‘I am. Get used to it.’ He looked across at Darrell. ‘Darrell, if there aren’t security guards to deal with this…’-he said the word this as if it referred to some lower form of pond scum-‘then could you help me evict him?’

‘With pleasure,’ Darrell told him.

‘I’ll help,’ Ruby added.

‘Hey, me, too,’ Peta put in. ‘He’s my cousin. I should get to slug him.’

‘Brides don’t slug,’ Marcus told her and she managed a smile. Albeit a shaky one.

‘Not?’

‘Definitely not.’

‘Rats.’

‘You have something else to do,’ Ruby reminded her. ‘Something important.’ Marcus’s assistant glanced at Charles as if he was of no significance at all. ‘If you’ve quite finished?’

‘I haven’t.’ Charles backed to the door as Darrell took a measured step towards him. ‘You’ll hear from my lawyers.’

‘I hope they have better party manners than you do,’ Marcus told him. Then he deliberately turned away from the man and faced Ruby. ‘What has my bride forgotten to do?’

My bride… It sounded strange. It was a declaration of intention-a declaration that, come what may, Charles’s lawyers couldn’t hurt her.

It was a gesture of pure protection and, as he made it, Marcus thought, whoa, where am I going? But he couldn’t unsay it. He couldn’t unfeel it.

He looked down into her face and, as Darrell slammed the door behind her obnoxious cousin, he could see that she was as confused as he was. He was offering protection, but to Peta protection seemed an unknown sensation. She’d fought her own battles, he thought, and somehow, he knew her battles had been just as hard as his own.

The knowledge intensified the sensation. It made him feel even more at sea. More…helpless?

This was an illusion, he told himself. The way he felt about her. The way he held her, pulling her in to his body. It was a façade put on to convince Charles that here was a real marriage.

But Charles had gone now. There was no one here they had to fool, yet Marcus was still holding her and there was no way he was releasing her. No way!

‘What’s she forgotten to do?’ Marcus asked again, and it was Ruby who pulled them all together, Ruby who collected herself. She looked to the official who was still standing in astonishment that the wedding could be so rudely interrupted. But this was a senior official who’d obviously overseen some very strange marriages in his time. He rose to the occasion as a good official should.

‘Can we continue?’ Ruby prodded, and the man stopped staring at the closed door and managed a smile.

‘Right. Where was I? Goodness me. I know. I now pronounce you man and wife.’ He took a deep breath and beamed at the pair of them, from Marcus to Peta and back again. The interruption might have been strange and unsettling, but standing before him were a couple whose body language said they belonged. Someone else may have tried to ruin this occasion but Henry Richard Waterhouse, officiating for the City of New York, was here to marry these people and marry them he would.

‘That’s it, folks,’ he said. He closed his book. ‘Except for the last bit. The best bit. My favourite part of the day. And here it comes.’ His beam widened. ‘You may now kiss the bride.’


No.

The word rose unbidden. No. But he didn’t say it. Somehow he managed to cut it off. Somehow…

Marcus stared down at Peta and, for heaven’s sake, he saw panic there. It was the same panic he felt himself.

They were staring at each other, stunned, as if neither could believe it had come to this. That this wild planning had suddenly landed them in this place, where there was nothing to do but for Marcus to lift his hand, to tilt her chin, for his eyes to lock with hers.

And for his mouth to lower on to hers.

He didn’t want to do it. He didn’t…

He lied. He wanted to do it more than anything in the world.

And it was only a kiss, he told himself fiercely. It meant no more than their signatures on a piece of paper.

It was only a kiss.

But then his lips touched hers and it was much, much more.

His world changed, right there.

It was as if some sort of short circuit had shut down his brain. Cool, calm Marcus Benson who did nothing without thinking it out, whose world was a series of well planned, carefully orchestrated moves, who never let himself be shifted outside his zone of complete control…

Suddenly he was no longer in control. No. He hadn’t been in control since he’d met her, he thought desperately, but he was much more out of control now. His lips met his bride’s, and the electricity surging between them felt as if it could slam him into the far wall.

But only if she came, too, he thought, stunned, because there was no way he was letting her go.

He’d put his hands on her waist to draw her close to him-just a little-not to pull him hard in against her. But the warmth of her body was suddenly a fierce, molten link. The fire that surged in that link between them was unbelievable. His hands felt as though they belonged exactly where they were. They were forged into position. As if they’d found their home.

And her mouth… His mouth…

She tasted…

She tasted of Peta, he thought, with the tiny part of his brain that was left available to do any analysis at all. She tasted of nothing he had ever experienced before. She was so soft and yielding, and yet there was such strength.

He could taste the woman of her. He could feel the part of her that yielded to him and yet did not. That found her home in him and yet… And yet… And yet stayed her own sweet self.

She was curving in to him and he knew she was as bewildered as he was at this feeling. This feeling he could hardly begin to analyse. He had nothing to compare it to.

Peta…

It was too much. He was past thinking. He was oblivious to the small group of onlookers-to Ruby and Darrell and the city official, all looking on with bemusement. All he knew was how her lips tasted. How his heart lurched.

How the barren wasteland of his heart suddenly seemed a far-off memory.

Peta…

‘I’m sure you’ll be very, very happy.’

The official’s words broke in to the moment. Somehow. The man was beaming and waiting to grip Marcus’s hand, to claim the privilege of kissing the bride, of moving on to the next ceremony…

He didn’t hurry them. But this kiss had lasted a long time.

Marcus moved back. A little. Not much. His hands remained on Peta’s waist. He stared at her, dazed. She gazed back and his confusion was mirrored in her eyes.

‘I didn’t…’

‘I’m sorry…’ They spoke over each other and the moment somehow broke.

‘There’s no need to apologise to each other.’ The official was still beaming, his hand out to take Marcus’s and there was nothing for it but to release Peta. To let the moment go. ‘A man need never apologise for kissing his wife, and vice versa, and you have a lifetime ahead to do just that.’ He gripped Marcus’s hand and shook while Marcus fought desperately for normality. For sanity. Then the official turned and kissed Peta, breaking the contact even more. Giving Marcus room.

Letting reality in.

Then, the formalities over, the official stepped back and smiled some more. ‘There. All done. I’m sorry for the interruption to the ceremony but it doesn’t seem to have spoiled the moment. Congratulations.’ He glanced at his watch-surreptitiously, but it was a message for all that. ‘There’s some papers for you both to sign in the outer office, but that’s it. Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Benson. Welcome to your new life.’


The world took over. Of course it did.

Over the next hour Marcus moved on automatic pilot. He signed the register. He accepted congratulations. He faced the press. He shielded his bride as best he could and he smiled. He ate a meal-heaven knew what it was-in the restaurant Ruby had booked to celebrate the occasion. He listened to Darrell’s shy speech and he smiled.

He smiled.

By his side, Peta smiled as well, and her smile seemed just as forced as his.

Finally the formalities were over. ‘Darrell and I will take a cab home,’ Ruby told her boss. She reached into her handbag and hauled out a pouch. ‘These are your air tickets, your passport and all the documentation you’ll need for the next few weeks. Your plane leaves tomorrow morning at nine a.m.’

‘Mine goes tomorrow night.’ Peta had chatted during the meal but she’d sounded strained and the strain was still evident in her voice.

‘We took the liberty of changing your flights,’ Ruby told her. ‘You had a small taste of publicity today. With the short notice, the press contingent was limited. But Marcus’s wedding is going to hit the headlines tomorrow morning, and you’ll hardly want to be around for the fuss. The society tabloids have been trying to matchmake for Marcus since he made his first million.’

‘And now he’s hooked.’ Darrell’s smile matched Ruby’s. ‘That’s great.’

But it wasn’t great. ‘I didn’t hook anyone.’ Peta glowered. ‘He climbed on the line all by himself.’

‘And he can climb off again in two weeks,’ Ruby told her. She gathered her handbag and looked to Darrell. ‘Shall we leave these two-fishermen?-together?’

‘Sounds good to me.’ Darrell grinned. He took Marcus’s hand and shook-hard-and then he grasped Peta’s hands and pulled her in for a kiss to both cheeks.

‘You keep wiggling that hook,’ he said gently. ‘Marcus is the best mate in the world and he needs you more than he knows. So wiggle until he’s firmly caught. All the love in the world to you both.’


Then they were alone. The restaurant had alcoves that were separate rooms, giving absolute privacy. Ruby and Darrell had disappeared and Marcus was left with his bride.

The sensation was…unbelievable.

If only she wasn’t so lovely, he thought, a little bit desperately. Or a lot desperately. If only she wasn’t so vulnerable. So helpless. So-