Grayson's Vow(25)

During the meeting with Mr. Hartmann, the executor of Kira’s grandmother’s trust, he went over the terms with both of us. It was straightforward, he said. The payout would occur immediately once we brought him a copy of our officially filed marriage license. Kira and I had sat next to each other, holding hands like a pair of lovebirds, the heat of her skin searing into mine. Mr. Hartmann seemed delighted as he looked between the two of us.

"Your grandmother was a fine woman, Kira. She would be so pleased to see you in love."

The wince was slight and Kira covered it immediately with a smile. "Thank you. She would have loved Grayson. I just know it."

"I don't doubt it. And of course, she'd be so pleased you were planning to make your life here. She did love this town."

"Yes, she did," Kira said, smiling a gentle smile. Clearly she'd loved her grandmother very much. Guilt coiled in my gut, but I ignored it as best as I could. This was Kira's choice. I hadn't even known her grandmother. I had no loyalty to her—or her money.

"You know," Mr. Hartmann continued, "your grandmother believed that if age and maturity didn't make a person more aware of the needs of others, or at least one other, marriage certainly would. It's why she put the conditions on the trust money. She wanted it to be used well, and ideally in partnership with someone you chose to share a life with." He winked at Kira. "I'm so glad that's the case with you."

Kira looked vaguely ill as she smiled and nodded at him.

"I haven't seen your father in quite some time. How's he doing?" he asked.

Kira visibly swallowed. "He's fine, Mr. Hartmann." She paused. "I haven't told him about Grayson yet." She gave me a tight smile. "If you wouldn't mind not mentioning this until I've had a chance to tell him myself . . ."

Mr. Hartmann furrowed his brow, but answered, "Of course."

Once the appointment was concluded, we sat in my truck and I called the lawyer in town that had handled my father's affairs for years. I thought he might see me quickly and I was right. We were able to make an appointment for the following day. My head started spinning. This was happening very fast. But that's what I had wanted. Again, the quicker this marriage got started, the quicker Kira would leave.

"If Mr. Kohler can have the agreement drawn up within a week, we could get married next Friday," I said, glancing at Kira as I drove back to the vineyard.

She nodded. "I'm agreeable to that," she said quietly.

"I'll make the appointment, then. We'll need one for the license and then for the actual ceremony. I looked at the website."

"Oh. Okay." She pulled her skirt down modestly and my eyes slid down her bare legs. She had great legs. Sleek and slim. The kind of legs a man wanted wrapped around him as he—

I clenched my jaw, shutting those thoughts down immediately. When I noted her silence, I said, "Not getting cold feet, are you?"

"No! No. This is all good. Quick, but good."

"The sooner we get this done, the more quickly we can get it over with, too," I said, voicing the thought I'd had more than once.

"Yes. True." She gave me a small smile, not showing any teeth. I still hadn't seen that dimple in person. Maybe I'd imagined it on my computer screen.

I glanced over at her as she took her long hair in her hands and used a rubber band from her purse to put it up in a knot. Tendrils slipped down around her face where they always seemed to be when her hair was up, apparently too silky to stay put for long. I wondered what that hair would feel like wrapped around my fist.

Damn it! Shut those thoughts down.

She was a conundrum. A pretty princess with the temper of a fiery little witch. I liked to make those crystal green eyes flash with heat. I wondered what she'd be like in bed. A hot little temptress who . . . Goddamn. I gritted my teeth, frustrated with my thoughts as I slowed in front of the gardener's cottage. She'd surprised me by making the choice to stay in that dirty little hovel. With only cold water, surely she wouldn't have used the shower, yet somehow she looked fresh and clean. I cringed. It really wasn't even livable. Why she wanted to spend five minutes there, much less inhabit it was beyond me. I'd lived in a small concrete cell for five years and even I wouldn't have any desire to live there. Of course, maybe that was precisely why. I couldn't abide small spaces for long. Many nights I’d woken up in a cold sweat from nightmares of my time inside. I'd never spoken to anyone about my experience, and I doubted I ever would. For a very brief moment, the feelings of loneliness and grief, my constant companions during those five years, assaulted me, and I felt heavy with the weight of my own failures. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed the memories away, turning my thoughts back to Kira Dallaire and the fact that she was living in my gardener's shed. Apparently, I'd misjudged her at least in some small measure. I wondered what other secrets I'd discover about her if I cared to look hard enough.