Born to Be Wild (39 page)

Max chuckled at his wife’s anxiety. “Not a stripper, Lauren. A Las Vegas showgirl.”

“You might see a difference between the two, but I don’t. Goodness, Max! She’s not going to be topless, is she?”

“The only one who’s going to be topless is you.” Max pulled his frantic bride behind a secluded palm and took advantage of the privacy, trailing his fingers over her soft round shoulders, along the curve of her neck, at last tracing the silky skin edging the satiny fabric of her dangerously low-cut gown. “The topless part comes later, of course... when we’re alone, and I have the pleasure of slowly peeling off every stitch of clothing you’re wearing.”

She leaned into him, her heavenly breasts pressing against his chest as she kissed the base of his neck and made his body shudder. “There’s not going to be much to peel off,” she said, her words a mesmerizing purr against his ear. “Beneath this gown are a thong, a skimpy bra, and nothing else. I was afraid I wouldn’t have the patience for a slow striptease. Not tonight.”

“I don’t have the patience, either,” Max admitted, a definite understatement given his current state of anxiety. “So why don’t we ditch the rest of
this reception and start the honeymoon ahead of schedule?”

“That’s such a lovely thought, Max, but we can’t leave until we’ve had our first dance together.” Her words whispered warmly over his mouth, making him want her even more. “After that, we have to cut the cake, toss the bouquet, and let the guests throw
rose petals at us.”

“That could take hours.”

A seductive smile touched her lips. “So could a lot of very pleasant things I have planned in the days to come.”

“Ladies and gentlemen.” The squealing microphone and Bear’s booming voice tore Max’s attention away from paradise. Getting a grip on his senses, he tugged Lauren from behind the palm to face the laughter and questioning stares of the guests.

“Now that I’ve got the bride and groom’s attention—” Bear’s voice burst through the amplifiers, “I want to tell you about the special treat we’ve got for you this evening, straight from the Las Vegas strip.”

“Please don’t let her be topless,” Lauren chanted, as Max led her toward the bandstand.

“The little lady I’m about to introduce you to can belt out a song better than anyone I’ve ever heard,” Bear continued. “So, without any further ado, may we have a big round of applause for sweet, sweet Charity.”

Max and every guest watched in awe as the long-legged, black-haired knockout stepped from her hiding place behind the band and strolled
toward Bear wearing the shortest, tightest, reddest mini-dress Max had ever seen.

Applause erupted through the crowd. Well... the men were applauding. The women were far more subdued, except for Lauren, whose eyes fixed on the stunner from Las Vegas. Even Pastor Flynn was caught in her trance. Max didn’t know the man, but Lauren had told him time and again that Mike Flynn
hadn’t been interested in women since his wife died. Apparently she didn’t know the stalwart minister, and her brother’s ranch foreman, all that well, because it was more than obvious he found the showgirl intriguing.

Maybe it was her longer-than-long legs Mike found fascinating. Maybe it was her wild black hair. Hell, Max didn’t care what attracted Mike to the woman, he just wished she’d sing so he could dance with his wife.

Charity took the microphone from Bear. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft and low as she faced the gathering, hitting Mike with a killer smile that could have knocked a lesser man off his feet. Slowly she turned her focus on the other guests. “I’ve always loved the song Lauren picked for her first dance with Max.” Her voice was melodic, and Pastor Flynn looked completely captivated, Max thought. “I don’t think anyone can sing ‘Could I Have This Dance’ quite like Anne Murray, but the words are beautiful and perfect for two people beginning a life together.”

Charity’s dark brown eyes sparkled as she looked across the dance floor. Her gaze rested momentarily on Lauren, then trailed toward Max. He saw something familiar in the tilt of her smile,
but the remembrance was fleeting, chased away by the tinkling of the piano and by the nearness of his wife, who swayed with him when he pulled her into his arms.

“I’ll always remember...
” Charity began, and the beautiful lilt of her voice filled the air.

Max pressed his cheek to Lauren’s, tuning out the music, listening only to the rhythm of his heart beating in time with his wife’s. They circled the pool and their guests, but Max saw only his bride. She was lovely and warm and he lowered his mouth over hers, kissing her tenderly, feeling as if his heart would burst with happiness.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” Lauren said, her smile and the trace of tears in her eyes charming him as nothing ever had.

Suddenly their song ended and another began. A blur of family and friends began to dance, a male voice sang into the microphone, and the cool night breeze whispered around them as Max led Lauren away from the crowd, needing to have her all to himself.

Stars and thousands of miniature lights twinkled around them. Lauren had master-minded this whole incredible event, yet all Max wanted was to spirit his wife away from the festivities, to leave the reception and begin the honeymoon. But a gentle hand touched his shoulder, drawing him to a stop. The showgirl stood at his side, smiling with question-filled eyes.

“I think you might be looking for me.”

Max frowned, shaking his head. “You must have me confused with someone else.”

Her dark brown eyes sparkled. “I’m sorry. I was under the impression you were looking for your sister.”

Lauren’s fingers dug into his arm as he stared at the woman in red.

“Charlotte?” he asked, the word nearly sticking in his throat.

“I haven’t gone by Charlotte in years. I’m Charity now.”

All Max could do was stare, trying to match this woman with the four-year-old who’d waved goodbye to him twenty years ago. She had the same black hair, the same brown eyes, but he was afraid to get his hopes up.

“How did you know I was looking for my sister?” he asked, his words short, to the point.

“Your investigator told my parents, for starters.”

“Harry never said anything about looking for a Las Vegas showgirl.”

“I’m afraid my parents would never divulge my current occupation to anyone. I imagine your investigator was looking for a shy young girl with her nose in her Bible.” Charity smiled. “That was me in a former life.”

Max wasn’t buying it. “How do I know you’re my sister.”

“Goodness, Max!” Lauren glared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Can’t you see the similarities? You’ve got the same eyes, the same smile.”

Lauren made it sound so easy, but he’d seen too many other women over the years who had his eyes, his smile. Too many other women claiming to be his sister, when they weren’t.

“Do you remember where we lived?” he asked, ignoring Lauren’s protests, needing some kind of confirmation from Charity.

But she shook her head at his question. “My parents wouldn’t tell me much about my life before they adopted me—only that my name was Charlotte Wilde. I don’t have an original birth certificate. I don’t have any old photos, and it was just a week ago that my parents told me I might have a brother. I had to persuade them to give me Harry Crow’s phone number, and I had to beg him not to tell you I’d be coming today. I wanted time to try and remember the early years of my life before seeing you.”

“And did you remember anything?” Max asked, some of his skepticism easing away.

“Only this.” She pulled a lock of hair away from her forehead to reveal a scar not more than an inch long. “I remembered an accident and my head hurting. I remembered crying, and someone holding me, making me feel better until the ambulance came. But that’s all.”

Max touched the scar lightly, remembering the accident, remembering the way he’d pulled Charlotte into his arms and pressed his T-shirt to the gash on her forehead, telling her everything would be all right.

But everything had gone all wrong. Charlotte
had disappeared, leaving a hole in his heart for twenty years.

Now—finally—she was back.

Max felt tears welling in his eyes, felt his wife squeezing his hand, felt as if the best day of his entire life had suddenly gotten even better.

He pulled his sister into his arms, holding her close, letting the reality of the moment sink in. “There’s so much to talk about, so much to tell you.”

“And I’ve got at least a million questions—but they’ll have to wait till later.”

“Why later?” Max asked, holding on to her hands when she tried to pull away. “What’s wrong with now?”

“Because this is your wedding day. Because you’ve got a honeymoon to go on and I’ve never come between a husband and wife and I don’t intend to start now. Besides, I flew in just for the day. I’ve got a plane to catch in less than two hours—”

“Please stay longer,” Lauren urged. “We can postpone the honeymoon a day or two.”

“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, and let me tell you, I hear a lot of crazy things in Vegas. No,” Charity stated, “I’m not interrupting your honeymoon. In fact, I’m not going to take up even one more minute of your time.”

“We’ll come to Las Vegas,” Max said, studying the beauty of her face, soaking up a few new memories to hold on to.

“I’d love that,” Charity said. “I start a new show
in a few weeks and I’ll get you the best seats in the house.”

All too soon she was out of his arms, telling him where she could be reached, and doling out kisses and smiles before she walked toward the other guests. She stopped not ten feet away and flashed a bright smile over her shoulder. “By the way, who was the tall, good-looking guy who was watching me sing?”

“The one all in black?” Lauren asked.

“That’s the one.”

“Oh, dear,” Lauren answered. “That’s Mike Flynn—the minister.”

Charity rolled her eyes. “Well, I’ll scratch him from my list of dance partners. There’s just something about me and ministers that doesn’t quite compute.”

Charity didn’t say another word. Instead, she headed straight for the guy standing next to Pastor Flynn and tugged the reluctant gentleman to the dance floor. Max drew his wife to his side and watched his sister until she disappeared into the crowd.

“We can go to Las Vegas tonight,” Lauren said, curling her fingers over his cheek, kissing him lightly.

“Is that what you really want?”

She smiled. “Not exactly, but I love you, Max. I want you to be happy, and if that means spending time with Charity, well... I can wait a little while for our honeymoon.”

“I don’t want to wait,” he said, smoothing a lock of wind-tossed hair from her cheek. “Not for
a week, not for a day, not even till this reception’s over.”

“The plane to Tahiti doesn’t leave until morning.

“But the Fantasy Inn’s open all night.”

Lauren’s eyes darted toward the patio where over two hundred guests had congregated, two hundred guests who were eating, drinking, dancing, and didn’t seem to miss the bride and groom.

A soft, slow smile touched her lips as she gripped his fingers, lifted the hem of her silver gown, and beat a hasty retreat through the pink marble monstrosity to the sleek black motorcycle parked in the circular drive.

Max swung his leg over the Harley, and Lauren did the same, her delectable body snuggling close to his. “I love you,” she whispered against his ear.

Max twisted in the seat, sweeping his fingers through her hair. “I love you, too.” Then he kissed her. Softly. Tenderly.

And Max knew, without a doubt, that this was just the beginning of the sweetest, wildest ride of their lives.

—
The End—

For more Remington and Wilde Escapades, read
Wife For A Day
,
Born to Be Wild
,
Something Wild (coming March 2013), and
Stuck On You
. (They don’t have to be read in order, but they’re far more fun read
that way!)

Enchanted
(A Merry Nicholas Christmas Tale - #1)