The CEO's Accidental Bride / Paper Marriage Proposition: The CEO's Accidental Bride / Paper Marriage Proposition

“How about that,” he couldn’t help but tease.

“Shocked the heck out of me,” she returned, doing a double take, seeming to note he’d shed the jacket and tie.

He sat down on the other end of the couch. “Then, cheers.” He lifted his glass.

She allowed a small smile, which made her prettier than ever. She leaned toward him, holding out her glass to clink it against his. The motion gave him a glimpse of her cleavage, and he was forced to drag his gaze away from her soft breasts.

They each took a sip.

Then her smile grew, and an impish dimple appeared in her right cheek. “Tough day at the office, dear?” She mimicked what was obviously a wifely voice of concern.

Something inside him responded warmly to the banter. “You know—” he paused for effect “—the usual.”

“Is this weird?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“Yes.”

“Because it feels weird. I mean, on a scale of one to, well, weird, it’s weird.”

“Did that make sense inside your head?”

She took another drink, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m sure you got the gist of it.”

“I did. And I agree. It’s weird.”

“We’re married.” She said the words in a tone of wonder.

“Yes, we are.” Zach took a healthy swig from his own glass. He’d never been married. And even if he had, he couldn’t help but doubt anything could prepare a man for this particular situation.

She paused, and then her voice went soft. “I’m not trying to ruin your life, you know.”

He didn’t like it that she seemed so vulnerable. It was better when she was acting tough and feisty. Then, it was easier to view her as a combatant. And he was beginning to admit fighting with Kaitlin was much safer than joking with her.

He struggled to put a hard note back in his voice. “I guess it was the blackmail scheme that had me confused.”

Her green eyes were clear, open and honest. “I’m not looking to gain anything.”

He made a show of skeptically raising his brows.

“I’m looking to set things right,” she assured him.

He tried to sound doubtful. “Is that how this is playing out inside your head?”

“Once I’ve earned my way back into the good graces of my profession, you’ll be home free. I want a career, Zach, not your company.”

He had to admit, he believed her. He understood she was trying to make her own life better. Her methods weren’t the most noble from where he was standing. But he did accept the fact that he was collateral damage.

She leaned forward and flipped to the signature page of the document. “Do you have a pen?”

“Sure.” He rose and crossed to the small rosewood desk that held a telephone and a reading lamp.

“I’m meeting Lindsay for dinner,” Kaitlin explained from behind him. “I don’t want to be too late.”

“I have a date,” he lied, extracting a pen from the small desk drawer. He’d call Dylan and get the number of the pretty helicopter pilot just as soon as Kaitlin left.

“You’re cheating on me?”

Her outburst surprised him, but when he turned, he saw the laughter lurking in her jade-green eyes.

“Yes,” he answered easily, not about to rise to the bait. “I’ve been cheating on you since the wedding.”

“Men,” she huffed in pretend disgust, folding her arms across her chest, accenting her breasts.

Focusing beyond her lovely figure, he shrugged an apology on behalf of his gender as he crossed the room. “What can I say?”

She accepted the pen, bending her head to sign the papers. “Well, I’ve been faithful.”

He waited for the punch line.

It didn’t come.

“Seriously?” he asked.

She finished her signature with a flourish, declining to answer.

But he couldn’t let it go. “You haven’t had sex with anybody since Vegas?”

“What do you mean since Vegas.” She sat up straight, handing the pen back in his direction. “Who do you think I had sex with in Vegas?”

He accepted it, feeling a twinge of remorse. “I didn’t mean it that—”

“The only person I was with in Vegas was you and we didn’t—” The amusement suddenly fled her eyes, replaced by uncertainty. “We, uh, didn’t, did we?”

Okay, this was interesting. “You don’t remember?” He might not have total recall of the entire night’s events. But he knew they hadn’t made love.

Then the vulnerability was back, and she slowly shook her head. “I barely remember the wedding.”

He was tempted to string her along, but quickly changed his mind. The cursed vulnerability again. It made him want to protect her, not mess with her mind.

“We didn’t,” he assured her.

She tilted her head to one side. “Are you sure? Do you remember every minute?”

Their gazes locked for a couple of heartbeats.

“I’d remember that.”

“So, you can’t say for sure …”