“You were supposed to go to the Johnny Kilgore show at Caesars Palace,” she said slowly, keeping her gaze focused on his face and trying to ignore his broad shoulders and muscular chest.
He nodded, his expression inscrutable. “But we got to talking and one thing led to another.”
One thing led to another.
Christy tried to still her rising panic. She’d been tired and hadn’t had much to eat for dinner but still, she couldn’t have had more than a drink or two. Besides, there wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to make her abandon her moral values and go to bed with a man she hadn’t seen in ten years. Still, the evidence seemed overwhelming.
“You spent the night,” she said, surprised she could sound so calm. “You and I made love.”
She said it as a statement of fact, hoping he’d tell her no. Instead he nodded.
“You do remember.” He studied her face with his enigmatic gaze for an extra beat.
Her chest tightened and it was all Christy could do not to break down and cry. How could she have gotten so off course? This man she barely knew had held her, kissed her, caressed her. And not only had she let him, she had the feeling she’d encouraged him.
She took a deep breath. “I always vowed that the only man I’d ever sleep with would be my husband.”
David’s tense expression softened. He reached over and took her left hand, lifting it so she could see the ring.
“You didn’t break that vow, Christy,” he said quietly. “You and I were married last night.”
Chapter Two
The room spun like an out-of-control tilt-a-whirl and Christy swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat. “You’re lying,” she said wildly, even though she knew it was the truth. “It was only a dream. I wouldn’t have married you. We’re all wrong for each other.”
“That may well be.” The muscle in his jaw twitched but his expression remained carefully controlled. “But the fact remains we are married. Now we have to decide what we’re going to do about it.”
“What do you mean?” she said.
His expression darkened with an unreadable emotion. “We could get an annulment.”
Annulment.
Did he really think a few strokes of a pen could obliterate the night they’d spent together? Heat filled her cheeks. Even now her pulses skittered alarmingly at the memory and there was a tingling in the pit of her stomach.
“I think you’ve forgotten one important fact.” Christy cleared her throat. “The marriage has been consummated.”
She tried to speak calmly, hoping that if they kept their emotions out of this, they might be able to come to a sane, rational solution. Even though at this point Christy wasn’t sure exactly what that would be. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, it’s a little late for an annulment.”
“All right, then, a divorce?” He lifted a dark brow, his voice filled with as much emotion as one would use to order room service.
I’ll have two eggs poached, some whole wheat toast and a divorce on the side.
Divorce.
Just the word made her shudder. For the past four years of her life she’d built a name for herself, traveling coast-to-coast lecturing on the institution of marriage, on ways to make bad marriages better and good marriages stronger. Ways to ensure that a couple stayed together forever.
But now she’d entered into that sacred institution in haste. Would she be the next one getting a divorce?
But was the easiest way the right way?
Christy took a deep breath and briefly closed her eyes.
When she opened her eyes David was watching her intently, still waiting for a response. She wished she knew what he was thinking. Did he want her to agree with him? Or would he be willing to do the unthinkable and give their marriage a chance?
“David.” Christy’s voice trembled with emotion. She took a deep breath and tried again. “Divorce may seem to be a ready solution to our problem. But—”
A knock sounded at the door. Christy swung a panicked gaze to David.
“Get on some clothes,” she hissed.
“It’s probably just housekeeping,” he said, reaching for the shirt and pants he’d worn last night. But when his hand moved to the towel around his waist, Christy averted her gaze.
“Could you come back later?” she called to the closed door. “I won’t be checking out quite yet.”
“Miss Fairchild,” a deep voice answered. “I’m Andrew Lowell and I’m a reporter with the Las Vegas Review-Journal. I apologize for interrupting your honeymoon, but I’d like to ask you a few questions about your marriage last night.”
“So much for keeping things quiet,” she muttered.
Now that the local press had the news, it wouldn’t be long before the wire services picked it up. Her heart sank to her feet.
Though Christy had no intention of letting the reporter in, she couldn’t let him go without finding out what he knew. She wrapped the sheet around her like a toga and hobbled across the room.
“Mr. Lowell, answer a question for me. How did you find out about my marriage?”
“Miss Fairchild, nothing that goes on in this town’s wedding chapels stays a secret for long.” The man’s laughter echoed through the door. “Especially when a noted authority on keeping marriages together takes the plunge herself. I really would appreciate five minutes of your time.”
It seemed incredibly rude to be talking through a closed door, but Christy had been around her share of reporters. She knew if she opened the door even a crack, she might find herself on the front page of some tabloid dressed only in a sheet.
“I’m afraid now is not a good time, Mr. Lowell. But if you’ll slip your name under the door, my publicist will be in touch.”
“But, Ms. Fairchild—”
“Goodbye, Mr. Lowell.” Christy turned her back to the door and faced David.
“Looks like a quick divorce is out of the question now,” David said, buttoning his cuffs.
Her heart tightened in her chest. For their marriage to stand a chance, they would both have to decide to make it work. She couldn’t do it alone.
She stared at David for a long moment and wondered what he would say if she told him she wanted to see if they could beat the odds. Would he be willing to back such a long shot? Could she convince him to go for broke and try to make their made-in-Vegas vows work?
David tossed Christy’s room key onto the desk in his room and sank into a nearby chair. After making sure the reporter had gone, he’d made his getaway, leaving Christy to shower and get dressed. Over breakfast they would discuss their future.
Married.
It hardly seemed possible. Granted, he’d expected to come back from Las Vegas engaged. But it was his longtime friend Lauren Carlyle who he’d thought would be wearing his ring.
After all, he was pushing thirty and he needed a wife. His grandfather’s dictate had made that clear. Marrying for love just didn’t seem to be in the cards. But he and Lauren were good friends. They both wanted the same things out of life—a home, a couple of kids and time to spend with family and friends. She said she loved him. He’d hoped that one day he’d love her, too.