Chapter 3

• The whirlwind proceedings passed in a dazed blur for Valerie. One moment she was slipping her hand into the stranger's - Michael's - calloused grip, and the next they were standing before the courthouse officiator exchanging terse vows.
• Her mind struggled to catch up with the rapidity of events as Michael's deep baritone rumbled the standard marital promises. To love, honor and cherish her as his lawfully wedded wife.
• Valerie mumbled the reciprocal words on autopilot, scarcely daring to meet the searing intensity of his emerald stare. This entire situation still felt so utterly surreal, unmoored from any semblance of reality she recognized.
• How had her day plunged from joyous bride-to-be to...to this? Pledging herself to a magnetic, unbearably handsome enigma whose last name triggered a faint spark of recognition?
• The name Donovan rang distant bells but she couldn't quite place the connection. All she knew was the enormity of her hasty choice, this irrevocable step she'd taken with a man she knew virtually nothing about.
• What had she been thinking, agreeing to something so wildly rash and reckless? Then again, given the smoldering wreckage her life had become mere hours ago, perhaps clawing sanity wasn't her strongest suit at present.
• "You may now kiss your bride."
• The officiator's wizened tones snapped Valerie's wandering attention back to frightening immediacy. This was it, the culmination of her mad scheme. Before her addled senses could catch up, Michael's rough palm cupped her jaw with exquisite tenderness.
• Valerie's breath snagged in her lungs as he angled her face up, up towards his. The simmering heat in his emerald gaze sent a tremulous shiver rippling through her slender frame. Then, with agonizing slowness, he dipped his head until their lips moaned together in a scintillating brush.
• A surprised whimper slipped free as liquid fire deluged her senses. Michael's mouth moved against hers with skilled, coaxing insistence until she swayed dizzily within the steel bands of his arms. By the time he finally released her with maddening reluctance, Valerie's pulse thundered like hummingbird wings.
• Had her legs not been braced, she might have crumpled in a boneless heap at his feet. As it was, she could only gape at him in stunned disbelief. Their first married kiss and already he'd proven more intoxicating than any drug.
• Clearing her throat with acute difficulty, Valerie fought to gather her scattered wits in the wake of that breathtaking assault. She needed to regain her equilibrium before descending into total chaos.
• "I...we're married." The words emerged in a strangled rasp laced with astonishment. As if giving voice to the fact would finally make it real.
• Michael merely arched one of those insolently carved brows in silent acknowledgment. Of course he was utterly nonplussed by the audaciousness they'd committed. If anything, his tilted smirk inferred this was all part of some greater scheme she couldn't yet comprehend.
• Well, she would wrest a few answers out of her new husband whether he cooperated willingly or not.
• Squaring her shoulders, Valerie tugged the official marriage certificate from its manila envelope and unfolded the document with trembling hands. Her gaze flew over the scripted font - there it was again in stark black and white.
• Michael Donovan.
• Her lips pursed in a tiny moue of consternation. Where had she heard that surname before? It niggled at her subconscious with disturbing familiarity, conjuring hazy recollections from childhood. Half-formed rumors and whispers overheard, then dismissed as fanciful folktales.
• But no, surely it was mere coincidence. Perhaps she simply knew of the Donovan family from afar, the one said to preside over a sprawling commercial empire based in another city miles away.
• "Something wrong, wife?" The provocation in Michael's tone spurred heat into her cheeks.
• Of course he'd noticed her pensive frown and chosen that particular endearment to bait her. Obstinate warmth bloomed in her chest even as Valerie bristled. Clearly her new husband thrived on keeping her off-kilter and unbalanced.
• Well, she would obtain a few precious answers this very instant before his magnetic presence completely addled her senses again.
• "Do you have any relation to the, ah...Donovan clan? Based out of Westwick, I believe?" she ventured with careful nonchalance.
• She witnessed the nearly imperceptible tightening of his full lips, the fleeting shuttering behind his eyes. For the space of a heartbeat, she wondered if she'd overstepped some unspoken boundary, breached a taboo with her innocent query.
• Then, just as abruptly, the tension melted from Michael's body in a sinuous roll of tightly leashed power. When he spoke, his deep tones were laced with smoky amusement.
• "You could say I have a...passing familiarity with that particular family. Why? Were you hoping your new husband is low-level hired muscle instead?" His mouth curved with deliberate insolence, all too aware of the effect his physicality produced in her.
• Valerie lifted her chin in a silent rebuke, refusing to be baited so easily by his arrogant banter. If he was indeed tied to those fabled Donovan kings of commerce and rumored criminality, it would certainly explain his potent, magnetic charisma. As well as the banked, dangerous edge that radiated from him in smoldering waves.
• "Cute," she deadpanned. "Should I be asking exactly what unsavory activities my husband dabbles in during his off-hours? Beyond marrying unsuspecting women for sport, I mean."
• She meant it as a mild jibe, but Michael's expression underwent a subtle shift at her words. Something predatory, feral, awakened behind those remarkable emerald depths.
• When he spoke, his voice scraped raw as shattered granite. "If you're asking whether you should be afraid of me, wife...the answer is yes. Absolutely."
• Drawing a fortifying breath, Valerie met his piercing stare head on. "I see...so this marriage, I will be blunt with you. I need a marriage certificate to get the inheritance my maternal grandfather left me. There won't be any...expectations."
• She watched as one of Michael's arched brows quirked infinitesimally at her baldly stated proposition. "I will draft a contract we will both sign. Terms of our marriage."
• The words hung heavy between them as he seemed to weigh the implications. At last, a low rumble emanated from deep within his broad chest. "A contract marriage."
• It wasn't a question, more a statement laced with faint amusement, as if her audacious gambit proved more intriguing than insulting. Valerie bristled at his tone but forced herself to maintain her unruffled demeanor.
• "Yes, did you think I fell in love at first sight?" She couldn't resist adding a light barb to her retort.
• Michael's full lips curved in an indulgent smirk, but she caught the fleeting darkening of his gaze before he could fully mask it. Almost as if her teasing insinuation struck a deeper, more reverberating chord within him.
• "I will draft the contract since I helped you get something you wanted," he said in a tone of casual authority. "As well as make that man - whoever he was who left you at the altar - jealous. So I get to state the terms."
• She opened her mouth to protest but Michael raised one quelling hand, causing the objection to shrivel on her tongue. There was no arguing against the steely finality in those emerald depths, the quiet implacability that dared her to defy him at her peril.
• Scarcely aware of her own capitulation, Valerie gave a mute nod. "Okay."
• A ghost of approval flickered over Michael's striking features before he focused that scorching regard fully on her, as if dissecting her very essence simply by raking his eyes over her slender figure.
• "Your address."
• The abrupt demand snapped her from the trance of his captivating presence. "Uh..."
• "Your address," he repeated in a tone that brooked no refusal. "So I can have my driver pick you up."
• Anxiety twisted in Valerie's belly, the reality of her situation finally crashing over her anew. She was married now, to this magnetic yet utterly unpredictable stranger. Sharing a life with him, even if only on paper initially, carried repercussions she couldn't begin to parse.
• "Pick me up to where?" she queried, hating the uncertain waver in her tone.
• "Your marital home, of course."
• His dark amusement was evident now as comprehension slowly dawned in her widened gaze. Of course they would need to cohabitate as any proper married couple. She was his wife now in the eyes of the law - consorting under one roof was the natural, expected progression.
• With trembling fingers, Valerie fished a pen out of her small clutch purse and hastily scribbled her apartment's address on the back of the envelope containing their marriage certificate. Michael accepted the slip of paper, the barest frisson of awareness crackling between their joined fingertips.
• "See you tonight," he murmured in a tone rife with unspoken promise. Then, before she could react further, he slanted her a wicked wink and turned on his heel.
• Valerie could only gape at his retreating form as he crossed the courthouse steps, sliding into a sleek black sedan that seemed to materialize from nowhere. Through the tinted windows, his watchful stare never wavered from hers until the coiled power of the engine roared to life.