Jackie Braun - Inconveniently Wed!

In addition to more substantial topics, such as his reasons for running for public office and her plans to open her own cake shop, their conversation had leaned toward the ridiculous. They’d hashed out the lyrics to The Flintstones theme song, agreed on which Stooge was the funniest—Curly, by far—and debated the merits of “innie” bellybuttons versus “outies.”

Yet Jonas was perfectly serious now when he said, “I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun. I’ve enjoyed talking with you.”

“I’ve enjoyed talking with you, too.”

“This isn’t like me.” He fiddled with the edge of his cocktail napkin, rolling it up until it stayed curled. “I don’t usually strike up a conversation with a stranger in a bar, much less kiss her.” He glanced up. “It’s nuts, but I feel like I know you so well, and I don’t even know your last name.”

“It’s Warren.”

“Mine’s Benjamin.”

“Well, Jonas Benjamin, for the record, I don’t normally let strange men kiss me in a bar.”

“I’m glad you made an exception.”

The creases in his cheeks reappeared when he smiled, and her stomach took a funny tumble. “Same goes.”

A long moment passed before he said, “Technically, we’re no longer strangers. So, if I were to kiss you again…” He left the thought unfinished, but his gaze was now focused on her mouth.

Anticipation began to build. Their last kiss hadn’t been nearly enough to satisfy her curiosity, or anything else.

Just as Serena started to lean forward, a hand slapped a little black folder down on the table between them. She and Jonas sat back abruptly. Their waitress had appeared from nowhere.

“I’ll take your bill up whenever you’re ready,” the woman said.

“Gee, I think that’s our cue to leave,” Serena murmured, realizing for the first time that the bar was nearly empty.

“It’s almost closing time. You probably should be getting back to your hotel,” Jonas said. He pulled out his wallet and laid some bills on the table. Afterward, he stood and pulled out her chair—a gentlemanly gesture the likes of which she’d rarely experienced. But then the whole evening had been a trek through uncharted territory.

Once they were outside, instead of heading in the direction of McKendrick’s, Jonas stopped, stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He looked nervous—hopeful when he said. “You know, I’m kind of hungry.”

Her heart fluttered. “Now that you mention it, so am I.”

“Maybe we could grab a bite before we call it a night? I know this great retro diner within walking distance of here that makes the best cheeseburgers around.”

“I love cheeseburgers.” She slipped her hand into his. This time she was ready for the sparks the contact generated and she reveled in them.

“Crazy, huh?” he said.

Serena didn’t have to ask what he meant. “Outrageous—and, believe me, I know outrageous.”

The pair of them were so different—he classic Brooks Brothers and she unapologetically offbeat. Yet they were in tune with one another. So much so that a couple of hours later, when they started back from the diner, their strides matched and their arms swung in unison.

They stopped in front of the Bellagio’s illuminated fountains. Back where it all began, Serena mused. Somehow she knew her life was never going to be the same. As they watched the water shoot up Jonas turned. He’d kissed her several times since first leaving the Bellagio, each kiss longer and more enticing than the last. Even so they’d left her yearning for more. She couldn’t get enough of him, and not just physically. This went beyond being turned on.

Instead of kissing her now, he took her in his arms and danced with her in the moonlight, ending with a dip that left her nearly parallel to the ground. His unexpected turn as Fred Astaire charmed her, and left them both laughing, but afterward, when he held her in his arms, his grasp was just this side of desperate. She understood perfectly. Over his shoulder she watched the water arc in the air, every bit as enchanting as their time together.

“Tonight has been magical,” he said, as if he could read her mind.

Serena hummed in agreement. “I wish it didn’t have to end.”

“Does it?”

His answer surprised her. She pulled back far enough so she could see his face. “Doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” The way Jonas frowned gave the impression he rarely found himself without an answer. Yet he struggled for one now. “You…us…on the surface it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Not much, no. But someone recently reminded me that appearances can be deceiving.”

Serena laughed, but he was still frowning. “When I saw you I had the strangest feeling that I knew you—that I’d been—”

“Looking for you,” she supplied as her heart bucked out a couple of extra beats. “What happens now?”

“Normally I’d say goodnight, give myself a few days to think and put things in perspective.”

“I return to San Diego in less than twelve hours.” She pulled out of his embrace and despite the evening’s heat felt chilled immediately. “Got another idea?”

He frowned again. “Yes, but it’s…” He shook his head and looked a little dazed. “It’s crazy.”

A grin tugged at Serena’s lips. “I’m always up for crazy.”

He didn’t smile. He swallowed, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob. “This qualifies as insane, even if in a totally weird way it makes perfect sense.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”

He inhaled deeply. “You could stay.”

Serena barely heard his words over the pounding of her heart. “Stay? In Vegas?” she said, to be sure she hadn’t imagined the offer. After Jonas nodded, she asked, “For how long?”

He did smile now, and his expression was that of a gambler letting his fortune ride on the roll of the dice.

“How about forever?”

WHAT had she done?

Serena woke in the strange hotel room with a start. Clutching the sheet to her chest, she jackknifed to a sitting position and turned her head. Even knowing what she would find, she felt her mouth gape open at the sight that greeted her.

Oh. My. God!

It hadn’t been a dream. Jonas Benjamin was splayed out on his side of the bed beside her—shirtless and then some. Since his eyes were closed, she allowed her gaze to follow the length of his spine down his nicely muscled back. The sheet interfered with her view when it reached his hips, but what she couldn’t see now she clearly remembered seeing—and touching—last night. With her memory working overtime, Serena became uncomfortably aware of her own nakedness.

It wasn’t the vivid recollections of their passionate lovemaking that had her panicking. It was what had happened just prior to it. Jonas’s right hand was tucked beneath the pillow, but his left one was clearly visible, and the third finger sported a cheap band identical to the one on hers.

They were married!

The magic of the previous night leaked away, leaving stark reality in its place. She, the woman who couldn’t commit to anything, had stood in a tacky Vegas chapel and promised to love, honor and cherish for a lifetime a man she hadn’t even known for a day.

It was only in the past year that she’d committed to a hair color, going back to her natural red after trying out shades that ran the gamut from Goth black to punk purple. Or that she’d committed to a job. She’d worked full-time decorating cakes at the upscale Bonaventure Creations in La Jolla for a solid eleven months—a record on her part, especially since she still loved it. But marriage? She couldn’t do marriage—even if for a brief time last night it had seemed like a really good idea.