Just like that, she was a married woman.

****

Blake wasn’t sure what he pictured his wedding night to be like, but the previous night hadn’t been it. He’d secured a honeymoon suite at a luxurious resort and casino and slept on the couch, all the while listening to his wife mill about the bedroom until she finally settled sometime around one in the morning.

Their kiss had unsettled him. It started out as an act, a public display of affection that, if needed, could be reported back to the lawyers. But the performance was something he’d wanted to repeat since he and Samantha left the chapel. The way her face lit up and her inability to meet his eye proved she was as turned on as he. Dammit, he shouldn’t be lusting over his wife. A wife of convenience. A wife that often put a smile on his face and made him question his playboy ways and superficial pastimes.

He remembered her warning about “keeping it in his pants” or something to that effect. He needed to get far away from Mrs. Harrison and soon, or keeping it in his pants would be impossible.

Blake tucked away the blanket and pillow he’d tried to use the night before and waited for the light to filter into Samantha’s room to wake her up. He’d already sent notice to the offices in London about his “whirlwind” wedding to his “love at first sight” bride. It wouldn’t take long for word to spread. Chances were he’d have to retrieve his wife within a couple of weeks to convince those who watched that their nuptials were heartfelt. He’d use those couple of weeks to build a few fences around his libido. He didn’t worry about his heart, but if he screwed up Samantha’s, he risked losing everything. That risk was entirely too high.

A soft knock on the door alerted him that room service had arrived.

Blake opened the door and ushered the uniformed staff to wheel the cart into the center of the room. The rich smell of coffee arrested his senses and made his mouth water. As the waiter handed him the bill to sign, the door to the bedroom opened and out walked the smoky eyed, sleepy vision of a wife wrapped in a fluffy white bathrobe.

“Is that coffee I smell?” Samantha’s bedroom voice ripped through him and he groaned. Even the kid shuffling the room service tray forgot what he was doing as he turned toward the voice.

“I ordered breakfast.”

“Oh, good, I’m starving.” Sam’s bare feet pattered closer, her petite legs peeked through the slit in the robe. The kid dropped the bill and Blake moved to stand between Samantha and the waiter.

The kid turned red as he picked up the bill and handed it over. Blake signed it quickly and pushed the kid out of his room. The hair on the back of Blake’s neck stood on end. He took a deep breath and stiffened his spine before her turned around. His bravado didn’t work. Samantha was peeking under the silver lids with one hand and pushing her rumpled hair back with the other. She was sexy as sin.

She lifted the coffee and started to pour. “How do you like it?”

Blake closed his eyes and forced his naked thoughts out of his lust-filled mind. “Black.”

He crossed to the table and sat.

Working quietly, Samantha handed him a cup before she sprinkled a little sugar in her coffee.

As the first sip met her lips, she sunk into her chair with a sigh. The sound was throaty and brought another wave of awareness over his skin. He needed to get the hell out of Vegas or all bets for not bedding his wife were off.

Not realizing her effect on him, Samantha lifted her legs and sat them on the opposite chair. The robe gapped open revealing a flash of thigh.

Blake’s body responded with a vengeance. His hardened length pushed to painful levels, forcing him to shift in his chair to avoid Samantha’s notice.

“How did you sleep?” she asked, not bothering to cover her alabaster skin.

“Okay,” he lied, trying hard to divert his eyes from her thighs.

“Really? I toss and turned. I’m more keyed up about this marriage than I thought I would be.”

How difficult would it be to tell her he felt the same? But then, that would sound as if he wasn’t in control. Blake had to have an iron fist on everything in his life, including his marriage.

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it. Especially after I leave for London.”

She reached forward and removed a piece of toast from the plate. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” She sounded surprised.

“I’ll take you back to LA, introduce you to my staff and Carter, and then prepare to go.”

She nibbled on her bread. “Won’t that look suspicious, you leaving so soon after our marriage?”

“It might, so we’ll have to make things look good. Daily phone calls, something that proves we’re talking to each other. My father’s lawyers are merciless. They hired private eyes on behalf of my father when I was in college to report back about my transgressions.”

“Isn’t that extreme?”

“My father offered kickbacks, lucrative kickbacks for every offence they found. I doubt anything has changed since his death.” Because Blake didn’t want to dive into more family history quite yet, he asked, “Do you have a passport?”

“Not since I was twenty and the Feds took it. There shouldn’t be a problem with me obtaining one. In any event, it will be a good excuse as to why I’m not with you.” She was smiling now, waking up as she finished her first cup of coffee. He didn’t think his switch of subjects went unnoticed, but she kept any questions she had to herself. “I’ll start the paperwork on Monday.”