Kathie DeNosky - His Marriage Pact

After Dallas pulled away and winked, she automatically touched her tingling lips. “That certainly sealed the deal.”

He leaned over and whispered, “There’s more of that to come if you want more of it.”

Yes, she wanted more. Much more than she should. “Now that we’ve made this official, what’s the next step?”

“I have a driver waiting outside the north entrance. He’ll take us back to the plane.”

The private plane that had whisked her to Houston a few hours ago to meet up with the groom following his appearance at the grand opening of his newest saddle shop. An elaborate aircraft that could pass for a flying motel with a high-class bar and sleeping quarters, of all things.

Dallas clasped her hand to guide her through the courthouse vestibule and when they stepped outside, Paris was shocked to find hoards of reporters milling around the steps outside. “What is going on?”

“They’re here for us,” Dallas muttered, followed by a few strong oaths. “Just keep walking and stay close to me.”

“Not a problem.” She had no intention of crawling into the lion’s den without a proper escort.

As soon as they started their descent, cameras immediately began to flash, film began to roll and some woman with red hair as big as Jenny’s started hurling questions at Paris. “How does it feel to be married to one of the most eligible bachelors in the state?” she asked as she thrust a microphone in Paris’s face.

Before she could respond, Dallas practically dragged her toward the black limo waiting at the curb as he shoved his way through the crowd. She could swear someone tugged at the hem of her dress right before the chauffeur helped her into the car and away from the chaos.

Dallas slid in bedside her and immediately began to loosen his tie. “Dammit, I wanted to avoid all this nonsense. I’d like to know who the hell tipped them off.”

“That’s anyone’s guess. Maybe someone in the courthouse when you obtained our marriage license. By the way, how did you manage to circumvent the normal waiting period?”

He shrugged out of his beige jacket and laid it on the seat beside him. “I know people. Obviously people that can’t be trusted.”

She imagined he did know a lot of people in high places. She also imagined him taking off the white tailored shirt, his best pair of jeans and cowboy boots, and laying her down on the leather seat. Maybe she’d request he leave the boots on. Maybe she should exit the car now before she found herself in a lot of trouble. As if she wasn’t already. “You know, marriages are a matter of public record, Dallas. I’m sure that’s how the media learned about us.”

“We haven’t even been married fifteen minutes. Someone at the courthouse must’ve leaked the info. Probably an employee who wanted to make a buck selling a story.”

Curious over how far the news had traveled, Paris pulled her cell from her silk bag and did a quick internet search of their names. In less than five seconds, she had her answer from a renowned celebrity gossip site. “Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe this headline. Sexy Former Rodeo Superstar Dallas Calloway Marries Longtime Girlfriend Paris Reynolds.”

“Don’t know why you’re so shocked,” he said with a grin. “Some women think I’m sexy. My truck, too.”

He was just too darned cute not to tolerate his wry wit. “I’m referring to the longtime part. Talk about a misprint. It should read His Girlfriend of Three Days. Or more accurately, His Business Partner.”

He scooted a little closer to her, providing another heady whiff of his clean-scent cologne. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t get hold of Jenny for an interview. She’d say something like that to make the situation more socially acceptable.”

“I suppose she would do that since she’s definitely all about decorum.”

“She’s also still mad she wasn’t invited to witness the wedding. So is Maria.” After his cell began to ring, he pulled it from his jeans’ pocket and said, “Speak of the devil.”

“Which one?”

“Jen.”

When he simply stared at the phone, Paris wondered why he was hesitating. “What are you waiting for?”

“I’m tryin’ to decide if I want to speak to her.”

“Of course you do. It might be an emergency.”

“Yeah, her pantyhose could be shot or her hairdresser canceled her appointment.”

“Answer it, Dallas.”

“Fine.” He swiped the screen and grumbled, “What’s up, Jen?” followed by a few yeahs and couple of yeps and one big deal. Then he added, “I’ll take that into consideration, and I don’t give a horse’s rear what he thinks. And yeah, I forgive you but only because he’s your kid. Talk to you later.”

“What was that all about?” Paris asked after he disconnected.

Dallas forked a hand through his hair and sighed. “It seems Jen decided to call Fort and tell him we were getting married and where. When she saw the story at five a couple of minutes ago—”

“Why does our marriage warrant coverage on the news channels?”

He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “She was watching some tabloid channel, not the national news. But be prepared for that to happen. Weddings, babies and divorces of the rich and infamous equal good ratings.”

Apparently their surprising little wedding was worthy of major coverage, thanks to the notoriety of the man sitting beside her. The man who happened to legally be her husband. “I knew you were popular with the ladies, but I had no idea losing your bachelor status would have such an impact on the general public.”

He shrugged. “No one thought it would ever happen. Anyway, Fort evidently called the press just to piss me off. Jen says a lot of reporters are camped out near the ranch. Maria’s doing her best to run them off, hopefully not with a shotgun. Like I suspected, Jen also said it was her idea to claim we’ve been a couple for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Three years, and she’s real proud of the plan.”

The plan could be a major problem. “Unfortunately that would make me an adulteress since I’ve been divorced less than two years. I hope that doesn’t come back to haunt us.”

He reached into the built-in cooler centered between the opposing rows of seats and withdrew a bottle of high-dollar champagne. “If it does create problems, we’ll deal with it. In the meantime, let’s celebrate our nuptials.”

Celebrating wasn’t foremost on her mind. Not when she continued to worry that somehow someone might dig up the dirt from the debacle at her former firm. But she couldn’t concern herself with something that happened to be beyond her control. Besides, if Dallas found out, she’d simply explain she’d only been guilty of being too gullible. “Nice touch,” she said after he poured them each a glass of the bubbly and offered one to her. “But I wouldn’t peg you as a wine drinker.”

“Normally, I’m not, but I think we deserve a toast.” He held the glass aloft. “To an arrangement that will allow us to both win in the end.”

As long as the end didn’t include an emotional hijacking, she’d drink to that. “To winning,” she said as she touched the flute to his.

After taking a few sips, Paris leaned back in the seat, looked out the window and noticed the slow-moving traffic. “It’s going to take forever to get to the airport.”

Dallas downed the rest of the champagne and grimaced before setting the glass aside. “That’s what happens in Houston during rush hour. Guess we should have planned better.”

The situation could work to their advantage. “Since we have the extra time, we should probably use it to get to know each other.”

He scooted closer, draped his arm over the back of the seat and grinned. “I’m game.”