Allison Leigh - Vegas Wedding, Weaver Bride

But the last thing Quinn needed was to be caught grinding his fist into a worm’s face. He didn’t need an assault charge haunting him, no matter how well deserved his actions felt.

He strode through the casino until he located the elevators and went up to Delia’s hotel suite. Banged on the door. “Delia!”

Relief hit him when she finally yanked open the door. She was clearly dressed for the swimming pool in a bikini and a flimsy cover-up that didn’t cover up a damn thing. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, obviously.” He sounded annoyed and didn’t care. Because he was annoyed. Not only at Mike’s stunt, but also with her. “What the hell are you walking around like that for? You’re practically naked.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she propped her hand on her hip. She was dark-haired like him but that was about the end of the similarities. “I’m a long way from naked and I’m not exactly sixteen anymore, so can the protective growl!”

He would always feel protective where Delia was concerned. Mostly because she was the baby of his family. But also—and he ordinarily said it with love—she was kind of a ditz.

Their father was a pediatrician. Their mother was a retired psychologist. Their other sister, Grace, was doing her residency at Duke. Much to his father’s chagrin at the time, Quinn hadn’t taken the educational route, but he’d still made a career out of his military service and gotten a hell of a lot of education along the way.

Delia, though? She seemed entirely happy coasting through life, never settling on anything or anyone for any length of time.

“Did you see Lansing doctor my drink last night?”

She pursed her lips. “Maybe.”

God help him. He wanted to shake her. “Yes or no?”

“Good grief, Quinn. Keep your shorts on.” She picked up an oversize shoulder bag sitting on a chair. A floppy hat and a rolled towel were sticking out of it. “Of course I saw. He put some drops in Penny’s drink, too.”

“And you switched drinks.”

“So?”

He wanted to yell at her. But Delia never responded well to shouting. She just crumpled up in tears and shut down. “Are you crazy? I suppose you just drank it, too. Did he spike anyone else’s?”

She glared. “No, I did not drink it,” she snapped. “I dumped them both in a plant by the table! And no, I didn’t see him do anything else.”

“Did it occur to you to say anything? He could have been putting anything in our drinks. I can’t even remember coming back to the hotel last night.” But that wasn’t entirely accurate, either. Because already he had images hovering on the edges of his pain-addled brain. Vivid city lights. Penny’s blue gaze. A glossy limousine interior...

“When was I supposed to tell you, Quinn? When you were busy feeling up Penny on the dance floor? Besides, the guy was all hands! By the time I got that dealt with, you and Penny had already disappeared!”

“You could have found a way,” he said through his teeth. “You have no idea what a mess this has caused.”

“Well?” She spread her hands, clearly waiting. “What mess?”

He clenched his jaw, remembering his promise to Penny. “Lansing’s been a lost cause for ten years. But you’re my sister. You’re twenty-seven years old. You see something wrong, you speak up!”

“At least I was more aware of what was going on than you were.” She snatched a small vial from her pool bag and thrust it at him. “I stole it from his jacket while he was trying to stick his tongue down my throat. You’re welcome.”

He exhaled roughly, rubbing his hand down his face as he swore. At her. At Lansing. At the fact that he’d found himself married to a woman who was more appalled at the idea than he was. But mostly at himself. Because Delia was right. If he’d been more aware, none of this would have happened. “Thank you,” he muttered.

Delia sniffed, clearly unimpressed as she shoved past him with her pool bag and strode away.

“Perfect.” He opened the nearly empty vial and took a sniff, which told him nothing. He twisted the cap back in place and pocketed it.

He realized he didn’t know the number of Penny’s room as he headed toward the elevator. He used the house phone to call the front desk and, thanks to the beauty of dropping his granny’s name, received the information he needed.

He took the elevator down to Penny’s floor and knocked on the door. Given the way the day had gone so far, he didn’t expect her to be there, so when the door opened a second later, he couldn’t hide his surprise.

At least that was the excuse he used while he adjusted to the sight of her. She was wearing a black swimsuit with an opaque black scarf tied around her hips. The sleek one-piece was a lot less revealing than Delia’s bikini had been, but disturbed him a hell of a lot more.

It wasn’t easy to believe he’d wedded Penny, but it was all too easy to understand why he’d bedded her.

No amount of artificial stimulants needed on that score.

“I see you went shopping for a swimsuit.”

Her hair was still pulled back in a ponytail—dry now—and she had a pair of sunglasses hiding her eyes. “Yes.”

“Can I come in?”

She hesitated.

He led with what he considered the most critical info. “The guy Maddie mentioned at lunch—Lansing. He drugged our drinks last night.”

Her lips parted. She slowly pushed her sunglasses onto the top of her head.

“With what?” She backed away, pulling the door open wider so he could enter.

Her hotel room was just a regular hotel room. Nice, yeah. But nothing at all like the fancy-dancy suites the rest of them had. It was also neat as a pin. The bed perfectly made because she hadn’t even spent the last night in it. “Supposedly it’s some herbal crap.” He showed her the vial.

She paled. “What kind of herbal crap?”

I don’t know, but I know someone who can test it. He pushed the vial in his pocket again and put his hand on her forehead. The skin was cool. Velvety smooth. “How are you feeling? A headache? Any nausea? Problems breathing?”

She shook her head, pulling away from his touch. “No. Well, a headache. But I just attributed that to...you know.” She turned away from him.

The back straps of her swimsuit were comprised of an intriguing series of strings crisscrossing over the small of her spine in a way that only emphasized her hourglass figure. And even though he couldn’t see beneath the scarf, he had no problem imagining her long legs and curvy butt being shown off to perfection...

He cleared his throat and looked away.

She was pacing in the space between the bed and the window. “We’ve all heard to watch out for that sort of thing, but to have it actually happen—” She plopped on the side of the bed. “Has this happened to you before?”

He sighed and went to sit beside her. “No.” He folded her hand in his. “I’m sorry.”

“Because your friend is an ass?”

“He was kicked out of the service ten years ago. And he was never my friend. But yeah.”

She looked at him. Her brows were pulled together over those oddly luminous eyes. “You didn’t know. None of us knew.”

“Except Delia.” He let go of her hand, pushing off the bed. “She saw him do it. And if she’d said something—” he yanked the marriage certificate out of his back pocket and tossed it on the bed beside her “—maybe we wouldn’t have that to deal with.”

She got off the bed as if she didn’t want to be anywhere near the certificate. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“That’s what you’re worried about? No, I didn’t tell her. I told you I wouldn’t say anything to anyone yet and I haven’t.” He gestured at the paper. “The guy who signed it is registered with the county to perform marriages. I’ll have to keep checking back to get proof it’s legal, but we’ll know that within ten days. That’s how long he has to file the paperwork.”