The Marine's E-Mail Order Bride (Heroes of Chance Creek Book 3) (6 page)

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Authors: Cora Seton

Tags: #romance, #Military, #Suspense

BOOK: The Marine's E-Mail Order Bride (Heroes of Chance Creek Book 3)
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“But… why are you there then?”

She closed her eyes. “Because I’m taking her place.”

Cheyenne’s reaction was just as shrill and outraged as Storm had expected and it was some minutes before she could get her to calm down. “Listen, it’s not as bad as you think.”

“How can it not be?”

“Zane only wants a temporary wife.” She squashed the pang of regret that coursed through her. No one had ever made her feel the way Zane did. No one had coaxed her to the edge of ecstasty three times in a single afternoon. He had to be the sexiest man she’d ever met. The most intriguing, too. She couldn’t believe she’d tossed caution to the wind and made love to him—again and again and again. “It doesn’t matter who he marries.”

“So he knows you’re not Kenna?”

Storm didn’t answer.

“Oh, Storm—you’re making a huge mistake,” Cheyenne said.

“Kenna’s paying me thirty grand.” She waited a beat. Just like she’d thought, the sum silenced her mother.

“For pretending to be her for six weeks?”

“That’s right. She’ll get her inheritance, Zane will get his. They’ll divorce in April with no one the wiser.”

She could almost see the cogs turn in her mother’s brain. “I guess if no one is being hurt by the deception…”

“No one’s going to get hurt.” Even as she said it she knew it for the lie it was. She was going to get hurt—bad. When the time came to split from Zane, she didn’t know what she’d do.

“Well… do what you think is best.”

Storm rolled her eyes at her mother’s attempt to remove herself from any blame. “I will.” She couldn’t keep the edge from her voice. She was doing this to save Cheyenne’s house, after all. Her mother could have sold it at any time and they’d all be far better off than they were right now. Zane wouldn’t think she was Kenna, for one thing.

Of course she’d never have met him, either.

“Keep me posted. And Storm—”

“Yes?”

“Don’t fall for this man, whoever he is. Remember it’s a fake, and remember you don’t belong in Montana. We need you back home with us when this is all over.”

“Got it, Mom. ‘Bye.” She hung up, unable to stay on the line any longer. She didn’t want to think about leaving Chance Creek. In six short weeks this would all be over and she’d take a plane back to California, leaving Zane behind forever. Of course Cheyenne wanted her to come home. She was a built in baby-sitter, wage-earner and housekeeper all in one. What about what she wanted, though? When would she ever stop being Cheyenne’s daughter or Kenna’s assistant and start her life as an independent woman? A woman free to marry a man like Zane?

She thought of the balance remaining on the cottage’s mortgage.

Maybe in another twenty years.

Chapter Four


“R
eady to meet
my family?” Zane asked when Storm answered the door the following morning at ten sharp. His time in the military had made him punctual among other things. Storm seemed to appreciate punctuality, too. She was dressed in a pretty, flowery skirt, a soft blouse and sandals, with a jacket over her arm and her handbag slung over her shoulder. He leaned down to steal his first kiss of the day, but frowned when Storm pulled back almost immediately. He took in the shadows under her eyes and his heart sank. Had she tossed and turned, waiting for sleep to come like he had? She looked almost—haunted. “Something wrong?”

“I… I don’t think I can do this.”

A wave of disappointment washed over him that had nothing to do with earning his inheritance and everything to do with wanting to be with Storm. She’d been the center of all his dreams last night—his waking as well as his sleeping fantasies. He’d counted the minutes until he could see her again. How could she think about calling anything off? “What do you mean, you can’t do this?”

“This is all wrong. We’re lying to everyone—lying to ourselves. It’s…” She trailed off, her gaze begging him to understand. He did understand, too. It was killing him to fool the people he loved the most, but it was Heloise who’d put him in this position. You couldn’t put a deadline on love, but that’s exactly what she’d done.

“Look,” he said, pushing past her into the room and shutting the door behind him. He dropped his hat on her bed and ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “I get it. Maybe yesterday we went too far, too fast.” He didn’t think that at all, though. He thought their time together had been perfect and the idea that she might regret being with him nearly slayed him. “We’ll back things off and take it slow, but we can’t put off you coming home with me.”

“I don’t think I can keep the story straight for six weeks.”

Zane cocked his head. Before he’d met Kenna, he wouldn’t have pegged her as a stickler for the truth. She’d come across so mercenary in her e-mails. It was the one thing that had assured him this could work. But yesterday he’d discovered everything he’d assumed about Kenna was wrong, down to her appearance. She barely looked like that old photograph she’d sent him. It was taken at a distance too far to reconcile individual features, but even the shape of her face seemed different.

“It’s just so long to pretend,” she went on. “I’ll be on pins and needles the whole time.”

“It’s the length of time you’re worried about? Not the marriage itself?” He felt a spurt of hope.

She nodded. “You signed the pre-nup already. I trust that you’ll follow the plan. I know you’re in this for your inheritance, not for some other nefarious reason.” She smiled lopsidedly and he could tell she was trying to bolster her own courage.

He laced his hands behind his neck, searching for a way to put her mind at ease. One thing he knew for sure—he didn’t want to lose her now. Not just because he needed her to secure his inheritance, but because she entranced him like no other woman he’d ever met. He needed the chance to get to know her better to see if there could be something more between them than a fake relationship—to see if she could renew his belief in love.

He wanted her for far more than a fling.

What Gunnery Sergeant Zane Hall wants, Gunnery Sergeant Zane Hall gets.

His mouth curved in memory of one of his men shouting that out in a victory toast after he’d secured a brand new, state of the art gaming system for their base in Kandahar when the old one kept breaking down.

Damn straight. He might not be in the military anymore, but he hadn’t changed. He’d locked on his target: Kenna North.

And he knew exactly how to secure her.

“We won’t wait six weeks to be married,” he said, taking her hands in his. “We’ll do it today—right now—but we won’t tell anyone. We’ll go back to the ranch afterwards as planned and do our best to stick out the remainder of the time until the real wedding. If at any point you think you can’t take it anymore, you’ll leave. We’ll make up an emergency and once you’re gone I’ll reveal to my family that it doesn’t matter—we already eloped.”

“Your aunt will accept that?”

“She’ll have to, but we’ll hope it doesn’t come to that, right?” he bluffed. In truth, Heloise would do no such thing, so he’d have to make damn sure Storm stayed. “Haven’t you always wanted to spend six weeks on a ranch with a handsome Marine?” He struck a body-builder’s pose, trying to lighten the mood.

Storm’s mouth twitched. “You got me there. What girl wouldn’t want a big country wedding to the stranger of her dreams?” She snapped her mouth shut, as if she’d said something she hadn’t meant to voice aloud. Faint color traced over her cheeks.

“The stranger of your dreams, huh?” Zane knew he should let that pass, but her wording made his spirits soar. Bingo. She wasn’t nearly as immune to wanting him as she was trying to make out. Their time together yesterday had hooked her as much as it did him.

“We’d better get going. Didn’t you say your family was waiting for you?”

“I’d better make a call first to see if we can see the Justice of the Peace on such short notice.” He was looking forward to teasing her some more, however.

Just as soon as they were married.

Storm fidgeted on
the hard plastic seat in the waiting room at the county court building. She wasn’t sure how Zane had pulled it off, but with only a couple of phone calls he’d managed to connect with someone he’d known a long time ago and asked his help in securing an appointment for a civil marriage. Apparently they’d lucked out; a local judge was presiding over weddings today and he had room in his calendar for another appointment. Now they waited in a small antechamber as couples disappeared into a larger room and reappeared holding hands and smiling at each other. Storm wondered what all their stories were. She wondered if anyone else could possibly be as nervous as she was. She was marrying the cowboy. Kenna’s cowboy. In Kenna’s name. This all had to be a huge mistake, but somehow she couldn’t stop what was happening. She didn’t want to.

Zane had taken her hand when they sat down, and she tried to draw comfort from his strong, calloused fingers, but she was failing miserably. As the minutes ticked by she was beginning to think she might faint. All her life she’d been so law abiding. So responsible.

What was she doing?

Just when she couldn’t stand it anymore—when she opened her mouth to call everything off—the receptionist spoke up.

“Zane Hall?” The woman looked over her bifocals at them. “You’re up next.” She pointed at the double doors to the right of her utilitarian desk.

“Ready?” Zane stood up and tugged Storm to her feet. The butterflies in her stomach picked up speed. No, she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t going to do this. She couldn’t marry a stranger and pledge her life to him forever. She couldn’t—

Zane squeezed her hand and smiled down at her. “Come on. What do you say we go get hitched?” The gleam in his eyes provoked an answering throb deep down inside of her and her breath faltered. There was something strong and steely behind the joke, as if he meant more than his teasing words might let on. Was he saying he wanted something other than a fake marriage?

There wasn’t time to figure it out.

As Zane led her into the next room, she didn’t pull away, though. She couldn’t if she’d tried. She wanted what that look of his promised. She wanted everything and anything the cowboy had to give her. There was no way she’d walk out on the ceremony now and give up what little time she had with Zane. She knew it was all temporary. She wouldn’t fool herself by pretending that this marriage was real.

But she wished it was. God, how she wished it.

What would it be like to pledge her love to a man like Zane? To say her vows and mean them? She shivered as she remembered the way they’d been together the previous day, and desire swept through her. It would be heaven to be wed to Zane. As insane as it was to think she knew this man, or could predict what a life with him would be like, instinct told her she was right where she belonged, walking arm in arm with Zane toward the judge who would preside over their wedding. They may have put the cart before the horse—the wedding before they fell in love—but that didn’t mean a thing.

Storm sighed as they walked side by side into the large, plain room where a man in black robes bent over a desk and a middle aged woman with graying hair watched them approach. She must be losing her mind. Romantic nonsense, that’s all this was. She’d watched too many movies. Read too many fairy tales. There’d be no happily ever after with Zane. She wasn’t even marrying him under her real name.

The man looked up. “Are you my next victims?”

“That’s right.” Zane shook his hand. “Zane Hall. This is Kenna North.”

Cold, hard shame pierced through her. How could she daydream about marrying Zane for real when she had lied to him right from the outset? How would he react if he knew she wasn’t even Kenna—that Kenna couldn’t bother to stop climbing mountains long enough to marry him in person and had sent a proxy in her place?

Zane would be furious, she was sure of that.

“Marriage license?”

Zane handed it over as Storm began to tremble with the enormity of what she was doing. It wasn’t just Zane’s anger she had to fear if this was a criminal act, marrying under a false name. The judge made a notation on a piece of paper. “Identification?”

Storm fumbled to get the catch on her bag open, her fingers slick with sweat, and for a minute she thought she’d left the fake driver’s license behind in the motel room. Panicking, she opened her bag wider and let out the breath she’d been holding when her hand closed around it. Why was she so relieved, she wondered as the judge copied her information onto his paperwork? Was it because she hadn’t been exposed as a liar? Or because her marriage to Zane—as false as it was—would go on?

When the Judge handed her license back, she shoved it far down in her bag saying a prayer of thanks that she wasn’t being hauled off to jail—yet. Zane tugged her hand until she looked up at him. He leaned in close. “I agree with you,” he said in a low voice.

“About what?” she whispered back. Had he read her mind? Did he think she was a criminal?

“I only want to do this once.”

Another chill tingled down her spine, but this was altogether different from the guilty emotions that had almost overwhelmed her. “Only want to do what once?”

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