SHE SHOWED UP TEN MINUTES late in a black sheath dress with a matching wide-brimmed hat. Appropriately, she looked like she was dressed for a funeral, but it made little difference to me. She couldn’t understand the irony of her wardrobe choice, but I could. Judging by the smirk on her crimson lips, she thought she was getting one over on me already.
The joke was on her.
“I considered you might pull something like this,” I told her when she stepped into my office. “So, you can take a seat and wait until the officiant arrives in twenty minutes.”
“You said noon.” She flopped onto the seat opposite of me and scrubbed at a mark on her glossy red fingernail.
“Indeed, I did.”
She was quiet after that while I continued to work on my laptop, but it didn’t escape my notice that her sister was absent. I had a suspicion she’d throw a colossal fit if she knew what Gypsy was doing, and I wondered what she’d told her.
“Didn’t want your sister here for the occasion?” I asked.
She snorted. “You’d have to physically restrain her if she knew what was going down in here right now. I’d rather just avoid that whole mess, thank you.”
I returned my attention to the screen in front of me, reading over the witness statements in Emmanuel’s case. The preliminary hearing gave me an opportunity to review the prosecutor’s evidence, and I believed I was within reason to file a motion to suppress some of that evidence based on the method of collection. A warrant was never issued, and what the arresting officer deemed probable cause was weak at best.
The prosecutor was pushing hard for a plea, but I already advised Emmanuel I didn’t think it was wise to take it. We both knew there was reasonable doubt, and I intended to prove it. But first, I just needed to get Emmanuel through the coming months and the trial, and I needed to stay healthy enough to see the process through until the end.
“This is like, really romantic,” Gypsy remarked. “What I always dreamed my wedding day would be like.”
I scribbled a note about a witness that I needed to follow up on and returned my attention to my needy future bride. “I can’t imagine you ever dreaming of a wedding. Unless it included a loaded old man who was about to kick the bucket.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re old enough to be my father.”
I smiled. “Does that mean you’re going to call me daddy?”
When her face blanched, I knew I’d hit a nerve with her, but she needed to learn when to keep her mouth shut. This wasn’t about her, and it was a difficult concept for her to grasp. From the time she’d run from California with her sister in tow, Gypsy had made a habit of ensuring she got whatever she wanted at any cost.
Though I was aware of the events that transpired to create this little monster, I knew that regardless of her front, she didn’t want this life. She’d transformed herself from a terrorized child who had nothing into a self-indulgent brat who thirsted for money and vengeance. It was time that she had an authority figure to guide her and, more importantly, to humble her.
“You are deranged,” she muttered. “You know that?”
“So I’ve been told.” I shrugged. “And I’m only forty. By all accounts, that should be younger than what you’re used to.”
“Not by much,” she countered. “The oldest guy I ever conned was forty-three, so don’t consider yourself special.”
We had seventeen years between us. It probably was a little deranged that when I thought about her, my cock swelled to a level of discomfort I hadn’t experienced in years. So far, I’d succeeded in redirecting my thoughts from nature to nurture, but it wouldn’t always be so simple. Everything about Gypsy exuded sensuality on a level I hadn’t experienced before. She was the mysterious and exotic creature that all other women aspired to be, and the one who men thought only existed in their dreams. But to me, she could only ever be a temporary responsibility.
Jessica knocked on my door to alert us to the presence of the officiant. Rex had already been given my instructions earlier, and he came prepared. Dressed as casually as possible in jeans and a tee shirt, he shot one look at my bride and arched his brows, letting out a low whistle.
She glared, and I laughed. Rex worked in a drive-through chapel off the Strip, and he was about as classless as they came.
He clapped and rubbed his hands together. “We ready to do this? I have two hookers handcuffed to my bed at home, and I’m paying them by the hour.”
“Really?” Gypsy flayed me with her eyes. “This guy? Could you get any lower?”
I walked around the desk to join her with a smirk. “Only the best for you, baby doll.”
She blew out a breath and tossed her hat on the chair behind us. “This is going to be a long fucking marriage.”