The Inconvenient Bride. Anne McAllister
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shrugged irritably. “Half a million.”
“Now? You’ll give it to me now?”
“You want to stop at a bank on the way to the courthouse?” He was halfway between sarcasm and disbelief.
But Sierra nodded gravely. “Yes. Please.”
He stared at her, wondering what went on inside her magenta-colored head. But he was annoyed enough, and reckless enough at the moment, not to care. “It’s a deal,” he said. “For half a million bucks you’ll marry me this afternoon.”
Sierra only hesitated a second. “Yes.”
Any minute now, Sierra figured, she’d wake up.
She’d yawn and stretch and open her eyes to stare at the cracked ceiling above her narrow futon bed. And she would laugh at the craziness of her dreams.
Marry Dominic Wolfe?
Sierra had had some weird dreams in her lifetime, but never one as weird as that. She blinked as she spritzed Alison’s hair. She rolled her shoulders and shook her head, trying to wake up. Surely it was time for the alarm to ring!
“What’s the matter with you?” Dominic demanded.
The matter was that she was awake.
He lifted his arm and shot back his cuff to glance at his watch. “We need to get moving.”
“Can’t,” Sierra said. “Not yet. I have work to do. A job. A commitment,” she explained when she realized that he wouldn’t think her job was worth bothering about. He understood commitments at least.
His jaw tightened, and she thought he would object. But finally he nodded. “Then do it. Let’s get this show on the road.”
And as Sierra stood there, mouth ajar, he pitched in and got things going.
No, that didn’t describe it. He didn’t pitch in. He commandeered. He took one look around and decided what needed to be done.
“You,” he said to Alison, “Stop sniveling and get dressed. You, too,” he said to Delilah. “And get your fingers out of your hair.”
To a stupefied Ballou, he said, “Stop standing around like a moron. Get those dresses out and ready. Shake them out. Have the next one ready as soon as Finn finishes.”
To Finn he said, “We need to be done by two. And we’ll need witnesses. Sierra and I are getting married. Have her—” he jerked his head toward Strong “—call Izzy.”
Finn stared, poleaxed, first at Dominic, then at Sierra. “You’re going to marry him?” He sounded as disbelieving as Sierra felt.
But there were some things Finn didn’t know about. Like the chemistry that had been bubbling between her and Dominic for months. Like the night after Mariah and Rhys’s wedding. Like the most sizzling sex she’d ever experienced. Like the fact that she hadn’t been able to forget the man she’d shared it with even though she knew she should, even though she’d tried. Like Frankie.
Especially Frankie.
“I’m going to marry him, yes.” She nodded her head.
If Finn considered arguing, a long look into her eyes apparently made him decide not to. “Right,” he said. “Two it is.”
“We can’t,” Ballou protested.
“No way,” cried the models.
At five of two they were done.
“Let’s go.” Dominic was tapping his foot as she packed up the tackle box in which she carried her gear. Then she grabbed her jacket, stuffed her arms in it, and picked up the tackle box, hugging it against her chest.
“Where are you going with that?” Dominic demanded.
“It goes where I go,” Sierra said stubbornly. She looked down at his briefcase. “Like yours.”
He sighed mightily. “Fine. Come on.”
“What about a license?” she asked as he spirited her down the elevator.
“We’ll get one.”
“What about a waiting period?” She was sure there must be one.
“Normally twenty-four hours,” Dominic said. “I can get us an exception.” He was dragging her out the door, through the rain, and into the hired car waiting at the curb.
“This is insane, you know that, don’t you?” she muttered, scrambling in ahead of him. The windows were steamed. She remembered other windows…
“Yes.” Dominic climbed in beside her. He was so close she could feel the heat from his body, remembered how very hot that body could be…
“You’ll regret it tomorrow,” she said with an edge of desperation to her voice.
“Very likely.” He banged the door shut behind him.
“I’ll regret it tomorrow.” She clutched the tackle box like it was a life preserver in a storm-swept sea.
“Without a doubt.” Then he turned to face her squarely, and she saw a wild, reckless look in Dominic Wolfe’s normally cool blue eyes. Hot ice. That was what it made her think of. It was a look Sierra remembered seeing only once before—on the wildest, craziest night of her life.
“So you have to decide—are you in or not?”
For three months she’d tried to forget that night. She hadn’t forgotten.
From the glitter in his eyes, she knew Dominic hadn’t, either.
Marrying Dominic was insane.
She would regret it. So would he.
They had nothing but sex between them. Primal attraction. Animal hunger. Lust. A four-letter word that started with L, but hardly the right one on which to base a marriage. But what was the use of being a gambler if you never threw the dice.
They went to the bank.
He got her a check. Made them print it out, spelled out her name. “Sierra Kelly Wolfe,” he said, “because you will be when you cash it.” And he thrust it into her hand.
He didn’t ask what she was going to do with it. He didn’t seem to even care. “Satisfied?” he asked as she stared at it, counting the zeroes.
Sierra, trying not to gape, nodded dumbly. “Yes.”
“Good.” He steered her out of the bank and bundled her back into the car. “City hall,” he told the driver.
Sierra hadn’t been to city hall since she’d applied for her cosmetology license. She was amazed to find they got their marriage license in the same room. She didn’t mention this amazing bit of news to Dominic. He wasn’t listening.
He was arranging their wedding.
He gave the clerk information. Then it was her turn. She gave the answers by rote, filled in the forms, signed where she was told. If she’d doubted his ability to arrange an exception to the waiting period, she didn’t doubt for long.
He called a friend, who called a friend. In a matter of minutes it was arranged that someone called Judge Willis would perform the ceremony in his chambers.
“Almost there,” Dominic said, and taking her arm once more, he hauled her toward the door. “I’ll call Finn. Tell him and Izzy where to meet us.”
“You don’t want to call Rhys?”
Dominic had been best man at Rhys and Mariah’s wedding. Sierra had been Mariah’s maid of honor.
In the act of opening the door, Dominic stopped and arched a brow. “Do you want to call Mariah?”
Never in a million years! Mariah was sane and sensible. She would throw herself in front of a speeding train