Married To The Boss (7 page)

He shushed her by placing his thumb over her lips, which were even softer than her skin, prompting him to continue touching. She froze, her eyes huge. “What I'd like,” he murmured, “is to make you happy. If you really want to wear a new dress—”

When she shook her head, he reluctantly removed his thumb so she could speak. “No, the suit will do. You're right.”

He hesitated, not wanting her to look so fatally resigned. But he knew that the less fanfare the better—for his reputation and his peace of mind. He already felt far too involved. To make it up to her, he would buy her flowers, traditional white rosebuds to go with the suit. And another emerald for her wedding band. Knowing Dana, she wouldn't be expecting a ring; she wouldn't be expecting anything at all. He didn't want their bargain to be one-sided. He wanted to pamper her and he wanted to see her smile.

But he also wanted to protect himself, because he had a feeling he'd miscalculated his reaction to Dana Dillinger. She'd changed things around so that now it was a marriage of
her
convenience. Her
sexual
convenience. And now that she'd insisted on getting down and dirty with him, he felt thrown off balance in a way he'd never experienced before.

He wanted her. And that had never been part of the plan.

“H
I
,
SWEETHEART.
”

Dana caught her breath as R.J. gently touched her cheek, drawing her attention. She'd been so preoccupied and nervous over the coming ceremony that she hadn't heard him enter. And this new habit of his of using endearments continually caught her off guard. She wondered if she'd ever get used to it.

His smile was teasing, as if he knew she was nervous and found it endearing. “This is for you.”

Dana stared down at the large, square white box R.J. handed to her. She'd been surprised by the appearance of the judge's chambers moments before when she and her good friend Hope Logan had arrived. The large room had been fancied up with white satin ribbon and a white runner. And there were flowers everywhere, flanking a small altar, situated on either side of the door, in a row of pots bordering the floor and in every corner. The air smelled sweet with the combined scents of orange blossom, roses, carnations and orchids.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but it hadn't been wedding decorations, not when the wedding wasn't real, not when there was no love involved.
Hope, one of her closest friends and the only witness Dana had invited to the wedding, had known for some time how Dana felt about R.J. Trusting her friend completely, Dana had confided R.J.'s motive for the wedding, and had been grateful that Hope hadn't tried to dissuade her from going through with it.

When they'd discovered the decorated chambers, Hope had squeezed her hand and whispered, “Dana, you know R.J. doesn't do anything halfway. You probably should have expected this.” But she hadn't.

And now R.J. had another surprise for her.

Dana blinked at the box. “What is it?”

R.J. grinned and she privately thought he was the most charming, handsome man she'd ever seen. He looked stunning in his dark suit and white shirt, and there was a white rosebud in his lapel. “I promise you'll find out if you open the box.”

Very aware of everyone looking at her with expectation, Dana lifted the lid on the cardboard box and carefully pulled apart tissue paper. Quietly she caught her breath. Lush, fully bloomed, creamy white roses and rosebuds, baby's breath and delicate orchids were framed by intricate white lace and long, dangling ribbons.

He'd bought her a wedding bouquet.

Tears threatened, and she struggled to subdue them. Ever since he'd made his proposition, her emotions had been on a roller coaster ride, winging high with excitement and an irrepressible, ridiculous hope, then soaring to the depths with stark reality. This was
all for show, a complete sham. She wondered why everyone smiled. Did they truly not know? R.J. had always had his pick of beautiful women; why would any sane person believe he'd marry her for love?

Faint music started, startling her anew, and R.J. took her arm to turn her toward the altar. The judge stood in front of it, his face alight with pleasure. Hope had taken her place to the right of the judge, smiling despite the fact she knew this was all contrived.

Drake Logan, Hope's husband and R.J.'s good friend, stood to the left of the judge. Megan stood beside Hope, and Dana realized they all had flowers now. Hope and Megan wore corsages that matched her bouquet, and a white rosebud was tucked in Drake's lapel. Why had R.J. gone to all this trouble? Dana wondered.

But, of course, Hope had been right. When R.J. did something, he did it right, with no room for chance. He wouldn't want any speculation about the authenticity of the wedding.

“You're not going to faint on me, are you?” R.J. whispered in her ear as he gently urged her forward.

Numbly, she shook her head, though fainting seemed a very real possibility. “I'm fine.”

He chuckled and gave her hand a squeeze. “A typical answer for you. Tell me, do you ever complain about anything?”

The question startled her. “Why would I complain to you? You're my boss, not my counselor or therapist.”

“I thought I was your friend, as well.”

They were keeping their voices low, barely audible over the music. Dana nodded. “A friend, but one with limitations.”

His eyes glittered down at her. “I'm soon to be your husband.”

Unable to hide her feelings, she gave him a stark look. “Not really.” By this time they had reached the judge, who started in with the prescribed ceremony. Dana could feel the heat of R.J.'s annoyance beside her, but she refused to let herself be deluded. This wedding was meant to repair his reputation, nothing more. His gestures with the flowers and music were appreciated, but then, R.J. was always considerate of the women he associated with. His generosity was well known, but a smart woman understood that it didn't represent anything beyond superficial affection and a desire to please at best, an intelligent tactic at worst. Either way, it was a long, long stretch from love.

“If you don't answer him, sweetheart, I'm going to be mortified.”

She heard the teasing in R.J.'s tone and saw the amusement on everyone's face. Her cheeks heated. She'd been so lost in thought she hadn't even heard the question. But the judge was looking at her expectantly, and she knew the appropriate answer. “Yes.”

R.J. gave a rumbling chuckle and again squeezed her hand. In an aside to their small audience, he said, “I see she knows how to keep a man on pins and
needles,” and they all laughed softly. Dana forced a smile, but it fell away with a gasp when R.J. lifted her left hand and slid a wedding band into place on the third finger.

The ring was a narrow, polished gold circle with a glowing emerald embedded in the middle and surrounded by glittering diamonds. Though it was larger and somewhat more extravagant, it matched the necklace to perfection and left her utterly speechless. She stared at it, with no idea what to say.

Not once had she considered the idea of a ring. Her thoughts had centered on maintaining some sort of emotional balance, of taking advantage of the opportunity to be with R.J., to openly love him, without tossing away her pride by letting him discover her love. She had to protect her heart and at the same time feed the growing need to be with him, to touch him, to have all of him—even under false pretenses.

There'd been no room in her thoughts for the formalities of the wedding. R.J. had said to leave it up to him, and she had.

Hope and Megan oohed over the ring, leaning closer to see it better. Drake gave a masculine murmur of approval, prompting Dana to say simply, and somewhat breathlessly, “Thank you.”

She hoped everyone would attribute her preoccupation to bridal jitters. R.J. had orchestrated such a convincing facade. He'd manipulated them all so skillfully, playing the doting bridegroom with the flowers and the music and the ring. Only Hope knew that beneath it all, Dana's heart was breaking.

Everything about the wedding shone—except the bride. When Hope had picked her up to bring her to the courthouse, Dana had wanted to run back inside and change. Her white suit, which R.J. had suggested was perfectly suitable seemed dowdy in comparison to Hope's classy silk sheath and pearls. But of course, she'd had nothing more appropriate to change into, only more suits and her casual clothes.

But now her businesslike outfit looked even more utilitarian against the beautiful flowers and the emerald ring. She wanted to shout her frustration, she wanted to run away.
She wanted R.J. to love her.

And the judge, with a hearty smile, announced, “You may kiss the bride.”

Dana sucked in her breath and held very, very still. She felt all the eyes watching her, Hope's with a sort of wistful expectation, Megan's with joy, Drake's mildly amused.

Her thoughts and feelings fractured as R.J. smiled at her. His rough fingertips, so warm and steady, touched her chin, tipping up her face. The worries that had overwhelmed her only seconds before disappeared at the prospect of kissing him again.

Dana forgot to breathe. The kiss wasn't voracious, but rather respectful and restrained. Through the ringing in her ears, she vaguely heard Drake encouraging R.J. to do better, and before she knew it, his mouth was back with new intent.

His hand slid from its gentle touch on her chin to grip the back of her neck and to the sounds of loud cheering, he tilted her over his arm and continued
the kiss. Dana could do little more than hang on to his lapels, inadvertently crushing his boutonniere and dropping her bouquet to the floor, as his tongue stroked hers. She actually felt dizzy, and when he lifted his mouth, it was to grin down at her as she remained balanced in his grasp.

Against her lips, he whispered, “Smile, or they'll all think I'm blackmailing you into this.”

Smiling was totally beyond her capabilities. Instead, she leaned up the scant inch necessary and brought their mouths together again.

Drake laughed out loud, and Hope and Megan applauded.

Dana was dimly aware of a flash of light, then another. In fact, there had been flashes all through the short ceremony, she realized. R.J. released her mouth and gently drew her upright, then placed one muscular arm around her shoulders. Hope, having rescued the bouquet before it got trampled, handed it to Dana, and they turned to face the photographer.

A small woman with short, straight blond hair and a Bohemian style wielded her camera like a weapon, turning this way and that with an excess of energy. R.J. didn't seem to mind, so Dana assumed this was another surprise, freezing the moment for posterity. She shuddered.

He had joked about the others thinking he'd blackmailed her, when in truth, she was the blackmailer.

And he was paying her demands. She'd insisted he give her all the benefits of a real wife, and evidently he was determined to do just that.

R.J. raised a hand and announced to the group, “Dana and I have arranged a celebration dinner and we insist you all join us, to allow us to show our appreciation.”

Dana almost groaned. She wouldn't be able to swallow a bite, and she wanted this over with so she could relax. Then she realized where her thoughts had taken her. Once the celebration was over, they'd be alone—and R.J. would have to pay up, so to speak. She shuddered again at her own daring.

Among the murmur of agreements, R.J. leaned down and kissed her cheek, then whispered in her ear, “This will be the perfect time for our marriage to be leaked to the media. People will see us there, and it'll be reported. That way we won't have to break the news.”

“I see.”

He turned her to face him, still leaning close, holding her in a loose embrace. She knew it was for the sake of their audience and wanted to pull away. “Does that idea distress you?”

“No, of course not. I want to do whatever you think is best, R.J.”

For some reason, her reply seemed to annoy him. Then his frown lifted, replaced by a look of chagrin. “You're not enjoying yourself at all, are you?”

She could tell the idea disappointed him. He'd gone out of his way to make things nice for her, and she was acting like an ungrateful wretch. Luckily the others were all standing a discreet distance away, giving them the privacy they needed. Dana tried to
inch back, putting some space between them, and R.J. tightened his hold. She gave up. “Everything is lovely.”

He searched her face. “If you're nervous about tonight—”

“No! I mean…” She glanced around. “I don't want to talk about that.” Planning it in advance had been so much easier than dealing with it in the present.

He grinned, and then treated her to a swift, hard kiss on her lips. “You can still back out if you want, you know. I won't become a demanding husband.”

He held her so close, the only way to avoid his gaze was to drop her forehead against his chest. And that treated her to the scent of his warm body and spicy cologne, the feel of his hard muscles and the rhythmic thumping of his heart.
God, she wanted him.
“I…I haven't changed my mind.”

She felt his sigh against the top of her head, his hands coasting gently up and down her spine. “You are a determined woman, aren't you?”

There was no discernible inflection in his tone, which gave her pause. “Does that bother you, R.J.?”

His tight squeeze made her gasp. “Not at all,” he said, without an ounce of conviction. “I just hope you know what the hell you're doing.”

He stepped away from her, and they went about the formality of signing papers and discussing transportation. R.J. had rented a limo to take them all to the restaurant, and it was waiting in front of the courthouse when they exited. Dana assumed this was
another measure to make certain the public took note of the wedding. And sure enough, speculation was ripe as onlookers watched the small procession climb into the shining limousine.

R.J. seated Dana in the very back beside him, while Megan sat in the long seat to their right, Drake and Hope to their left. The privacy window was up, so the driver was invisible. Soft music played, and the leather seats creaked as everyone shifted to get comfortable.

“Drake, if you'll do the honors, the champagne is right beside you.”

Without a word, the driver pulled away from the curb and Drake retrieved the champagne from the ice bucket and went about filling glasses. When he was through, R.J. lifted his glass in a salute. Smiling at Dana, he said, “To my very special bride.”

There was a heartfelt round of, “hear, hear,” and then everyone drank a toast to Dana.

Megan watched her son and his new bride. She still hadn't quite figured out how this had all come about, but she couldn't have been more pleased. R.J. was a recluse in many ways, so determined to prove himself, though it wasn't necessary at all. He'd become a total workaholic over the years, and her mother's intuition had often told her Dana was the right woman for him, maybe the only woman for him. Dana could stand up to him, meet him eye to eye, where others wouldn't dare. She supported him and believed in him even when he didn't believe in himself. Dana loved him unconditionally.