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Authors: Kim Carmichael

BOOK: On The Dotted Line
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Peter
gave him a slight nod and that was all they needed to move on.

“Can
you get something simple, not embarrassing for her, but maybe smack of
something other than what this is?” He took a breath and picked up the brochure.
“Let me talk to her for a second.”

“You
have two seconds.” Peter plucked the brochure away.

The
moment the lady returned, he walked to the back without asking permission and
found his bride-to-be sitting on a crushed red velvet bench. He sat next to her.
“I promise that once this is over the accommodations will be five-star.” The
operative word being getting the ceremony over, every minute seemed to inch by when
he wanted to sprint.

“What
was she like?” She stared into the mirror across from them.

He
studied her refection, noticing her absolutely perfect and petite features. When
silent, she was the personification of sweet and serene. “What?”

“The
woman you originally lined up for the job.” She crossed her leg, the slit in her
skirt now showing off a bit of skin.

For
the first time tonight he paused before answering, taking time to consider his
words. “No one really. Someone I knew for a while.”

“You
never fell in love?”

For
the woman who didn’t speak for most of the flight here, when they needed to
hurry the most he suddenly had a chatterbox and was at her mercy. Rather than
fight, he answered. “No. I tried, but no. Maybe I’ve been too fixated on the
end so I never allowed it.” He shook his head wondering where those words came
from and wrung his hands together.

“Everything
in this place is artificial.” She shook her head and stood. “I’ll be there in a
minute.”

Though
he wanted to protest at her delay, drag her back in front of whatever official
would perform the lightning ceremony, he bowed his head and slunk back out to
the front.

“I
got everything taken care of.” Peter gave him a thumbs-up.

“If
we’re ready we can meet her in the chapel.” The woman plastered a plastic
flower smile on her face.

“Yes.”
Not caring if he rushed her, he pointed forward.

“You
didn’t need to pay for another witness.” Peter elbowed him as they entered the
chapel. “You got me.”

They
both stopped at the end of the aisle.

“This
is the Chapel ‘de Amour.” The woman wiped her hand around the small space chock
full of a lot of…a lot, and all artificial.

The
theme from the front room carried on to the chapel, but in grander proportions
with bright pinks and reds. Hearts and cupids ruled every available space.

“You’ll
never forget this. I made sure to order pictures.” Peter laughed.

“Thank
you, and until now I thought it would only live on in my nightmares.”

The
official entered from the back and motioned them forward.

They
joined him.

“I’m
Reverend Calloway.” The older man in a white robe gave them both a smile and lifted
a paper. “Your associate indicated you wanted a basic ceremony.”

“Fine.”
He searched each entrance to the gilded wonderland waiting for his wayward
Willow.

“He
also ordered the commemorative license holder, the champagne glasses and bottle
of champagne.”

“Where
is she?” He looked at his watch and then Peter’s. “We have fifteen minutes.”

“Anxious
are we?” The minister chuckled. “Mimi is probably just giving her a little
sparkle. They may be a bit.”

They
were nearing single digit minutes. His throat dried out, but he found the
strength to inhale. Apparently these people didn’t understand the urgency. Even
Peter raised his hand.

Before
he let loose, bizarre recorded organ music filled the room and he turned toward
the entrance of the chapel.

The
doors opened and Willow entered.

Well,
Willow and a ton of artificial glitter entered. Reverend Calloway wasn’t
kidding, the front woman donned his short-term fiancé with a veil and tiara and
a bouquet of flowers, but everything from her head to her toes seemed dusted
with glitter.

“I
got the veil option.” Peter winked.

“And
the bejeweled option.” At last calmness claimed him, the same kind as when
sleep finally found him, or the aspirin started to work on a headache. He
smoothed down his jacket.

Even
in the saccharine setting, the ethereal quality Willow possessed shined through
brighter than the sparkles. If they had time for a white dress and clean up,
she would have been a magnificent bride, one he couldn’t help but paint on the
beach at sunset or in a forest with flowers in her hair. Watercolors would suit
her best. Maybe one day when her dreams became a reality, and her Nan was
settled, she could smile about their brief time together.

He
held out his hand when she joined him. Playing her part to a T, she handed her
bouquet to Peter and laid her hand in his.

“Dearly
Beloved...”

No
sooner did the man get the second word out than Willow raised her hand. “Stop.”

“Keep
going.” He grabbed her hand back. His heart threatened to burst out of his
chest and he broke out into a sweat.

“No.”
She resisted.

“We’re
getting married.” He widened his eyes. How dare she leave him with less than
ten minutes to spare? Where would he find another girl, the only option now was
that woman at the front.

“I
won’t say these vows.” She lifted her chin.

“Would
you rather recite your own vows?” Reverend Calloway asked.

“Yes.”
They both said in unison. Right now he would hire a screenwriter. One thing
about Willow, at least she was genuine and wouldn’t say words she didn’t mean. An
admirable quality for anyone, but especially a wife.

“Very
well.” The man glanced down at the paper. “Willow, why don’t you tell Randolph
how you feel?”

He
restrained himself from telling her to get on with it, and they faced each
other.

Her
hand trembled only slightly, and she inhaled twice. “Randolph, when I woke up
this morning I never anticipated the turn my life would take tonight. After
today a piece of us will always be intertwined. I hope you get everything you
want out of our union.” She stared up into his eyes. “I promise to do my best.”

“Randolph,
do you have anything to say to Willow?” The minister nodded at him.

The
urge to pull her closer overtook him, but he resisted and chose to lace his
fingers in hers. Her words were elegant and telling to the kind of person who
somehow saved him. Maybe the energy she spoke about was upon him tonight in the
alley.

He
stepped toward her and gazed into those eyes. The light blue was more of a tint
rather than a pure color, completely unique, exactly like her. “Willow, you
came into my life when I needed you most. I promise to make sure I deliver what
you need to make your dreams come true. You are genuine, the real article and
utterly stunning.”

A
blush stained her cheeks. She licked her lips and blinked several times, taking
one step closer to him before turning back to the official.

“Wonderful.”
The minister gave them a broad smile. “Though we are keeping with our own
special ceremony I still must ask if you, Willow Day and Randolph Emerson Van
Ayers the Third take one another as their lawfully wedded spouse?”

He
held his breath. The next four words had him sliding into home.

Willow
faced him. “I do.”

Without
waiting for the go ahead, he answered. “I do.”

The
minister put the bible down. “Are we exchanging rings?”

“Oh.”
Willow’s blush instantly vanished.

No
matter what galaxy they lived in, every woman wanted the ring. Apparently
someone didn’t read the contract too close, the mention of the rings was in
section three point nine. “I have the rings.” He let go of her only to retrieve
the box out of his suit jacket pocket.

The
second he opened the red leather box with the two rings, she gasped and put her
hand to her chest. “Randolph, I can’t take that.”

“This
was my great grandmother’s ring.” He lifted the six-karat marquis yellow
diamond out of the box. “For as long as we are married I would be honored if
you wore it.”

Her
focus shifted between him and the ring. She nodded her understanding and with a
bit of color returning to her face, held her hand out.

He
slipped the ring on her finger. “Perfect fit.” The way she basically told him
she didn’t expect the ring permanently renewed a bit of his faith in the world,
as did the way she wouldn’t sign their contract right away because she thought her
allowance was too much. In his whole life no one ever complained of extravagance.
Maybe they were destined to take this journey together.

“My
turn.” She plucked his great grandfather’s platinum band out of the box,
closing her hand around the jewelry. “It has good history.”

“I
hope so.”

She
put the ring on his finger, the visible proof he’d succeeded, and they stared
at each other. In anticipation of the last sentence, he squeezed her hand.

“By
the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you man and
wife.” Reverend Calloway said the magic words.

Peter
lifted his watch and nodded.

Five
minutes to spare.

“You
may now kiss your bride.”

At
the acknowledgement he won, he took the woman who made his life possible into
his arms. “I will never forget what you did for me,” he whispered the words
across her lips and their mouths connected.

He
planned on giving her a chaste, sweet kiss. A simple kiss of gratitude, one to
seal the deal, something to create a basic bond.

Instead,
she instantly reacted. Rich, plump lips molded to his, filling his mouth with such
as sweetness that he had no choice but to part his lips to take a better taste.

A
small moan escaped her throat and she wrapped her arms around his neck. With an
unexpected need stirring inside him, he held her tight against him, her breasts
pressing against his chest, and bent her back as their tongues dared a small
touch. Call it relief, need or something completely different, every nerve
ending fired off, shooting stars through his whole being.

“Talk
about a whirlwind marriage.” Peter’s voice interrupted them.

Willow’s
gasp broke their kiss. He stood up, blinking to bring their gaudy surroundings
into focus, but he only saw his new bride with her fingers pressed to her lips.

“Well,
may I present to you for the first time …” The minister took a breath and
peeked down at his notes. “Mr. and Mrs. Randolph Emerson Van Ayers the Third.”

Peter
clapped.

“I
wish you the best of luck.” The minister nodded.

With
a lifetime spent planning every move, reading every line, watching everything
with laser-like precision, the kiss threw him off. He stared at Willow.

Chapter
Three

 

 

 

“Mrs.
Van Ayers, would you like another glass of champagne?” As they walked down the
hallway top floor of the luxury hotel on the Las Vegas strip, Randolph held the
bottle up. “We have to finish it, it’s part of our wedding package.”

“That’s
not the champagne that came with our wedding package.” She held her glass out
for more of the incredible treat. After the wedding Randolph took one glance at
the bottle the chapel gave them, dubbed it unacceptable and by the time they
returned to the limo, Peter procured something more to Randolph’s liking. Though
she would never admit it, the drink was amazing. Bubbles of expense tingled
across her tongue. Though it caused a lot of bitterness, sometimes money tasted
sweet.

They
continued toward their room and Randolph filled their glasses once more,
finishing off their second bottle. “Mrs. Van Ayers, I propose a toast to you. You
saved me from myself.” He tapped his glass against hers. “My long search is
over.”

A
bad case of the giggles found her as an image of him in his suit and tie
searching for buried treasure flashed in her mind. She stopped and bent over,
the laughter paralyzing her.

“What
is it?” Randolph put his hand on her back.

She
caught her breath enough to get her words out, but the pressure built. “I have
a feeling you’ve never searched for anything in your life.” She straightened up
and leaned her head back to capture the last few drops of the amazing liquid,
tripping on her own sandal. The floor didn’t want to cooperate with her feet. “Oops.”

In
one graceful move, Randolph caught her, lifting her as if she didn’t weigh a
thing. “You’re wrong. I searched for you.” His green eyes darkened.

Her
world spun at the sudden movement, but her body tingled at the way he stared
her down. “Well, you had to search for your current wife in an alley.”

“I
couldn’t have found a better one on Rodeo Drive.” He brushed one fingertip
across her cheek. “Trust me.”

The
man changed once they made it official. His soft touches and sweet words
coupled with the champagne riled her up. “Oh.”

“I
think we should go to our suite now.” He carried her down the hall. “Unfortunately,
we drank our dinner and I need to learn to take care of my wife better.”

She
licked her lips at the way he glanced at her with an alcohol induced twinkle in
his eye, but willed the little flutter in her stomach away at how he kept
calling her his wife. Though technically true, it wasn’t spiritually true. “You
just don’t want me dropping dead before the year is out.” She needed to say
something to make him stop.

“Honestly
I don’t want you dropping dead at all.” He tilted his head and one of his curls
sprang down on his forehead. “Never. You will forever be a part of me.”

With
no response to those amazing words, she went with her gut and curled one arm
around his neck, pulled him down and kissed him.

Suddenly
a set of soft lips were upon hers. The same lips she discovered at her wedding.
In need of another sampling, she opened her mouth to try out that tongue once
more.

“Should
we get you to your room?” A male voice interrupted them.

“Peter’s
still here.” She tapped her husband. Her husband? “Oh my God.”

“What’s
wrong?” Randolph looked around.

She
motioned for him to bend down and cupped her hand over her mouth.

Randolph
offered her his ear.

“You’re
my husband.” She hoped he realized the enormity of it all, because she didn’t
know if she realized it.

“And
you are my wife, Mrs. Van Ayers.”

“Mrs.
Van Ayers.” She needed to hear herself say her name aloud. What had she done? Lost
in her thought she used her nail to trace the outline of his ear. “You have a
very nice ear.”

“Where
is this room already?” Randolph lifted his head.

“Right
here.” Peter stopped in front of a set of double doors and held up a card. “I
have your keys right here.”

“Don’t
you think keys were better when they were keys and not just some plain nothing?”
She scowled at the white plastic credit card looking thing with the hotel logo
on it. “Totally not sexy at all.”

“What
is sexy?” Randolph carried her the last few feet.

Her
mind didn’t want to focus, and she couldn’t remember what she wanted to think
about. Something about ears or maybe her name. “Real keys, real kisses.” She
narrowed her eyes, studying his ear some more. It had to be ears. “Someone
sucking on your earlobe? I think it’s a forgotten erogenous zone.”

He
stepped backward over the threshold and snapped the unsexy keys out of Peter’s
hand. “Say goodnight to Peter.” He opened the door.

“Goodnight,
Peter.” She waved at him as Randolph took them inside. She held on to her
husband. The world moved with them and she quickly made out a huge room with ultra-modern
furniture overlooking the Las Vegas Strip. All the lights sparkled outside the
darkened room.

“I
think we should get you to the bed.” He didn’t take his eyes off her.

At
last she remembered what she wanted to think about, her name. “You didn’t say
it.” She stuck her lower lip out to let him know she didn’t approve.

“What
didn’t I say?” He put her purse and shawl aside.

“For
a man with very good manners and my husband, I can’t believe you don’t know.” She
reached up and flicked his earlobe with one finger. Her mouth watered. Wait, maybe
her thoughts were of ears after all.

“Forgive
me for my
faux pas
.” He laid her down on the bed and joined her, putting
his hands on either side of her and lowering his head to the crook of her neck.
“What if I make it up to you, Mrs. Van Ayers?”

She
squirmed at how his voice vibrated through her whole body. “I suppose you can.”

He
trailed his lips up her neck to her ear.

She
held her breath.

He
ran his tongue around her ear creating a slow circle of shivers. “Better?”

All
he succeeded in doing is making her want more. “Not yet.”

“Let
me try harder.” He blew into her ear.

Unable
to get comfortable, she continued to writhe. “Getting there.”

“How
about this.” He took her lobe between those lips and sucked.

“Oh,
God.” Her body turned into nothing but a bundle of sensation, and going with
what her body told her to do, she slid her hands underneath his suit jacket.

“Hold
on, I think I’m missing something, Mrs. Van Ayers.” He leaned up, removed his
jacket and tended to her other ear, repeating his series of licks, kisses and
sucks on her opposite side.

“Now
I’m balanced.” She gave in and raked her hand through his curls admiring how
they shined with the glitter they doused her with. Perhaps she only wanted to
think about his hair.

“I
will strive to keep you perfectly even.” He glanced at her. “May I kiss the
bride?”

“You
already did that back in chapel and in the hall.” Though she could go for some
more anytime.

“Correction,
you kissed me. I think it’s my turn now.” He lowered his lips to hers.

All
her random thoughts dissipated at his kiss. Thoughtful yet passionate, he took
his time to taste each of her lips before deepening the kiss and finding her
tongue with his own.

He
wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

Any
last bit of control she possessed was lost the moment he moaned. The weight of
his body was perfect to keep her from floating away, the bulge in his pants
hitting her in exactly the right way to make her want to lose control. She
pulled his starched shirt from his pants, sneaking her hands up his back.

Randolph
slid his mouth down her jaw to her neck. His light kisses teased each of her
nerve endings to life.

“Randolph.”
Like it or not, he was her husband and he was turning her on. Her inner primal
self wanted him.

His
hand traveled down her side, grazing her breast, and rested on her waist. “Do
you need something?” He spoke into her open mouth before finding her lips once
more.

She
answered by kissing him harder and raising her knee. Every time she shut her
eyes she seemed to spin, and rather than fight the feeling, she let it overtake
her, doing how she had been taught her entire life and going with what she
wanted, what would make her happy. As if led by some unknown force, she pried
her fingers into the knot in his tie and untied it.

He
broke their kiss, stared into her eyes and snaked his hand inside the top of
her dress. “Willow?”

“Yes.”
Her breath caught. He cupped her breast in his palm. Without breaking eye
contact, she slowly pulled the tie out from his collar.

“No
bra?” He grazed his thumb across her nipple.

She
bit her lip. Already her entire being was over sensitized. “Never wear them.” She
managed to release two of the buttons on his shirt, but gave up on the work and
yanked it open the rest of the way. Satisfied the way the buttons popped off, she
ran her fingertips across his smooth chest.

“What
else don’t you wear?” He shimmied out of the wrecked shirt, throwing it off the
edge of the bed.

She
trailed one fingertip up from his belt buckle, over his flat stomach and up to
his neck. “I’ll give you one guess.”

“Yes.”
He crushed his lips to hers.

Sensation,
arousal and desire encompassed her. They kissed and touched, igniting her whole
body.

She
lost herself in the way he held her and how his muscles rippled beneath her
hands.

Finally,
he discovered the fact that she didn’t wear underwear, and his hand skimmed
over her, taunting and teasing, until he treated her to one finger and a
second. “So maybe you like me just a little.” He chuckled.

She
held on to him for support. “You’re very handsome.”

“You
are very beautiful.” Once more he kissed her and applied pressure where she
needed it most.

She
shook her head.

“You
are. I watch you enough to know.”

“Really?”
His naked body pressed against hers. Though she never remembered either of them
removing the rest of their clothes, the proof of his arousal rested against her
inner thigh, hot, thick and ready for relief.

Off
in the distance the telltale crinkle of a condom wrapper told her satisfaction
would soon be hers. She reached down, biting her lip when she could barely get
her hand all the way around him. “Randolph.”

“May
I give my beautiful wife a real wedding night?” He sheathed his erection.

“Yes.”
At the moment she would gladly trade her monthly allowance for an orgasm.

With
no resistance, he entered her and sucked in his breath.

At
being filled, she gasped and dug her fingernails into his shoulders. Her body
opened up for him, welcoming the invasion.

“You’re
perfect.” He put his hand behind her head and gave her a deep, languishing
kiss.

All
the rushing from earlier vanished, and he took his time with liquid smooth
strokes that built her arousal at the perfect rate.

She
shut her eyes, focused on the sensations around her. Their scents intermingled
with their bodies, his breath quickening, the way they moved together, no longer
two separate people but a unified force together.

“Willow.”
He slid one hand under the small of her back as if he couldn’t get close enough
to her. “I need you.”

In
desperate need of more as well, she wrapped her legs around his waist, imbedding
him further, allowing him to rub against her in the exact right way. Insatiable
heat swirled around her, begging to explode. She couldn’t wait. “I’m there.”

“Now,
Willow.” His fluid thrusts became hard and deep right as her body demanded it.

Uncontrollable
bliss burst through her. “Oh.” The ecstasy intensified and she sucked in her
breath and grabbed onto him, not wanting to ever let go of the source of pleasure.
“Don’t stop.”

“I
can feel you throbbing.” He tensed. As his own end overtook him, he ground into
her “God.”

Their
bodies pulsed in time, spoke their own language in a rhythm only two people
could create together in the most intimate of moments.

For
the first time she wasn’t left wanting or unfulfilled. Spent, her muscles
relaxed, giving her a few lingering quivers and finally covering her in a
blanket of calm and release. Sex in its most basic state was healing and
cleansing.

“Don’t
move an inch.” He brushed her lips against hers and got out of the bed.

Beyond
her control, her eyes closed and she called to the man she married. Behind her
eyelids she sensed the room darkened. “Randolph?”

“You’re
not alone, I’m right here.” The bed jostled with his return. He gathered her up
in his arms and got them under the covers.

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