Have Gown, Will Wed

by Killian McRae

  “Do you get nervous when you fly?” Kane asked.

  “No, not at all.”

  “Worried about the wedding, then?”

  A squirm in her stomach turned her thoughts to her bags in the trunk. Had she remembered to pack the ring? Had he found out about her plans somehow? Should she be honest and give it away right here and now, or bluff?

  Bluff, definitely bluff. “We’re only dating.”

  His laugh cracked across his features, revealing the whiteness of his teeth. “I meant your friends’.”

  “Oh, no, I just—”

  His kiss kept the words at bay. As his mouth pressed to hers, filling her senses with the taste of his lips, his Armani Code cologne, the scratch of his stubble on her chin, all worry over the rusty art of passion fled her. As the cliché went, it was like riding a bike. And, oh, what a pretty bike Kane would be.

  His licentious labors didn’t cease as the limo changed lanes, speeding her breathing and slowing her thoughts. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that they had left the highway and were entering the airport complex.

  “Why do you value your time so much, Rose, and not yourself?” he asked between tasting her lips.

  “Hey, I booked us first class, I’ll have you know.” She grinned as she pulled against the restraints of her seatbelt, her body longing to get closer to his.

  The chuckle he let out surprised her. “That just proves my point.”

  Rosalind pulled away and followed his gaze to the window behind her. Outside the view was both familiar and foreign. On the left, blue-gray water flowed over itself in a series of tribute waves. A row boat with a single occupant sat in the distance; a fisherman up before the crack of dawn. On the right, a white building that looked more like a car dealership than the five-story terminal buildings she was accustomed to.

  “Where are we?”

  Kane opened the door on his side. “SFO, of course,” he answered without qualification.

  Her hands racing down to undo her belt, Rosalind opened her door and joined him outside. Signage revealed the business before them as Signature Services.

  “Kane, I don’t know why we’re here, but we really have to go. We’re supposed to be at our gate for boarding in less than an hour and we still have to go through security, in the international terminal no less. We’re going to miss our flight.”

  “Will there be anything else, sir?” Sven deposited Rosalind’s bags with Kane’s on a trolley he’d obtained from who-knew-where. It was only then that Rosalind noticed the man’s reticence to look in her direction, and then remembered with embarrassment how she’d spent the last fifteen minutes in a heated, oral exchange in the backseat.

  “No, thank you.” No awkwardness in his demeanor, she noticed. Kane’s hands wrapped around the trolley and began pushing it toward the portico. “Don’t worry, Rosalind. When you’re the only passengers, the flight waits for you. Still, it would be respectful of us to keep on schedule for the crew’s sake.”

  It took precisely three kid punches in the shoulder for her to drag the details from him. Kane hated flying. Hated he was quick to reaffirm, not feared. He avoided it whenever possible, and whenever not possible, he took advantage of his company’s private jet if it was available.

  “But, Kane, a private jet to Mumbai? That must cost a small fortune!”

  His fingers raised to tilt her chin up. He ran the pad of his thumb over her still-swollen lips. “Luckily I have a few of those.”

  She knew he had money to spare, but that so wasn’t the point. “To waste it like this on a five-day trip to India just to attend a friend’s—not even your friend, but my friend’s—wedding … It just seems so … exuberant.”

  Both his hands took anchor on her cheeks as he locked their gazes. “Rosalind Betters, you should know that I intend to lavish you with every comfort and desire that money can provide. You’re my girl now, and I intend to make sure you reap the benefits of that very prestigious position. Besides, there are certain advantages to a private plane other than the ease of scheduling.”

  As his eyes chased down her profile, starting at her lips and settling on the top button of her blouse, she felt her knees threaten to go on strike. Rosalind’s breath hitched, something she couldn’t have done on cue if asked. As if sensing her loss of balance, Kane’s arms wrapped around her, holding her up.

  “My, my, did you just swoon? And I didn’t even have to remove any clothing.” His smug mug made more than clear he could see what effect he was having on her.

  Through a mouth suddenly as dry as a Mormon Tabernacle, she somehow managed to answer, “Maybe just a wee bit. Fine. I’ll be humble and let this go. I wish you would have told me though.”

  “And miss the way your cheeks flush when you get angry? Never. I knew this would piss you off as much as it would please you. As much as you’re testing me, I’m testing you. We should be frank about that.”

  Spiked with irrepressible insult, she bristled. “Keeping the truth from me was a test? That’s not frank, that’s deception.”

  “My apologies, but the point wasn’t to see how you’d react to lying, though in my defense, if anything, this is merely lying by omission. No, I wanted to be certain you’re willing to be pampered.”

  “And I passed?”

  Something feral flashed through Kane’s eyes. “Well, I have more pampering planned for your en route.”

  Oh, Lord and Taylor…

  “I tell you what.” Kane clapped his hands and rubbed one over the other. “To make up for the surprise, I’ll let you choose our wine when we’re served lunch. Mind you, the galley aboard has a limited selection, but it’s very refined. My tastes always are. After all, I picked you.”

  As they made their way up the stairs into the plane, Rosalind asked herself if she misremembered. As far as she could recollect, it had been the other way around.

  Lobbyist

  Xavier’s occupation required far reaching travels. From Bangkok to Brittany, he’d eaten at enough foreign tables, learned the small talk and currency of enough lands, and watched the sun crawl its way over enough horizons to fill a Frommer’s guide. Truth be told, however, the lobby of the Mumbai hotel impressed even his world-weary eyes. Persian rugs woven in earthen tones created a canvas on which furnishings befitting of royalty had been arranged in a stunning orientation between form and function. A double-edged thought flitted uncontrolled through his head; it would be a truly wonderful background to make an elaborate marriage proposal.

  Xavier led his neck through one more rotation, trying to stretch and strain out the kinks. Business class on long haul flights was a luxury to which he’d grown accustomed, but the last minute nature of his booking left few options. He’d ended up in the very last row of economy, in a seat stuck permanently upright and that forced him to endure watching an endless parade of people queuing for the bathroom. It also didn’t help that he’d barely gotten a wink of sleep before his 8 a.m. flight. His subconscious had decided to nag him in the wee hours about the dangers of crossing professional lines with personal ones, especially when those lines resulted in hastily-arranged international travel.

  “You were very lucky, sir.”

  The hotel clerk’s thickly accented English dragged Xavier from his inner machinations.

  The clerk accentuated each word with a swirl of his extended index finger. “The hotel is very, very full. Booked to capacity. You must have snagged a room by the grace of God.”

  Xavier shrugged off the suggestion. He refused to give in to the seductive thought that fate or some other higher power had had something to do with it. “Must have been a last minute cancellation, I guess. Do you have wireless here?”

  “Of course, sir. The information will be in your room, next to the telephone.”

  After a few more minutes of typing, the clerk printed up a folio and asked Xavier to sign where
necessary. Xavier took the small stack of papers, folded them, and stuck them in his jacket pocket, turning just in time to catch sight of Kane Kennedy approaching. The bastard’s smirk had just enough hint of suspicion to throw Xavier nearly off his groove.

  “I thought that was you, Mr. Holmes, but I couldn’t think why you would be here. Rose said nothing about you coming.”

  “Mr. Kennedy.” Xavier offered his hand. Keeping those professional lines in sight often provided a much needed lifeline in a moment of crisis. “I’m not certain Ms. Betters knew. I was invited by the bride just a few days ago. Kamakshi Pure has recently become a client of mine, a referral from Ms. Betters herself.”

  “Well, how hospitable of her to invite you.”

  Xavier moved quickly to dampen any indication buried in that statement. “Part of my compensation, actually. Access to the potential labor pool amongst her wedding guest.”

  “Sir?” The same clerk who had helped Xavier now looked to Kane with equal enthusiasm. “Checking in?”

  Kane gave a quick nod before placing his hand on Xavier’s shoulder, applying a pressure that served as well as if he decided to pee on the nearby potted palm as a warning. “Good to see you, Holmes. Maybe we’ll see you around, ey?”

  “Indeed.”

  Temptation pressed him to ask after Rosalind, about whether they were staying in the same room. Xavier’s teeth gnashed as he instead paced across the lobby and seated himself in one of the embroidered chairs. The implied conclusion of that thought made him simultaneously insanely jealous and ragingly self-critical. Why shouldn’t Kane and Rosalind share a bed? They were in a relationship, no matter how nascent, in an age where the physical aspect of romance didn’t require too much in the way of prologue. Moreover, it if was Rosalind’s intention to ask Kane to marry her in the next few days, then surely they had slept…

  “Xav?”

  Her voice revived him in a way almost holy. Xavier looked up from his clutched fist to see her brown eyes twinkling. Rosalind’s smile wiped away in a moment the weariness plaguing his body. Suddenly, Xavier felt like he could jump up and do laps around the vestibule.

  “Ms. Betters, how are you?” Keeping up the pretense of professionalism made a liar of his intentions. Still, here in a crowded lobby with Kane Kennedy nearby was no place for him to leap into action.

  She rolled her eyes as he stood. “It’s so good to see you, but what are you doing here?”

  He thought someone had suctioned out all the air from his lungs when Rosalind leaned in toward him. She was so natural to hold, he noted as he encircled her in his arms. As though they’d been a long lost set of matching statues, she fit perfectly against him. The scent of her perfume tickled his senses, and it was at that moment he first realized how much he’d missed her presence about him.

  She pulled back in a time that all but declared, I only see you as a friend. Xavier staved his desire to pull her back to him, keenly aware that Kane Kennedy had taken notice of their encounter. Already he appeared to be rushing the hotel clerk along.

  “Kamakshi invited me,” he informed her.

  “Now I’m jealous.” She wrapped a strand of hair around the tip of her finger. “How is it you’ve just met Kamakshi and you already feel comfortable enough to call her by her name, and somehow you’ve reverted back to calling me Ms. Betters?”

  “What can I say? Kamakshi just rolls off the tongue, while saying Rosalind is a chore.”

  “Just wait a few more days until her name is Kamakshi Radhakrishnan, then we’ll look at it again.”

  “Ah, yes, but then you’ll soon be Rosalind Kennedy, so that will turn the tides right back.” He cocked his head to the side. “Or will you make it nearly impossible for me to pronounce your name at all and do that hyphen thing? Hey, what’s wrong?”

  Rosalind looked as though she had caught a whiff of something foul. “Oh, my goodness, I hadn’t thought about that.”

  “I wouldn’t worry. I heard hyphens look very divisive, but I’m sure they’re not that terrible.”

  The corners of her mouth rose. “I meant of myself as Rosalind Kennedy. I mean, really, Rose Kennedy?”

  “I doubt anyone will make the connection.” Well, probably so, but still. “Tell me, have you thought about children’s names? What do you think of the name Jack?”

  “One of my favorites, actually.” Kane’s arm slithered around Rosalind, pulling her hard against her side. She almost fell, but he quickly diluted her confusion with a kiss that would make a hooker blush.

  “What was that for?” Rosalind struggled to catch her breath when Kane pulled away.

  “Just because I have the key to our room, and I thought you might like to go up.” He held the access card up and at angle that served as well as a middle finger as far as Xavier was concerned. “They gave us quite a suite.”

  Kane leaned back in to press Rosalind’s lips to his once more, but she pulled away. “What do you mean, ‘our room’?” Her teeth meshed her words in to a frightening buzz. “I thought I was clear on the plane about… that? I had a room already booked. Do I need to check in separately?”

  Xavier backed away just enough to appear as though he was respecting their space. Although he turned his back, he made certain to stay within earshot.

  “You did, darling. You still do. This is the key to your room. I only thought that... Well, I had wanted to make this a romantic weekend, so a few days ago I had my assistant call Carmen and ask her to add my name to your reservation. Then I cancelled my own room. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

  Xavier could practically picture her balled up fist squaring on her hips as she shot back. “Oh, it’s a surprise all right. Kane, I wish you had asked me about that. I… I really don’t feel comfortable…”

  Kane sounded like a wounded puppy. “Maybe I thought your feelings for me were the same as my feelings for you. Maybe I assumed too much. I thought we were…”

  Don’t say it. Xavier jogged his memory for any recollection of the long ago abandoned prayers from his youth.

  But Kane apparently didn’t respond to cancellation requests from the Almighty. “…falling in love,” he finally said.

  “Ohhhh, Kane.”

  Xavier turned just in time to see Rosalind rolling up on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to Mr. Wonderful. Kane kept his eyes open during their kiss, locking his mocking gaze on Xavier.

  “However, I can’t stay in the same room as you,” Rosalind insisted in a more agreeable tone as she lowered herself down. “Kamakshi’s coming tonight with some of her hometown friends. We’re going to have a combination henna party and sleep over. You can’t be there for that. They’re very conservative here.”

  Kane anchored his hands on Rosalind’s arms and squeezed. “You’re right, I should have asked. It’s no problem. I’ll get another room.”

  “There are no other rooms.” This time it was Xavier’s turn to grin in salacious glee at his rival. “Sold out.”

  “That’s just something hotels say to most people. There’s always a room available,” Kane sneered, “for those who can afford it.”

  He spun on heel and paraded back across the lobby to the clerk. It didn’t take but a moment for him to lean over the counter and say something to the man, whose head shook in a quick response.

  “It seems there are indeed no other rooms.” Xavier handed the key card to Rosalind. “Rose, perhaps I can come up with you and at least wash up and make a few calls around to find another hotel nearby.”

  Rosalind clapped her hands together. “Or maybe you can just stay with Xavier.”

  “What?”

  “What!”

  Both men gawked at the blonde in confusion.

  “We’re going to be busy for the next few days, so all you’d be doing is sleeping there. Under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t care, but Kamakshi’s family is very
conservative and if they found out Kane and I were sharing a room, it might reflect badly on her. Please, Xav? Will you do it, for me?”

  “It’s fine, yes!” Even he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth, but there they hung in vivid rainbow tones. Xavier sashayed around a clearly ticked off Kane on his way back to the counter. “I’ll just get another key then.”

  Strange Bedfellows

  “Imagine our luck that there’s no rollaway mattresses available.”

  Though he tried, Xavier in fact could not imagine what Kane so ruefully suggested. Fate was really going to make him prove his dedication to seeing out this errand, wasn’t she?

  The best he could hope to achieve in the face of the situation was nonchalance. Xavier sighed. “I think I should warn you, I’ve been told I snore.”

  To his surprise, Kane made the first salvo.

  “I know this is awkward for the both of us. We’re both adults and professionals. All we’re doing is sharing a mattress. Let’s just get some sleep.”

  As though the gods had heard this western rendition of humor and wanted to join the party, a drumbeat in a slow and steady rhythm emerged from the wall behind their headboard. The thud-thud-thud adagio cadence measured out their neighbors’ intimate interlude. Both Xavier and Kane turned to each other, looking just as off kilter and dumbfounded as the other.

  “Professionals,” Xavier agreed. “Which means we can choose to ignore that.”

  “Yes, we can.” Kane rolled on his side, pushing a handful of the comforter under him to help block the view of his naked chest. “You have someone, Holmes?”

  Xavier rolled up and matched Kane’s posture, causing a mirror image of poses across the king-sized bed. “I’ve told you over and over, the name is Hommes. Or just call me Xavier if that’s easier. And if what you mean is, do I have a woman in my life, the answer is no.”

  Kane’s eyes became a slit of suspicion. “A man?”