The Inconvenient Bride Read Online Free PDF

one night three months ago. He’d been reliving it every night since.
    Half an hour ago he’d married her—to be a sober reliable married man, to put an end to his father’s meddling—but mostly so tonight they could set the world on fire again.
    But they had to get through dinner with his father first.
    He tucked her into the same hired car and got in after her.Outside, rain slashed against the window. Horns honked as the driver cut into the traffic and began the journey uptown. The faint warmth of the spring afternoon had all but dissipated now. And against the far door Sierra seemed to be shivering inside her denim jacket.
    â€œAre you cold?” Dominic asked.
    She shook her head fiercely. “I’m fine.” She wrapped her arms around her damned tackle box and sat hugging it like it was some great plastic shield. For an instant she glanced his way long enough to shoot him a quick flippant smile, then stared straight ahead again.
    He still thought she looked like she was shaking.
    So if she wasn’t cold, was she nervous? Sierra? Not likely!
    He doubted she’d ever been nervous in her life. He studied her out of the corner of his eye—her purple hair, her stubborn chin, her pert nose, her raccoon eyes. He fished in his pocket and thrust a clean handkerchief at her.
    â€œHere. Wipe your face. You’ve got eye gunk all down your cheeks.”
    Sierra looked startled. Then, “Thank you so much,” she said with false politeness, making him wonder if she’d rather appear in public looking like a raccoon.
    But she snatched the handkerchief out of his hand and pressed the button to roll down the window.
    â€œHey, what are you doing?”
    She thrust his handkerchief outside into the rain. “Unless you’d rather I spit in it?”
    Dominic flushed. “Of course not.”
    â€œI didn’t think so.” When she decided the handkerchief was sufficiently damp, she put the window back up and scrubbed at her cheeks. It took two more dousings of the handkerchief, followed by so much scrubbing he thought she’d rub the skin off her cheeks.
    Finally she quit and turned to look at him. “Satisfied?”
    Now she just looked like a prizefighter with two blackeyes. Dominic didn’t say so, though. Apparently his silence said it for him.
    Sierra shrugged. “Well, let’s just hope I get a chance to stop in the ladies’ room before your father arrives.” She stuffed his handkerchief in the pocket of her jacket, then folded her arms around the tackle box again.
    She looked young and innocent—even in her purple-haired insouciance—and he wondered if he ought to coach her so she wouldn’t feel out of place.
    But, of course, she would be out of place—it was part of the reason he’d married her, after all. He felt a twinge of guilt and promptly smothered it.
    No one had made her say yes!
    Besides, there was no point in telling her how to behave or how to act. If he tried she’d bite his head off, he was sure. And anyway, her very presence, looking as she did, was her act.
    Still, he couldn’t quite leave it there.
    â€œDo you need anything?” he asked her. It seemed like the least he could do. “A briefing?”
    She looked at him, incredulous. “To meet your father?”
    â€œNever mind,” he said, feeling like a fool. “Well, fine. If there’s nothing you need—” he picked up his briefcase, set it on his lap and opened it “—I’ve got work to do.”
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    She was married.
    To Dominic Wolfe.
    It would have been funny if it hadn’t been so real. If he hadn’t been sitting less than a foot away from her in his suit that probably cost more than two months’ rent on her apartment. If he hadn’t had his nose stuck in papers that Sierra was sure had to do with a merger that would allow him control of more wealth than the average small