Surrogate and Wife by Emily McKay Page A

wedding…she was deceiving them. And she’d continue to deceive them for as long as it took to keep her job.
    Suddenly it felt right that Beth had forced her into this frilly dress and heirloom shawl. It was the perfect costume for this farce. She was little more than an actress who’d wandered onto stage during a play. Except she didn’t know which play she was in and she certainly didn’t know any of her lines.
    Nevertheless, she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, and by the time she reached Jake’s side, her uncertainty had crystallized into anger. This was all his fault.
    The flowers, the guests—none of this could have been done without his knowledge. Surely he could have guessed she wouldn’t have wanted any of this.
    He leaned over to brush a kiss against her cheek and whispered, “Smile. No one will buy this if you keep looking like you want to kill me.”
    He pulled back and took her hand in his. Knowing hewas right, she plastered a smile onto her lips that she hoped passed for either “nervous bride” or “dopey romantic.”
    She could kill him later.
    Â 
    â€œI now pronounce you husband and wife.”
    Kate’s hand felt clammy in his. At least, she no longer looked ready to faint. Or strangle him.
    Her expression remained strained, but most people would probably write that off as nerves. Which would be normal, under the circumstances. He didn’t know how men did this for real. Hell, he’d been a nervous wreck all day.
    Except for the moment when he’d turned to see Kate standing in the doorway. In that instant everything felt right. Alarmingly so.
    But he’d shoved the sensation aside. Just as he’d done with the well of emotion he felt while sliding the simple platinum wedding band onto her finger.
    Whatever he’d felt, surely it wasn’t pleasure. Pride, maybe, in living up to his responsibilities. Doing the right thing.
    Satisfied that he’d pigeonholed his feelings, he returned his attention to the judge just in time to hear the words, “You may now kiss the bride.”
    A glance in the direction of the audience revealed a sea of expectant faces. Kate, on the other hand, looked as if she was wavering between feeling faint and wanting to stomp on his foot with the heel of her shoe.
    But whether she liked it or not, he had to kiss her.
    For a second he merely stared down into her wide brown eyes. Her lips were parted slightly and moist, because she’d licked them nervously during the ceremony.
    Kissing Kate would be no hardship.
    Part of him had been thinking about this moment eversince he’d first agreed to marry her—maybe longer. His first kiss with Kate.
    Maybe his only kiss with her.
    He felt a surge of anticipation mixed with determination. If this was going to be their only kiss, then he was going to make it count. Why the hell not? She already wanted to kill him anyway.
    So he wrapped one arm around her shoulders to pull her toward him and with the other hand he tilted up her chin in the instant before his lips came to rest on hers, he caught a ‘Don’t you dare’ expression in her eyes. But he did dare.
    Her mouth was soft and pliant beneath his. From surprise, most likely. Because as soon as she realized he wasn’t pulling away immediately, her lips stiffened and her hands pressed into his chest. She could easily have pushed him away if she’d really wanted to, but she never quite mustered the resistance.
    At the feel of her lips beneath his, the taste of her on his mouth, desire sprung to life, pumping through his blood. He found himself aching to press her against his body, to deepen the kiss. He barely restrained himself from sweeping his tongue into her mouth.
    But he did manage to finally pull back. He didn’t want her like this—kissing him because she had to. He wanted her eager. Warm and pliant. Hell, he just wanted her.
    He nearly cursed as