Margaret slid into the white dress the agency had packed into the top of one of her suitcases. It wasn’t a typical wedding dress, being off the shoulder and only knee length, but it did hug her in all the right places. The letter inside her luggage had told her exactly what to wear with it for maximum effect. While it was mildly creepy to have the agency know so much, it was also helpful, because she was shaking from head to toe.

They’d talked the night before in his room, nothing much more than background, superficial things. Neither of them had been willing to ask anything deeper, more meaningful. But when the night was over, he’d stared at her like he’d wanted to kiss her. That had started a torrent of feelings that had left her wishing she’d brought a toy or two. She’d always been needy, ever since she realized touching herself felt pretty damn good. Seeing him this morning, after what she’d done the night before just thinking about him, would make their wedding all too slow, and all the much better after.

Clint waited in his own room. He’d already called her to let her know he was ready and as soon as she was dressed, they would go to the chapel where the quick service had already been arranged for that evening. Though he was hesitant about her, he also seemed drawn to her. They’d gotten along well the night before. That was good, she might never be able to tell him the truth, but it would be easier for him to understand if she ever had to.

She put the finishing touches on her makeup, then picked up the phone and dialed his room number. He answered on the fourth ring.

“I’m ready.” Her breathless voice sounded strange to her ears. Was she really excited about this? Certainly, it was exciting to put the past behind her, but this new future was anything but secure.

He paused for a moment. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to have to drag us through anything unnecessary…”

He had every right to be nervous, he didn’t know her and he had a lot to lose if this didn’t work. Nor did he know she would do her best to make sure he was happy, since it would be because of him she could be free to laugh again. That alone was priceless.

“I’m certain. Are you?”

He hesitated for a loaded second. “Yeah, I’ll come get you.” He hung up the phone and Margaret took a deep breath. He knocked a few seconds later. At least he was prompt.

She opened the door to let him in and was taken aback for a moment at the man in her doorway. He’d been handsome in jeans the day before. Boyishly cute. In his suit, he left her weak in the knees. He’d looked military with his physique and hair, but didn’t scare her like her brother. Clint had valiant protector written over every angle of his chiseled chin. She wanted to forget about the wedding, wherever it was, and drag him into her room. She’d managed to honestly tell the service she was a virgin, because she’d never had real sex. It was all a matter of definition. She’d used plenty of things to stimulate herself, as her need was great, getting greater by the second, but had never allowed anything longer than a lover’s finger to pleasure her.

“Wow,” his strong thin lips slid up just slightly in appreciation, “you look amazing.”

“Like a million bucks?” She did a turn for him and hoped he appreciated all her assets.

“At least.” He offered his arm and she grabbed her tiny clutch purse. She’d have to ask him for a phone at some point, so she had something to put in her purse. She hadn’t wanted to apply for one under her old name and tip off her brother where she might be. Even a phone with no plan needed a credit card and she didn’t have one of those, either.

“I guess this place is in the Teton National Forest. It’s pretty exclusive. I’m surprised they were able to book something there on such short notice.”

She’d never made anyone nervous before, but there he was, talking again, just to avoid the silence. “I’m sure they used your credit card and your name to do it. Especially since the agency isn’t supposed to exist.”

He laughed and pressed the elevator button. “I’m sure you’re right. Unless Mrs. Creed holds a lot of favors, there’s really no other way she could do it.”

The agency had told her to keep everything secret, but Clint would know. He’d used the company as much as she had. “I don’t think Mrs. Creed holds anything but a lot of money. There weren’t many girls in my apartment building, but enough that she’ll be a wealthy woman by the time she retires.”

He led her into the elevator and his eyebrows rose. “Apartment building? There were that many women?”

She nodded, seeing no reason to keep it from him. “Oh, and that’s only the ones who came from out of state. Many come from Texas, so they have no need to rely on the agency for housing.”

“Hmm, I thought many of the women came from money. Though not all, of course.” He mumbled, and it made her nervous, like he mentally wrote down her every word.

“Very few come from money, but we’re trained through the agency on how to act. Some do, those who are specially requested.”

“Interesting. It seemed yesterday like my suite didn’t impress you in the slightest. Are you one of those that came from money, or was the training just that good?”

He was pushing too close to where he could not enter, finding out too much about a past that had to stay under lock and key. Marharyta needed to die, so that Margaret could live. “I’m just not all that impressed with wealth. It means nothing in the end.”

“Well, that may be, but without it, we wouldn’t be here, now would we?”

The elevator door opened and the same woman who’d been working the desk the day before was there—the woman who’d eyed Margaret like she was crazy. Margaret linked her arm with Clint and tried to relax as they walked through the lobby. He smiled down at her and she did her best to return it. It would be much easier once the license was signed and she could take a copy to the nearest visa office to apply for a green card and after that, citizenship. Without that certificate, she would have to go home in a few weeks. Her travel visa had almost expired.

Clint squeezed her hand. “Having second thoughts? You looked about a million miles away.”

She tucked her plans to the back of her mind, Ukraine wasn’t a million miles away, but she didn’t want to get any closer. There was nothing she could do this moment anyway, except scare her husband into leaving her at the altar. “No, I was just thinking that Margaret Sage doesn’t sound right.” Although it was fine, it was an easy change of subject to somewhere safe.

He slowed their steps so they could walk right through the rotating door and outside to the waiting car. “How about Maggie?” he offered, waiting for her to climb into the car first.

She ducked her head and slid across the seat, waiting for him next. As he slid in, she answered, “No. I’ve never been fond of that name.”

“Okay, how about Margie?”

It wasn’t fair to all the Margie’s in the world, but to her it sounded old. “No. Not that either.”

“Oh, I’ve got it. Rhetta. It’s perfect, exotic like you. Rhetta Sage. Though, if you were born in Russia, your real name probably wasn’t Margaret anyway. Maybe Rhetta is even more foreign to you.”

It touched her that he would even think about her real name, though perhaps he was still fishing for information. “If you like Rhetta, we can use that.”

He reached for her hand and dug into his pocket with the other. He pulled out a little blue cardboard box. “I can’t have a wife who doesn’t wear a ring. This is the engagement part, I’ve still got the other in my pocket.”

The ring was chilly and she stared at the single band with a large princess cut diamond setting. “Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say. It was lovely, but far larger than anything she would’ve chosen for herself. “I’m afraid I don’t have one for you. I’m sorry.”

He laughed and ran his hands up and down his thighs, nervous with her again. “I’m not worried about it just yet.”

The car had yet to move and she glanced out at the street. “Why are we still here, what’s taking so long?” It made her nervous that she had no control over anything, every minute of her life had been a source of worry for so long, letting go of the control ate her alive.

Clint slipped his hand around her and gently pulled her to his side, his muscled arm draped over the seat behind her and his warmth and protection a comfort. “Don’t worry. They’re just bringing our bags down. Our wedding is almost seven hours from here, so we aren’t staying in Cheyenne tonight.”

She tried to relax, to enjoy Clint’s attention and the warmth that started low in her core when he touched her, but she’d worried about her life and its direction for months. It was difficult to give up the wheel. “Sorry, I had no idea.”

He raised an eyebrow and turned her face to him. “You didn’t know that Cheyenne was a long drive from the National park?”

He’d caught her. Anyone from Wyoming would’ve known. She tried to think of some way to salvage her story. “I told you, I’m not from Cheyenne, remember? I flew in yesterday from another area of Wyoming, it’s a big place.”

His blue eyes bore into hers and her hungry body grew needier. bringing back all her feelings from last night. Her thighs quivered in expectation. After their wedding, she’d finally find out what it was like for a man to really pleasure her. It was difficult to even think about the conversation. She’d allowed a few men to touch her when they’d sparked a need within her, but never more than touching. Clint would be the first.

“Why don’t you tell me a little about…Carver, was it?” He tucked her back into his side like she was a treasured lover, not a bride he didn’t know.

She held her breath, trying to recall the little bit of info from the backlit small billboard in the terminal and what she’d already told Clint. “It’s this little place in the middle of nowhere. Small town. I used to ride horses there, before I lost my family. It’s wide open, part green, part arid, all beautiful.” She repeated the ad word for word. Wyoming sounded amazing and she’d only just gotten there. Soon, they would drive out of the city and she’d be able to experience it for real.

“Rhetta?” He waited for her to glance up and meet his eyes, even though she didn’t want to, she had the sudden feeling like she’d walked into a trap.

She licked her lips and swallowed, his eyes honest and almost…demanding. “Yes?”

“When we met yesterday, you said you were from Barnes, not Carver, as I just asked you. There is no Barnes, Wyoming. There’s a Burns, but not a Barnes and it’s not that far from Cheyenne. So, why don’t you tell me where you’re really from and why you’d lie to me? I warned you about lying to me.”