From the Author
"Wife?" I look down at the new ring on my left handand see a similar ring on him as he stalks toward me in all his gloriousnakedness. The water from his recent shower gives his ripped, tan body a sexysheen.
Our bed is disheveled in a way that only all night fuckingcan accomplish. Empty bottles of Dom Pérignon litter the high-end hotel roomI've unexpectedly woken up in. I've retrieved most of my clothes, but standholding one red high heel; the other is still lost somewhere.
"We appear to have had too much to drink lastnight," he says with a smirk on his handsome face, cobalt blue eyespenetrating. "I think we both got a bit carried away."
I pull my eyes off his body and focus them on his face,which doesn't help me as much as you might think, because this man is the mostgorgeous male specimen I've ever seen in my life, and I work with strippers.Well, okay, mostly I work with the women since I own a company that plansbachelor and bachelorette parties, and men are more likely to hire strippersthan women. But still, I've seen my share, and this man... I can't even...
With all the intelligence of my Ivy League business degreeapparently out to lunch, I repeat again, "Wife?"
He's still naked, by the way, as he moves closer to me andreaches for my left hand. Heat floods me as our skin makes contact. He caressesthe gold band on my left hand. "Wife."
His voice is husky and deep, and it sends shivers up myspine as my temporary, alcohol-induced amnesia fades, and a memory from thenight before makes a belated appearance at the party.
I remember him. He was to our right, at a table near thebar, smiling at me with too perfect teeth. My twin brother, Tate, ever thewomanizer, nudged me. "I've got my eye on the woman at that table,"he said, pointing to a perky blond who was nearly drooling over him. Not that Iblamed her. I mean, he's my brother, but I'm not blind. "So you should gofor this guy. He's clearly into you."
My best friend, Vi, grinned at me from across the bar, whereshe'd cozied up to a shy but cute guy that didn't stand a chance against hershapely curves, wild red hair and green eyes. We hadn't been out like this inso long; we'd all been too busy working, building our businesses. Tate workswith me at Hitched, and Vi, well... Vi has a unique niche market going in thedominatrix world.
When my brother left me at the bar to woo the panties offthe blonde, Mr. Sexy strode over in his suit and tie, exuding confidence, adark mop of hair offsetting eyes that were an unreal shade of blue. I couldtell I was about to have my panties wooed off me as well, and I didn't mind onebit.
"Is this seat taken?" he asked, pointing to whereTate had been sitting.
I smiled. "Not anymore. I think my brother has foundsomeone more exciting to entertain him."
"I find that hard to believe." He slid into thechair, his leg brushing against mine as he pulled in closer.
"Because you know me so well and can with confidencesay I'm the most entertaining person here?" I teased, sipping my cocktail.
"I'm good at reading people." He held out hishand, and I took it. "I'm Sebastian Donovan. It's a pleasure to meetyou." Instead of shaking my hand, he brought my knuckles to his mouth and,while maintaining eye contact with me, caressed my skin with his lips in afeathery light kiss.
"Kacie Michaels. Nice to meet you," I said, as Isilently gave my panties notice that they wouldn't be needed for long.
Other memories are still shadows pulling at my poundinghead, trying to break free. "What happened last night?" I ask, stillprocessing the rings. There's no way we tied the knot like drunken assholes inVegas. Not. Even. Possible.
He hands me some paperwork I hadn't noticed sitting on topof the mahogany dresser. "This happened. I admit to being as surprised asyou."
I raise an eyebrow. "I very much doubt that."
His grin falters. "Do you really not remember?"
I look down at the paper. It's a marriage license, signedand stamped and very official looking. Holy shitballs. What the fuck have Idone?
"Bits and pieces are coming back," I admit."But I don't remember this," I say, holding up the paperwork."This can't be legal."
"I'm afraid it is. I already made a call to my attorneywhile you were sleeping. Unless you're already married to someone else?"Now he raises his eyebrow, and I scowl.
"I think I'd know if I was previously married."
His lips curve into a sardonic grin, and I sigh at the ironyof my own words. "Don't give me that look, dude. This isn't standardoperating procedure for me, and I'm guessing--hoping--it's not for youeither."
"This is a first," he assures me. "You're thefirst."
My heart flutters, whether at his words or the way he saysthem, with heat and desire and all the things that landed me in this spot rightnow. I know I'm not his first sexual experience. That much is clear. I guessthat makes me his first wife. Um, great?
As the crowd at the bar grew louder, we moved closer totalk. I couldn't help but notice how good he smelled, a spicy, woody scent withhints of cinnamon and cardamom. It made me want to taste him.
As if reading my mind, mid-sentence he leaned in, cupped myface with his hands, and pressed his lips to mine. He tasted like expensive redwine, and he deepened our kiss, exploring my mouth with his, our tonguesteasing each other.
When the kiss ended, and he pulled away, I felt deflated andaroused all at once. I missed the feel of him, the contact with his body, and aneed grew in me that I hadn't felt in quite some time.
He licked his lips and smiled. "I've been wanting to dothat since I first saw you walk in with your brother and friend."
I flushed at the thought that he'd been watching me thatlong. We'd been here for hours.
"You make quite an impression with a first kiss,"I said.
"That's just a taste of what's to come." Hewinked. I nearly swooned. Not actually swooned, because, you know, I'm not atoo-tight-corset-wearing damsel from the Victorian era, but if I'd beenstanding, there'd for sure be some wobbly knees.
This man. He was delicious, and I wanted more.
I plucked the cherry from my drink and sucked on it in aseductive way. "You're not the only one with skills," I said.
He was sitting so close, his knee was between my legs, onehand on my thigh, pushing up the red dress I was wearing. "Shall we gosomewhere and explore these skills in more... depth?"
I didn't need to touch him to tell he had enough in hispants to give true depth to those promises. I reached for my purse and caughtTate's eye. He looked at both of us, then smiled and mouthed, "Havefun!"
We walked out of the bar, Sebastian's hand on my lower back,lingering just a little bit too low, fingers exploring the curve of my ass. AndI didn't mind a bit. Believe me, if I did, I'd make my thoughts clear. No onehas ever accused me of being too shy to express my feelings.
But right now, with this man, there was only one feeling Iwanted to express, and it required considerably less clothing.