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“Guess I can kinda see how that would go down,” he said slowly, following my logic. “Pepper does have a bigmouth.”
“Thebiggest.”
He eyeballed me thoughtfully. “You put that togetherquick.”
“It’s kinda myjob,” Isaid.
“So when you said we’re not telling anyone… you meant literallyanyone.”
“That’sright.”
“For howlong?”
“For-fucking-ever.”
He stared me down for the longest few seconds in history, shaking his head like I’d truly fucking stumped him. Too bad. We were doing this my way—in secret—or not atall.
Finally he cracked a bemused smile. “You know, you’re a strange one,Maggs.”
“Trust me, my friend, you are way the fuckstranger.”
He shrugged. Then he was back to his phone, all business. “I won’t call Jude. We’ll get someoneelse.”
“But—”
“Trustme.”
I bristled, and he caughtit.
“If I’m gonna be your husband, you’re gonna have to learn to trust me,” hesaid.
“Don’t start thatshit.”
“Whatshit?”
“Calling yourself my husband. There’s still plenty of time for me to ditch your ass before we get to thealtar.”
He just smiled his crazy-hot Viking smile and stood there, staring at me, like he was waiting for me to go ahead andditch.
Yeah. The bastard was calling mybluff.
I rolled my eyes. But I made no move todisappear.
“Go put that sexy dress on,” he ordered, “or I’m marrying you in your jammies. You’ve got… sixminutes.”
I gave him my coolest, most unhurried look. “Sure. After you get out of myroom.”
“No problem. Meet you out there.” He flicked his chin toward the main room and saunteredout.
I shut the bedroom door behind him. Then I tossed those slutty pink undies across the room in a frustrated snit and started digging through my travel case in search of something else. I wasn’t sure what the right underwear to get married to Zane Traynor in was, but it wasn’t those. If only I had some granny panties to put on. Serve him right if he tried to get up under my skirt. Knowing Zane though, it’d probably just turn himon.
Fuckingperv.
I knew I’d found just the right panties and bra when I saw them, though. I grabbed my makeup bag and took everything into the bathroom to getready.
I put on the lingerie, really fucking glad I’d had a hot date tonight—yeah, right—so I was all neatly shaved and moisturized. No marrying Zane with shin stubble. I pulled on the dress, made up my face with the basics—quick dash of mineral makeup, lip gloss and mascara—and smoothed out my hair, with a couple minutes to spare. With all the travel and the crazy pace of my work life, I’d become pro at doing this top speed, able to get ready for any given situation at a moment’snotice.
Never thought I’d be doing it for my own wedding, though. Probably would’ve thought I’d be paying a professional to do this when I got married. And maybe I’d have some friends here, getting ready withme?
