The Manning Brides: Marriage of Inconvenience / Stand-In Wife. Debbie Macomber

to commit the rest of our lives to—but neither of us found what we were looking for. So when we stood before Judge Webster …” He hesitated as though he’d lost his train of thought.

      “What we were pledging … the seriousness of our decision hit us hard,” Jamie finished for him.

      “Exactly,” Rich agreed, nodding.

      “Then you felt it, too?” She stopped walking and turned to face him, her heart in her throat. Rich had experienced the same reaction she had while they were repeating their vows. He, too, had felt the solemnness of it all.

      “I did … very much,” he whispered. “A wedding ceremony is a sobering affair. If you didn’t understand it before, I want to make it clear now. I’m committed to you, Jamie. That commitment will be the same for the baby once he’s born.”

      “Or she,” Jamie murmured, gnawing on her lower lip. Rich had said as much before, only she hadn’t understood it. He planned to provide financial support for their child and emotional support for her. He’d also insisted they marry so the child would bear his name. But she hadn’t thought of that as a commitment until he’d put it in those terms. A sense of contentment stole through her.

      They continued walking side by side, toward the elevator, which was at the far end of the corridor. Rich matched his stride to hers. He was several inches taller than Jamie, and every once in a while, his shoulder would brush against her. His touch felt intimate and special. Jamie was sure he didn’t intend or expect her to feel anything at his touch, but she did. She couldn’t help herself.

      “It’s going to be all right, isn’t it?” she asked when they stopped to wait for the elevator.

      “Not if our parents find out, it won’t be,” Jason answered for Rich.

      “They won’t anytime soon unless you tell them.” There was a clear warning in Rich’s words.

      “Hey,” Jason said, raising his right hand. “I’ve already promised not to say a word—to anyone. Mom and Dad would have to torture it out of me.”

      Rich chuckled and slowly shook his head. “All Mom would need to do is offer you homemade bread fresh from the oven.”

      “Maybe so. But be aware that the fur’s gonna fly once she learns she missed out on another one of her kids’ weddings.”

      “She’ll adjust,” Rich said, looping his arm over Jamie’s shoulder.

      “Are you as full as I am?” Rich asked, leaning back against the upholstered circular booth. His hands rested on his flat stomach and he breathed in deeply.

      “I couldn’t eat another bite if I tried.”

      Rich had made reservations for their wedding dinner at the restaurant on top of the world-famous Space Needle. He’d planned every aspect of their wedding-day celebration, from the matinee tickets he’d purchased for a musical at the Fifth Avenue Theater, to a special dinner.

      “What did Jason mean when he said you kidnapped him?” she asked. Not that it really mattered, she thought, basking in the pleasures of the most memorable day of her life.

      Rich reached for the wine bottle and replenished both their glasses. “To be honest, I did kidnap him. Why … is another story. I’m not sure myself, especially when I knew he’d try to talk me out of this.”

      “He did try, didn’t he?” That went without saying.

      “Not at first.” Rich arched a brow as though he was still a bit surprised by that. “He actually seemed excited—until he heard the full details.”

      Jamie groaned. “You told him … everything?”

      “He’s my brother.” Rich picked up his wineglass and sipped. “When I first told him about you and me, he was thrilled. He said he’s always admired you and felt I couldn’t have made a better choice.”

      “He said that?” Jamie couldn’t help feeling a little incredulous. She barely knew Rich’s older brother. Oh, they’d met on several occasions, but the longest conversation they’d ever had was at Christy’s engagement party, and that couldn’t have lasted more than five minutes. Jason had been miserable in a suit and tie, and kept edging his finger along the inside of his collar. Actually, Jamie had spent more time that night talking to Jason than she had to Rich. Her now-husband had escorted some blonde to the elegant affair, and the woman had stayed glued to his side all evening.

      A surge of irritation flashed through her. She’d never been keen on Rich’s choice of girlfriends. She swore he could spot a bimbo a mile away.

      He attracted them—and he attracted her.

      That was a brand-new perception, a brand-new awareness.

      Until he’d kissed her in the judge’s office, Jamie had never thought of Rich in a physical way. He’d always been attractive, too handsome for his own good. But what she’d experienced earlier that afternoon had nothing to do with his looks. Instead, it had a whole lot to do with sensuality.

      Rich made her feel vulnerable. Exposed. Powerless. And yet … powerful, too. Everything, all the emotion, all the sensations, had come rushing toward her at once.

      Afterward, he’d been so concerned. So understanding. Allaying her fears, answering her doubts. He’d dried her tears and made her laugh. He’d turned this into the most special day of her life.

      What he’d said about how they’d each searched for someone to love was true. Jamie had wanted to be married for so many years. She’d hungered for that special relationship and all that went with it, only to be disappointed time after time.

      Their dinner check arrived, and while Rich dealt with that, Jamie finished her wine. As she raised the glass to her lips, her gaze fell on the diamond ring on her left hand. It was a simple design, a small diamond set in the center of an antique gold rose. When Rich had first mentioned it, she hadn’t felt right about wearing it, but the fit was perfect, and now that it was on her finger she wished she didn’t have to take it off.

      “I suppose I should drive you home.”

      Jamie’s heart soared at the reluctance she heard in his voice. She wasn’t any more eager for this day to end than he was.

      “I suppose,” she said with an equal lack of enthusiasm.

      “You have to work tomorrow?”

      Jamie nodded. “You?”

      He nodded, too.

      They stood, and Rich helped her on with her coat. His hands lingered on her shoulders, and he drew her back against him and breathed in deeply. “Thank you.”

      “For what?” Jamie twisted around, and the restaurant noises that surrounded them—the laughter and conversation, the clinking of silverware on china—seemed to fade away.

      “For marrying me,” he whispered. “For agreeing to bear my child.”

      Jamie pulled the straight skirt over her hips and clipped it to the hanger. She hung it in her closet along with the jacket, then wandered into the kitchen as the teakettle whistled.

      Sitting at the table in her full-length slip, she propped her nylon-covered feet on the opposite chair and cradled the mug of hot tea in both hands.

      “I’m married,” she said aloud, testing the words.

      They came back sounding hollow, as hollow as she felt. She hadn’t wanted Rich to leave—not so soon. It was barely ten. But when she’d offered him an excuse to stay, he’d turned her down.

      So this was her wedding night. In her dreams she’d created a magical fantasy of champagne and romance. See-through nighties and wild, abandoned passion. If this was a traditional marriage, she’d have all that. Instead, she’d chosen something else. Something far less.

      She should be happy. Excited. In love.

      She