the registry office: everything faded until all he could feel and taste was this woman. His wife.
The wife he wanted tonight to be special for, no matter how much he wanted to take her up against the nearest wall.
He wrenched his mouth from hers, her dazed expression matching his.
‘What are you doing?’ She grabbed his lapels and shook him. ‘No sex, remember?’
He traced the curve of her cheek and the contours of her lips before deliberately dropping his hand.
‘This marriage might be a sham, but I figure a woman like you deserves a wedding night she’ll never forget.’
He meant it.
He’d never met a woman so bold, so forthright, so determined to get what she wanted, even if it meant sacrificing dreams of romance and happily ever after.
While Ruby hadn’t alluded to any of that fanciful emotional rubbish, he imagined she’d crave it like the next woman. And man—if half his mine workers had been any indication.
Those guys hooked up with a woman and had her up the aisle and pregnant in next to no time.
Wouldn’t they have a field day when they discovered the reclusive bachelor had married?
‘With sentimental guff like that, you’re making it mighty tough for me to keep pushing you away.’ She blinked and he could’ve sworn he caught a glimpse of tears.
Hell. He didn’t handle waterworks well. He’d emptied too many tissue boxes and changed too many tear-drenched shirts with his mum after Denver had been arrested—no way would he spoil the night he had planned by making his bride cry.
‘Then stop resisting and give in.’ He snagged her hand, tugged her inside and kicked the door shut. ‘You know you want to.’
Her watery smile tweaked his heart. ‘You’re extraordinarily confident.’
He nuzzled her ear and she shivered. ‘You better believe it, sweetheart.’ He laid his hands on her shoulders, turned her around in the direction of the lounge room and gave a little shove. ‘Go relax. I’ll come get you in a few minutes.’
‘What is this, a waiting room?’ she muttered, but did as she was told, heading for the couch in front of an unlit open fire.
‘It’ll be worth the wait,’ he said, the smoulder in her glance over her shoulder making him stride to the bedroom in double time.
He knew she’d come around to his way of thinking. That kiss to seal the deal for their marriage arrangement? A prelude to a night she’d never forget. He’d make sure of it.
He’d booked the Romance Package, whatever that was, and when he flung open the door, he braced for the worst—or best, from Ruby’s point of view.
He’d assumed she’d love all the hearts and flowers, while the thought of frilly lace covers and plump heart cushions and stinky aromatherapy oils made him twitch.
To his surprise, the bedroom was nothing how he’d imagined. Modern white furniture—bed, dresser, wardrobe—clean lines, minimal clutter. The ash polished boards gleamed in the down-lights, a crimson shag rug at the foot of the bed adding a dash of colour.
He spied a basket of goodies on the dresser with a card attached, Romance Package in calligraphic purple scrawl.
Curious, and keen to get a move on, he rummaged through the basket: edible massage oil, ylang-ylang-scented tea lights, Swiss chocolate, two punnets of strawberries, the requisite box of rose petals and condoms—two long strings’ worth.
He’d start with the candles and work his way up to the condoms.
He placed the tea lights in strategic positions around the room, cursing as he dropped a match twice before striking it hard enough to light.
Why on earth was he this nervous? If the kisses had been any indication, they’d burn up the sheets. And it wasn’t as if he’d have to make awkward morning-after small talk or come up with a half-decent excuse to extricate himself from the woman’s bed.
With a little luck they’d be doing this for the next few months on a regular basis.
This time, he dropped the whole damn box of matches.
How
The wife he wanted tonight to be special for, no matter how much he wanted to take her up against the nearest wall.
He wrenched his mouth from hers, her dazed expression matching his.
‘What are you doing?’ She grabbed his lapels and shook him. ‘No sex, remember?’
He traced the curve of her cheek and the contours of her lips before deliberately dropping his hand.
‘This marriage might be a sham, but I figure a woman like you deserves a wedding night she’ll never forget.’
He meant it.
He’d never met a woman so bold, so forthright, so determined to get what she wanted, even if it meant sacrificing dreams of romance and happily ever after.
While Ruby hadn’t alluded to any of that fanciful emotional rubbish, he imagined she’d crave it like the next woman. And man—if half his mine workers had been any indication.
Those guys hooked up with a woman and had her up the aisle and pregnant in next to no time.
Wouldn’t they have a field day when they discovered the reclusive bachelor had married?
‘With sentimental guff like that, you’re making it mighty tough for me to keep pushing you away.’ She blinked and he could’ve sworn he caught a glimpse of tears.
Hell. He didn’t handle waterworks well. He’d emptied too many tissue boxes and changed too many tear-drenched shirts with his mum after Denver had been arrested—no way would he spoil the night he had planned by making his bride cry.
‘Then stop resisting and give in.’ He snagged her hand, tugged her inside and kicked the door shut. ‘You know you want to.’
Her watery smile tweaked his heart. ‘You’re extraordinarily confident.’
He nuzzled her ear and she shivered. ‘You better believe it, sweetheart.’ He laid his hands on her shoulders, turned her around in the direction of the lounge room and gave a little shove. ‘Go relax. I’ll come get you in a few minutes.’
‘What is this, a waiting room?’ she muttered, but did as she was told, heading for the couch in front of an unlit open fire.
‘It’ll be worth the wait,’ he said, the smoulder in her glance over her shoulder making him stride to the bedroom in double time.
He knew she’d come around to his way of thinking. That kiss to seal the deal for their marriage arrangement? A prelude to a night she’d never forget. He’d make sure of it.
He’d booked the Romance Package, whatever that was, and when he flung open the door, he braced for the worst—or best, from Ruby’s point of view.
He’d assumed she’d love all the hearts and flowers, while the thought of frilly lace covers and plump heart cushions and stinky aromatherapy oils made him twitch.
To his surprise, the bedroom was nothing how he’d imagined. Modern white furniture—bed, dresser, wardrobe—clean lines, minimal clutter. The ash polished boards gleamed in the down-lights, a crimson shag rug at the foot of the bed adding a dash of colour.
He spied a basket of goodies on the dresser with a card attached, Romance Package in calligraphic purple scrawl.
Curious, and keen to get a move on, he rummaged through the basket: edible massage oil, ylang-ylang-scented tea lights, Swiss chocolate, two punnets of strawberries, the requisite box of rose petals and condoms—two long strings’ worth.
He’d start with the candles and work his way up to the condoms.
He placed the tea lights in strategic positions around the room, cursing as he dropped a match twice before striking it hard enough to light.
Why on earth was he this nervous? If the kisses had been any indication, they’d burn up the sheets. And it wasn’t as if he’d have to make awkward morning-after small talk or come up with a half-decent excuse to extricate himself from the woman’s bed.
With a little luck they’d be doing this for the next few months on a regular basis.
This time, he dropped the whole damn box of matches.
How
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