The Wedding Wager (9 page)

Megan tilted her head to one side. “Okay. You can be impressed by that, because frankly, so was I.” She smiled. “I just didn’t want to grab one of those credit cards on campus and end up in debt before I graduated.”

“Ah, yes. You abhor debt. That’s why you’re here.” His tone was pleasant with a touch of tease.

“Well, I must say, so far this job has great benefits.” She beamed with delight at her new phone.

Kevin pulled a soft drink from the mini fridge as Jeffrey maneuvered through traffic. He offered one to Megan and she accepted.

“By the way,” said Kevin, “I think it would be wise if we stopped referring to this as your job. You don’t want to slip up when you’re around my family. And of course, taking my paranoia into account, we don’t want any eavesdroppers to hear you refer to me as your employer. Okay?”

Megan nodded agreeably. “Okay. Good idea.” She made her excited-little-girl face again. “
Love
has its benefits.” She giggled.

Kevin smiled. Ever since the prenup was signed, Megan had begun to relax, and as she relaxed, her expressions became less guarded. He found her happy face extremely attractive, and he found himself wondering what he could do next to ensure that he would see it again soon.

“It’s almost three o’clock. Would you like to pick a restaurant?”

“Oh! I know it’s totally touristy, but I never got to go before my accident. Could we spend a little time at the Pike Place Market? If we’re leaving tomorrow, who knows when I’ll get back, and the only thing I’ve seen in Seattle is the inside of a hospital. I’m sure we can find a snack there.”

Kevin grinned. “Why not?” He pressed the switch to talk to Jeffrey. “Megan would like to see the Pike Street Market,” he said. “Would you drop us off at 1st and Pike?”

As they emerged from the limo, Kevin instructed Jeffrey to return in two hours. “We’ll be ready for a quiet ride by then,” he added to Megan. “And the Market closes at five on Sundays.”

“Oh, I’m so excited!”

Kevin couldn’t help but admire the handsome picture their reflections offered in passing shop windows. His six-foot-four frame usually meant he stood out from a crowd, but with Megan on his arm, the crowd parted for them. Her face was alight with touristy joy, and he found himself seeing the Market through her eyes and experiencing it as if for the first time.

“Use your phone and take some pictures,” said Kevin.

“That’s a great idea,” said Megan. She held the phone up, pressed the camera app, and stared with a frown at the screen. “What do I press to take a picture?”

Kevin angled to stand behind her and gave instructions over her shoulder. “There, that’s it. Just press right there.”

She did so.

Kevin cleared his throat. “You just took a picture of your feet. It helps if you aim the camera at something not so easy to carry around with you.”

“Very funny,” said Megan. “At least I can say my feet were at Pike Place Market.”

“Try again.”

Megan clicked off a series of photos in a circle. Then she said, “Oh, we need someone to take a picture of us together.”

Kevin touched another spot on the screen and Megan was looking at her own face. She shrieked with delight.

“Here, you do it! My arms aren’t long enough.”

Kevin took the phone and held up up in front of them, centered their images and made sure to include the Public Market sign right over their heads.

“That’s perfect,” said Megan.

The aroma of fish and saltwater from Elliot Bay permeated everything. Before they moved on to the food vendors, Megan bought herself a couple of post cards and a plastic key ring shaped like a salmon.

“I need a tee shirt!” she cried as they rounded a corner into yet another gift shop. “The gaudier, the better.”

Kevin picked out a pink girl’s tee with Pike Place Market emblazoned across the front. “How’s this?’

“Perfect!” She sighed happily. “Okay, we can eat now. I have now officially been there, done that, and—”

Kevin joined her in the chorus, “—bought the tee shirt!”

They laughed together and Megan leaned into him and looked up into his eyes with genuine affection.

The moment was over too soon for Kevin. But he made a mental note of yet another expression of Megan’s that he wanted to experience again.

They were pulling into the hotel parking garage when he realized he’d forgotten to check out her hospital story.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MEGAN RUSHED AHEAD
of Kevin into the suite and down the hall to her room.

“Be back soon!”

She didn’t want to be any more specific than that. Fiancée or not, sometimes a girl just needed privacy.

A few minutes later, she collapsed on her bed and let the day’s events do reruns through her mind. The iPhone was a delight. She picked it up and reviewed the photos they had taken. When she got to the one that Kevin had taken of the two of them, her breath caught in her throat.

Megan’s first thought was, what a lovely couple. Then in an instant, she realized that she was part of that couple and Kevin was devastatingly handsome! Was it because he was so photogenic? Or was it because he seemed to be having as good a time as she was at the Market? His smile lit up the little screen, dimmed only by her own. They really did look like a couple in love.

Odd that a man of his wealth and standing did not zip around the country on a private plane. She could understand that he didn’t want to use his father’s jet, but he was a big boy. He could buy his own. Couldn’t he?

Megan sat up on the edge of the bed. Maybe she should ask him about that. And there was another matter that needed addressing. She had purchased clothes, but had no luggage to pack them in. She’d better tell him soon, because he expected them to leave in the morning.

She left her room quietly, her footfalls muffled by the thick carpet and headed toward the great room. The sound of Kevin’s voice raised in anger gave her pause, and she stopped to listen from the hallway.

“I’m doing the best I can,” he grouched. “And you need to stop calling me. You know what the lawyers will make of that. I’m handling it!”

He snapped the phone shut.

Jeffrey said, “She’s just trying to help.”

“I know, but talking to her makes me crazy. Things were humming along so smoothly. Then she calls, and everything falls apart.”

“Oh, really? You were living in a one-room apartment, barely keeping body and soul together. That’s what you call humming along? I call it running away from reality. Holing up. Hiding out.”

“Big words from a man whose paychecks I sign.”

“Very funny. And as for getting
her
out of your life, we both know that’s not why you ran.
She
was never your real problem.”

Megan turned silently in the hall and tip-toed back to her room. Once inside, she closed the door and leaned against it. Her heart was thumping against her breast bone.

“I knew it,” she whispered, “I just knew it! Too good to be true. He’s trying to trick me into something. Why would he be living in a one-room apartment if he were really rich?” She began to pace. “But he really is rich! That banker let him in on a Sunday. And he pulled forty thousand dollars of pocket money out of his safe deposit box! Maybe he’s just eccentric. A wealthy eccentric would have a hide-away. Oh, mama, what have I gotten into? And I already signed that darn document.” She chewed her knuckles. “Well, I’ll just have to confront him. Tell him I want out.”

She groaned.

“But I want him to pay my medical bills! He signed, too, darn it. If I’m bound by that document, so is he. And if I don’t marry him, he won’t have to keep his end of the bargain.” She took a deep breath and let it out.

Then she thought of something else. “He was talking about another woman! So there must be some crazy ex out there waiting to claw my eyes out.”

She paced some more. But no amount of pacing solved her luggage problem. She decided she would have to go out there and ask her questions and get it over with. Once more, with great resolve, she exited her room.

She didn’t take a chance on overhearing any more bad news. She cleared her throat loudly as she approached the great room, and called out, “Excuse me!”

Kevin turned from his spot at the wall of windows.

“Oh, hi, Megan. Did you get enough to eat at the Market? I was thinking of ordering a snack from room service.”

Afraid she would lose her momentum, Megan blurted out what was on her mind. “I overheard you talking to Jeffrey. I came out to ask if you have suitcases I can use to pack my things in. And I heard you two talking. Was I right? Do you have some crazy ex-girlfriend stalking you and lying in wait for me somewhere?”

Kevin’s look of puzzlement graduated to bewilderment. “Ex-girlfriend? No. I don’t have a clue what you’re—”

She cut him off short. “Jeffrey said you’re running away from a woman.”

“Oh,” said Kevin. “Oh, that. No, no, that was not an ex-girlfriend. I was on the phone talking to my mother. Jeffrey said I was running away from my
mother
.”

Megan deflated. “Your mother?”

Kevin nodded. “She’s a tad possessive. You need suitcases? There are three for you behind the bar. I’m getting ready to call room service. Last chance for a snack.” He gave her a boyish look.

Megan had to smile. She wished he looked like that all the time, like that happy man she’d played tourist with. “Oh, what the heck. Onion rings and chocolate ice cream, please.”

Kevin grinned. “Excellent.”

Megan looked around. “Jeffrey went to bed already?”

“No. He’s running an errand. Did you have fun today?”

Megan relaxed at the thought of their excursion. “I had a ball. When we’re all done with things at the ranch, can we come back and play tourist again?”

“Sure,” said Kevin. “Even if I can’t, you certainly can. Once we get through the end of the month, you can do all the tourism you want.”

Megan felt unaccountably disappointed. “Oh, that’s right. I thought you might need me to hang around for a while as your wife.”

Kevin thought about that for a moment. “You know, you’re right. I’m really not sure exactly how close we’ll need to stay to each other as things play out. Speaking of which, when my mother called, she gave me a list of questions for you. She needs to know these things as soon as possible. She’s working on the wedding arrangements.” He handed Megan a list. “I’m going to call room service.” He moved to the far end of the room.

Megan sat down and read the list. At the top, Kevin had doodled diamonds and other shapes around his mother’s name. Then he’d jotted separate items in block letters. Dress size. Height. Inches from waist to floor. Body measurements. Hair and eye color. Ring size. Shoe size. Favorite flower. Favorite color.

His mother was actually taking Megan’s tastes into account! She must be in favor of this whole marriage idea. Megan took a pen from the coffee table and began answering the questions.

“I need a tape measure to do this,” she said.

“Check the drawers behind the bar. The hotel has thought of everything else. Why not a tape measure?”

Megan shrugged and checked the drawers. “Hey, you’re right! There’s a sewing kit in here.”

“Told you so.”

Megan unrolled the tape measure and placed one end at her waist. Then she dropped the other end to the floor. The kinks in the tape refused to straighten. She smoothed it with her fingers and bent to the floor. As she bent to read it, her measurement from waist to floor got shorter and shorter.

“I think you need to help me with this one.”

Kevin dropped ice cubes in a glass, then came to her aid. He dropped to one knee and straightened the tape measure for her.

“There you go. Forty-four inches from waist to floor.”

“Thanks. I’ll do the rest.” She looked down at him. Having him on his knees in front of her stirred feelings deep inside. She cleared her throat and stepped away. “It looks like your mother is going to have a dress made for me.”

Kevin stood up. “She said you wouldn’t have time or access to the proper stores once you reach the ranch. She’ll have a dress sent from New York.”

“I hope I get to try it on.”

Kevin returned to the bar and filled his glass with water. The ice cubes tinkled as he lifted it and drank.

“Don’t worry. Knowing my mother, she’ll bring her personal seamstress along to make any adjustments you need.”

Megan’s eyes widened. “Personal seamstress?”

Kevin didn’t seem to think having a personal seamstress was a big deal. “She doesn’t like to depend on local availability when she’s meeting a deadline.”

“Oh, of course not,” said Megan, waving that idea aside with a flick of her wrist. She turned away so he couldn’t see her eyes roll with disbelief. “I’d better finish this.”