Shut Up And Kiss Me

“Sure.” He watched her walk away, an easy thing to do. She had a nice walk, but the suit jacket hid a lot. He was glad she was changing into something else.

He followed her and stood in the doorway, watching her turn into another room down the hall and close the door behind her. He closed his door and glanced at his watch. He had calls to make to people in D.C., plans to change. Now when would he go home? Probably tomorrow, whatever they decided.

Marry Savannah Clay. The thought was staggering. He’d come to Texas thinking he would get a small inheritance, see old friends and then return to his life. Instead, here he was in the home of a woman he’d known less than twenty-four hours, contemplating becoming her husband and the guardian of another man’s baby. Talk about being sucker-punched, he thought—and he’d helped Savannah deliver this blow.

A marriage of convenience to Savannah, even if they were in that mansion and if the marriage was a paper one and if the union only lasted briefly. Could he do it? She was aggressive, stubborn, accustomed to getting her way, outspoken. And sexy. Suppose that got mixed up in the equation? No danger of falling in love, though. Maybe they were too much alike. Both of them were strong-willed people with explosive tempers.

He showered and changed into jeans and a blue knit shirt, pulling on clean socks and loafers. His thoughts churned with the possibilities and hazards before him. He never for an instant thought she would take him up on his offer of a paper marriage. He was still astounded that she had, yet he could certainly see how it would get her what she wanted.