stopped to buy drinks. She finished her glass of wine as quickly as he polished off a beer, adding to the light buzz she’d maintained all day. They walked through the casino on the way to the taxi area at the front of the hotel.
She’d enjoyed being with Mike so much, she’d almost forgotten about Marshall and the scene back at the hotel. Even though she’d never completely shaken the feeling that she was being followed, she’d been able to put the unsettling notion out of her mind. Until she saw J.R. in the hallway where they stood inside the hotel, Circus Circus.
Damn, Marshall was persistent. But that’s what her ex-partner did when he considered something-or someone-his. Luckily for Amber, this was one of the easiest hotels to get lost in, with its awkward layout and confusing maze-type locations.
Yet somehow, J.R. still managed to keep track of her.
With his shaved head and broad shoulders, he intimidated her on a good day. Coming off her argument with Marshall, today wasn’t one of those. She didn’t want to deal with a confrontation and she definitely didn’t want Mike to get into a fight with J.R. So she did the only thing she could think of on short notice. She pulled Mike into the nearest alcove and into a hot, distracting kiss.
One she felt from the tips of her toes all the way through her body. With each sweep and swirl of his tongue, her stomach fluttered and everything around her faded as his lips worked magic. He cupped her cheeks in his hands and his body pressed into hers, urging her against the wall for support. She felt his erection swell beneath his jeans and press into her stomach. This man aroused her on so many levels she couldn’t think clearly all.
“We’ve got to get to my room,” he muttered.
She swallowed hard, the reality of her situation returning to her and creating a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t return to plain sight just yet. She glanced around and realized they weren’t in an entryway but a large, floral-lined room.
“Are you ready to go?” Mike asked gruffly.
She stroked her fingers down his razor-stubbled cheek, scrambling for a reason to stall leaving for a few precious minutes. “I am, but-”
“Are you two next?” a male voice asked.
“Next?” Mike asked.
A gray-haired man holding a clipboard glanced at them. “Come come. If you’re going to change your mind about getting hitched, do it out in the hall.”
“Hitched?” Amber’s voice squeaked as she repeated the question.
“What else would you do in a wedding chapel?” the man asked.
“I don’t know.” She tried not to stammer. She glanced at Mike.
He raised an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful.
“Everyone’s nervous the first time,” the other man said, cracking a smile at his own joke. “Sally, get them something to drink,” he called over his shoulder. “It’ll calm their jitters.”
The man’s assistant, an overly made-up woman, handed them each a plastic flute filled with champagne.
Mike threaded his hand through Amber’s, but said nothing.
The fact that he hadn’t run for the hills made Amber wonder what he was thinking. She took a large gulp of the bubbly drink.
“Which package do you want? All of them include a small bridal bouquet, music, souvenir certificate and holder, garter and minister. That’d be me.” The man spoke by rote and clicked his pen with each item on the list. “The least expensive one is the Traditional. For two hundred and eighty-one dollars, you also get a bigger bridal bouquet and a boutonniere for the groom.” He almost sounded bored.
“What about photos?” Mike asked, speaking up for the first time.
Amber nearly choked. “What?”
Mike shrugged and leaned closer to her. “It’s Vegas. Let’s just do it,” he said, his gaze delving into hers intently.
She licked her lips, which had suddenly gone dry. “Come on,” she said, certain he was teasing. “Even the tables in Vegas have limits,” she said in an effort to see how far he’d take things.
Because the notion of marrying him on the spur of the moment held too much appeal.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t set our own.” He raised an eyebrow, challenging her. “You’ve said it’s a place where anything can happen.”
“But…you don’t live here!”
He met her gaze, holding on. “We’ll figure it out later.”
“I don’t got all day,” the man said.
Mike turned back to him. “A bride should have full-color glossy memories of her wedding day,” he said.
“One photo is included. Anything else is extra.”
Mike shot Amber a look. “Are we doing this?” he asked.
She’d grown up a gambler. And she liked him.
“Why not?” she asked, suddenly into this as much as he was.
“Throw one more photo into the package,” Mike said, reaching for her right hand.
“Are you sure?” she asked him.
Mike met her stare, his eyes warm and sexy. “Make it legal?” He toyed with the large stone on her finger. “I’m sure. Are you?”
Amber hadn’t a clue what his reasons for pursuing this were, but she knew her own. She liked him, he obviously liked her and a big man was waiting to have a talk with her somewhere right outside the door. But more important, their impossibly romantic day had cast a spell over her, leaving her in a happy, dizzy haze.
Besides, these wedding chapels existed in the casino for a reason. Even her parents had married in one. Her head spun and she no longer knew whether it was alcohol induced or if she was losing her mind. Nor did she much care.
She glanced up at his handsome profile. Her white knight. Her cop savior. “Why not?” she heard herself repeating.
“Credit card,” the minister said.
She wondered if Mike would declare it a joke now.
He whipped out silver plastic.
Everything else-the organ played by Sally, the bouquet wilting at the edges thrust into her hand, signing the wedding certificate-happened in a blur of cheap champagne and I do’s.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the minister said. “You may kiss the bride.”
Unlike the fast wedding, the kiss was as clear as the rest of her day with Mike. Full of passion and desire, it was over way too soon. Before they knew it their chaplain had clapped his hands and dismissed them, already on to the next couple.
Amber’s heart pounded hard in her chest as the reality of what they’d done settled around her. “Did we really just get married?” Amber asked, laughing as they walked out of the chapel, license and photograph in hand.
“I believe we did…Mrs. Corwin.” It was almost impossible to comprehend, Mike thought.
He normally wasn’t impulsive. As a cop he couldn’t afford to be. Day to day, he relied on training and instinct. When a quick decision was called for, it was always founded in a combination of both.
Now he was married.
The initial impulse had been just that, yet somehow he knew the decision had been rooted in his connection with Amber, one he knew he couldn’t lose. Even now that the deed was done, he didn’t regret a thing. In some odd way, getting hitched to Amber made sense.
For a Corwin man.
He and Amber weren’t in love.
No love, no curse.
Although for Amber, Mike sensed he’d be willing to tempt fate. For the first time, Mike thought he understood his cousin Derek’s recent marriage to his high-school sweetheart, the woman he’d once pushed away to avoid setting the curse in motion. Amber was addictive and Mike discovered he liked being hooked. Enough to want to keep her by his side.
“What do you say we head back to my room and consummate this marriage?” he asked his bride, pushing
