Barbara Dunlop: The Ceo’s Accidental Bride

“Kaitlin?” he prompted.

She swallowed to clear the thick emotions from her throat. “Sure,” she told him with grim determination, stepping aside. “Come on in.”

As she shut the door, Zach took in the disarray of packing boxes littering the apartment. There wasn’t anywhere for him to sit down, and she didn’t offer to clear a chair. He wouldn’t be staying very long.

Though she tried to ignore it, her glance shifted involuntarily to the underwear box. Zach tracked her gaze, his resting on the mauve-and-white silk teddy her friend Lindsay had bought her for Christmas last year.

“Do you mind?” she snapped, marching over to pull the cardboard flaps shut.

“Not at all,” he muttered, and she thought she heard a trace of amusement in his tone.

He was laughing at her. Perfect.

The cardboard flaps sprang back open again, and she felt the unwelcome heat of a blush. She turned to face him, placing her body between Zach and her underwear.

Behind him, she spied the open box of Sugar Bob’s. Three of the doughnuts were missing, transferred from the white cardboard and cellophane container to her hips around nine this morning.

Zach didn’t appear to have an ounce of fat on his well-toned body. She’d be willing to bet his breakfast had consisted of fruit, whole grains and lean protein. It was probably whipped up by his personal chef, ingredients imported from France, or maybe Australia.

He perched his briefcase on top of a stack of DVDs on her end table and snapped open the latches. “I’ve had my lawyers draw up our divorce papers.”

“We need lawyers?” Kaitlin was still struggling to comprehend the idea of marriage.

To Zach.

Her brain wanted to go a hundred different directions with that inconceivable fact, but she firmly reined it in. He might be gorgeous, wealthy and intelligent, but he was also cold, calculating and dangerous. A woman would have to be crazy to marry him.

He swung open the lid of the briefcase. “In this instance, lawyers are a necessary evil.”

Kaitlin reflexively bristled at the stereotype. Her best friend, Lindsay, wasn’t the least bit evil.

For a second, she let herself imagine Lindsay’s reaction to this news. Lindsay would be shocked, obviously. Would she be worried? Angry? Would she laugh?

The whole situation was pretty absurd.

Kaitlin anchored her loose auburn hair behind her ears, reflexively tugging one beaded jade earring as a nervous humor bubbled up inside her. She cocked her head and waited until she had Zach’s attention. “I guess what happens in Vegas sometimes follows you home.”

A muscle twitched in his cheek, and it definitely wasn’t from amusement. She felt a perverse sense of satisfaction at having put him even slightly off balance.

“It would help if you took this seriously,” he told her.

“We were married by Elvis.” She clamped determinedly down on a spurt of nervous laughter.

Zach’s gray eyes flashed.

“Come on, Zach,” she cajoled. “You have to admit-”

He retrieved a manila envelope. “Just sign the papers, Kaitlin.”

But she wasn’t ready to give up the joke. “I guess this means no honeymoon?”

He stopped breathing for a beat, and there was something familiar about the way his gaze flicked to her lips.

She was struck by a sudden, vivid memory, instantly sobering her.

Had they kissed that night in Vegas?

Every once in a while, she had a fleeting image of his mouth on hers, the heat, the taste, the pressure of his full lips. She imagined that she could remember his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against his hard body, the two of them molding together as if they belonged.

In the past, she’d always chalked it up to a fevered dream, but now she wondered…

“Zach, did we-”

He cleared his throat. “Let’s try to stay on track.”

“Right.” She nodded, determinedly pushing the hazy image out of her mind. If she’d kissed him even once, it was the worst mistake of her life. She detested him now, and the sooner he disappeared, the better.

She reached out her hand and accepted the envelope. “It only took us five minutes to get married, no reason why the divorce should take any longer.”

“Glad you see it that way.” He gave a sharp nod, and his hand went to the inside pocket of his suit. “Of course, I’ll want to cover any inconvenience.” He extracted a gold pen and a brown leather checkbook, flipped open the cover and glanced at her. “A million?”

Kaitlin blinked in confusion. “A million what?”

He breathed a sigh of obvious impatience. “Dollars,” he stated. “Don’t play coy, Kaitlin. You and I both know this is going to cost me.”

Her jaw involuntarily dropped a notch.

Was he crazy?

He waited expectantly.

Was he desperate?

Wait a minute. Was he desperate?

She gave her brain a little shake. She and Zach were husband and wife. At least in the eyes of the law. Clearly, she was a problem for him. She doubted the high-and-mighty Zach Harper ran into too many problems. At least, none that he couldn’t solve with that checkbook.

Huh.

Interesting.

This time, Kaitlin did chuckle, and tapped the stiff envelope against the tabletop. She certainly didn’t want Zach’s money, but she sure wouldn’t say no to a little payback. What woman would?

This divorce didn’t have to happen in the next five minutes. She’d be in New York for at least another couple of weeks. For once in his life, Mr. Harper could bloody well wait on someone else’s convenience.

She took a breath, focused her thoughts and tried to channel Lindsay. Lindsay was brilliant, and she’d know exactly what to do in this circumstance.

Then, the answer came to Kaitlin. She raised her brows in mock innocence. “Isn’t New York a joint property state?”

Zach looked confused, but then his eyes hardened to flints.

He was angry. Too bad.

“I don’t recall signing a prenup,” she added for good measure.

“You want more money,” he spoke in a flat tone.

All she really wanted was her career back.

“You got me fired,” she pointed out, feeling the need to voice the rationale for her obstinacy.

“All I did was cancel a contract,” he corrected.

“You had to know I’d be the scapegoat. Who in New York City is going to hire me now?”

His voice went staccato. “I did not like your renovation design.”

“I was trying to bring your building out of the 1930s.” The Harper Transportation building had infinite potential, but nobody had done anything to it for at least five decades.

He glared at her a moment longer. “Fine. Have it your way. I got you fired. I apologize. Now how much?”

He wasn’t the least bit sorry for having her fired. He didn’t care a single thing about her. The only reason he’d even remembered her name was because of the accidental marriage. And he’d probably had to look that up.

She squared her shoulders beneath the dusty T-shirt, determined to take this victory. “Give me one good reason why I should make your life easier?”

“Because you don’t want to be married any more than I do.”

He had a fair point there. The mere thought of being Zach Harper’s wife sent a distinct shiver coursing its way up her spine.

It was distaste. At least she was pretty sure the feeling was distaste. With any other man, she might mistake it for arousal.

“Mrs. Zach Harper.” She pretended to ponder, warming to her stubborn stance as she purposely slowed to note her half-packed apartment. “Don’t you have a roomy penthouse on Fifth Avenue?”

He clicked the end of his pen, slowly lowering it to his side. “Are you daring me to call your bluff?”