Page 48 of The Rented Bride

“What?” She glanced toward Tomas. “But he doesn’t know anything about us.”

Trent smiled. “Which will make this interesting.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close.

Wait staff circulated trays filled with champagne flutes. They brought two glasses to Trent and Cassie.

Tomas faced Cassie and Trent. “We all love Trent. His generosity, his dedication to family and his enthusiasm for life are boundless. When a friend is in need, he’s the first one to help. So it’s no surprise that when he had something as wonderful to share as the woman he loves, we would want to be here for him, for you both. Trent, she’s beautiful, intelligent and, to be married to you, we know she’s patient.” Soft laughter rippled through the room. “Cassie, I speak for everyone when I say you haven’t just gained a husband, but a family of friends.” He lifted his glass.

Trent lifted his glass. Cassie followed his example and lifted hers. Then he stared down at her as they both took a sip. Trent’s heart pounded. Why did she have to be so beautiful? Her eyes sparkled and her full lips parted as she looked up at him.

“Kiss her!” his grandfather called.

Trent snapped his gaze onto him.

Granddad lifted his brows. “We’re all waiting.” He lifted his champagne glass. “And if you don’t, I will.”

“You aren’t supposed to be drinking.”

“It’s a wedding—and I’m sipping. Besides, I won’t miss the toast to my new granddaughter. Now give your new bride a real kiss—no’ like the chaste kiss you gave her when you said your wedding vows.”

Trent turned his attention to Cassie. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, but if anyone read his lips…. He took her champagne glass and handed both of theirs to the nearest guest.

“Here we go, Mrs. Weston,” he whispered, then banded his arm around her waist.

Her breasts pressed against his chest. Cassie wound her arms around his neck as he covered her mouth with his. The taste of champagne mingled with her sweet taste as Trent applied gentle pressure with his tongue to part her lips. She opened to him and the warm caress of her tongue sent a direct message to the erection that pressed into with the V of her sex. She speared fingers into his hair. Trent took the cue and gently rocked his hips—then remembered their agreement.

He broke the kiss, and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

She gave an almost imperceptible nod. He turned her toward his clapping friends.

“Thank you all for celebrating with us, but I believe my wife is tired.” Trent faced his grandfather.

“Not to worry, sir,” Doris said quickly. “Annie and I will see your grandfather off to bed soon.”

Trent nodded, pressed Cassie’s lower back and they managed two steps before Doris called, “I took the liberty of having Mrs. Weston’s belongings moved to your room.”

Cassie stumbled, but Trent tightened his hold on her, and said, “Thank you, Doris,” and kept Cassie walking.

When they entered the hall, Cassie increased her pace. “Your room?” she demanded.

“Of course.”

“Why?” she snapped. “The staff knows the truth.”

“We’ll discuss this privately.”

She hurried up the stairs. “We aren’t sharing a room.”

He quickened his pace to match hers. When they reached the second floor, he guided her toward the staircase to the third floor.

“You can’t force me.”

“Would you prefer I carry you?”

She twisted and looked at him over her shoulder. Her mouth thinned, but she turned back and continued up the stairs. When they reached his room, he swung open the door.

She halted. “Have you forgotten the terms of our contract? A few glasses of champagne and a hot kiss doesn’t mean I’m going to tumble into bed with you.”

He shook his head. “We will discuss this in my room, Cassie.”