Marriage by Mistake Read Online Free PDF Page A

she reached for some
level of sanity. "You can't exactly apologize for walking out on
me."
    A muscle twitched in his jaw. "No, I can't
make up for that."
    Ha! Kelly thought.
    "But I am sorry I didn't believe you when you
came to my office the other day." His gaze sharpened on her. "I
shouldn't have called you a phony. I shouldn't have assumed you
were anything but exactly what you claimed to be." He paused. A
different muscle twitched in his jaw. "My wife."
    "Uh huh." Kelly shook her head, trying to
digest it all. He was here. He'd flown all the way across the
country to tell her...this? "So you're still saying you don't
remember me," she declared, just to make it clear to both of
them.
    His lips thinned. "I'm not 'saying it.' It's
true."
    Their eyes met, and locked. Never had Kelly
met a crumb who could look so sincere. Sincere? He looked
positively annoyed.
    "Uh huh," she said, confused. Why was he
annoyed?
    His next remark answered that. "Believe me or
not, Miss Williams, but we are legally wed. That gives us matters
to discuss." He looked at her, implacable.
    Kelly stared back at him, uncomprehending.
Then it hit her. The divorce . "Oh," she said. He was
sincere, all right. Sincere in his desire to get rid of her. She
squelched a ridiculous little pang beneath her breastbone. This
fellow wasn't the man she'd once believed him to be, not the sweet
and tender love of her life. It was okay, it was good , to
put an end to this.
    "Matters," she said. "Fine. Wonderful ."
    His gaze averted. "I have a place we can be
private."
    ###
    Kelly had to admit herself impressed. He was
all prepared. In the hotel, he'd reserved a conference room for
their little meeting, with scattered sofas, end tables, and lamps.
Formal, impersonal, and the message clear: neutral territory.
    She strode in ahead of him, reassured.
Neither emotions nor passion would get involved here. This was,
indeed, simply business. And simply business was all Kelly wanted
it to be. Handsome as he was, the man still wasn't admitting he
even knew her. A crumb to the end.
    "Please," he said, indicating a pink-striped
sofa. "Have a seat."
    Kelly glanced at him. His expression was
cool, calm, even pleasant. A crumb with impeccable manners. With
her fists clenched in her jacket pockets, she sat.
    Dean moved with easy grace to a red floral
chair to one side. He picked up a briefcase and set it on the
coffee table between them.
    So, Kelly thought, he already had the papers
drawn up. Quite...foresightful. And quite unlike the man she'd
known. That, apparently, had been one big, fat masquerade.
    But whatever. All she had to do was sign. She
did not lean back against the sofa cushions. Why, she'd be out of
here, done with the whole humiliating episode in minutes.
    Dean set one hand atop the leather briefcase.
"I understand you don't believe me about the hypnosis, or about
forgetting everything that happened during the ensuing two days.
But I wonder if you wouldn't mind...humoring me for a few
minutes."
    "Um. What?"
    He opened the clasps of the briefcase with a
simultaneous click. "I'd like to know what I did for two days. You
could help with the answers to a few simple questions."
    Kelly chewed the inside of her cheek. She was
supposed to humor him? To what end? "Well, I don't   
What's that?" He'd drawn some sheets of double-folded paper from
his case.
    "This is my credit card report, starting with
the plane tickets I bought Friday evening." He shook it open. "The
first item I don't understand is a place called 'Nat's.'" He looked
over at her.
    Kelly looked back. Did he really think she
wanted to play this game? And why? She wasn't going to fight a
divorce.
    His brows rose. "Bar?"
    Kelly's breath rushed out. She didn't go out
to bars with men she met after the show!
    He tilted his head. "You're just humoring me,
remember? Not admitting my story's true or anything."
    "It's a diner," Kelly blurted, as if he
didn't know that perfectly well himself. They'd sat over the same
pair of