6. Jack
Glancing at my watch one more time, I try not to show my agitation that Amber isn’t here with me right now.
I jokingly mention getting married, and she laughed at the quip, but the more I think about it, my plan is perfect.
Though I’m not sure she’ll fall for it.
She is, of all things, a divorce lawyer. She sees the pitfalls of marriage every single day. Of all the people in the world I could ask, she is the one less likely to agree.
I grin when she breezes into the hotel lobby and smiles at me. She looks beautiful with her glossy hair flowing down her back and a slight glisten on her face that makes her look angelic.
I dressed casual but smart. I have on a stylish pair of charcoal trousers and an ivory button-down shirt, with the top two buttons casually left undone because I like the way she stares at the gap that shows my neck.
Amber is dressed in a yellow dress with long sleeves, the skirt mid-thigh, showing off her amazingly toned legs. Her high-heeled sandals are strappy and suede, letting me see the same pink nail varnish on her dinky toes that are on her fingernails.
My breath catches in my throat looking at her, not only her stunning face, or her hair that I want to wrap around my fist, but it’s the way she looks at me with her beautiful dark hazel eyes, like she is already mine.
This will only be a deal, Jack. Get over whatever you’re feeling.
I swallow as I stroll over to her, kiss her, and say a quick hello to her friends, then grab her hand as we rush out of the lobby.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and I can’t stop myself from blurting out, “Did you have a think about marrying me?”
“Ah, you still think I need to get married before I have sex,” she says and laughs at me.
“Not exactly,” I say, ushering her into the car I’ve hired.
I wait until the car is moving, so she can’t rush back out. “But... remember I told you about my grandfather and that he won’t hand the business over to me until the day I marry.” I hesitate for a moment, wondering if this is the right thing to do. Deciding I have nothing to lose, I carry on.
“And as that’s never going to happen in my real life, I’ll pay you enough money to pay off your debts and have a successful life, say one million dollars. And for that, all you have to do is marry me, make it look believable to my friends while I’m here, and then you’ll never see me again.”
She almost chokes on her saliva. “Are you crazy? I thought you were joking,” she hisses. “Why don’t you marry an American girl?”
“That’s too complicated. This plan is better. Marrying a girl who lives on the other side of a large ocean,” I say and grin.
It’s ideal. Someone who doesn’t know me and lives in a different country. I’m doing what my grandfather wants.
It’s perfect.
“I’ll fill out the paperwork.” I don’t tell her it’s already done as my mouth curves up on one side at the pure brilliance of my plan.
“I don’t know.” She isn’t persuaded as quickly as I expected by the money.
I need to try harder. “Just think about it,” I say as the car pulls in front of the restaurant I booked.
She doesn’t answer, but I can see her mulling over the idea in her head. She’s told me she has debts, but she’s also a lawyer, and in a couple of years, she’s going to be better off than most people her age.
I’m not sure it’s perfect any longer.
I take Amber for lunch at a lovely restaurant overlooking the views of the Strip, and we watch a comedy show while we eat.
I can’t help but smile at how she laughs at the jokes, but then I can’t take my eyes off her.
I know this is fake, but for a silent moment, it feels so fucking real, it takes my breath away—she takes my breath away.
“Why me?” she asks.
She needs to hear this as much as I need to hear it from my own lips.
“Because you live in another country. I fulfill my grandfather’s wishes.” I smile. “And you’ll be one million dollars richer, and can also win your bet and be no worse off. I’ll send the divorce papers through as soon as the business is handed over to me.” I hesitate a moment, watching her face. “A few months in a fake marriage, at worst a year. And you’re comfortable for the rest of your life.”
Her eyelashes flutter with rapid blinks. She pulls her plump lower lip into her mouth.
My eyes don’t stop looking at her teeth as they dig deep, before her tongue swipes out and licks over the indent.
Fuck. I want that mouth wrapped around my cock and quick.
Married or not, she’s going to be in my bed tonight.
Amber looks at me with an arch of an eyebrow and a cheeky glint in her eye. “Aren’t you supposed to get down on one knee?”
“Oh, Amber, I can do that,” I say, dropping to my knee and listening to the surrounding gasps. I take hold of her hand. “Amber Greyson, will you make me the happiest man in Vegas and agree to be my fake wife?”
She bursts into laughter, holding her chest in mock surprise. “That is so romantic, and as no one has ever proposed to me before, fake or real. Why the hell not?”
And I’m staring into her eyes as she laughs, wondering why I want this so much.
I stand up and realize I don’t have a ring.
Urgent rectification required.
I pull her to me and do what the crowd wants... I kiss her like she’s made me the happiest man in the world.
Her face heats by the second, a beautiful pink glow over her cheeks, and there’s something about her coyness that brings a smile to my lips.
“My future wife, everybody!” I shout.
“Lucky man, but she’d be luckier if she married me!” a man yells in the background.
Amber taps her finger on her chin. “I have more offers, darling. You better make it quick before I get snapped up.”
I arch an eyebrow and give her a grin.
But something inside me already knows this fake marriage is going to be the worst and the best thing in my life. One night, one year, the sooner I’m out of Vegas, the better.
“Unless you’re already changing your mind,” she says.
“Oh, Amber, you don’t know what’s on my mind,” I say.
“Does it end with something like ‘Oh Jack, yes?’” she says, winking.
I burst into laughter. Hell, it’s only until my grandfather hands over the business. But I already want more. “It does.”
“Then it’s a yes,” she says with a grin. “It’s not like I’m ever planning on being an actual wife. At least not for a long time.”
Fuck. Fuck.
Shit, she said yes.
Oh, my god. I’m getting married.
“But you have to send me the papers for the divorce the moment your grandfather approves. I’ll sign the documents and send them back by email. I don’t want any complications.”
I nod. Pulling myself back to reality, because somewhere out there, I started to think this was real. “Of course. You won’t be put out in any way other than your signature on a piece of paper.”
After she unfolds a napkin, she leans into her purse and takes a pen. And writes.
PRENUPTIAL AGREEMENT BETWEEN JACK CLARK AND AMBER GREYSON.
Both parties will leave the marriage with everything that is theirs.
….………………….. Jack Clark
…………………….. Amber Greyson
She signs and dates her signature, then she pushes it over to me. I stare at her.
She shrugs her shoulders. “I’ve got nothing, but I expect you have, so add anything you want to it and sign it.”
I hesitate as I sign it.
“Keep it,” she says, scoring with the pen through the empty white space and laughs. “And I’ll win the who-can-do-the-craziest-thing-in-Vegas bet.”
I wait patiently for her to finish her lunch, then I pay the bill.
“We need to go,” I say, taking her hand.
I’m relieved she finally agrees because I’d already completed the paperwork online and we’re supposed to pick up the documentation for the ceremony. I’ve also arranged an appointment with a jeweler at four o’clock.
“What type of ring would you like?” I ask as we look through the jewelry collection.
“I don’t need a ring. You should get one to show your grandfather,” she says.
“You need a ring.”
“I’m not wearing a ring. I said I’d marry you to help you out,” she says, her shoulders back, standing defiant.
“Just while you’re in Vegas. My grandfather will ask the Gold brothers if it’s genuine and we just need to make them think it is.”
“Oh, I’m not too sure anymore. This is getting deeper than it should,” she says.
I sweep her into my arms and pull her close to me. “It’s just a wedding ring, a plain band, nothing more,” I say and press my lips to hers. “We’ve got the documentation. Let’s get our rings and then we’ll see another show.”
I smile and kiss her again. My hand on her thigh slides upward, only to glide back down, and for a moment, I revel in the feel of her soft flesh. “And if you aren’t loving me by the end of the evening, we’ll call it off.”
She sucks in a breath, holding it, her eyes troubled as she stares into mine. “If I’m loving you, I’m running away, never mind marrying you. Love is too complicated.”