3, 2, 1...Married!

by Sharon Sala

  Taking a deep breath, he walked around the table and held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Holt—” The woman looked up at him and for a split second he thought he was seeing things. “Bennie?”

  He wasn’t seeing things. The woman sitting before him was Bennie all right. But not the Bennie he knew. This was some new version of his assistant. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Her black hair was piled atop her head, the little wire-frame glasses she usually wore were nowhere to be seen. A pair of really nice fake diamond hoops circled her earlobes. And a slinky red dress hugged every luscious inch of her body.

  Holt swallowed hard. “Bennie, that is you, isn’t it?”

  She offered him a fragile smile. “Yes, it’s me.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Having dinner with you.” A warm flush crept up her neck and highlighted her already pink cheeks.

  “What happened to my date—the woman who was so perfect for me? Did she call and cancel at the last minute?”

  “No, she—she didn’t cancel.”

  “I don’t understand. If she didn’t cancel, then where is she and what are you doing here?”

  “I’m your date, Holt.” Bennie squared her shoulders, tilted her chin and looked him square in the eye. “It was my ad in the personals section of the Herald Daily that you chose.”

  “Your ad?” Holt stared at her, an incredulous look on his face.

  “Yes. You see, I’m the woman who’s perfect for you.”

  Chapter 4

  Slumping down in the chair, Holt continued staring at Bennie. With his mouth slightly agape, he shook his head. “I don’t understand any of this. You’re—” he pointed his index finger at her “—my date? You’re the mystery lady?”

  Nodding, Bennie struggled to keep her weak smile in place. “Rene gave me a copy of Prominence Magazine that had an article called ‘Married by the Millennium’ and one of the suggestions was—”

  “I should have known Rene would be involved in this somehow!” Holt grappled with the knot in his tie until he loosened it. “What on earth would possess you to listen to Rene? She’s a great secretary, but she doesn’t know beans about how to get and keep a man. Her love life is usually a mess. You’re the one who’s always giving her advice that she won’t take. Why would you think she’s an expert on anything involving men?”

  “Rene didn’t give me the advice,” Bennie said. “The advice came from the magazine article.”

  “An article on how to get married? Are you saying you placed an ad in the personals section of the Herald Daily because you really are husband hunting?”

  “That’s right. I’ll be thirty my next birthday and I’m tired of waiting—” she had been about to say tired of waiting for you “—and I’m ready to get married and have children.”

  “What about your secret lover?” Holt asked. “Isn’t he the marrying kind?”

  “What secret lover?”

  “The one you told me about last night.”

  “I didn’t tell you that I had a…ah…I remember now.” Her tentative smile strengthened. “You just assumed I had a secret lover and I simply didn’t bother to correct you.”

  “Are you saying there’s no secret lover?” A sense of relief washed over Holt.

  “That’s right. I don’t have a secret lover. As a matter of fact, I don’t have a lover at all, secret or otherwise.”

  Holt pulled his tie through the knotted loop, then whipped it off and stuffed it into his pocket.

  The violinist stood several feet away, but his music was obviously directed at their table. The tune he played sounded like something from an old movie, Holt thought. One of those romantic chick flicks.

  “Did Rene request the violin music?” Holt nodded to the portly musician.

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm.”

  The waiter delivered champagne to the table. Holt eyed the label. He didn’t know a damn thing about vintages, but he’d bet his last dime that this was some of the expensive stuff.

  Lifting the crystal flute, Holt examined the champagne. “I suppose Rene ordered this, too.”

  “Yes.”

  Within minutes the waiter placed their salads before them, then scurried away. Holt noted that his was a house salad with French dressing. His favorite.

  “Tell me something. If your purpose in placing an ad was to find a husband, why set up this date with me? Why, when I showed you which ad I’d chosen, didn’t you just tell me that the woman was you? You could have saved us from wasting our time with each other.” Holt took a sip of the champagne, then set the flute on the table and picked up his salad fork.

  Good question, Bennie thought. Why indeed? Now give him a good answer. A logical, reasonable answer. “The whole thing was Rene’s idea.” That’s it, blame Rene. Well, she had to blame someone, didn’t she? She could hardly tell Holt that she’d been madly in love with him for years and dreamed of being his wife.

  “Why am I not surprised? What did she think—that you and I would be perfect for each other? How did she convince you to go along with such a harebrained idea?”

  “I don’t think it’s so harebrained!” Control yourself, Bennie. Don’t jump down the man’s throat. If you overreact, he’s bound to become suspicious. “Rene pointed out to me that since I’m looking for a husband and you’re looking for a wife, the logical thing to do was for the two of us to get together.”

  Holt undid the top button of his shirt. “How is our getting together logical? You’re not what I’m looking for in a wife and I don’t figure I’m your ideal man.”

  When Bennie didn’t respond, he speared a tomato in his salad and brought it to his mouth. Bennie sat there, staring at her Caesar salad.

  “Not hungry?” he asked.

  Instead of responding to his immediate question, she said, “I think our getting together is totally logical. We already know each other, like and respect each other and we work well together. In business, we’re the ideal couple. So, why not—”

  “Did you fill out the information for the personal ad or did Rene?”

  “What?”

  “I said, did you—”

  “Rene filled out the ad for me.”

  “So, what did she do—concoct the type of ad she knew would catch my eye? She invented a history for you that would match what I was looking for in a wife, didn’t she?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Bennie, I’m really flattered that you’d even consider marrying me.” Holt laid down his salad fork, then extended his hand across the table toward her. When he reached for her hand, she snatched it away. “Look, honey, if you really had the pedigree I was looking for, we might discuss terms. But we both know that what I need is a lady whose social position can help me out. An old redneck boy like me can go only so far in this business before he starts running into closed doors that only the right wife can open for him.”

  Bennie had to bite her tongue to keep from telling him the truth. She wanted to stand on the table and shout at the top of her lungs that she, Marianne Colburn Bennett, had blood so blue you could substitute it for ink. And a part of her longed to wipe that smug look off his face and tell him that she had already opened quite a few doors for him. Five years ago, she had used her trust fund as collateral for the bank loan that had gotten his business off the ground. Something she’d made sure he would never find out. And on several occasions, she had asked an uncle or a cousin to vouch for Holt, without his ever knowing about what she’d done.

  “Jackson Construction seems to be doing all right. You’re a very wealthy man and getting wealthier every day. So, you can’t convince me that a society wife is essential for your success.” Bennie stabbed a small chunk of lettuce, then stuffed it into her mouth.

  Holt downed the remainder of his champagne, then refilled his flute. “I’ve always been honest with you, Bennie, so I’m going to be totally honest now. You’re right about Jackson Construction. And maybe, if I hadn’t been raised so damn poor, hadn�
��t had my teeth kicked in so many times by guys like Bo Reynolds, hadn’t watched my mama work herself to death cleaning rich people’s houses, then marrying above me wouldn’t matter so much.

  “But why should I settle for less? Why can’t I have it all? By marrying class, it’ll help my business and it’ll assure my kids won’t ever have to go through what I did. Nobody’s going to look down their nose at my son or daughter!”

  Tears lodged in Bennie’s throat and gathered in the corners of her eyes. Poor Holt. She’d known, of course, how very poor he’d been and how wretchedly he’d been treated by the people his mother worked for. And she understood his need to shove his success down those very same people’s throats. If only she had listened to her head instead of her heart, she wouldn’t be sitting here right now, feeling like a total fool.

  “Love doesn’t enter into it at all, does it?” Bennie swallowed the emotions that threatened to choke her.

  “See, that’s another reason, we aren’t suited for each other. You expect love and romance and I don’t.”

  “I’m really sorry, Holt. About tonight.” She reached out and grasped his hand. “I want you to be happy. And I suppose I thought that I was the woman who could make you happy.”

  “Bennie—”

  She squeezed his hand. “No, it’s all right. Honestly. It’s just that we’re such good partners at work that I thought we might make good life partners, too.”

  She released his hand, scooted back her chair, dropped her napkin on the table and then stood. Instinctively, he got up out of the chair, dropping his napkin on the floor in the process. Bennie picked up the golden box of chocolates and her small evening bag from where she’d placed them on the table.

  Garnering all her strength, she glided languidly over to Holt, who stood stiffly by the table, and kissed him on the lips. A quick, closemouth kiss that nevertheless sent shock waves through her body. Even though she had dreamed for years of kissing Holt, this was the first time.

  “I’ll see you at work, Monday.” Bennie turned and walked away.

  “Don’t go!” The minute Bennie stopped and glanced over her shoulder at him, he ran toward her.

  She turned and waited for him. Holt halted abruptly, then grabbed her by the shoulders. “There’s no reason for you to leave. We’ve both weathered a storm to get here tonight and everything’s all set up, thanks to Rene. So, why don’t you stay? We can eat and talk and maybe even dance.” He nodded to the empty dance floor and the pianist seated by the big bay window.

  “Holt, are you sure about this? After all—”

  He slid his arm around her waist and led her back to the table. “I’m sure. There’s no reason why two good friends can’t have a romantic dinner together.”

  His wicked smile curled her toes. Why, of all men on earth, had she fallen in love with this big lug?

  “Okay, I’ll stay, if you promise me something.” She allowed him to seat her.

  Holt sat back down across from her. “Ask away. You know I can’t refuse you anything.”

  You’ve refused me what I want most, she thought. “We’ll pretend, only for tonight, that this is a real date. Just a man and a woman enjoying each other’s company. No past. No future.”

  “Sure. Why not?” His gut instincts warned him that this was a mistake, that having a “date” with Bennie was asking for trouble. Agreeing to spend the evening with her, just man to woman and not friend to friend, was enough to send his libido into overdrive. For years he had deliberately avoided putting himself in a romantic situation with her for this very reason.

  He was only human. And the sight of Bennie in the sexy red dress had him fighting the urge to drag her upstairs to the nearest bed. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been aware that she had a luscious body, but the dress’s low cleavage revealed the round, firm swell of her breasts, and the snug fit clasped her small waist and hugged her hips and fanny. His hands itched to caress her, to pull her close and press her against his arousal.

  The waiter removed their salads, then returned with their entrées—medium-rare T-bone steak and loaded potato for Holt and a filet mignon and steamed veggies for Bennie.

  Okay, so the ploy to capture Holt had failed, Bennie admitted to herself. But she didn’t accept defeat. The night was still young, they were on a real date and Holt was looking at her as if he found her more delectable than his meal. Anything could happen. She smiled as she sliced into her filet.

  Two and a half hours later, the restaurant was lit only with candlelight. The storm had progressively worsened and become so severe that the inn had lost electrical power. But the couples who occupied the six tables didn’t seem to notice. Holt and Bennie were no exception.

  Holt led Bennie out onto the dance floor for their fourth dance of the evening. Giddy with the pleasure of his company and the feel of his arm wrapped around her waist, she followed where he led. The pianist, who had been playing mood music for the past couple of hours, performed a duet with the violinist. A moody, almost bluesy rendition of “Summertime.” Odd how every time she and Holt danced, the musicians played the same song.

  Rene really had thought of everything. White roses. A violinist. The finest chocolate candy. The best champagne. Holt’s favorite meal. And one of Bennie’s favorite songs. She couldn’t help but wonder what other surprises Rene had in store for them?

  Holt brought her into his arms, but maintained a discreet three inches between their bodies, as he had done each time they’d danced. She longed to wrap her arms around him and lay her head on his chest. And from the look in his eyes, he wanted the same thing. But she wasn’t going to make the first move! If Holt wanted her any closer, he’d have to take the initiative.

  All evening they had talked and laughed, their comradery vanquishing any former uncertainty and hesitation. Although she and Holt had spent many evenings together in the past, none had ever been like this one. They both knew this was more than two buddies hanging out together. This was real and romantic and seductive.

  “I don’t think I told you how pretty you look tonight,” Holt said.

  “Thank you.” Bennie’s heart fluttered wildly. “You look pretty good yourself.” Holt always looked good, even when he needed a haircut and a shave. Even when he came straight from a construction site, all hot and sweaty.

  “I’ve never seen you wear your hair like that.”

  He studied the purposefully disarrayed arrangement, loose tendrils curling around her face and trailing down her back. It was all he could do not to reach up, remove the pins from her hair and watch it fall into his hands. Bennie had the most gorgeous hair!

  “I had planned on a French twist, but with this horrid humidity, my hair wouldn’t cooperate, so Rene just piled it all on top of my head.”

  “Makes you look as if you just crawled out of bed.” Out of some man’s bed, Holt thought. After a night of passionate lovemaking.

  Bennie stroked the back of her head. “Does it look that bad? I promise you that it has been brushed.”

  “I like it.” He ran his gaze over her shoulders, across her breasts and then back up to her face. “I like your dress, too. You look good in red.”

  “Guess I’ll save this dress for when I have dates with the other men who answered my ad.”

  “Other men replied to your ad?” It had never occurred to him that other men might actually want the same thing in a woman that he did and that they might have contacted Bennie.

  “Five other men, to be exact.” She strongly emphasized the word five.

  Unaware of what he was doing, Holt drew Bennie closer, his big hand pressing her possessively against his body.

  “Have you told them that the DAR membership and the prestigious lineage parts of the ad weren’t true?”

  “I was completely honest with every one of them and all five want to set up dates. So you see, I’ve got a good chance of landing myself a husband before the end of the year.”

  Holt rubbed his cheek against hers as they swayed with t
he seductive music. “Maybe you’d better let me check these guys out to make sure they’re on the up-and-up. I can’t have some guy taking advantage of my best friend.”

  “You act as if I’m a sixteen-year-old virgin and you’re my big brother. Believe me, Holt, I’m perfectly capable of choosing the right man. And I think I have enough sense to be able to separate the wheat from the chaff.”

  Anger rose inside Holt, like molten lava building inside a volcano. He wasn’t sure exactly what had produced that anger, but he knew it had something to do with the thought of Bennie being involved with another man. Maybe with five other men!

  He knew she had dated various men over the years, knew she had an ex-fiancé somewhere, but he’d just never pictured Bennie—his Bennie—getting seriously involved with someone. And the thought of her actually having sex with some guy just didn’t sit right with Holt. Maybe he did think of her as a sweet, vulnerable kid sister, someone he had to protect.

  Yeah, sure, Jackson. Tell that to someone who’d believe it. You know damn well that the thought of Bennie with some other guy makes you jealous. You can’t stand the idea of some other man making love to the woman you’d like to have all for yourself.

  The music stopped unexpectedly. The three couples on the dance floor slowed their movements, but remained in one another’s arms as they turned their attention to the hostess who stood by the patio.

  “Ladies and gentleman, I have an announcement,” she said. “I’m afraid the Butler Bridge across the Noxubee River is closed. The heavy rainfall has submerged the bridge and made travel across it impossible.”

  A low rumble of disbelief and concern rose from the customers.

  The hostess cleared her throat and continued. “We will do our best to accommodate those of you who don’t already have reservations for the night. If you’ll speak to Mr. Perkins, the inn’s manager, he can explain the situation further.”