then get the wild hair to get married but aren’t sure how to make it happen. Vegas, as a whole, makes it easy. It’s our stock in trade.”
“Our?”
“Oh, I lived there. And worked there. I was a manager at one of the restaurants in the Celestial Palace. Cloud Nine.”
“Ah, I see.” No, he really didn’t. But that wasn’t the biggest of his problems. “So we got married. How legal is that?”
She threw her head back and laughed again. He stared at the exposed pulse point, wanted to go back to making her moan while he paid extra attention to her throat.
“It’s legal. I have the license. So no worries there.”
No worries? He felt like she was talking circles around him. And this time he wasn’t even drunk. “Okay, so how do we fix that?”
“Fix what?”
Chapter 5
He stared at her, waiting for the “gotcha” face, or for her to start laughing again. Or for Ashton Kutcher to bust down his door and tell him he’d been punked. Instead, she stared at him like he was the crazy one. “What do you mean? The marriage. The… the thing. What do we do?”
Her face went carefully blank. “I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t think there was actually anything to fix, to be honest.”
He let that sink in, let her change in demeanor wrap around his mind. Huh. Maybe he was the crazy one. Because if she meant what he thought she meant…
She must have grown impatient with his silence, because she blew out a breath and asked, “Do you believe in Fate?”
He snorted. “No. Not really.”
“Okay, how about destiny? Chance? A belief in some invisible string pulling us along a path? People call it different things.”
He shook his head. “No. Our future is what we make of it. I’ve seen too much shit in my life to believe that it’s all out of our hands completely. I want to go into war knowing that my future is dependent on the choices I make, not on the whim of some deity or whatever. I control me.”
“Well, and I agree. At least to an extent.” She folded her hands in her lap, then looked at them for a moment. Suddenly, she jumped up so fast it was as if there was an eject button under her butt. When he started to stand as well, she waved him down. “No, I just think better on my feet.” And with that, she started to pace the floor in front of the fireplace. Her thin top billowed as she made turns in the tight area, her bare feet made no sound on the floor, and her hands were fluttering in front of her. Then she stopped.
“If you don’t believe in Fate, then how do you explain this?”
“This what?” He was really starting to lose it. Maybe the AC on the bus was laced with some noxious gas.
“This. Us. Our marriage.”
“I explain it as too much alcohol and a misguided desire to let loose for the evening.”
She snorted and started to pace again. He sat back and watched, equal parts amused and concerned. He’d never seen someone so animated before, so vibrant. She made thinking exciting. But then again, this wasn’t exactly the time for excitement and animation. A serious topic called for calm heads and cool conversation.
Excitement and animation led to a quickie wedding in Vegas. Yeah. They needed more level thinking here.
Suddenly, his mind went back to something she’d said. She’d lived in Vegas. She’d worked there. Past tense.
“Skye,” he said, measuring his tone carefully. “When you said you worked and lived in Las Vegas, was that a tense slip? Do you still live there?”
An about-face had her staring at him with a Man, you’re an idiot look. “No. If I still lived there, I’d say I live in Vegas. I know English.”
“Okay. So where do you live now?”
She tilted her head to one side. “Where do you think?”
He was starting to piece the Skye-shaped puzzle together, one bit at a time. And what he assumed was the finished product both exhilarated and terrified him.
“Maybe you should tell me exactly what you’re after here, Skye. Why did you go
“Our?”
“Oh, I lived there. And worked there. I was a manager at one of the restaurants in the Celestial Palace. Cloud Nine.”
“Ah, I see.” No, he really didn’t. But that wasn’t the biggest of his problems. “So we got married. How legal is that?”
She threw her head back and laughed again. He stared at the exposed pulse point, wanted to go back to making her moan while he paid extra attention to her throat.
“It’s legal. I have the license. So no worries there.”
No worries? He felt like she was talking circles around him. And this time he wasn’t even drunk. “Okay, so how do we fix that?”
“Fix what?”
Chapter 5
He stared at her, waiting for the “gotcha” face, or for her to start laughing again. Or for Ashton Kutcher to bust down his door and tell him he’d been punked. Instead, she stared at him like he was the crazy one. “What do you mean? The marriage. The… the thing. What do we do?”
Her face went carefully blank. “I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t think there was actually anything to fix, to be honest.”
He let that sink in, let her change in demeanor wrap around his mind. Huh. Maybe he was the crazy one. Because if she meant what he thought she meant…
She must have grown impatient with his silence, because she blew out a breath and asked, “Do you believe in Fate?”
He snorted. “No. Not really.”
“Okay, how about destiny? Chance? A belief in some invisible string pulling us along a path? People call it different things.”
He shook his head. “No. Our future is what we make of it. I’ve seen too much shit in my life to believe that it’s all out of our hands completely. I want to go into war knowing that my future is dependent on the choices I make, not on the whim of some deity or whatever. I control me.”
“Well, and I agree. At least to an extent.” She folded her hands in her lap, then looked at them for a moment. Suddenly, she jumped up so fast it was as if there was an eject button under her butt. When he started to stand as well, she waved him down. “No, I just think better on my feet.” And with that, she started to pace the floor in front of the fireplace. Her thin top billowed as she made turns in the tight area, her bare feet made no sound on the floor, and her hands were fluttering in front of her. Then she stopped.
“If you don’t believe in Fate, then how do you explain this?”
“This what?” He was really starting to lose it. Maybe the AC on the bus was laced with some noxious gas.
“This. Us. Our marriage.”
“I explain it as too much alcohol and a misguided desire to let loose for the evening.”
She snorted and started to pace again. He sat back and watched, equal parts amused and concerned. He’d never seen someone so animated before, so vibrant. She made thinking exciting. But then again, this wasn’t exactly the time for excitement and animation. A serious topic called for calm heads and cool conversation.
Excitement and animation led to a quickie wedding in Vegas. Yeah. They needed more level thinking here.
Suddenly, his mind went back to something she’d said. She’d lived in Vegas. She’d worked there. Past tense.
“Skye,” he said, measuring his tone carefully. “When you said you worked and lived in Las Vegas, was that a tense slip? Do you still live there?”
An about-face had her staring at him with a Man, you’re an idiot look. “No. If I still lived there, I’d say I live in Vegas. I know English.”
“Okay. So where do you live now?”
She tilted her head to one side. “Where do you think?”
He was starting to piece the Skye-shaped puzzle together, one bit at a time. And what he assumed was the finished product both exhilarated and terrified him.
“Maybe you should tell me exactly what you’re after here, Skye. Why did you go
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