froze, staring at him mutely, her gaze dropping to his naked chest, then flitting back up to his face. His eyes met hers and for a moment he was struck again by her beauty. But then he forced himself to look at her rationally. She'd just learned her groom wouldn't be attending the wedding, yet she'd seemed to accept the news without hysterics and tantrums.

Sean rubbed his hand over his abdomen, his muscles still tense from when she had punched him. Every instinct told him that Laurel Rand shouldn't be trusted, but the money was just too good to resist. Ten thousand dollars didn't fall into his lap every day. 'Yeah,' he murmured. 'I'll do it.'

A tiny smile curled her lips and Sean took satisfaction in the knowledge that what he was doing had pleased her. She really was extraordinarily beautiful, especially when she smiled. Some might think her mouth a little too wide or her cheekbones too high. Taken alone, each feature of her face wasn't all that pretty. But when put together, she had a beauty that he found arresting.

She slowly approached and handed him a folded piece of paper. 'I wrote it all out,' she said. 'And… and I wrote you a check. It's dated for the day after tomorrow.'

He took the paper and the check, then grabbed the tuxedo jacket and put them both into the breast pocket. 'Thanks.'

'Aren't you going to read it?' Laurel asked.

He shrugged as he slipped into the pleated shirt. 'I trust you.' Sean stared down at the front of the shirt. 'No buttons,' he said.

'Oh, there are studs,' she said, grabbing up the garment bag and fishing around until she found a card. 'Here.'

Sean fumbled to get one off the card, but his fingers were clumsy with nerves. It dropped to the floor and skidded beneath the chair. 'I never could figure these things out,' he said, bending to retrieve the stud.

'Let me,' Laurel said, taking the errant stud from his fingers.

He stood in front of her, the shirt gaping open. When her fingers brushed his skin, a current of sensation rushed through him. He held his breath as she worked at the studs, trying to focus his thoughts on something other than a vivid fantasy of her smoothing her palms over his naked skin and brushing away the shirt altogether. Of her damp lips trailing across his-

She glanced up at him and Sean sent her a weak smile.

'Do they fit?' she asked.

'They?'

She sank down, picked up one of the black patent leather shoes, and held it out. Sean slipped it on his left foot and found it had to be two sizes too big. 'They'll be all right.'

'No,' she said. To his surprise, she reached down the front of her dress and came back with a wad of tissues. 'Here. Stuff some into the toes.' She pulled out more tissue and tossed it over her shoulder. 'I didn't need the cleavage anyway.'

He bit back a chuckle. Her honesty was disarming. 'Aren't you nervous?' he asked.

'Why would I be nervous?'

'Aren't all brides supposed to be nervous?'

She ran her hand over the front of his pleated shirt. 'I'm not getting married today,' she said. 'You saw to that.'

A trace of anger colored her voice and he immediately felt regret for his part in her distress. 'I'm sorry,' Sean said. 'But I think it's for the best.' He paused. 'Did you love him a lot?'

Her hand stilled on his chest and she fixed her gaze on the shiny pink paint on her fingernails. 'I obviously didn't know him,' she said in a resigned tone. Laurel forced a smile. 'I suppose we should talk about what's going to happen. You have been to a wedding before, haven't you?'

'Quite a few lately,' Sean said, thinking of his married siblings.

'Good, then you know how it works. You'll go up to the front of the church and wait for me at the altar.'

'Do I have a best man?'

'No,' Laurel said. 'Edward phoned me last night to tell me his brother, Lawrence, couldn't make it. He had a family emergency, something about his pregnant wife. But then, that might have been a lie. He probably doesn't even have a brother.' She reached for his tuxedo jacket, then held it out for him. 'It's a traditional service. Short and simple. Just listen to the minister and repeat everything he tells you to.'

'I can do that,' Sean said, turning away from her.

She slipped his jacket over his arms, then smoothed her hands across his shoulders. 'That's not such a bad fit,' she said. 'I need to go get my bouquet and to talk to the photographer, so I guess I'll see you at the altar.'

Sean slowly turned back to face her. 'Are you sure you want to do this?'

Laurel nodded, then started for the door. But she stopped before she opened it. 'One more thing,' she said. 'Can you act as if this is the happiest day of your life?'

'I can try,' he said.

She slipped out of the room. Sean grabbed the shoes and stuffed a wad of tissue in each of the toes. He found socks in the garment bag and quickly pulled them on before slipping into the shoes. He wanted to make this work for her. He wasn't sure why. He only knew that she was in trouble and she'd asked for his help.

And there was something about her that drew him. He didn't have to measure every word he said with Laurel. She'd been bluntly honest with him, told him what she needed and how she felt. He hated the games that went on between men and women, the coy looks and the subtle innuendo, the advance and retreat meant to lead to the bedroom. His brothers were good at the game, but Sean always felt as if someone hadn't shown him the rule book.

Laurel Rand didn't play games. When she didn't like what he had to say, she punched him in the stomach; when she needed his help, she simply offered to pay him for it. She hadn't tried to manipulate him into something he didn't want to do. He had to admire a woman like that.

When he finished tying his shoes, he made an attempt at the bow tie, but each time, it turned out lopsided. After the fifth try, he decided to settle for crooked. He raked his hands through his tousled hair, then stared at his reflection. He didn't look too bad. 'This has got to be the strangest day of your life, boyo,' he muttered before turning and walking to the door.

He walked down the hall. In the distance, he saw Laurel standing in front of the entrance to the sanctuary. She turned and their eyes met for a moment. A hesitant smile touched her lips and Sean gave her a little wave. He stopped and held out his arms, then slowly turned so that she might approve of his appearance. She laughed, and then her three bridesmaids turned to look at him.

Sean pulled open the door and slowly walked up the side aisle of the sanctuary. He found the minister waiting for him in a small anteroom. 'Well, we're almost ready to get started,' the minister said. 'Are you ready?'

'I guess,' Sean murmured.

'I know you didn't have a chance to attend the rehearsal, but the service will be pretty straightforward. Just listen to me and I'll guide you through it. Any second thoughts?' he asked.

'What?'

'Marriage is for life, son,' he said. 'If you're not ready, then we don't have to walk out there.'

'I'm ready,' Sean said.

'Then let's go.' The minister walked out the door and Sean had no choice but to follow him. He didn't have any idea what kind of sin he had just committed by lying to a minister. If he lied to a priest he'd be eternally damned, but the Episcopalians might be a bit more lenient on that point.

The minister stopped at the head of the center aisle. 'You wait for your bride here,' he whispered. 'Then take her hand and come to the top of those three steps.'

'Got it,' Sean murmured. Take her hand, then up the steps. Take her hand, then up the steps. Though there was no reason for him to be nervous, he was. He didn't want to mess this up for Laurel. It seemed to mean so much to her.

Organ music suddenly filled the church and the doors opened. Slowly, bridesmaids dressed in pale green dresses marched down the aisle. When they'd arranged themselves in a line opposite Sean, the organ music swelled and Laurel appeared. Her veil obscured her face and even though he couldn't see her features, he'd never seen anything more breathtaking. For a moment Sean wondered if this was how a real groom was supposed to feel. But then reality intruded and he remembered that the next fifteen or twenty minutes would mean nothing at all. It

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