by Seton, Cora
What about sex?
Yeah, Austin, what about it? When he’d written the ad he’d figured he’d made it clear that sex was out of the question. Roommates didn’t have sex, or at least they weren’t supposed to.
But this was the real world and Ella was a beautiful woman. She had every right to ask. He didn’t want entanglements, which is why he’d set up this kind of a marriage. He didn’t want love. Didn’t want the house, picket fence and two-point-five kids.
But what about sex?
Hi groin tightened in an immediate response. Sex sounded just fine, thank you very much—as often as possible, if her photo was any indication of the real woman. But Austin pushed those feelings aside. Sexual relations with his fake wife weren’t part of the plan. This was business, not pleasure.
Why not combine them?
He heard the words in Donovan’s voice and answered his friend sternly. Because that’s not a good idea. Still, he couldn’t help considering the matter.
Would he honestly require himself—and Ella—to be celibate for an entire year?
Could he ask that of her?
Hell, could he ask that of himself, faced with such a tempting partner, day after day?
Maybe not. He was a realist. He had to be, in his line of work. Living with a pretty woman all that time, he’d have a weak moment. Or she would.
So what did they do about it? Prepare for it? Schedule it in?
His body gave another internal lurch, like a rusted-out motor coughing to life. Scheduling it in might be nice.
Austin rested his elbows on the table and stared at the computer. Brought up Ella’s photo again. What would she be like in bed? Tender? Wild?
That wasn’t for him to speculate on. Uncomfortably aware that he was half-hard and this was a public area, Austin concentrated on her text. He was acting like some out-of-control teenager and that wasn’t like him at all. He didn’t need this kind of drama right now.
He began to type again.
Sorry, sex is off the table.
He swallowed hard and kept going.
I’ll expect you to rise before dawn with me and do the work that needs to be done. Ranch life means hard work and plenty of it, but you’ll have time for your own pursuits—and the freedom and privacy to pursue them.
Any more questions?
* * *
Ella read Austin’s reply and sat back. Sex was off the table, was it? She wasn’t sure why a frisson of disappointment slid through her at this news. Exhaustion, most likely. Austin’s answer was actually a relief—the last thing she wanted was a new relationship, especially with a man she didn’t know. This marriage was supposed to be an escape plan—not a raunchy fling with a hot cowboy. She hoped Austin was clear about that.
She was glad sex was off-limits. Ecstatic, even. But she navigated back to Austin’s photo and tapped her finger against her phone. What kind of lover would Austin be? Thorough? Aggressive?
She rolled her eyes and called up his latest message.
Questions?
She didn’t have any more questions, except for one.
Was she really going to marry this stranger?
Yes.
The answer came strong and unswerving, surprising her with its vehemence. She wanted out. She wanted to escape from Hollywood. She wanted to hide from the columnists and bloggers who were ready to tear her apart. Her phone kept pinging with an unending landslide of messages. Everyone wanted to know where she was, how she felt, what she thought of Anthony and Kaylee—not because they cared about her, but because they wanted to exploit the information for their own gain.
Marianne’s latest messages were the same as all the others. Where was she? Why had she run away? When would she come back and repair her reputation?
Ella didn’t answer any of them. She didn’t need to. Now she had a plan.
No more questions. I’m in if you are.
She pushed send and held her breath. If Austin knew anything about Hollywood, he could take her texts and photo and sell them to the highest bidder among the various tabloids. It would serve her right for taking such a chance.
But he’d given no sign that he recognized her. She prayed that he wouldn’t—not until she’d married him, anyway.
And then what?
Then she’d use the next twelve months to create a real life for herself—without Anthony or Marianne or Hollywood. She had her savings. She had nowhere else to be.
Time to start over.
* * *
I’m in if you are.
Austin’s body surged again, a mixture of adrenaline and testosterone he hadn’t felt in far too long.
Damn, he’d found a wife. He was getting married in a week.
And he’d just declared sex off limits.
He struggled against the unfamiliar feelings that popped and fizzled under his skin. He’d been right to lay down that law, hadn’t he?
Yes, he had. He was done with all that. Didn’t deserve it, anyway.
Text me your arrival time in Chance Creek, Montana. I’ll come get you.
Ella answered quickly.
Will do. I’ll be the one in the wedding dress.
Chapter 4
‡
A week later, Ella smoothed a tendril of hair back from her face and regarded her reflection in the ladies’ room mirror. The Chance Creek Regional Airport was small, but even here Homeland Security kept friends and relatives near the front of the airport to wait for arrivals. That gave her an opportunity to slip into the washroom and change before she met her husband-to-be.
Her husband-to-be.
Now that the moment had come, she was more nervous than she’d ever been in front of a camera. She was marrying a man she didn’t know. A man so hot, he made her—
Nope. She wasn’t going there. Even if the cowboy had slipped into her daydreams a dozen times or more during the past week.
Now Austin Hall, whoever he was, waited out there for her, ready to gather her up and take her home. It was already ten o’clock in the morning, so if he wanted to squeeze in a wedding before lunch, she’d be married within the next two hours.
On impulse she dialed Hank’s number. He picked it up almost instantly.
“I said call when you get somewhere!”
She laughed at his angry growl. “I just got somewhere. I’ve been on the lam all week. I haven’t even called my parents.”
“Where did you get? Is it safe?”
Ella’s heart throbbed painfully. Hank truly cared about her. At any time in the last three months he could have spilled his guts to a tabloid and made money off of her story, but he hadn’t and she was sure he never would. “I think so. I’m in Montana. I’m going to live on a ranch for the next year.”
“A ranch, eh? Going to be a cowgirl?”
“Something like that. What do you think? Did I do good?”
“As long as you aren’t shacking up with an Anthony clone. Not a lot of actors in Montana, are there?”
“I don’t think so.” But Hank’s words had hit close to home. “I’ve got to go. I’m getting picked up right now.”
“Be safe, chickadee. Keep in touch.” He hesitated. “I miss you. It ain’t the same out here without you.”
“I’m so sorry I keep screwing up—” She still felt bad that when she’d lost her career, Hank had lost his job, too.
“I’ve already got plenty of clients lined up to keep me busy when I’m back from my vacation.” He overrode her words. “Me and Annie are just fine. We’re heading to Hawaii next week—you don’t worry about us.”
“What’ll I do without you, though?” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
“I’m here anytime you need me.”
“Thank you, Hank. You’re the best. Say hello to Annie.”
“Get out there and knock ’em dead. Whatever you do, you’ll be a star.”
Some star, Ella thought as she stowed her phone away. She’d spent the last week driving from place to place in rental cars,
trying to keep one step ahead of the press. She’d had two close calls—one in Provo, Utah, when a maid in a hotel had posted Ella’s location on Facebook and a local blogger ambushed her in an elevator. Ella had managed to keep her hand over the camera lens on the blogger’s phone until the elevator stopped. Then she tripped him on the way out, kicked his phone across the lobby and escaped to her rental car before he caught up again.
The second time happened at a campground in Wyoming where she’d resorted to hiding after purchasing a pup tent and a sleeping bag. For the first two nights the campsites around her had been deserted, but on the last night of her stay a couple had set up camp next to her. Ella had done her best to keep out of sight, but when she came face to face with the woman at the ladies’ restroom the following morning, she saw the glimmer of recognition in the woman’s eyes and knew her time was up.
She’d finally dropped the rental car off in Cheyenne this morning and hopped a flight to Chance Creek. Now she was exhausted and jittery from her week on the run and her upcoming meeting with Austin Hall.
Her fiancé.
Nerves twisted her stomach into knots and her heart raced under her ribcage. She’d traveled in jeans and a T-shirt she picked up at a store along the way, but now she would change into an elegant light blue sheath dress paired with classic high heeled pumps she’d purchased in Cheyenne. She’d left her real wedding dress back in California months ago, of course. She didn’t miss Anthony or Hollywood at all. The dress, however—she would have been very happy to get the chance to wear it.
Still, even if it had been appropriate for Chance Creek, Montana, it was tainted by association with Anthony. She wanted a fresh start, which meant a new dress. This one was a little worse for wear after twenty-four hours in a small carry-on bag, but it would have to do. At least it flattered her. Her husband should be pleased.
She struggled quickly into the elegant sheath and pumps, and patted her hair back into its updo that showed off her regal neck and shoulders. Not as good as a professional could have made it, but good enough for Chance Creek. She slid an unassuming pair of sunglasses on, hoping that no one would spot her.
Time to find Austin Hall.
She wasn’t sure why her appearance mattered so much to her at this moment—she wasn’t seducing the man after all, fantasies or no fantasies—but the thought of a husband, fake or not, who didn’t like her looks was simply too depressing. It was bad enough not a single family member or friend even knew about the wedding, let alone would attend it.
Back out in the main corridor, Ella squared her shoulders and paced down the hall, following the rest of the passengers. Austin had texted that he’d wait for her near the baggage carousel.
The single baggage carousel.
She wasn’t sure she’d ever been in such a small airport. There was the carousel, a crowd of people surrounding the gleaming structure with its moving conveyor belt.
And there was Austin Hall. Ella nearly stumbled. He was even more handsome than he’d been in his photograph, his bearing giving away his military background even if he wasn’t in uniform the way she’d pictured him. She was tall, but he was taller, and his broad shoulders and confident stance made her feel delicate in comparison, a sensation that surprised her, because it was so rare. He wore jeans that showed his muscular thighs to perfection, a cotton shirt that stretched over well-defined pecs. He held a tan cowboy hat in hand.
He was hot as hell. A little too casually dressed for her liking, but hot as hell nonetheless. For one instant she forgot about losing the Oscar, forgot about Anthony cheating on her with Kaylee, forgot about the debacle on the Morning with Myra show. Her whole attention narrowed down to a single point as she focused on the cowboy to whom she’d soon be wed. Why had she agreed sex was off-limits? Why would she not throw herself into this ex-soldier’s arms and let him screw Anthony right out of her memory?
Ella swallowed in a suddenly dry throat. Because he was a complete stranger and this was a business deal, not a hot fling. She was determined not to let her nerves—or her runaway libido—show. Walking straight up to him, she said, “Austin Hall?”
He shook the hand she offered. “Yes. Ella?”
He gave no indication that he knew who she was and betrayed none of his thoughts as he scanned her. She kept her sunglasses on, fighting back a nervous smile. At least something was going right. Sooner or later, someone would recognize her, but so far everyone was too busy with their own reunions to pay any attention to her. “Yes.” She looked past him and spotted her bag tumbling down the ramp and onto the carousel. “That’s my suitcase.”
She lunged for it, but Austin beat her, picking up the small piece of luggage like it weighed nothing.
“Any others?”
“No.” She hoped they would leave quickly, before anyone noticed her. Before she made a fool out of herself staring at Austin. She clasped her hands together, thoroughly at a loss for what to say or do next.
“Let’s go.”
He was a man of few words, she mused as she followed him to the exit. A true cowboy, then. Outside, warm June air swept over her and she breathed deeply, enjoying the sweet scent of burgeoning nature. This was what she’d craved all those years she’d spent in Los Angeles. Austin pressed his hat onto his head and turned to her.
“Reverend Halpern’s waiting for us at the church where we’re due in about thirty minutes. I won’t have time to take you home first. Hope that’s not a problem.” His tone was almost gruff, as if her arrival had put him out. She wondered what he had better to do.
Probably lots of things.
He stopped by a battered red Chevy truck and heaved her luggage into the bed. Ella winced. Oh well. The overnight bag would survive. When Austin opened the passenger door for her, she approached, but hesitated before she climbed in. “We’ll be married at a church?” She’d expected a Justice of the Peace affair.
“At a church,” he affirmed in a voice that told her this was not negotiable. “Is that a problem?”
This was the closest they’d come to each other—too close. Suddenly her senses came alert. Austin smelled like soap, sweat and something outdoorsy. In other words, delicious. His jaw was hard, his eyes sharp as they returned her gaze. Ella hadn’t been so aware of a man in a long time.
“No. That isn’t a problem.”
“Here’s the paperwork to look over. We’ll stop first at the Notary Public to witness it. Then head to the church.”
* * *
Ella was gorgeous. Not just pretty. Gorgeous. She wore clothes that didn’t come from any Montana shop and shoes that made him think of classic nineteen-forties movies. She was tall, with icy blonde hair and a face that would stop traffic. She’d kept her sunglasses on until they reached the truck, but now she tugged them off and he got a glimpse of wide blue eyes.
She took his breath away. He’d heard that expression all his life, but he’d never known what it meant. Not in any visceral sense.
He did now.
Ella was the most stunning woman he’d ever met and he would be married to her in—he glanced at his watch—a little under half an hour.
But why was this poised, classically beautiful woman marrying him?
She sat with her back ramrod straight during the ten-minute drive into Chance Creek, asking a question or two, but saying little else. The stop at the notary’s office was short and uneventful. He’d made sure to pick one whose name he didn’t recognize from his childhood in town and who evidently didn’t recognize him, either. The middle-aged man barely looked at Ella, which showed just how lost in his own thoughts he was. He examined their IDs and witnessed their signatures on the pre-nup, and then they were on their way.
He thought maybe Ella would object once she saw the straight-forward language that stated that in the event of the dissolution of their marriage—something he counted on to happen in early April—that she was entitled to none of his wealth or holdings. Such as they were.
Ella hadn’t batted an eye. He
guessed what she’d told him was true—she didn’t need his money. Somehow that was disappointing.
The ride to the Reformed Church took barely five minutes. Ella allowed him to open the door for her when they arrived. Nothing about her bearing so far gave him a clue to what was going on in her head. She was a mystery from top to toe.
A luscious mystery. Give him an hour in bed with her and he’d—
Strike that thought from your mind, soldier. Ella was off limits in every sense.
And he was the fool who’d put her there. Sex is off the table. He could picture Donovan’s reaction to this situation. He’d be laughing his ass off.
“Do you need anything from your bag?” Austin asked in an effort to get his thoughts back on the straight and narrow, suddenly aware that he’d presumed a lot when he’d decided they would marry right after her arrival in town. Most women would have wanted time to primp and preen. They would have demanded to be taken home first to rest and change. They would have wanted to be surrounded by friends and family, the entire ceremony recorded in photographs and video.
Not Ella.
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
Upon entering the church, she hesitated only for a moment behind the rows of pews to lift her hand to smooth her hair into place. Then she turned to him and raised an eyebrow. How could she be so calm and collected when his palms were sweaty and he had the distinct feeling he wouldn’t be able to repeat his vows?
But wait. His gaze honed in on her lips as she wet them with her tongue.
She was nervous, too.
Chapter 5
‡
The Reverend Joe Halpern, who according to Austin was an old family friend, bustled out of the vestry and strode up the center aisle of the modest white-walled church to meet them. Ella, who had been fighting to maintain a veneer of calm and poise during her arrival at the airport and the trip to the notary, now felt her heart kick up another notch. She wanted the ceremony over and done with before anyone recognized her. She wanted to be safe on Austin’s ranch before anyone pointed out to him that she was supposed to have wed Anthony at four o’clock Saturday afternoon. Before anyone realized she and Austin couldn’t possibly have a relationship and put a stop to the marriage. If she could just get through this next hour, she should be scot free.
