Sensual Games (Novak Springs #3) (15 page)

A glaring bright light blinded her—even though her eyelids were closed. It burned…so much. Why’d she leave the curtains open in her room? Maybe if she closed out the sun’s potent glow she’d be able to get some more sleep. Her head ached. Pain stabbed every inch of her skull. She groaned and held her head tightly in her hands. Emma refused to open her eyes and welcome the daylight to intensify her pain. The little of it bleeding through her eyelids was making it all worse—she must make it disappear. The deep piercing throb behind her eyes was unbearable. She had to do something… Emma rolled over and landed on a solid mass of hard muscle.

Naked hard muscle. A man’s chest to be more precise.

Emma’s eyes fluttered open into tiny slits. A blurry male face floated in front of her. She blinked several times to clear away the dry grit and attempted to focus on him. Who was she in bed with? More importantly—why was she in bed with him?

“Turn the light off, Emma…” He muttered as he turned onto his side. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Emma shot up, all the pain in her head disappearing as she realized who was lying next to her, his voice one she’d never forget because it still haunted her dreams. She pulled the sheets up tight against her. Oh God. She was naked too. What had she done last night? The whiskey…the game…it all started to come back. Did they talk to an Elvis impersonator last night? No, it must have been a wild, crazy alcohol-induced dream. This was why she didn’t drink much. Liquor did crazy things to her.

Time to deal with the immediate situation. Emma formed a fist and punched Colt in the shoulder. “Wake up, jerkface. We need to fly to Dallas.” The throbbing in her head intensified. Never again. Colt wouldn’t talk her into something as asinine as drinking and playing poker again.

Colt groaned and rubbed his shoulder. “You really need to quit punching me.”

“Why when it’s so much fun.”
What had they done last night?
Her lack of clothing was not a good sign. “Seriously start moving. Don’t make me hit you again.”

Emma rolled out of bed pulling the sheet with her. Where had her clothes gone? She searched the room and found Colt’s shirt lying near the bed. Her clothes though—were nowhere. Emma dropped the sheet and pulled his shirt over her head. At least it was big enough to cover her completely. She smoothed it down to make sure it didn’t leave any of her exposed. Her hand caught the end, snagging a string loose. Emma lifted her left hand…and froze. There was a ring—a bright princess cut diamond solitaire. It was familiar—so achingly memorable. It’d been her engagement ring. She’d thrown it at Colt when he cheated on her with Missy. Emma had never expected to see it again, let alone on her finger. But what terrified her was the matching wedding band that accompanied it.

Her voice wobbled as horror filled every inch of her. “Colt?” Her eyes never left the sight of the rings on her finger.

“Shut up, Emma. I need more sleep.”

“If you don’t get out of bed right now I’m going to make you regret it.” Emma stormed over to the bed and shook him. “Get up now, get up.” In full panic mode, she pulled his hands from under his head. There on his left hand a gold band gleamed in the sunlight.

“Okay, okay. I’m getting up.” He sat up and stretched. “Dallas—yeah, what time’s our flight?”

“Why am I wearing rings?”

Colt yawned. “Hmm? What?”

“Rings,” she shouted, pointing to her left hand and flailing as he stared at her. “Yours and mine.” She clenched her teeth together and grabbed his hand waving it in front of his face. “Why. Are. We. Wearing. Them?”

A knock rattled the door to their room. Emma’s head whipped around and she stared at it. Who was bothering them now? They had a situation—company wasn’t welcome.

“Are you two decent?” Paxton strolled in without waiting for them to answer, carrying a tray filled with food.

Emma’s stomach rolled at the smell of eggs and bacon. She couldn’t eat anything.

“How are the newlyweds this morning?”

“Come again?” Colt glanced down at his left hand again. His eyes filled with shock. “What are you talking about?”

“How soon we forget.” Paxton held his hand across his chest and sniffled. He wiped a fake tear from his eye. “It was so beautiful too.”

Colt growled and rubbed his hands across his face. “Explain,” he said, his eyes never leaving Paxton’s face.

“Well, you remember the card game?” Paxton asked.

Emma sat on the bed and stared at him. “Yes. Continue.”

“Well, after Emma downed those three glasses of whiskey, things got interesting.”

Emma snorted. She bet they did. Alcohol tended to make her do crazy stupid things. Somehow she’d topped all of her other escapades though—this had to be the debacle of the century. Emma stared at him. She knew the next words out of Paxton’s mouth were not going to be good. It was all pretty clear from the rings on her finger. They were in Vegas. There was only one logical conclusion, but she wasn’t ready to voice it. How could she have gotten herself in this situation?

Because Paxton implied—Emma gulped—she’d married Colt.

“I do remember that, but things get fuzzy after,” Colt agreed. “Fill in the blanks.”

“Who won the game?” Emma asked. She wanted to delay confirmation of her deepest concerns as long as possible.

“Tsk-tsk, don’t rush me by jumping to the ending. You’ll miss the best part.”

Emma groaned. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Colt folded his arms across his chest. “Quit stalling, Paxton. Lay it all on us.”

Colt was probably happy with this outcome. He’d been pushing for them to get back together. They couldn’t be more together than this. Emma had to fix it—

“Well, Emma won the first hand.” Paxton set the breakfast tray on the bed. “After that things got very entertaining. She got—let’s say cocky.”

“You’re saying I determined I’d win and went ahead full steam.”

Paxton grabbed a cheese danish from the tray and tore off a piece. He stuffed it into his mouth and chewed. It seemed to take him forever to continue. Emma was about to jump up and smack him—but lucky for him he started talking before the urge took root.

“Yes, that’s a way of looking at it, but it went all downhill for you after that.”

Emma dropped her head into her hands as she groaned. “What did I do?”

Paxton laughed and sat in a nearby chair and finished his pastry. He licked his fingers clean and then rested his elbows on his knees and formed a teepee with his hands. He tapped back and forth in front of his face as glee filled his eyes. “Where to begin—with the waitress you called a blonde bimbo or the third bottle of whiskey you ordered.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits. “That bitch came back?”

“Ah, I see you remember her. She was quite lovely and was only doing her job, but you didn’t quite see it that way.”

“That’s very entertaining, Paxton, but I don’t see how it’s relevant.” Colt picked up a piece of toast and took a bite. “Skip that part.”

“Why? Do you want to go looking for her later? Did you like her that much?” Emma’s hands rested on her hips as she stared at him. She turned her attention back to Paxton. “What did I do to the bimbo?”

“This was well after you two finished the first bottle of whiskey. You were half way through the second and you’d lost two hands. If Colt won the next round the game was over. When the waitress strolled in with the third bottle you blew up.”

Emma could only imagine what set her off. It was best to rip off the bandage and find out how bad it was. She took a deep breath. “Why?”

“You didn’t like how she rubbed her tits in Colt’s face.” Paxton laughed. “The look on your face—priceless. I’ve never seen a woman leap forward so fast in my life. You’re amazing.”

Emma groaned. “Do I have something to worry about?”

“No, Colt stopped you from punching her.”

“Oh good.” That’s something at least. Even if the hussy deserved it. She didn’t need any legal ramifications. “So did I win the next hand?”

“No.”

“So the game was over after that?” Colt asked. “I won?”

“Not exactly,” Paxton paused, “Emma suggested you up the stakes, and you opened your third bottle of whiskey.”

Three bottles of whiskey? No wonder pain shot through her head like a million needles being pounded into it at a thousand different angles. What had she been thinking? That answer was easy—she wasn’t. If she had been she’d have left before disaster struck. Time to ask what she played for.

“What stakes did I suggest?”

“First the good news—you never did finish that third bottle, but you did put a nice dent in it.” Paxton stopped and stared her in the eye. “The bad news—Emma suggested you continue on for three more hands. The first one to win two of the three would win. If you won, Colt would still leave for Dallas immediately, but if he won…”

“Yeah?” Colt asked and leaned back against the wall. “What would I get?”

“You’d marry him before you left.” He looked at Emma as he said this.

Colt’s mouth fell open as shock filled his eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No…” A full blown panic streamed through Emma’s veins. That wasn’t possible. She wouldn’t agree to something so outlandish. “Why would I agree to that?”

Paxton shrugged. “I don’t deign to understand the workings of the female mind—I’m not about to start with you.” He grinned. “I did volunteer to stand as a witness to the ceremony. The blonde bimbo agreed to be your maid of honor. She’s a nice woman. You should apologize for insulting her.”

What. The. Fuck.

“You’re joking.” This was insane—a comical piece of fiction made up to mess with her. “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you want. I couldn’t care less.” Paxton stood and started to leave. He stopped at the door and turned back to them. “But there’s proof if you want it.”

“Yes, give it to me.” Emma leaped off the bed and marched to his side. “Where is it?”

“Give me a minute while I go retrieve it. As the best man I took it as my sacred duty to preserve this momentous occasion for all of posterity—plus I knew you’d both have doubts considering your considerably inebriated state.”

Paxton left the room. Emma spun around and stared Colt in the eye. He didn’t seem as pleased as she thought he’d be. He looked—scared.

“Why aren’t you happy?”

“I didn’t want it to be like this between us. I wanted more—this will send you running again.” He frowned. “I want to be with you, always, but not if you don’t want it too.”

“Well it seems you won the game—so I owe you a courting period regardless.”

Bile rose in her throat. She pushed it back down. Emma wouldn’t lose the contents of her stomach too. Her life was a freaking mess. What else could go wrong?

“There’s one thing I don’t understand.”

“What’s that?” Colt asked.

Emma glanced at the rings gracing her left hand. The whole night didn’t add up—all of it was a nightmare. She wanted to wake up. Colt though, he could answer one question she had. “If you didn’t plan on this happening—how come I’m wearing the engagement ring you gave me?”

Colt stared at her for several seconds. The only sound was the ticking clock on the wall. It seemed to count down to her undoing.

“I carried it around with me—kind of like a good luck charm. I thought if I had it with me at all times it would be easier to put it back on your finger. It’d be a sign we should be together forever.”

Emma’s bark of laugher filled the room. The irony of the situation—it didn’t escape her. “Yeah, I can see how easy it was…”

“Not like this, Emma, you have to realize that. I’m as shocked as you are. Maybe Paxton is playing a practical joke on us.”

He rolled out of bed and pulled on his jeans. They hung loose on his hips. Emma licked her lips as she stared at his naked torso. One thing never changed—she still wanted him.

“Yeah, I could tell, doesn’t mean you don’t feel a little happy at these unforeseen circumstances.”

“No—it’s…”

“Here we are.” Paxton strolled back into the room. “I have your marriage license. Important legal document. What I think you really want to see is the wedding album.”

“Excuse me?” Emma asked. “There are pictures?”

She grabbed the album out of his hand and opened it. The horror—it hadn’t been a dream after all. They
had
seen an Elvis impersonator. He’d been the officiant at her wedding. The blonde bimbo was beaming next to her while Paxton stood next to Colt. The shocking thing—Emma looked so happy. She seemed to really want to marry him. This picture told a tale she didn’t remember…

One thing was clear—she’d married Colt. He was her husband. Emma had never been so terrified in her life. Her hands shook so bad she dropped the album. It hit the floor with a loud thud.

“Emma…” Colt reached for her, but she yanked away from his grasp.

Her gaze met Colt’s and she turned and ran from him. She locked herself in the bathroom and cried until she had no more tears left. This was not how her wedding day was supposed to go. Dallas was going to walk her down the aisle—she’d wear a dress of floating organza and ivory lace—but more importantly it was supposed to be the best day of her life. This was a monstrosity of all that was wrong with her life. Instead of a ceremony filled with happiness, she got a joke and an imperfect groom.