as far as my brothers and their wives know, we’re just engaged. In fact…” He slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road. “We’d better get these rings off before I forget.” He tugged his off and held out a hand. Storm bent to pull hers off as well, distressed to have to part with it. Even if the ring didn’t symbolize a real marriage, it meant so much to be even temporarily joined with Zane. She hated to give it up.
