“See?”she said.“You must have given me some kind of drug.I wouldn’t have come willingly with a stranger.Oh, my God.Did we…did we…”
“Make love, have sex, get funky?”Chase quipped.He tilted his head toward the waste basket near the nightstand.“Based on the condoms in the trash, I’d say it’s a distinct possibility.”Straightening to stare down at her again, he said, “I reiterate, I don’t rape women.You had to have been a willing participant for there to be more than one condom in there.For the record, there are two.”
“Oh, you’re disgusting.Please, let me go.”She tried again to move her arms.
“I’m going to let go of your wrists, so long as you promise not to slug me.”He frowned, wondering if it was a good idea to release her.She could have been the one who’d given him the bruised cheek and rib, and she looked mad enough to do damage to him.Since he was naked, she could really hurt him.“Promise?”
She nodded her head.
He let go of her left wrist.
She brought her hand up to cover her breast.
The sunlight shining through the window glanced off something bright on her ring finger.
“Good God, woman.You’re married,” Chase exclaimed, appalled that her presence in his bed went against one of his golden rules.Never bed a married woman.He leaped off her and the bed and stood a couple of feet away, yanking on a pair of boxer briefs.“I don’t know how you got into my room, butIdon’t sleep with married women.”
“Married?”She glanced at his hand and yanked the sheet up to cover her nakedness.“I’mnot the married one here.Youare.”She pointed to his ring finger.“You lying bastard.I pity the woman who married you.She has to have shit for brains.”Tucking the sheet firmly around her, the woman eased out of the bed.“Where have you put my clothes?Is that your game?Keeping me naked in your room because I can’t go running down the hallway in the nude?”She poked a finger at him.“Well, I have news for you, buddy.I don’t care if I have to run naked through town.I’m not staying here.You can’t keep me, and as soon as I can, I’m turning you in to the authorities.”
Chase lifted a bright red dress off the floor and held it up.“This belong to you?”
“My dress!”She grabbed for the dress and held it against her chest.Then her gaze shot to the dresser where a pair of stilettos had landed.She marched over to the dresser, snatched the shoes into her hand and stared down at the paper beneath them.“What the hell?”She dropped the shoes and grabbed the paper.“No, no, no.It can’t be.What the hell did you give me last night?”She shoved the paper into Chase’s face and demanded, “Tell me this is some sort of sick joke.”
He took the document from her hand and glanced down at the words.They were written in Spanish with the English translation beneath.The paper was thick parchment with fancy scrollwork designs on the border.At the top of the page, it readActa de Matrimonio,and beneath it, in English, were the words, Marriage Certificate.
Chase’s heart plunged to the pit of his belly as he skimmed the Spanish to find the signature scrawled at the bottom of the page:Chase Flannigan.Beside his name, in neatly written cursive, was the nameAlana Neal.
He looked at the ring on his finger and then glanced at her.
She stood with what appeared to be a photograph in her hand, staring down at the image, her face blanching a startling shade of white.Then she looked to him.“We’re married?”Her finger pointed from him back to herself, wrapped in the sheet.“You and me?Married?”
With the proof in his hand, Chase had a hard time refuting her statement.He ran his free hand through his hair.“I don’t remember signing this.”
She looked over his shoulder at the document.“Is that your signature?”
He nodded.“Looks like it.”He jabbed his finger at the name Alana Neal.“Is that yours?”
She closed her eyes.“I’m not believing this.It can’t be.”She spun, dropped the sheet and slipped the dress over her shoulders.“Whatever the hell happened last night…didn’t, as far as I’m concerned.”
“What do you want me to do about this?”He held up the marriage certificate.
“Tear it up.It didn’t happen.You and I arenotmarried.No way, no how.”She snatched her heels off the floor, marched for the door and held it open.“Get out of my room.”
He shook his head.“I can’t.”
“You sure as hell can.”She waved her shoes at the hallway.“Go.Now.”
“Ms.Neal…Alana…this is my room.”
“If this is your room…” Leaving the door open, she marched to the closet and flung open the door.“Why are my clothes in…” Her gaze took in the crisp white, men’s shirt and dark trousers hanging neatly beside a pair of jeans and one of the polo shirts his buddy Trevor said he’d need to fit in with the clientele at the all-inclusive resort.“Where the hell is my suitcase?”She ducked her head into the shallow closet as if searching for a hidden compartment.As she straightened, she pressed a hand to her forehead and swayed.“My head feels like steel wool, and I think I’m going to throw up.”She pinched the bridge of her nose and glared at him.“What have you done with my things?”
“Listen to me,” he said as slowly and as clearly as he could.“This.Is.Not.Your.Room.”
“Yes, it is.It says so right on the door.Room 336.”She crossed to the door and pointed at the numbers on the door.
“That’s 326, not 336.”He leaned out the door and jerked his thumb toward the opposite end of the hallway.“Your room is down there.”
She frowned, stared at the numbers, blinked and stared again.With a huff, she whirled and searched the room, her gaze landing on the dresser in his room.“If this isn’t my room, is that my room key?”
