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“How about someplace neutral. The Tunnel of Love Chapel?”
Some of JT’s tension faded. She really was approaching this as a business arrangement and he needed to do so as well. But ignoring her effect on him was easier said than done.
“Positively romantic,” he said, his tone dry.
“Good.” She glanced at her phone. “I booked it for midnight.”
“You were feeling pretty confident I’d say yes.”
She shrugged. “It made perfect business sense that you would.”
But business was the furthest thing from his thoughts at the moment. He was contemplating all the delightful things a husband did with his brand-new wife. “Are you going to leave the booking of the honeymoon suite to me?”
She looked positively horrified. “Perhaps I wasn’t very clear. A marriage in name only means no sex.”
“Not even on our wedding night?” he couldn’t resist asking. She was so delightfully earnest. It made teasing her a pleasure.
“I thought I wasn’t your type.” Her voice lacked any trace of amusement.
“Since you’re going to be my wife,” he said, “I figured I should make an exception just this once.”
“It’s a lovely thought but we should really keep this all business between us.”
“Whatever you say.”
“It will make things easier.”
She was oh so wrong about that. Nothing about being married to Violet was going to be easy. In fact, he’d better brace himself because things were about to get a whole lot harder.
Three
On her way across Fontaine Chic’s lobby, Violet decided it was okay if a bride felt excited and slightly terrified on her wedding day. Especially if the groom was sexy and enigmatic and the decision to marry was somewhere between logically conceived and wildly impulsive.
Wearing an off-white lace dress she’d bought on impulse that morning from one of the hotel’s shops, Violet’s heart double-timed to each click of her heels on the black marble floor. She clutched an overnight bag and a briefcase filled with Tiberius’s files on the holders of Stone Properties stock. Against her better judgment, she’d let JT talk her into spending their wedding night together at his house. In separate bedrooms, of course.
She wasn’t worried that he’d take advantage of her. He’d already pointed out that she wasn’t his type. That declaration still stung. With his reputation as a player, she hadn’t suspected he had a type beyond female, single and young. She was all those. So what about her didn’t appeal to him?
Was she the wrong height? Too thin? Too fat? Not pretty enough? Not sexy?
Violet slammed the door on curiosity. It didn’t matter if she was his type or not. Their marriage was a business arrangement. She needed to remember that. And to guard against demonstrating the way her body came alive whenever he drew near.
A bright blue BMW convertible stood at the ready in the hotel’s circular driveway. JT leaned against the car’s hood, wearing a dark gray, almost black suit and white shirt with a blush-colored tie that emphasized his potent charisma. He hadn’t spotted her yet so she had a private moment to observe his relaxed posture and utter gorgeousness as he joked with one of her bellhops. Thanks to anxiety, her muscles hadn’t been responding properly to the signals from her brain for the last hour; now they were positively spastic.
He was still laughing when their gazes met. The power of his smile knocked the breath from her lungs. Wanting his eyes to light up with pleasure at seeing her, she was crushed at how fast he sobered.
“Right on time, I see.” He stepped forward to take her bags.
Was he used to waiting for the women he dated? They probably took longer to primp and fuss than she had. In truth, her nerves had prevented her from applying eyeliner with a steady hand so she’d just dusted her lids with neutral eye shadow, buffed her cheekbones with blush and used a little powder to keep down the shine. It didn’t occur to her that she hadn’t applied lipstick until his gaze locked on her mouth.
A bride shouldn’t attend her wedding in such a state. She dug in her purse, but all she found was some lip balm. “Damn,” she muttered. “I don’t have any lipstick.”
“You don’t need any.” He opened the passenger door for her and gave her plenty of room to get by him. It was almost as if he was avoiding her. But why would he need to do that?
“I’m not sure I feel completely dressed without it.”
“I assure you, you’re completely dressed.”
