Mollie Molay - Married By Midnight

The knock sounded again, this time louder.

“No such luck,” Max muttered. “I guess we’ll never know who it is unless I answer the door.” He had a bare leg out from under the covers when he realized he couldn’t reach his clothes. The fact that they were in a tangled mess on the floor surprised him. He was normally an organized man, a man who never gave in to impulse. Something had happened last night to change him.

“Maybe you’d better close your eyes for a minute.”

“I will not!”

He raised his eyebrows in a sardonic question and pointed to the jumble of clothing. “My clothes are down there.”

Kelly moaned and slid under the blankets.

Max dashed for his trousers, put them on and made for the door before some lunatic broke it down. “Who’s there?”

“Reggie Bennett, the assistant manager of the hotel, sir. You and Mrs. Taylor checked in too late last night to receive the usual amenities that come with the bridal suite. I have them for you now.”

Max felt himself blanch as he shrugged into his shirt and shoes. Mrs. Taylor? Bridal suite? So, last night hadn’t entirely been a dream. Like it or not, he had married Kelly.

Max groaned. He was a man who enjoyed the company of women, but marriage had been the farthest thing from his mind. And the last thing on his carefully plotted life’s agenda.

He took a deep breath. Even with those disturbing memories of a marriage ceremony, he wasn’t exactly ready to believe this marriage business. If he’d gotten married, surely he would have had to have had a marriage license and a marriage certificate, wouldn’t he?

After making sure Kelly couldn’t be seen from the door, he held it open a crack. The assistant manager met his gaze with a broad smile. “Our apologies, sir. The management of the Majestic Hotel would like to correct our unfortunate oversight.”

Oversight? Max’s heart plummeted when he realized daylight was shining through the shuttered windows. Somehow, he’d misplaced a large chunk of the day. And, in the interim, he must have somehow acquired a bride and, heaven help him, consummated the marriage.

“May we come in now?”

Max took another look behind him before he opened the outer door. A room-service waiter rolled in a linen-covered cart and positioned two chairs next to it.

Entranced, Max studied the gaily decorated cart. As Bennett had announced, there was a wedding breakfast in all its glory, including a bottle of champagne in an iced silver container and pats of butter in the form of hearts. A cut-glass vase held a dozen white roses. To his increasing dismay, a congratulatory message was prominently propped against the vase.

What further blew his mind were the silver and gold balloons in the shape of wedding bells that floated behind the cart.

“Our apologies for the delay in bringing your breakfast, Mr. Taylor. After what happened last night, we weren’t sure you and Mrs. Taylor were up yet.” A humorous glint came into Reggie Bennett’s eyes as he regarded Max’s open shirt. “If there’s anything else you would like, please don’t hesitate to ask.” He left with a broad smile.

After what happened last night? A dim recollection of shouting people and flashing cameras floated through Max’s mind. What worse could possibly have happened?

“Max, are they gone?” Kelly called impatiently.

“Yes, but not before they left us breakfast,” he replied. His stomach churned as he eyed the bottle of champagne on ice. Champagne had been his downfall last night. He heard Kelly mutter under her breath. She had to be upset if she’d heard Bennett. For a woman who firmly refused to believe she was married, what would she do when she actually saw the cart?

“I’m not that hungry,” Kelly said. “I’ll get dressed and we can decide what to do.”

As far as Max was concerned, discussions had to wait. What he had to do first was find out how and when he’d actually acquired a wife. He eyed the outside door for a quick getaway. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he announced and rushed out the door.

When Kelly heard the door close, she peered into the next room. The sight of the floating bell-shaped balloons brought her marching into the room.

Then she saw the bridal veil on the coffee table. If this was intended to be a joke, and if Max was in on it, it wasn’t funny.

Married? No way! Max might believe they were married, but she knew better. Right now she needed a long, hot bath and time to plan some course of action to end this nonsense.

Music began to play when she opened the door to the bathroom. She was rendered speechless by a giant Jacuzzi strategically placed in front of a mirrored wall. Tropical plants hung from a skylight above the tub. A shelf held jars of bath oils and colorful soaps in the shapes of flowers. There were assorted brushes to wash one’s back and, to Kelly’s growing discomfiture, bottles of assorted perfumes and ointments clearly intended for rituals of love. Her middle warmed at the sensual implications of a jar marked Aromatic Body Butter.

Visions of Max rubbing her body with the scented butter, and her mental reactions to the idea of his unclothed body, were more than she could bring herself to safely contemplate. Thank goodness he wasn’t here to see the Arabian Nights scene in front of her.

To her relief, on a more practical level, fluffy white bathrobes, embroidered with “Mr.” and “Mrs.,” waited on a padded bench.

She turned on the water and sat down on the edge of the Jacuzzi. One by one, she picked up the tiny colored balls of bath oil beside the faucet and dropped them into the water. The scent that began to waft through the room turned her thoughts to sensual games. Games she would have wanted to play if she were actually honeymooning with the man she loved.

The bathroom was obviously an elaborate setting for a seduction scene, she thought wistfully as she slid into the water. But the truth was that, in spite of last night’s apparent foolishness, she wasn’t out to seduce anyone. Max Taylor least of all. As soon as he returned, she intended to tell him so.

Muttering to himself, Max made his way to the hotel’s executive offices on the first floor. How could he be a married man if he didn’t even remember applying for a wedding license?

He shook his head. He wasn’t ready to believe he was a married man anyway. And as for Kelly, she didn’t seem all that jazzed up about the idea of being his wife, either.

As for spending last night in bed together—he rechecked his wallet to reassure himself the condom was gone. Marriage to a stranger was bad enough, but a baby?

With emotionally distant parents like his own, his childhood had been nothing to rave about. As a result, he wasn’t sold on fatherhood. He didn’t want to start a family until he was good and ready. He wasn’t ready yet.

He skidded to a stop in the center of the ornate hotel lobby. The pale blue walls were covered with reproductions of well-known landscapes. Live trees and flowering shrubs grew in the center of a courtyard fronting the check-in desk. A waterfall fell gracefully into a small stream and disappeared beneath rocks. Sunlight streamed in from skylights. The effect was that of a pastoral spring scene. Soft, romantic music played in the background. The new hotel was unlike any Las Vegas hotel he’d ever been in. No wonder he’d been carried away by the romantic ambience last night.

The scene looked vaguely familiar. Good, he thought, this might be an excellent place to fill in the gaps in his memory.

“Must have been some party,” he remarked to a housekeeping-staff member tugging potted plants into place.

“You ought to know.” The man chuckled. “You and your lady sure were star attractions last night.”