Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
And yet I’d married her?
“Right, but I don’t remember anything past mid-flight,” she said, scooting off the bed.
“Maybe this is a prank. I highly doubt we’d do something stupid like get married in Vegas.” I heard a rustle of fabric and turned to see Persephone holding up a wedding dress on her side of the bed.
“The evidence suggests otherwise.” She dropped the dress in a puddle of lace and silk and wrapped her arms around her waist. “What are we going to do?”
It took everything I had not to replace her arms with mine, to tuck her against me and tell her that everything would be fine.
“We’re going to get dressed and find out just how stupid we were last night.” I picked up my clothes—yep, it was a fucking tux—and headed for our suitcases, which sat next to each other against the wall.
“Right. That sounds like a good plan.” She took her suitcase and marched right past me, shutting the bathroom door behind her.
Don’t panic. Whatever this is, it’s fixable.
I dressed quickly, putting on athletic pants and a Reaper T-shirt. Then I stood in front of our window and looked out over the strip while I waited for her, refusing to let the reality of what was happening sink in. Why the hell couldn’t I remember anything past the flight? Why couldn’t Persephone?
I turned my head as I heard the door open, and Persephone stepped out of the bathroom with a slightly surprised look on her face. “You waited for me?”
“I figured we should probably question everyone together.” I took in her tiny white shorts, blue silk blouse, and simple braid that started just beneath her ear and ended nearly at her waist. Good. She looked more like her, except she’d never wear those shorts to the office, thank God, or I would have walked around with a permanent erection because holy shit her legs were incredible. Toned and supple and long, especially for someone as petite as she was.
“Thank you. That was really…considerate.” Her thumb toyed with her ring.
“I’m not a complete asshole, you know.”
Her eyes slid shut. “That is so not what I meant.”
“Let’s go.” I held the door open for her, and she muttered her thanks as we walked into the vast suite. We’d rented out the biggest one the casino had, boasting five bedrooms throughout two stories.
I followed Persephone down the stairs and found our friends sitting at the dining room table. Nathan sat near the center with Harper on his right, and his twin, Nixon, to his left. The NFL star had brought his own charity auction date…Liberty—that was the pretty brunette's name—and she took the seat at the end of the table.
Great, I could remember her name, but not how I’d wound up in bed with Persephone.
Sterling held down the opposite end of the table, raking his hand through his short, black hair. His eyes widened as he saw us.
“Well, if it isn’t Mr. and Mrs. Price!” Harper said with a grin. “We ordered a smorgasbord, so hopefully there’s something that you like.” She gestured to the buffet of food laid out on the various room service carts.
“Could someone please tell us what the hell kind of prank this is?” I pointed to my left hand. “Not that it’s not a good one, but if this is Connell’s doing, you can tell that practical-joke-loving asshole—”
“Prank?” Nathan interrupted, slowly shaking his head.
“Surely there has to be some explanation about how any of this happened,” Persephone said with that sweet southern drawl.
“You said you wanted to get married, and then got married.” Sterling shoved in a mouthful of waffles and started to chew.
“We what?” Persephone shrieked, going for Sterling.
I caught her around the waist. “Maybe we should sit down.”
She nodded, and I let go, ushering her into a chair. I took the one next to hers and reached for the carafe of coffee.
“Yes, please,” she said when I nodded toward her cup.
I filled hers then mine, noting that she dumped a heap of sugar and cream into hers as I started to sip mine as black as it had come.
The entire table stared at us in between bites of their breakfast.
“Okay, so Persephone and I don’t remember anything from about halfway through the plane ride,” I stated, then sat back, waiting for the holes to be filled in.
“I told you!” Harper jabbed her fork toward her fiancé.
“Fuck,” Nathan muttered.
“Are you going to tell them?” Nixon prodded his twin.
When no one spoke up, Liberty sighed. “Well, since I’ll never see any of you again, I don’t have much to lose by filling you in. You both complained of headaches, right?”
We both nodded.
“Right.” The woman grimaced but forged ahead. “The flight attendant said she had some pain relievers, and gave them to you from the bottle of ibuprofen.”