Angelique Rising (10 page)

             
"And you'll be the acting bartender? What's it gonna be? A lot of slushy, fruity, sweet, oh so pretty drinkie poo's? With cutesy paper umbrellas?"

             
"Fuzzy navel slush, strawberry frozen daiquiri, cosmopolitan slushy, kiwi colada, fizzling peach splash, whatever it turns out she likes, I'm fully stocked."

             
"You realize this is nuts, Wyatt. Eventually she's going to sober up."

             
"I'll deal with it."

             
"Well, bro, I'm gonna go take a shower. And if I should happen to run into the bride-to-be on my way out--"

             
"You say anything, I'll shut down your whole IT department."

             
"
Oooo...
" George laughed clutching his heart dramatically as he picked up his satchel and headed for one of the smaller bedrooms.

             
"George," Wyatt called after him offhandedly. "Thanks."

             
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, bro. Wish I'd brought a suit. And that I get to be there when you tell Maureen but I'm in another
state
when you tell Mom and Dad."

             
I've never seen him like this
George beamed as he entered the bedroom.
Christ he's happy. He wouldn't marry some goldigger, he's not stupid. He got roped into Maureen, but this one... And she'd say no? To Wyatt? What woman in her right mind would say no to a marriage proposal from Wyatt Cochran? And with no prenup? Holy Toledo this is nuts.

             
George wondered how long he could stall, hang around, for the chance to meet her, sorry he'd only gotten a look at her bare back. Fabulous hair though, even all sex-tousled.

             
On this, her wedding day.

             
Life, he chuckled, is pretty weird. But pretty damn interesting.
Angelique Reising, soon to be Cochran, that is if she changes her name. Maureen sure did, lickity split, and kept it.

             
George wondered how blotto a woman would have to be to say yes to an uninvited marriage proposal and still be able to stand up during the ceremony. He smiled. If anyone could pull it off, it would be Wyatt. Damn, he smirked, he had the coolest brother in the flippin'
world.

*****

              Angelique was staring. It was a virtual
buffet.

             
"What's this all for, Wyatt?"

             
"I figured you'd be hungry, babe --and it's your birthday."

             
A large table in the middle of the suite's living room was covered in polished silver chafing dishes, platters, everything for a feast and all of it emitting a delicious mouthwatering aroma.

             
She was
starving.

             
"That was so nice of you, Wyatt, thank you. Do I get a birthday cake too?"

             
"Right over there," he pointed, "and you're welcome. And something else, a private bar. I'm going to make you some delectable concoctions."

             
"You know you don't have to get me drunk to have your wicked way with me, Wyatt. I believe I demonstrated that last night."

             
His face softened, he kissed her briefly and stroked her hair, she near dissolved.

             
"Last night was good for you?" he asked, his voice melodious, his eyes liquid. "It was okay? You're not sorry?"

             
"It was the best day --or I suppose night, no, technically morning, oh whatever, of my life, Wyatt. And I thank you for it." How could she explain it to him? Two lifetimes, never a
connection
in either, but last night? Last night she had learned what being human really was, what was beyond simple touch, what it was like to be truly glad to be alive not to mention going
BA-VOOM
three times.

             
"You must be Angelique!" a voice called excitedly.

             
Angelique turned and saw a man standing in the doorway of one of the bedrooms grinning jovially at her. He looked a few years older than her, young and slick with bold black eyes. There was a look of perpetual amusement on his face as he stared at her with unreserved wholehearted welcome. He was tall, wearing a polo shirt exposing huge biceps (he could crack a chestnut with those, she thought) and grabbed her hand heartily.

             
"I'm George, Wyatt's brother, also known as the guy who never turns down a free hotel room."

             
"George is the head of the technical division at my company, Angelique."

             
"Yesiree, smart geek brain and a job easy enough I never have to use it. Wow, look at all this food, I see you got the everything-that-can-be-chafed-is-chafed package," he laughed, rowdy and irresistible.

             
Angelique liked him instantly, he was just so comfortable with himself, so accessible, the kind of person you just knew was never disagreeable.

             
"Why don't you join us, George? There sure is plenty."

             
Wyatt shot a glance at George who threw up his hands in mock surrender.

             
"Thanks Angelique but I think I'm going to go lose ten grand to the casino. You want me for, er, anything bro, cell's fully charged."

             
"See you later," Wyatt said meaningfully.

             
George was almost out the door when Angelique rushed him, kissing him full on his lips, hard. He blinked at her in astonishment.

             
"For luck," she said.

             
"Hooo-kay," he breathed looking nervously at Wyatt who rolled his eyeballs spiritedly like he was trying hard not to laugh.

             
"Angelique," Wyatt finally grinned, "has
talents."

             
George didn't know what that meant but his brother's about to be new wife was fabulously beautiful and that alone made her okay with him --Maureen would go nuclear and anything that ticked off Bitch Central was fine by him. And heh! As head of public relations at the company it was probably
Maureen
who'd hired Angelique's troupe to sing at the Gala in the first place!
She'd
brought in Angelique without even knowing it!

             
Holey G'moley when Maureen finds out what she did she is gonna expire!

             
"Lets eat, shall we?" Wyatt said as George closed the door behind himself, rocking with laughter inside.

*****

              Wyatt loved her, he hated having to do this to her. Something deep within him though demanded that he keep her safe and the only way to do that was to possess her and the only way he could figure to do that (short of locking her away on a tropical island which he'd actually fantasized about) was marrying her to him. He categorically had to protect her.

             
And so he began, the preparations meticulous. A piña colada was first, she didn't really like it ("too strong") so he insisted she finish it and he would make her something else. He urged her to sample all the dishes he'd ordered, each of them saltier than the last. He served no water and when she asked for some he frowned. It was after she'd finished the fourth drink her eyes drooped, her speech slurred, her brain fogged.

             
"Come," he said, "I have to go pick something up."

             
"You go..." she shrugged, "I'm... lie down..."

             
"Lie down in the car," he said getting her purse leading her to the door and pulling out his cell phone. Johnson would be in the rental waiting.

             
She fell asleep in the car, he had to wake her for the Bureau. Still, she was able to stand if a little wobbly. The clerk came very close to refusing to hand over the License and Certificate due to the bride's obviously inebriated state but in the end Wyatt's wilting glare auguring nothing but trouble won out over her askance one, and she decided it wasn't worth the fuss. Angelique fell asleep in the car again on the way back to the hotel.

             
"Get to the suite," Wyatt said into his phone to George, "we're on our way."

             
"Wyatt, you are not going to believe this. I won! Everything I played I freakin'
won!
I'm up five hundred thousand grand! I am
hot!
Just give me another thirty minutes--"

             
"No! Get to the suite
now!
We're pulling in, George. The minister is there waiting.
Do it.
Do not screw with me on this."

             
Damn it to hell,
George thought,
I bet I could get up to a million.

             
"Okay," he grumbled, "I'll cash out. See you there."

             
"Where're...going?" Angelique mumbled, unable to focus her eyes.

             
"A wedding."

             
"Oh," she said gamely still trying to focus. "S'nice. I don't feel--"

             
"Hang in there, Ange, you can lie down in the suite."

             
"S'okay."

             
The minister was well paid and well instructed (by Johnson) and, feeling Wyatt's fierce determination near overwhelming the room, said nothing untoward to disrupt the ceremony. When it came to Angelique's turn to speak, however, she said nothing.

             
"Say yes, Angelique," Wyatt coached in steely resolve.

             
"Huh?"

             
"Say yes. You want to."

             
"I do?"

             
She said it
. Wyatt stared fervently at the minister attempting to dominate him with his will. The minister, already besotted with acute misgivings having sensed Angelique's extreme confusion, plucked up his courage, opened his mouth to rebuke Wyatt at which point his courage failed him miserably.

             
Wyatt's voice rasped with impatience as he tried again.

             
"Yes. Say
yes
.
"

             
"Okay."

             
"No,
yes.
You have to say it. And sign it."

             
"Yes," she said gullibly, everything was blurred and askew and fading and she felt queasy. She wasn't sure what was going on, just some sort of wedding thing that was happening. Somebody's rehearsal, she figured. She wanted to sleep.

             
Wyatt's eyes gleamed in triumph. The minister finished the ceremony rapidly, pitching each word an octave higher than the last. At Wyatt's request, she signed a card.

             
"George!" Angelique burbled drunkenly, recognition seeping through her alcohol soaked brain as he signed the card too.

             
"Angelique," he responded sheepishly but with eyes radiating devilment, "I think you need to sit down."

             
"I really like your brother. Wyatt."

             
"That's good, Angelique. That'll come in handy."

             
"He's so nice."

             
"Un huh. He's right over there with Johnson," George pointed to Wyatt handling paperwork with the harrowed minister who was attempting a hasty retreat.

             
"Oh yeah." She waved crookedly. "I did it with him last night."

             
"I know."

             
"He said I was
tight
and I don't know how to fix it."

             
"Tight is good, Angelique, don't worry about it."

             
"It is? Thaz a
sex
planation. I thought he was hurting himself. He groaned a lot."

             
"That's good too."

             
"He likes me an' he doesn't hardly know me, he's barely scratched the tip of the iceberg." She paused. She wasn't sure that had come out right.

             
"He loves you."

             
"I fell in love wi' him under a stage."