A Merger by Marriage

Three

On her way across Fontaine Chic’s lobby, Violet decided it was okay if a bride felt excited and slightly terrified on her wedding day. Especially if the groom was sexy and enigmatic and the decision to marry was somewhere between logically conceived and wildly impulsive.

Wearing an off-white lace dress she’d bought on impulse that morning from one of the hotel’s shops, Violet’s heart double-timed to each click of her heels on the black marble floor. She clutched an overnight bag and a briefcase filled with Tiberius’s files on the holders of Stone Properties stock. Against her better judgment, she’d let JT talk her into spending their wedding night together at his house. In separate bedrooms, of course.

She wasn’t worried that he’d take advantage of her. He’d already pointed out that she wasn’t his type. That declaration still stung. With his reputation as a player, she hadn’t suspected he had a type beyond female, single and young. She was all those. So what about her didn’t appeal to him?

Was she the wrong height? Too thin? Too fat? Not pretty enough? Not sexy?

Violet slammed the door on curiosity. It didn’t matter if she was his type or not. Their marriage was a business arrangement. She needed to remember that. And to guard against demonstrating the way her body came alive whenever he drew near.

A bright blue BMW convertible stood at the ready in the hotel’s circular driveway. JT leaned against the car’s hood, wearing a dark gray, almost black suit and white shirt with a blush-colored tie that emphasized his potent charisma. He hadn’t spotted her yet so she had a private moment to observe his relaxed posture and utter gorgeousness as he joked with one of her bellhops. Thanks to anxiety, her muscles hadn’t been responding properly to the signals from her brain for the last hour; now they were positively spastic.

He was still laughing when their gazes met. The power of his smile knocked the breath from her lungs. Wanting his eyes to light up with pleasure at seeing her, she was crushed at how fast he sobered.

“Right on time, I see.” He stepped forward to take her bags.

Was he used to waiting for the women he dated? They probably took longer to primp and fuss than she had. In truth, her nerves had prevented her from applying eyeliner with a steady hand so she’d just dusted her lids with neutral eye shadow, buffed her cheekbones with blush and used a little powder to keep down the shine. It didn’t occur to her that she hadn’t applied lipstick until his gaze locked on her mouth.

A bride shouldn’t attend her wedding in such a state. She dug in her purse, but all she found was some lip balm. “Damn,” she muttered. “I don’t have any lipstick.”

“You don’t need any.” He opened the passenger door for her and gave her plenty of room to get by him. It was almost as if he was avoiding her. But why would he need to do that?

“I’m not sure I feel completely dressed without it.”

“I assure you, you’re completely dressed.”

Was that humor she saw in his expression? Oh how she wished she could read his mind. It would be nice to know how the man she was about to marry thought, but it wasn’t likely to happen now, or ever. He would make certain of that.

“I wonder what else I forgot to pack,” she mused, her brain on autopilot. “I had some last-minute things to take care of with my assistant. I was afraid I was going to be late.”

“And that I might change my mind?”

“The thought occurred to me.” She slid into her seat and watched him circle the car. “What about you? Did you think I might chicken out?”

“No. I think you are the most dependable person I know.” His statement made it sound as if he knew more about her than their limited association had led her to believe. He slipped behind the wheel and started the engine.

Violet regarded his strong profile, admiring the precise cut of his jaw and his ridiculously long eyelashes. “What makes you say that?”

“From your reputation around town. Whenever you make a commitment to a cause or a promise to a friend you come through. No matter what.”

As the car rolled toward South Las Vegas Boulevard, Violet put her hands to her cheeks and found them hot with embarrassment. “I don’t do more than anyone else.”

“And then you rarely take credit for all the good things you do.” The light turned green as they approached it and JT was able to turn onto the strip without stopping. “It causes people to take advantage of your generosity.”

Was he trying to warn her that this is what he was doing? If he was, it was too late. She was already committed to their goal.

“You make me sound like a sap.”

“I was trying to pay you a compliment.”

“A backhanded one, maybe. You’re a dependable doormat.” She made a face. “That’s a fine way to talk about your bride-to-be.”

An impatient sound erupted from him. “In the future I’ll remember that flattery makes you prickly.”

“See that you do. I prefer honesty to sweet talk.” She stared at him in silence until he’d stopped at a light and looked her way. “Are you going to have a problem with that?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. Just think of me as a fellow businessperson and we’ll get along just fine.”

JT merely nodded his agreement.

Ten minutes later, they swung into the Tunnel of Love Chapel. It wasn’t Violet’s first trip through the tunnel. Her best friend from high school had tied the knot here the day after graduation and two short months before baby Cory was born. JT, however, looked like he’d never seen anything like the blue ceiling adorned with cupids and stars.

He stopped the car before a booth with a sign that read “The Little White Wedding Chapel Drive Thru Window,” and they filled out the paperwork for the marriage license. Getting married in Las Vegas was a simple matter. Maybe too simple? Time for second thoughts came and went in the blink of an eye. As the opening words of the wedding ceremony began, a strange buzzing filled her ears.

Was she really marrying JT Stone? Violet glanced from the man framed by the booth window to JT. Her lips twitched uncontrollably. As first JT then she repeated the vows spoken by the minister, Violet was overwhelmed by the dreamlike aspect of her wedding. She didn’t feel attached to the body sitting in the car beside JT. And she didn’t recognize her voice promising to love and honor him. It wasn’t until JT pulled out two platinum rings and she felt the cold metal slide onto her finger that she crashed back to earth.

She had only a second to scrutinize her ring’s antique setting. The setting was square, the diamond round, the corners filled in with ornate filigree. Violet guessed the stone to be over two and a half carats. Smaller round diamonds flanked the center stone. He slipped the ring on her left hand. The instant she realized it fit, all her agitation disappeared and she was struck by the rightness of what she was doing.

The minister interrupted her thoughts. “Now the bride.”

JT handed her the other ring, this one embossed with waves and swirls. Repeating the vows that symbolized love and commitment, Violet slipped the ring onto JT’s finger. She couldn’t look him in the eye. Her wild idea to marry JT so she could use her stock to put him in charge of his family’s company was on the verge of becoming legally and morally binding.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the minister proclaimed.

Violet’s heart had been erratic since JT had agreed to marry her. Now it was positively aflutter. They’d done it. For good or for bad, there was no going back.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Mouth dry, Violet waited for her first kiss from JT. Her stomach had been in knots for the last several hours since they’d agreed to get married. How would he kiss her? Would it be passionate? Romantic? Would he sweep her into his arms and steal her breath or would he woo her with slow, sensual kisses? Either way, she knew it would be perfect.

She’d never dreamed he’d catch her chin in his fingers and plant a quick kiss at the corner of her lips. Lost in a fog of disappointment, she automatically went through the formalities that followed and accepted the congratulations of the witnesses with a heavy heart.

And then the car was rolling out of the Tunnel of Love Chapel and emerging into the noise and lights of Las Vegas once more. While JT negotiated the traffic on his way to the freeway, Violet stared at the ring on her hand. How had he gotten a set of wedding rings on such short notice? And such unique ones at that.

“It’s my grandmother’s,” JT said as if reading her mind. “And this is my grandfather’s.” He held up his left hand. “I drove to the ranch before picking you up.”

Rendered speechless at the significance of wearing a family heirloom, Violet gaped at him. Harper would laugh at her for believing that jewelry held the energy of the wearer, but what else could explain the tranquility that came over her the instant she’d put on his grandmother’s ring? They’d married without love. She didn’t deserve to be wearing something so dear.

“Is something wrong?” he prompted.

“We could have bought rings at the chapel.”

“Why, when these were collecting dust in my safe?”

“But it’s your grandmother’s ring.”

He eyed her. “And I trust that as soon as it’s no longer necessary, you’ll return it.”

“Of course.” It was beginning to annoy her that he wasn’t getting the significance of the jewelry he’d just pledged his troth with. Heaving a sigh, Violet decided to let it drop. In a few months it would be back in his safe where it belonged.

As the car streaked through the Nevada night, the adrenaline rush she’d been riding for the last two days began to fade. Her confidence waned as well. She was now married to a man who was for all intents and purposes a virtual stranger. And with the strength of his deflector shields, he was likely to stay that way no matter how delicately she probed. Which she really shouldn’t do.

What she had to remember was that despite the marriage vows they’d just exchanged, theirs was a union of expediency. Mutual benefit. JT got the chance to reclaim his family’s business. She would finish what Tiberius had started and preserve the stock’s value.

It was a business arrangement. He would resist her efforts to dig around in his private thoughts in an attempt to get to know him better.

“Now what’s bothering you?” JT quizzed.

“Nothing, why?”

For the last half hour they’d been heading north out of town on I-25. His sixty-acre ranch sat just beyond the outskirts of the city. At first she’d resisted being away from the hotel on such short notice, but since Tiberius’s death, she’d been working herself hard and could really use a night off.

“You haven’t said a word in fifteen minutes,” JT said. “It’s not like you.”

“Was it crazy, what we just did?”

“Completely.” He exited the freeway and turned left onto a two-lane highway. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No.” And she was surprised at how strongly she felt about staying the course. “It’s all going to work out. We just need to get the last three percent Tiberius had been working on before the next stockholders’ meeting.”

JT nodded. “One way or another, we can be divorced before fall.”

Her stomach fell at his eagerness to be rid of her and she chided herself for reacting so foolishly. That was the deal they’d made. She had no right to wish for something else.

“Then we’d better get to work immediately,” she said. “I brought all the files from his desk at the house. He was about to approach eight more shareholders. Four of the leads look promising.”

“I’ll look at them first thing in the morning.”

His use of first person singular wasn’t lost on her. Before she returned to Fontaine Chic tomorrow, she was determined to make him understand that this undertaking was going to be a team effort. She’d married him and was determined he would not do battle with his father alone.

“This is going to work, you know.”

He shot her a dour look. “Are you always this optimistic?”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“It’s not bad, but I’m not sure it’s realistic. Don’t you ever worry?”

“Not about the future.” She lifted her face to the wind streaming off the windshield. “Why bother? It’s a blank slate, full of possibilities.”

He didn’t reply and she tried to be comfortable in the silence that filled the space between them once more. But the unfinished conversation itched like a case of hives.

“All the brooding you do in the bar every night. Tell me what good it does you to worry about things that haven’t happened?”

“It’s not the future that concerns me, but the past. Things I’d like to take back, do differently, but can’t.”

Delighted that JT was on the verge of a revelation, she prompted, “Such as?”

“Nothing I feel like talking about.”

And just like that she was shut down. Violet heaved a sigh and lapsed into silence. What a puzzle he was. She knew his childhood hadn’t been one to brag about. His father’s ambition. His mother’s retreat into alcohol and drugs. Emotional injuries he’d suffered at a fragile age had turned him into a wild teenager. When JT had first arrived in Las Vegas, Tiberius had warned her to stay away from him. He was not a bird with a broken wing or a kitten who’d been struck by a car. He was a grown man who only knew how to use people and cast them aside.

Tiberius’s initial opinion of his nephew had been right on, but Violet suspected it wasn’t the whole picture. Curious about the Stone family, she’d conducted an internet search and discovered what sorts of trouble a party boy from Miami could get into. Although her contact with him had been limited these last six years, she didn’t think he was the type to act out without cause. But whatever motivated him was locked deep inside and given the firm set of his jaw, likely to remain so.

“So you have a hard time letting go,” she said. “How can you think that’s good for you?”

“Reliving past events helps me avoid similar situations in my future.”

When Violet considered her life, she decided she could probably spend a little time learning from her experiences. How many men had she dated who’d needed her to be their cheerleader or their psychologist or their financial advisor or their life coach? Too many. And here she was doing it again. Only this time she’d gone too far and had actually married someone.

JT turned down a long driveway bordered by landscape lighting and stopped the car in front of a massive stucco-and-stone prairie-style house. Curved planting beds held desert plants and tropical flowers. Their round lines softened the home’s square architecture.

“This is definitely worth the commute,” Violet said as she exited the car. The covered walkway to the front door was flanked by pillars covered in square stone and lighted by sconces. The effect was elegant and welcoming. “I can’t get over how quiet it is.” For a girl who’d practically grown up on the strip, the silence was a bit unnerving.

“Wait until morning. The view from the living room is what sold me on the property.” He collected her bag from the trunk and gestured for her to precede him toward the front door.

The house continued to impress Violet as JT gave her a quick tour. From the expansive two-story foyer he led her into the combination living room-dining room. Such large spaces could seem cold and uninviting, but the coved ceilings, inset lighting and desert tones made it very homey. In the living room, sliding glass walls opened out onto a wide patio. The gourmet kitchen was almost as large as her suite at the hotel and contained all restaurant-quality appliances as well as a large wine chiller.

“I wish I knew how to cook,” Violet said, gliding her palm along the center island’s cool granite.

“You don’t?” JT had fetched a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses. He popped the cork and filled both flutes.

Violet accepted the champagne he handed her. “Just the basics. Not well enough to do justice to all this.” She was proud of herself for standing her ground as JT stepped into her space and held up his glass.

Finding out that Tiberius had left her the stock. Her wild proposition to JT. The quick drive-through wedding that followed. And now, being alone with JT in his house. So much had happened. She was feeling a little exposed and emotional. Primed to do something stupid like demand a far better kiss than the one he’d deposited on her in the Tunnel of Love.

“To our successful merger,” JT declared, touching his flute to hers. Crystal chimed in the large room.

“To getting Stone Properties away from your father.” Violet drank sparingly. The man before her was a heady concoction. She didn’t need to add alcohol to the mix.

“It’s after one. Do you want me to show you to your room?”

“So I can do what?” Violet quizzed, walking toward the breakfast nook’s bay windows. “Pace for hours? I don’t know about you, but I rarely get to bed before three.” She spied a turquoise pool behind the house. “Can I use that?”

“As of twelve-fifteen the house became half yours. You don’t need to ask.”

Violet gasped, all thoughts of a moonlit swim forgotten. “Oh, no. That’s not what we agreed to. And when we get divorced, we’ll just go our separate ways—I don’t want half of your house.”

“Maybe we should renegotiate our deal. I might need to demand alimony in the divorce settlement.”

“Why would you need alimony?”

“Because if our plan fails my father will surely kick me out of the family business and the way he’s running things, the stock won’t be worth much.” He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “While you will be worth millions as Fontaine’s CEO.”

Because she couldn’t tell if he was poking fun at her or not, Violet refrained from commenting on her chances of winning her grandfather’s contest. “I never imagined that I would end up supporting you,” she replied. “Perhaps we should get an annulment—”

“While we still can?” JT interrupted, his silky voice spreading shivers along her skin.

“Stop kidding around.” She tried for lightness, but a hint of anxiety crept into her tone. “Just because we’re married and alone in this house on our wedding night...” Violet trailed off. What point was she trying to make?

“Doesn’t mean that we’ll fall prey to our basic urges,” JT finished.

“Exactly.”

“Even if those urges are fueled by champagne and curiosity?”

Violet set her glass down and dismay sparked when she realized it was empty. “I think it’s time you show me the bedroom. My bedroom,” she corrected, feeling her cheeks heat. “Where I’m going to sleep. Alone.”

JT picked up her bag and gestured back the way they’d come. “It’s upstairs.”

Violet attributed her lightheadedness to the champagne, refusing to believe that she was overwhelmed by the thought of spending the night alone with JT in his house. Was his room way down the hall from hers or a convenient few steps away?

Get a grip. You’re not a virgin at your first frat party. You’re a successful businesswoman and this man is a colleague. Keep your head and everything will be fine.

“Here you are.” JT opened a door and gestured her inside. The large room contained a queen-size bed with matching cherry nightstands, a triple dresser, and a small seating area in front of a gas fireplace. He set her overnight bag on the bed and returned to where she stood just inside the bedroom door.

“This is nice. Thank you.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you. If this wild idea of yours works, I’ll be able to save my family’s company. And that’s a debt I can’t repay.” JT leaned down and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Good night, Violet. I’ll make sure I have green tea ready for you in the morning.”

He knew that she didn’t drink coffee? She vaguely recalled having a tea versus coffee discussion with him long ago. And he’d remembered.

“That’s nice of you. And one more thing.” Before she considered the wisdom of her actions, Violet lifted on tiptoe and coasted her palms along JT’s massive shoulders. Shoving aside rational thought, she tunneled her fingers into his hair and murmured, “You didn’t give me a proper kiss at our wedding.”

“Then let me rectify that right now.” He lowered his lips to hers.

Her breath stopped. Every nerve in her body screamed to life. Newly sensitized, her skin prickled at the slide of his cotton shirt against her bare arm as he cupped the side of her head to hold her in place. His lips were firm, but softer than she’d expected. The friction of his mouth on hers dragged a moan from her chest.

The sound spurred him to intensify the pressure of his kiss, but he retreated before she could act on her rising passion. His teeth caught at her tender flesh and gently tugged. She arched her back, seeking closer contact. This was so much better than she’d ever imagined.

He flattened his palm against her back, locking her in place before treating her to the first delicious lick of his tongue. A slow thrust followed. Warm. Wet. Skilled. He claimed her mouth as if he’d done it a thousand times. Taking his time, he explored every corner of her mouth, tantalizing her with his leashed passion. What happened if his control snapped? Violet was fast losing her wits. Much longer and her stance on a sexless marriage would topple.