The Billionaire Who Bought Christmas(16)

No need to head for L.A. now. Jack had accomplished his mission.

He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat, his usual self-righteousness    was battling an unfamiliar and unsettling slither of guilt. He told    himself it had to be done. The family was his responsibility. And,    anyway, Kristy had brought it on herself.

She had.

He hadn't been given a choice.

Then she wriggled her bare bottom against him, and his arm spontaneously    tightened around her. She turned her head to look up at him and  smiled   like an angel, even as the unmistakable glow of desire rose in  her  blue  eyes.

He chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair from her flushed cheek. "Again?"

She nodded, and he immediately kissed her swollen mouth.

His body sprang to attention. He flipped her onto her back, pressing her    warmth and softness into the big, wide mattress. Just a little  longer,   he promised himself as desire and passion licked at the  corners of his   soul. Just a few more hours in paradise.

He'd be burning in hell soon enough.

Six

Jack was awakened by Kristy's cry of shock. She scooted out of his arms,    flipping back the covers and letting in a blast of cold air.

He blinked his blurry eyes to see her leap from the bed and rush naked into the en suite.

"What?" he called out, sitting up and ruffling his hands through his    messy hair. He could see her naked profile at the sink as she scrambled    for the toothpaste. They'd made love into the early-morning hours,  then   slept soundly in each other's arms. She couldn't be shocked to  find   herself naked in his bed this morning.

She marched from the bathroom, a white robe draped around her shoulders,    open in front, a toothbrush protruding from her mouth. She    unceremoniously uncovered him. "We're late!"

Jack rolled out of bed, slipping his arms into the other robe as a    concrete block settled firmly in his stomach. They weren't late, because    they weren't going to her meeting in California, and it was time for    him to 'fess up. He couldn't postpone it any longer.

She trotted back to the sink, spitting out the toothpaste and rinsing    her mouth. "Call Simon," she commanded, above the sound of the running    water. "Tell him to warm up the engines or something."

Jack tried to frame up his confession, but he couldn't find the correct    words. Hell, he could barely command his vocal chords to work.

"Kristy," he finally rasped.


She turned. "Why are you still standing there?"

His hands involuntarily closed into fists. "Because there's no point in going to L.A."

Her glance shot to the clock on the bedside table. It showed eight-fifteen, and her voice went hollow.

"We could call Cleveland and explain."                       
       
           



       

Jack jerked backward, his guilt turning to shock. "Explainthat we got married?"

She nodded.

"And you think he'll still want to see you?"

Her eyes went wide, giving her face a sweet, vulnerable look that almost    got to him. But he ruthlessly reminded himself who she was and what    she'd planned, and that she'd married him under as many false pretenses    as he'd married her.

"He values punctuality that much?"

Jack shook his head, giving a dry chuckle. "I think he values fidelity that much."

"Huh?"

"Kristy, you married me." Jack jammed his thumb against the center of his chest. "Me,not him."

She blinked, and her voice dropped to a confused whisper. "What are you talking about?"

Man, she was good. Sometimes he couldn't believe just how good she was.    He also couldn't believe she'd keep the dumb act up for this long.  What   was the point?

He grabbed his slacks from the chair where he'd tossed them last night.    He stuffed in one leg and then the other, watching her with a   fatalistic  curiosity.

"The jig is up, babe. You can't get your hands on Cleveland's money if you're already married to me.

And you can't get your hands on mine because, one of those papers you signed last night was a pre-nup.

And it'll hold up in court."

Kristy staggered back. For a second there, he thought her knees might give out beneath her."What?"

"What?" he mimicked, sarcastically even as he fought the urge to pull her into his arms and offer comfort.

He hated himself for that weakness. And because of his inner battle, the    response came out harsher than he intended. "You're caught. You're  not   going to be Mrs.

Trophy-Wife-Cleveland-Osland-Number-Three. You'll have to find another scheme to hawk those rags you call a spring collection."

Her face turned pure white, and she groped to steady herself on the back of a chair.

Then his cell phone jangled on the table. He snagged it, hoping it was    an emergency that would get him out of here and away from his    unreasonable guilt.

"Yeah?" he barked.

"Where the hell are you?" his grandfather's voice boomed.

Perfect. Could the moment get any worse?

"Vegas," Jack answered, while Kristy blinked at him with big, round,    accusatory, blue eyes. He was tempted to turn away from her censure. But    he was in the right. She was the one who'd hatched the plan to get  his   family's money.

He held his ground.

"Hunter tells me you've got Kristy."

"Yeah," said Jack, holding her gaze. "The two of us got married last night."

"Well, get your asses to California. I've got seven people sitting around the boardroom table waiting for her."

Gramps reaction threw Jack. "Didn't you hear me? Wegot married last night."

"Bully for you. Nanette and I bought a Ferrari last night."

"Who's Nanette."

"My fiancée."

The sensation of being sucker-punched was so strong that Jack actually flinched.

He stared at Kristy in horror as she held the oversized robe around her    for protection-her confused eyes, her sleep-mussed hair, her   over-kissed  lips.

What had he done?

Whathad he done?

Stupid question.

He'd married the wrong woman.



Hearing Jack's explanation, and listening to his side of the telephone    conversation with Cleveland, it took Kristy about thirty seconds to put    the pieces together. The whole thing was a fraud. Jack hadn't been    falling in love with her this weekend. He'd been making a preemptive    strike against her.

Her feelings of hurt, confusion and embarrassment were quickly replaced    by anger. What kind of a cold, calculating snake did it take to fake a    romance, marry a woman and then make love to her, not once, not  twice,   butthree times?

Jack snapped his phone shut, and they stared at each other in silence for a long second.

"We'll get a divorce," he pronounced.

"You bet your life we'll get a divorce." She yanked the belt tight on    the robe. "Although keeping your hands to yourself last night and    leaving open the option for an annulment would have been a nice touch."                       
       
           



       

"I couldn't take that chance."

Her bark of laughter came out a little high-pitched. "Of course you    couldn't take that chance, what with me being a sleazy gold digger and    all.Any reasonable man would have had sex with me so I couldn't get an    annulment."

"Kristy-"

"Don't youdare try to defend yourself."

"It's happened before."

She looked him up and down. "What? You've married other women who were engaged to your grandfather?"

"No! I mean he-"

"I don't want to hear about it."

"He's married bimbos-"

"Stop."

"-before!" Jack shouted over her protest.

Abimbo? That's what he thought of her?

She coughed out a harsh laugh. It was either that or cry.

"Well, in that case, Jack. You came up with a great plan. I mean, if you    take away morals and ethics and, well, every scrap of reasonable    humanity. It was a great plan."

"I thought you were-"

"A bimbo. Uh-huh. You've made that clear. So, is my meeting in L.A. still on or what?"

"This afternoon."

"Good." She stomped back to her own room, intending to call an airline    and book a commercial flight. If she never saw Jack Osland again, it    would be far too soon.

"You take the jet." His voice was directly behind her.

"Get out of my bedroom."