Название | Irresistible Attraction: Scenes of Passion / Midnight Seduction / Beyond Control |
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Автор произведения | Justine Davis |
Жанр | Зарубежные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Зарубежные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408910061 |
Her parents, of course, were appalled.
“You must know that we don’t approve.”
“I realize that, sir,” Matt said solemnly. “But I want Maggie and I’m afraid if she goes back home with you, she’ll never make up her mind.”
Hey. Maggie shot him a look, but he refused to look at her. The muscle in the side of his jaw was jumping, though. Matt was clenching his teeth to keep from laughing. He actually thought this was funny! She squeezed his fingers, wishing she actually had nails to dig into him.
Her father shook his head. “Well, decision making’s never been her strong suit,” he said ruefully.
They were talking about her as if she were a horse being sold or a child or a… a… houseplant.
“I can make up my mind quite easily,” she said hotly. “In fact, there’s absolutely no decision here. This is ridiculous and…”
And she stopped, suddenly realizing that if she said no, she’d end up going back home with her parents.
They were all watching her, her parents with anticipation, Matt with one eyebrow lazily lifted, his expression carefully bland. But his eyes were sharp and he was watching her as if he were trying to read her mind.
What would he do if she said yes? Wouldn’t that scare him to death? She smiled, imagining his frantic backpedaling as he tried to keep her mother from pulling out her Polaroid camera to snap an engagement photo to send to the society page of the Shore Line Times.
Matt watched Maggie smile and realized that she was actually considering saying yes. The shock value would be tremendous—it would blow her parents right out of the water. Come on, Mags, say it.
Except, God, he’d have to tell her the truth about where he’d been, what he’d been doing these past three years. If they were going to get married, he’d have to tell her all that, and more—Whoa, Stone, slow it down. This was fiction. This was acting. This was not real life.
Still, he leaned toward her. “Say it,” he whispered.
She stared at him.
“Say it,” he repeated. “Come on, Maggie. Marry me.” He slid off the couch onto his knees on the floor in front of her and brought her hand to his lips as the audience—her parents—watched in undisguised shock. “Please?”
Maggie couldn’t believe him. Oh, overacting! she wanted to shout. God, she hated improv because she was never really sure how the other actors wanted her to respond. Now, did Matt really want her to say yes, or did he want her to say no? Or was he too caught up in the drama of the scene even to think rationally?
Didn’t it occur to him what would happen if she actually said yes?
She looked down at Matt, still waiting on bended knee like some kind of fantasy husband-to-be. Damn him for making her wish this wasn’t just a game. She almost smacked him.
“This is silly,” she said. “Matt, get up off the floor. We have to tell them the real truth.”
Whatever he was expecting her to say, it wasn’t that. Matt covered a laugh with a cough. “The real truth.” He pulled himself back onto the couch. “Oh, you mean the real truth.”
She looked at him expectantly, innocently, waiting for him to take the lead. Which of course he couldn’t take since he had no idea what she had in mind.
She threw him a bone. “The Internet thing,” she said, “www.VegasWedding.com?”
He almost completely lost it, and he covered by kissing her. In front of her parents.
“God, I love you,” he said, with so much emotion in his voice, she almost believed him, too.
Her father cleared his throat. “What Internet thing?”
“You don’t have to go to Las Vegas anymore for a quickie wedding,” Matt explained to her parents, taking her cue and running with it. Were they actually going to believe this? “You just go online and visit the Web site, and you can actually get married in a virtual ceremony.” He kissed Maggie’s hand. “We did that last night.”
“Is it legal?” her mother asked.
“Absolutely,” Matt said. “They send the marriage certificate in the mail. It takes a couple weeks, though, because they, you know, laminate it first.”
Her father looked as if he were going to protest, and Maggie cut him off. “Dad, I’m twenty-nine years old.”
He nodded. “You are. I think your living here is a mistake, and I think rushing into marriage with someone you haven’t seen in ten years is also a mistake. We would like it if you came home. That’s what we came here to say. That and we love you.” He looked at Matt. “And if you hurt her, I’ll make you wish you were never born.”
He stood up, and held out his hand for Matt to shake, then gave Maggie a hug. “This is the biggest barrel of crap I’ve ever heard,” he whispered to her. “But your mother believes you. You just decide whether or not you’re going to marry this guy, and you do it fast, you hear me?”
Maggie nodded, and he kissed her cheek. Her mother hugged her, too, and then they were out the door.
Matt put his arm around her as they watched her parents drive away. “How about another kiss for show?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.
She elbowed him hard in the ribs. “You had your chance last night, babe,” she said. “Matt, how could you tell my parents that we were going to live together? Didn’t it occur to you that my mother might have a heart attack right there on the living-room rug?”
“And I’m telling you they weren’t going to believe that we could live here in platonic harmony,” Matt said, rubbing his side. “I can’t believe you came up with www.VegasWedding.com. It was beautiful—I wish I’d thought of that. You know, this was the best improv I’ve been in in a long time. Did you see their faces?”
Maggie glared at him. “That was no improv, Matt, that was my life. Now my mother thinks we’re married!”
“But it worked,” he pointed out. “You didn’t get pressured to go back home.”
“She’s going to want a look at our laminated wedding certificate,” she said. “Jeez! Laminated. Very classy, Matt!”
“I was thinking on my feet,” he said as she pushed past him into the house. “Give me a break!”
She turned back to him. “Give me the keys to your car.”
He went into the kitchen and came back with the keys to the Maserati. “Where are you going?” he asked as he handed them over. “Can I come along? After all, it is our honeymoon.”
“Shopping,” she said. “No. And stuff it.”
Eight
The sun was sinking in the sky by the time Maggie returned from the mall.
Matt was out on the front-porch swing. He watched as she unloaded one huge shopping bag after another from the car.
“Honey, I’m home,” she singsonged.
“Well, if it isn’t the little wife,” he said, coming to help her. “Thank God you’ve got your sense of humor back.”
“Nothing like a little shopping to ease the soul.”
“A little?” His arms were piled high with packages. “You’re going to be paying off your credit cards until you’re eighty years old.”
“Your credit cards,” she said smoothly. “We’re married now, remember?”
“Oh, good, I’ll keep that