Winter Wedding In Vegas. Janice Lynn

      “You’re the least stupid person I know.”

      Taylor just groaned.

      “Obviously, there was something between you two last night that triggered the ‘I do’s,’” Nina pointed out in her ever-optimistic way. “You married a superhot guy who you had really great sex with and now he’s your husband. Why not quit worrying about the details and the pending legal ‘I don’t’s and just enjoy your honeymoon?”

      If only life were that easy. “You don’t mean that.”

      “Why wouldn’t I? You never do anything for yourself, Taylor. You’re always working or doing things for Gracie. For the next twenty-four hours don’t worry about anyone but yourself. The act is done. You’re married and on your honeymoon with a hunk. Take advantage of that, of him and his skills. What’s going to happen in the future is going to happen regardless of whether or not you grasp hold of what life’s presented to you on a silver platter. Or, in this case, what Santa’s wrapped up in a pretty bow. I say go for it, work off some long-overdue steam, and make some memories before going your separate ways.”

      Ugh. Her friend almost made sense. Almost. “You’re not helping.”

      “Sure I am. I’m just not saying what your determined-to-be-a-prude ears want to hear.”

      “I hate it when you’re right.”

      Nina squealed again. “So, you’re going to do it? You’re going to let your hair down and rock Dr. Sain’s world?”

      She wasn’t so sure she could rock his world, but he had seemed to enjoy the night before. They had been hot.

      “I’m not sure I know how to let loose anymore,” she admitted, positive it was true. She enjoyed life, but all her free time did revolve around Gracie. “And I didn’t say you were right that I should let my hair down. Just that what you were saying wasn’t what I wanted to hear.”

      “You want me to tell you that you should hightail it back home and file for divorce without indulging in some fun with your husband first?”

      File for divorce. Pressure squeezed her heart. People in her family didn’t divorce. They didn’t get pregnant out of wedlock and they didn’t marry virtual strangers in Vegas and they didn’t divorce. That was her family.

      But she would be three for three because she would be filing for divorce. To pretend otherwise was ridiculous. She and Slade had suffered lapses of judgement, clouded by lust and alcohol. That much she could admit to. She’d wanted him last night. When he’d kissed her, she’d melted and forgotten everything but him.

      “I’m waiting for an answer.”

      Taylor’s grip on her cell phone tightened. “I’m a mother, Nina. Regardless of what I want, I can’t just go around indulging in fun whenever I want to. It’s not that I don’t want to indulge in fun, because I do.” Oh, how she wanted to imbibe more of Slade. “He was amazing. An affair with him would be amazing, but I need to end this without doing anything that might complicate things.”

      “Too late. Things are already complicated.”

      Taylor’s gaze shot to the open hotel room door and the man who stood there. Crap. When had he opened the door and how much had he overheard?

      “Sorry, Nina, but I’ve got to go.” Her gaze latched on to Slade’s and she refused to look away even when that’s what she wanted to do. How was it he made her feel so on edge with just a look? “My husband just walked in.”

CHAPTER FOUR

      FRUSTRATED, SLADE STARED at the woman lying on the bed. Clicking off her phone, Taylor slowly rose to a sitting position. Which was exactly where he’d left her.

      She’d left the hotel room, though. He’d gone to a presentation, had sensed her sneaking into the meeting room and had turned to catch her sliding into a seat in the back of the auditorium. When the meeting had ended, he’d glanced her way. She’d been gone.

      He’d forced himself to go to all the programs he’d marked on his agenda, even though he’d had a difficult time staying focused on what the presenters had been saying. At noon, he’d had an interview with Grandview Pharmaceuticals, the company that owned Interallon and that was renowned for their headway in the fight against cancer.

      John Cordova, the older man who’d interviewed him, had commented on how they needed someone dependable, someone able to make long-term commitments, to see things through, to fill the position. The man had then congratulated him on his recent marriage.

      Slade had withheld the fact that his marriage wasn’t a long-term commitment but a mistake. He’d gotten the impression that a divorce so quickly following his marriage wouldn’t have won him any brownie points in Cordova’s eyes.

      His phone call with his father played through his head. His father was going to be so disappointed in him when he told him the truth.

      His temple throbbed ever so slightly. He found himself wishing he could lie on the bed beside Taylor, talk to her about the interview, about his goals and dreams, about his mother and how much he missed her, about the concern in his father’s voice and how he hadn’t had the heart to tell him that his marriage was over before it even started either. He wanted to talk with her the way they had the night before because talking to her, being with her, had felt so right.

      Too bad Taylor was staring at him as if he were a serial killer.

      Last night had been different. When she’d looked at him, he’d seen something more. That something more had triggered some kind of insanity. She’d wanted to have sex with him, and that knowledge had shot madness into his veins. She’d challenged him with her condition about marriage and, gazing into her eyes, he’d lost his mind and the ability to walk away from the temptation she’d offered.

      He had the feeling that before all was said and done, his insanity was going to cost him a lot more than he’d bargained for.

      She cleared her throat, reminding him that he had been staring at her for way too long.

      “I need to change for the dinner program.”

      A semiformal conference farewell that was more socializing than anything else.

      “That’s fine.” She watched him from behind her big glasses, which he’d really like to lift off her face so he could better read her expression.

      “Not really, but I guess for the next day we don’t have a choice. The hotel is sold out and I don’t plan to move to another hotel.”

      She nodded as if she’d already known. Perhaps she’d called the front desk and asked.

      Slade had never been an awkward kind of person. Usually, he could come up with something funny to say, something to smooth over any situation. This wasn’t any ordinary situation, though. This was him standing in a hotel room with his wife, whom he didn’t want to be his wife and neither did she want to be his wife.

      He raked his fingers through his hair then, shrugged.

      “I’ll just grab my suit and change.” He opened the closet door and removed a garment bag. “I’ll hurry in the bathroom so I won’t interfere with you getting ready. If you’re going, that is.”

      “I’m going.”

      He nodded and turned toward the bathroom.

      “With you.”

      He paused, but didn’t turn around. “Why?”

      “As far as the world is concerned, we’re happy newlyweds. If we go separately, we’ll have to answer too many questions. I don’t know about you, but I’ve dealt with enough questions about our marriage already today.”

      Slade looked up at the ceiling, counted to ten, then turned. “That’s my fault.