The Rocque Casino had a chapel. Until yesterday Bonnie had imagined a limo trip. As it turned out all she had to do was go to the fifth floor, where the wedding chapel was situated. The morning had been completely taken with the stylists again. This time the hairstylist had put her hair up loosely, and twined little white flowers in the strands. Eventually, she settled for a simple silk sheath to wear for her wedding. It had a bateau neckline, cap sleeves, and a row of tiny pearl buttons down her back, which she accentuated with her own pearl stud earrings. Not real ones of course, but nobody would know that. The skirt ended a couple of inches above the knee. Aware that tiers of ruffles and bows would overwhelm her short stature, she aimed for elegant and with the help of the stylists, achieved it triumphantly. She even dared a pair of four-inch heels, and after a few practice walks, found her natural balance. The only touch of color she had was the emerald ring, which she’d switched to her right hand for the ceremony.
Garrett had slept apart since that one, explosive night, claiming he was taking the night shift. “Casinos close for nobody,” he’d told her. Although as considerate as ever, he’d kept his distance. Perhaps he was right. The level of sensuality they’d shared unnerved her, especially for what was meant to be a contract wedding.
But he’d roused a hunger in her. She prayed he wouldn’t stay away tonight.
The hairstylist surprised her with a small bunch of perfect white roses. They were scented. “So many roses these days don’t have a perfume,” she said, burying her nose in the fragrant blooms.
Outside, in the main room of the penthouse waited a man who appeared vaguely familiar, but she was sure she hadn’t met before. She’d have remembered the tall, elegant man who moved away from the window with a smile when she entered.
Now she had it. The smile and the eyes told her she was looking at somebody related to her fiancé. Instead of shaking her hand, he pulled her into his arms for a brief hug. “I’m Elliott, Garrett’s big brother.”
“I knew you must be related to him.” His face was narrower than Garrett’s he was less classically handsome, but he had the same easy air of command. “I thought his family weren’t coming.”
“Are you kidding me? The troops have mustered for this one. We didn’t think we’d ever see the day when Garrett gave everything up for love.” He leaned closer. “But we’re glad. Anybody seeing him with you on TV last night could tell you mean a lot more than Georgia G to him. We wouldn’t have come for that one.”
Bonnie wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t say so. “He caught me card counting,” she said.
Tilting his head back, Elliott hooted with laughter. “I saw that. Keep him guessing and you’ll be fine.”
Elliott wore a navy blue suit with the air of a man used to money. Of course he was. He was a Rocquelaire. From what she’d read they were hugely wealthy. Not for the first time she wondered why Garrett had walked away from all that, and claimed distance with his siblings.
“The tribe is downstairs, waiting for you,” Elliott said. “I came up to warn you.” He gave a short laugh. “And to meet you, I have to admit. You have us all wondering. Garrett is never distracted from his work. It had to be something earth-shattering that made him do it.”
“I wouldn’t say I was earth-shattering,” she murmured, uncomfortably aware she was part of a business decision, albeit one entered into with a great deal of haste.
The door opened to admit Murray, who gave Elliott a startled glance before he came forward. “We’re ready for you,” he said. He flashed a smile. “You look lovely.”
Garrett was downstairs waiting for her. She couldn’t go back now. Elliott gave her one last smile and headed out. Murray sighed. “Rivals to the end.”
She frowned. “What?”
Murray shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Old family history, that’s all. Elliott is two years older than Garrett and his full brother by blood. The only one. His Dad was a serial womanizer.”
“Their father was married six times, wasn’t he?” She’d read the brief biography on the company website.
Murray nodded. “He’s still married to the last one. She’s twenty years younger than he is, but he doesn’t have the energy to move on. Besides, he says he adores her.” Bonnie wondered at that. Didn’t he love the others? Murray didn’t elaborate on the laconic statement. Now wasn’t the time to ask, but he’d awakened her curiosity.
“Are you ready?” She laid her hand on his arm when he paused and turned to face her. “For what it’s worth, I think there’s more to this marriage than a way of avoiding Georgia. I’ve never seen Garrett so protective of a woman before. There might be more here for you than you think.”
There already was. From admiring Garrett’s integrity and fancying him like mad, Bonnie had slipped into stronger feelings. She had been calling it friendship, but now she wasn’t so sure. If it weren’t for the blinding speed of this whole business, she’d have had time to work it out.
There was no time now. She had to get married.
*****
Garrett hadn’t wanted his family to come. He’d downplayed his announcement when he’d called his father, only explained to him about Georgia’s pregnancy claim. That, it seemed, had only urged his newly romantic father to make the calls that had gathered the whole family here today. He couldn’t remember when they were all together like this. Even last Christmas, when they tried to meet, Elliott had been away serving his country.
Yet here they all were, sitting together at the front, wrecking Garrett’s attempt at a quick, quiet wedding. The press would go rabid. He’d lived down the name he’d been born with, turned himself into a normal private citizen by hard work. Now all that would be undone. What chance a useful life as a member of the Phoenix Agency after this fuss?
His heart sank. He glanced around when the door opened but it was only Elliott, slipping in to take a seat at the back. His brother gave him a grin and a nod.
Garrett gave him a stiff nod in return. Had Elliott met Bonnie?
An unaccustomed streak of jealousy hit Garrett’s midsection. If Elliott had touched her, Garrett would kill him. He’d thought he’d conquered that particular emotion years ago. Usually he didn’t care who his lovers met, but Bonnie was different. He shrugged. That was because Bonnie was his wife, and for a while she’d be part of his life. That was all.
When the door opened to admit her, relief warred with the fierce desire he now associated with her. Every time he saw her, he wanted her more, especially when she wore something as lovely as this dress. She hadn’t gone for full-on meringue, but a beautifully elegant dress that lovingly traced her curves, enticing but not blatant.
Georgia would have worn something sheer and way over the top.
Bonnie’s face was set in rigid lines, her tension obvious but controlled. He got to his feet, never taking his eyes off her as she slowly walked up the aisle to meet him. She came to him on her own, nobody to give her away or support her.
Garrett made a silent vow. From now on, whatever happened between them, she would have him. He would remain her friend.
Friend was an odd way to describe the way he felt. When she joined him, he smiled, trying to relax her but by then her tension had transmitted to him.
The service began. In ten minutes it was over, and he heard the words, “You may kiss the bride” with relief.
Tilting her chin up, he met her eyes briefly before he bent his head. By a thin, precarious edge, he managed to keep the kiss gentle and reasonably short, although he couldn’t resist a quick taste. Her glorious flavor sank into him, and he curved his arm around her waist to draw her closer.
The patter of polite applause brought him to a realization of where he was. Every time she did this to him, without fail. Perhaps once he’d had her a few more times his raw need would wear off.
Grinning like an idiot, Garrett led his bride back down the aisle, her arm safely tucked into his. Her emerald ring topped a new one, and he wore a matching gold band on the third finger of his left hand.
Given the choice, he would have dragged her upstairs, torn her clothes off and spent the rest of the day fucking her senseless. But his family was here, and photographers were waiting. He had to at least pretend to be civilized and show the avid readers of social media that he was truly married.
“You look good enough to eat,” he murmured, “which I fully intend to do later.”
A pink blush rose from her neck to her forehead. It might go lower, but the dress covered all but a shallow scoop of her chest. Never mind, he’d find out how far that pretty color went. He was sure he could make it happen again.
Her gentle touch on the sleeve of his jacket was enough to make him go into overdrive. He spoke to her in a normal tone. “There are photographers outside, but they’re ours. Murray won’t let any of the media through. We’ll release the pictures later. Are you ready?”
A woman bustled up to them, bearing a small bag, from which she produced a lipstick. She glared at Garrett. “You could have kissed her a lot gentler.” She made herself busy replacing the gloss Garrett had kissed off. “That’s a bit more resilient, but when you kiss her, don’t touch her lips.”
Garrett grinned. “I can’t promise that.”
With a sound of exasperation, she stepped back and Garrett was free to take his bride outside.
“Ten minutes here,” he murmured. “Then, unfortunately, we have a party to go to.”
The photographs were relatively painless, but toward the end, he caught her shifting from foot to foot. His wife wasn’t used to heels. “Come on, let’s go.”