Marriage.
I wasmarried.
Rings and vows and binding contracts.
Had he been wasted too?
Was he just as hungover, and I was too busy wallowing in my own misery to notice his? Had he just been up longer and able to pull himself together?
It was the only explanation.
No guy of his stature did something as reckless as getting married without lawyers and prenups and all that red tape.
I could use that to my advantage.
I took one last look at myself in the mirror.
The person staring back at me was slump-shouldered and pale with purple smudges under her eyes. But there was a determination there that I was going to need to get through this whole mess.
Exhaling hard, I grabbed the rings and opened the door.
My gaze did a sweep of the room, seeing it through slightly less headachy eyes for the first time.
It was a sprawling space full of floor-to-ceiling windows, a massive bed, a kitchenette, a living area, and an office space.
Weirder still, it seemed like Harrison had actually been using the office.
A laptop was set up, a tablet, even a notebook and a pen.
Who came to Vegas andworked?
My mind flashed back, remembering him saying something about not having a lot of time for leisure.
Maybe he was in town for business and indulged in a little pleasure on the side.
That had to work in my favor.
No serious businessman in town for work would be happy to wake up married to a woman he’d had a one-night stand with.
I glanced back at Harrison, seeing none of the misery on his face that I knew was on mine. No red eyes, swollen lids, sleepless bruises, no pain making him wince.
He looked just as put-together and—damn him—handsome, as the night before.
Every bit of me wanted to snap at him.
But I led with gratitude first.
“Thanks for the clothes,” I said.
His gaze swept over me, lingering for just a second where my wet hair had made the white tee a little more see-through, and where the cold dampness had made my unbound nipples pebble up through the material.
“I’m glad they fit.”
“I don’t really remember last night,” I admitted. “But I’m assuming these on my finger mean we made a very, very stupid mistake,” I told him, holding up the rings.
“We got married,” he said with a nod.
“Well, you can take these back and get your money back,” I said, holding the rings out until he had no choice but to take them.
