Winter Blockbuster 2012 (30 page)

At least, that way, she wouldn’t be held accountable for what happened next.?… That way she could blame him for whatever the outcome was.

And maybe the disturbing little niggle of doubt that had taken hold would’ve evaporated in a puff of smoke.?…

They caught the lawyer closing up his offices.

The slight, dark-suited man started to object, but one glance at Rakin’s determined face convinced him to welcome
them instead. A raised hand stayed the last-remaining paralegal who was about to slip out a side door.

With the recent negotiations with Eli so fresh in her mind, it didn’t take Laurel long to explain what she needed. Rakin took even less time to get his requirements across. It reinforced what Laurel was starting to realize—under the handsome, charming facade lurked a tough negotiator.

A tiger, rather than a pussycat. With a tiger’s feral instincts. Something she would do well to remember.

“You need to be aware that a prenuptial agreement entered so near in time to a wedding date can be held to be void for duress,” the lawyer told them once they were seated around a conference table with plush, padded chairs in the privacy of his offices.

It was hardly the time for Laurel to confess that Rakin had proposed a temporary marriage—a mad adventure for her with some fringe benefits for her family’s business thrown in—and a sane solution to Rakin’s problems.

Laurel got the feeling that if the lawyer knew about the reasons for their marriage he’d consider them both a little mad—and advise them they were headed for trouble.

“Do you want to wait?” Rakin’s murmur, loud enough for her ears only, broke into her speculative thoughts. She turned her head and looked into eyes that mesmerized her.

“Wait?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Take some more time to think it through.” He gave her a tender smile that probably convinced the lawyer seated across the polished conference table that this was a love match.

Laurel almost grinned back. The misgivings that had settled over her began to lift. In their place, recklessness danced a wild waltz through her. She’d made her decision—she was ready for the adventure of a lifetime.

She was done being careful.

“No need to wait.” Who was this stranger who had taken up possession inside her skin? With a defiant toss of her head, she spoke directly to the lawyer, “No one’s forcing me to do anything I don’t want.”

“Laurel wants to make sure we both understand exactly where we stand—especially given that we both have family businesses to consider,” said Rakin.

“Very wise.” The lawyer pulled his yellow legal pad closer and uncapped his pen. “It may not seem like a very romantic thing to do, but it certainly shows you both agree on many basic things—very important for building the foundations of a lasting marriage.”

When the lawyer suggested that each of them might want their own counsel, Laurel waved his concerns away. She’d been through all that once already with Eli. She knew what would be said, the cautions, the ifs and the buts that she’d considered so carefully the last time round. She knew the pitfalls, what safeguards were required.

It didn’t take him long to make a note of what those concerns were. Or for the paralegal to reduce the terms to a draft both she and Rakin perused. Once the agreement was executed and the lawyer had arranged where to send the bill, the meeting was over.

“I wish you the long and happy marriage I am sure you will enjoy.”

Laurel decided to leave their adviser with his illusions. Clearly, he’d concluded this was a love match. A meeting of true minds. And who was she to disabuse him of that romantic notion?

Entering the hotel suite a short while later, Laurel kicked off her shoes and sank into the welcoming comfort of a plush
L-shaped sofa with a breathy laugh. “Well, I’m glad that’s done.”

“Soon you will be Mrs. Abdellah.”

Rakin extracted a bottle of champagne from the depths of the bar fridge.

“I’ll help myself to a cola in a little while,” Laurel said quickly. “Otherwise you might railroad me into more propositions.”

He gave her a wry smile. “You’re never going to let me live that down.”

“Never is a long time.” Lazily, she stretched her arms above her head. “I should take a shower.”

“Relax for a few moments, there’s still plenty of time to get dressed.”

Dressed?
Laurel gulped as her thoughts homed in on one overwhelmingly feminine worry. A dress. A wedding dress. She didn’t have a dress. What was she to wear? With dismay she thought about the strapless black dress she’d worn to the casino last night. Black wouldn’t do for a wedding. Even if it wasn’t a marriage for love—there should still be some element of romance about the occasion.

“I don’t have anything remotely suitable for a wedding,” she confessed as Rakin closed the door of the bar fridge.

“Have no fear.” He gave her a smug smile. “It’s all been taken care of.”

“All been taken care of?” Laurel echoed.

At his look at satisfaction, it fell into place.?… Rakin had already bought her a wedding dress.

He’d clearly thought of everything—Kara would’ve been impressed.

The doubt devils returned. What if the gown didn’t fit? Or, worse, what if she hated the design he’d chosen? How
was she supposed to tell him that when he’d clearly been thinking of her?

If only Kara were here to help…

An image of the dress Kara had picked out for the-wedding-that-had-never-happened flashed into her mind. The perfect dress. An elegant fitted white lace bodice with a full skirt. She’d had more fittings than she’d wanted to get the fit just right.

But Kara wasn’t here.

Besides the last dress Kara had picked out had suited the old Laurel. Perfectly. The Laurel who did exactly as everyone expected. Not the woman with an unquenchable thirst for adventure that she’d become.

Rakin had called her a rebel.

Suddenly she found herself looking forward to seeing what Rakin had chosen. Laurel found her lips creeping up into a smile as he settled on the sofa beside her. “You’ve bought me a wedding dress, haven’t you?”

“Not quite.”

Before Laurel could question what that meant his cell phone buzzed. Rakin reached for it. After a brief exchange, he killed the call. “Macy and her assistant have arrived.”

“Macy?”

“She’s a shopping consultant who came highly recommended, and she’s picked out a few dresses you might like. But you’ll need to make the final choice.”

Laurel suppressed the ridiculous thrill of pleasure that gave her. He’d left the final decision down to her. For too many years she’d allowed other people to make decisions for her.

Rakin wasn’t doing that.

A buzz signaling the arrival of the private elevator sounded, and seconds later the doors slid open. Macy turned out to be a tall, angular brunette with sharp eyes, and she
was followed by a shorter woman who Laurel assumed must be her assistant. A bellhop brought up the rear, wheeling in a cart of boxes emblazoned with designer names.

“The wedding is tonight, right?” Macy radiated efficiency.

“Um… maybe,” said Laurel thinking about how long all the details for her wedding to Eli had taken to arrange. “But I’m not sure everything can be done in such a short time.”

“No maybe about it,” Rakin corrected. “Our wedding will definitely take place tonight—I will make sure of that.” His wicked grin caused Laurel’s heart unexpectedly to contract.

“Then we don’t have any time to waste.” Macy’s clipped words broke the spell. “Katie, let’s get those dresses out of the boxes.” The assistant sprang to action and a swathe of fabric emerged in a shower of falling petals.

Laurel’s breath caught. “Oh, my!”

“There are some things I need to take of.” Rakin crossed the floor to tip the bellhop for his help, then made his way back to Laurel. “If you’ll excuse me.”

As he came closer Laurel found that her pulse had started to race. There was a glint in Rakin’s dark eyes. Her heart slammed in her chest.

He was going to kiss her.

But when the kiss came, his lips brushed her cheek instead of her mouth. A perfunctory, too brief caress.

Then he was gone, the door to the suite’s elevator sliding shut behind him.

Laurel slowly let out a breath.

“By the time he comes back you will look like the woman of his dreams,” Macy said from behind her.

The woman of his dreams.

Being the woman of his dreams wasn’t what this marriage was about. But Laurel didn’t have the heart to smash the other woman’s illusions. Laurel responded absently to the bellhop’s
goodbye when he and the cart departed, and then only she, Macy and Katie remained in the spacious suite.

But there was no question of any awkward silence as Macy conjured dresses out of their boxes along with accessories. The personal shopper’s enthusiasm was contagious. Laurel glimpsed slips of lacy lingerie, gloves, stockings… and shoes with high, delicate heels.

But her gaze kept coming back to the dress Macy had unpacked first.

The fabric appeared to have been created from white rose petals. The design of the dress itself was deceptively simple, no flounces, no bows. It relied on the beauty of the fabric and the stark simplicity of the cut.

“Would you like to try it?” Macy was sizing her up with an air of an expert. “Your fiancé is a good judge of size—it should fit perfectly.”

Laurel tossed caution aside. “I’d love to.”

The dress slid over her head in a whisper of fine cloth. When Laurel opened her eyes she gasped… and blinked.

This was no conservative Southern lady that stared back at her from the mirrored cupboard doors. She looked sexy. So sexy. Yet still tasteful.

Laurel examined herself in the mirror.

“We’ll leave your hair loose at the back, but these bits can be swept up.” Macy was there, matching her actions to her words. “And perhaps a small spray of flowers here.”

Laurel thought her eyes looked huge in her face. And her cheekbones were thrown into prominence.

“Katie’s a magician with makeup. But not too much—you don’t need it. A touch of eye-shadow and some mascara on those incredible lashes—this will not take long.”

Laurel waited as the front strands of her hair were drawn up and pinned back.

“A ribbon, I think.” Deft fingers wove the silk through her auburn hair. “Your complexion is so creamy.”

By the time her hair had been arranged and her makeup applied in soft shades, Laurel felt like a siren. And when she finally heard Rakin’s voice outside the bedroom door, her heart jumped into her throat. She swung around… and gasped.

Her groom stood framed in the doorway.

He was wearing a tuxedo that made him appear dark and formidable. And, in sharp contrast to his masculinity, a white rose was pinned to his lapel.

And, he was inspecting her with equal interest.

Laurel didn’t even notice Macy and Katie file past him. All she was aware of was the touch of Rakin’s eyes. On the V of skin between her breasts. On her mouth. Before his gaze swept up to meet hers. There was heat… and something more.

Suddenly it hurt to breathe.

This was crazy!

She shouldn’t be feeling like this. Trembling. Like a teen on her first date.

She was a grown woman getting married to a man who’d turned her legs to water just by looking at her. This was supposed to be a business arrangement that would benefit both of them. It was a temporary fix. It certainly wasn’t about this… this shaky, trembling sensation that she couldn’t even name.

Whatever it was, it had made it hard to breathe. To hide what she was feeling, Laurel gave him her most charming smile.

He smiled back. She couldn’t help noticing that he had a beautiful mouth. The upper lip had been formed by a master hand; the bottom lip was full, promising passion—

Get a grip
.

Laurel searched for something appropriate to say. “You’ve
changed already,” she said finally. He’d showered, too. The smooth line of his jaw told her he’d shaved.

“You look exquisite.” His voice was deep.

“Thank you.” Laurel felt a blast of pleasure. All her life she’d been told she was beautiful: She’d been told in tones laden with envy, and she’d been told factually as if it were to be expected that Elizabeth Kincaid’s eldest daughter should follow in her mother’s footsteps. Yet never had she derived so much pleasure from hearing the words. Under the heat of his gaze, Rakin made her feel more like a woman than she’d ever felt in her life.

He was taking something from his pocket. “I brought you a gift.”

“A gift?”

“A keepsake—to remember our wedding by.”

He opened a slim, black velvet box to reveal the gold chain looped inside. As he hooked his index finger under the chain to extract it from the box, blue fire flashed in the light. A diamond pendant swung from the end of the chain, but Laurel lost sight of it as Rakin moved behind her. A moment later she felt the pendant drop into the valley between her breasts and then Rakin’s fingertips brushed her nape, as he closed the clasp. A sensation of delicious delight thrilled through her.

Standing behind her, thankfully, Rakin wouldn’t have noticed the electric surge of awareness. When his hands closed on her shoulders, Laurel stilled. But he was intent on steering her toward the mirror.

She breathed again.

“Do you like it?”

“It” was a flawless single diamond suspended in a simple gold setting to show off the glorious stone that nestled against her skin.

“I can’t accept this!”

“Why not?”

“It’s too…” Laurel groped around for the right word. Finally she settled on, “It’s too much.”

“You don’t like it.”

“No!” she sputtered. “I mean—of course I like it—it’s beautiful.”

“Then stop pouting and say a pretty thank you.”

“I don’t pout.” Feeling awkward and horridly ungracious, she gathered her composure. “Thank you, it’s truly lovely.” A discomforting thought struck Laurel. “I didn’t buy you a gift.”

“I never expected one.”

In the mirror, the reflection showed a sophisticated woman in a petal-strewn white dress with a dark, smiling man behind her. Her gaze homed in on where his hands still rested on her naked shoulders, the long fingers dark against her much paler skin. Laurel shivered. There was something so carnally sensual about the contrast of male and female, yin and yang, that it caused her latent awareness of him as an attractive man to rocket.