Married Till Christmas

After the loving, they ordered room service. They had breakfast in bed and then made love again. They took a long bath. Together.

And made love again.

More than half the day had passed and all they’d done was eat breakfast and take a bath—oh, and the lovemaking. Lots and lots of lovemaking. She was dizzy with it, swept away into a beautiful, sensual dream, a private fantasy, a lush, secret world containing just the two of them.

By late afternoon, he let her go down to her room. But only long enough to shower, put on a little makeup and get dressed. He was at her door a half an hour after she’d left his suite.

He started kissing her. No surprise where that led.

Finally, they both agreed they needed to get out, have some dinner. The big bed would be right there waiting for them when they returned.

She put her dress back on. He ordered a car and off they went to an Italian place he knew about. The food was wonderful and there was a really nice Chianti. Maybe she had a little more of that than she should have.

They got back in the limo.

Deck shut the privacy screen between them and the driver. They glided up and down the strip, making love. Even through the tinted windows, the bright lights reached them and played a symphony of color across their naked skin.

There was champagne. Dom Pérignon.

“When did you order champagne?” she asked, sitting there naked, feeling satisfied, shimmery all over, somehow. It was really quite wonderful.

He said, “You are so beautiful, Sparky. Bold and strong and so damn smart. More than any man deserves in this life. There is no one, no one, like you.”

His words poured over her. They made her feel special. Treasured. Loved.

He never did answer about the champagne, not that she really cared. He popped the cork and gently pushed her down onto the seat so he could pour the bubbly treat on her belly. He sipped it from her navel. She wove her fingers in his hair and sighed in delight.

He said more thrilling things, lots of them, whispering them against her bare skin—that he loved her, that she was and always had been the only woman for him.

She took what he said as part of the fantasy he was weaving around her. No, they weren’t real, his vows of love and forever. She didn’t believe them.

But they sure sounded good. They went down just right with the champagne, with the feel of his hot, hard body pressing close, with the endless pleasure he gave.

It was paradise, pure and simple, to be held in his arms.

When the limo slowed and glided to a stop, she opened her eyes and asked, “Where are we?”

He chuckled. “Put your dress back on. We’ll go check it out.”

“An adventure?” That sounded delightful.

“That’s right. Nell and Deck’s big adventure.” He helped her back into her clothes. Once she was dressed again, she sat there grinning like a fool as he put on his shirt, his boxer briefs and his pants. She wasn’t really drunk, just...kind of high. High on pure pleasure, on sexual satisfaction.

He was fully dressed now. He held up her coat and she put it on.

Dazed, happy, glowing all over, she let him help her from the car.

They were at the Clark County Marriage License Bureau, of all things. That made her laugh. “Oh, you are kidding me.”

He took her hand. “Come on, let’s go inside, just for fun.”

“But...it’s nine o’clock on Sunday night.”

“Sparky, this is Vegas. They almost never close.” He gazed down at her expectantly.

She thought about how much she was loving this, every minute of this night, the two of them together, kind of hazy from the alcohol, loose and easy all over from the beautiful lovemaking. What a great way to feel. She was ready for anything.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s go inside.”

She followed him in.

After that, well, whatever he suggested, she couldn’t say yes fast enough. She let him take a number and when their turn came, she whipped out her driver’s license and signed where the clerk pointed. It was all very simple. Smooth and easy as you please.

When they returned to the limo, they had a marriage license.

Really, why was she doing this? She wasn’t that drunk. She didn’t understand herself. She ought to...

But then he started kissing her again. And it was a game they were playing. Delicious. Thrilling. In a way, the whole thing was like a dream, her dream, from so long ago, the dream that didn’t come true.

Somehow, impossibly, it was coming true tonight.

It wasn’t that far to the wedding chapel—well, it was more of a wedding complex, really, a series of pink stucco buildings and a parking lot dotted with palm trees and spiky succulents. The limo slid to a stop and Deck pulled a small velvet box from his pocket.

Inside was a gorgeous ring. He slipped it on her finger, a perfect fit, and she thought, He’s got this all planned.

That should have alarmed her, right?

Definitely.

But the ring was so beautiful, with a large square-cut diamond, smaller diamonds glittering along the platinum band. And everything just felt...right somehow. Tonight, she was living the teenage fantasy she’d once believed in so passionately—the fantasy of her and Deck and happily-ever-after.

The years between then and now had somehow folded in on themselves. He’d never taken a buzz saw to her heart, never married someone else.

Her life with him, the love he’d always promised her. Their own personal forever...

It was coming true at last.

The chapel complex had it all, everything two people needed to say “I do,” Vegas style.

The woman in the lobby area greeted Deck by name. “Mr. McGrath.” She practically cooed at him. “Welcome to Now and Forever.” She aimed a thousand-watt smile at Nell. “And it’s a delight to meet your beautiful bride.” The woman took Deck’s black credit card and sent him to the men’s boutique to rent a tux.

Another woman came for Nell. “I’m Anita. And I’m so glad you’ve come to us for your special night. Follow me.”

In the bride’s boutique, Nell chose her dress. It was perfect, that dress, with a low back and lace sleeves—a mermaid dress, clinging to her body all the way to her knees and then opening out in a fishtail of lace and glittering beads. A seamstress quickly pinned and tucked at the waist and down over her hips, creating a perfect fit. And then she whisked the dress away to alter it on the spot.