Married By Midnight. Mollie Molay

the maid of honor was seated with her striking emerald-green bridesmaid’s dress drawn up over her knees, a leg poised and an embarrassed look on her face. In her arms, she held the bridal bouquet. From the eager expressions on everyone’s faces, it was obvious to him, as the lucky garter-catcher, that he was expected to slide the intimate object over her shapely slender leg.

      Max could see the bride standing next to the groom clapping in time to the music. The amateur four-piece band was playing not too well but enthusiastically.

      With the drummer executing a brisk roll of the drums, the master of ceremonies motioned Max forward and pointed to the redhead’s upper thigh.

      Max froze.

      What was he to do now?

      A whirlwind of thoughts raced through his mind, including making a quick getaway. He should have been pleased. After all, this was the first time he’d won anything more than a few bucks on a lottery ticket. Good enough, he muttered to himself as he gazed at the sculptured leg, but why did the prize have to be something that might test his manhood? He hesitated, trying to come up with a good reason to decline the honor. He couldn’t. The groom was his cousin and he was the best man. Family honor was at stake. Short of causing a scene, he realized he had to be a good sport and enter into the festivities.

      He took a deep breath, raised his glass to his lips and gulped the last of the champagne punch for courage. Fortified, he handed the glass to his nearest neighbor and moved inside the circle of clapping wedding guests. Up close, the leg’s owner looked watchful. He didn’t blame her. Although they were part of the wedding party, they’d only seen each other for the first time at the brief rehearsal last night. What he was about to do was pretty intimate.

      He knelt on the one good knee he had left after his recent skiing accident, carefully removed the lady’s dainty shoe and slowly slid the garter over her stockinged foot, up her silken leg and to her knee. He felt himself flush when he became more aware of her charms than he cared to admit. He stopped and started to get to his feet.

      “No, no, no,” the wedding guests chanted.

      “Up, up, up, up,” the master of ceremonies instructed, sending Max back down on his knee and firmly pointing the way.

      Max took another deep breath, glanced apologetically at his fellow victim and slid the garter upward another inch.

      “More, more, more,” urged the crowd.

      Max silently muttered his frustration and cautiously moved the garter up another inch, and another. His body warmed with each move. The innuendos thrown at him weren’t helping his discomfiture a damn bit. By the time he’d reached her warm upper thigh, he’d had more than any red-blooded man could be expected to handle and he wasn’t going to take it anymore. He enjoyed a joke as well as any other man, but since he didn’t know the lady he was touching so intimately, this was too much. He muttered his apology and hoped for the best.

      Chapter One

      The pressure of a creamy, petal-soft feminine shoulder cuddled against his chest shocked Max out of his dream. A dream where a copper-haired enchantress was brushing a hand across his bare shoulder, and hazel-green eyes shone with invitation. Disoriented, Max allowed his gaze to travel down a slender arm to a sculptured waist and an enticingly curved hip that was partially covered by the white satin bedsheet.

      Max froze. The last thing he remembered clearly was the ridiculous garter ceremony at his cousin’s wedding. But never in his wildest imagination had he anticipated a moment like this.

      The unexpected but pleasant discovery explained why he’d awakened satiated, at peace with the world. He leaned over and took a closer look. The intriguing view caused his body to respond in ways he was embarrassed to contemplate.

      One thing for sure, Kelly O’Rourke, the twenty-two-year-old maid of honor at last night’s wedding and owner of the most beautiful pair of legs he’d ever seen, was the last woman Max expected to find in his bed.

      He leaned back against the pillows and tried to remember how and why he and Kelly were in bed together.

      The winter wedding between his cousin, Troy Taylor, and DeeDee Connor, and the tumultuous celebration that had followed last night had been one for the books. He could barely recall what had happened after he’d caught the bride’s garter and slid it up the maid of honor’s leg. After that, events had passed in a blur.

      Maybe it had been because he’d caught the last flight from Boston to Las Vegas. Upon arriving, instead of catching up on his sleep, he’d gotten caught up in a hasty wedding rehearsal, Troy’s bachelor party and the ensuing wedding festivities. Going without sleep for thirty-six hours and operating on sheer momentum, as he was, little wonder he’d been done in by the potent champagne punch.

      He eyed Kelly cautiously. She was bound to be frosted when she awakened.

      The last thing he did remember clearly was catching the bridal garter. He remembered sliding the lace confection over Kelly’s warm and slender leg while the other wedding guests egged him on. His frank admiration for the silk-clad leg he held had seemed harmless enough to him, but not to Kelly. To his surprise, the warning look in her eyes had held a message. Somewhere along the line, a dare had been cast and, heaven help him, accepted.

      One step at a time, he told himself as he struggled to remember what had happened next. One step at a time. The rest of the story was bound to come to him if he relaxed and let the answers flow when they were ready.

      He took a deep breath and surveyed his surroundings. He was pretty sure he was in the Las Vegas Majestic Hotel where the Taylor-Connor wedding and reception had taken place. But he was surprised he’d booked anything as lush as these surroundings. Obviously he had; his suitcase sat beside the bed.

      With its mirrored ceiling and white satin linens the bedroom was part of a luxurious two-room suite. A trail of masculine and feminine shoes led to the bed. His clothing was thrown haphazardly over a chair and an emerald-green bridesmaid’s dress, along with a lacy bra and matching bikini, was flung across the foot of the bed. Silken hose were draped over a bed lamp like a victory flag.

      Through the open folding doors, he saw a sitting room with all the accoutrements of a posh lodging. A giant-screen TV, a man-size upholstered couch and matching love seat filled the center of the room. A bridal bouquet lay wilting on the coffee table, alongside a short wisp of a bridal veil. He remembered Kelly catching the bouquet, all right, but what was DeeDee’s bridal veil doing here?

      Puzzled, he looked at the couch in the center of the next room. He seemed to remember he’d gone to sleep there sometime last night. Why had he chosen the couch when he had a king-size bed waiting for him? He glanced down at his sleeping companion. The bigger question was when and how he had wound up in bed with her.

      He fought a growing uneasiness as he tried hard to recall what had actually happened last night. Slowly, the mental clouds began to clear. He recalled Kelly’s warning look as he’d slid the garter up her leg. He also recalled her look that dared him to a point where he’d been driven by an uncommon impulse to change the warning to a look of desire.

      He gazed at the rumpled bed and the clothing strewn haphazardly around the room. From the looks of things, he’d obviously accomplished his goal only too well. Too bad he didn’t remember the details.

      But couch or no couch, good intentions or otherwise, it didn’t take much imagination to figure out he and Kelly had ultimately fallen into bed together. The evidence was obvious enough to make him wonder how he could possibly have drawn a blank after what surely must have been a memorable night.

      He gazed down at Kelly’s ivory and pink-tinged skin. Wrapped in a white satin sheet, her shoulders bare, she looked every bit as enticing as she had during the garter incident. And, heaven help him, in his dream.

      Her lips, curved in a smile, were moving soundlessly. He leaned over to listen. The smile and the possible meaning behind it sent a wave of guilt through him.

      After all, from