Her Accidental Husband (4 page)

The ring bursting from her cell phone again alerted her that her mother wasn’t done.

Inspiration hit her and before she could talk herself out of it, she rolled her window down and, with a surprising burst of strength, threw her cell phone out.

It clattered against the road and landed about fifteen feet away. Still intact, bright and pink and shiny. At least until the large cargo truck ran over it. With some satisfaction, she saw it shatter and fly into pieces across the blacktop.

The car was silent.

Cruz still hadn’t said anything. Probably trying to decide if he should take a detour to the closest loony bin so he could deposit her. She snuck a peek. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she spied the tiniest smile around the lines of his mouth.

“You know, you could have just turned the phone off.”

She stretched her arms in front of her, already feeling lighter. “Yes, but this felt a hundred times better.”

“So. Boobalicious?” he asked, raising a brow as he glanced over at her. “Want to talk about it?”

She ran her fingers through her hair and breathed in deeply. “Not really. In fact, I’d prefer we don’t talk about anything related to my former fiancé, my mother, or the mess my life is in. For the next few days, I just want to enjoy some freedom. Freedom from diets, from wedding planning, and most of all, from Emily Vaughn’s rules on proper comportment and conduct becoming of a Vaughn.”

No more calls to return to caterers, florists, or videographers. No more stressing about whether Brad’s best man would make it through his speech without insulting half the guests. No in-laws to worry about impressing with her social grace.

Her life was her own again.

The sharp pain of betrayal stabbed her in the chest but she closed her eyes. She would not let Brad ruin this moment. Come Monday, she could fall apart in the safety of her condo. Not here. Not now.

Not under the scrutiny of the man beside her. She needed to keep some dignity.

Chapter Four

T
he next half hour passed quietly enough, and Payton was initially surprised at the restraint Cruz exhibited in not pestering her for the details of her phone call—something she’d be doing if their roles were reversed. But then she realized, this was Cruz. He had probably already forgotten the whole conversation anyhow. Too busy hatching some business scheme or another.

What time was it anyway? Payton reached for her purse, where her phone was stowed only to stop as she realized…she no longer owned one.

Crap. She glanced at the dash, trying not to get twitchy. Maybe she’d been a little hasty…

“What’s the first big city we hit again?”

“Monterrey. Probably close to two hours away.”

She nodded. If she had her phone, she could change her relationship status to single. She could tweet about the nightmare flight or post a pic of their ride to Instagram. She could find something infinitely more interesting than counting the mile-markers—make that kilometer markers—on the road.

She clenched her hands, the sudden need to know if she’d missed any calls or texts becoming overpowering. Being without her phone was supposed to feel more liberating.

What if Kate was trying to call her? She should at least let her best friend know how to reach her. “Umm, do you think I could borrow your phone for a minute?”

“Seriously? Didn’t you just get rid of yours?”

“Yes, well…I may have been a little hasty getting rid of the phone entirely. The least I can do is let Kate know how she can reach me.”

“I thought you talked to her while I made the rental arrangements?” he asked and reached into the front pocket of his shirt to pull out a large black smartphone.

“I did. But in case she tries to call me before I get there. I wouldn’t want her to worry about me or anything. And I want to give her a tiny heads up that my mother might call her. She may want to be prepared.”

He kept his eyes on the road and handed her the phone. She slid the screen open, wondering what kind of personal picture Cruz would have on his device, but it was a simple black screen. She dialed Kate’s cell number.

“It went to voicemail,” she announced, while she waited for the beep, in case he was interested. “Hola, Kate! Hope you’re not having too much fun without me. Now, don’t forget, I’m still planning on taking you out tomorrow night after the rehearsal dinner, so don’t even try to make up any excuses about being tired or needing your beauty sleep. You have to have a proper bachelorette party, after all. But in the meantime, I had some…slight issues with my cell phone and…well, basically, I don’t have it anymore, so if you need to reach me, call Cruz’s phone. Oh, and if my mother should happen to call you, can you not mention this number? I need a little break. I’ll explain everything when I see you, but for now just know I’m fine, and Cruz and I should be there some time after noon tomorrow. Okay. Love you.”

She hit disconnect and started to hand the phone back to Cruz but paused midway. “Actually, maybe I should hold onto this. You know, in case Kate calls. I’d hate to bother you for it while you’re driving. Could be a road hazard.”

“Of course,” he said in a mocking tone. But she didn’t care. It felt good to hold the familiar rectangle device in her hand.

“So, I can’t help but notice you don’t have any pictures of a significant other on here.” Like the woman who’d practically claimed his lap at Kate’s birthday party. Something that had irked her at the time since at the flower shop just twenty minutes earlier, he’d been definitely throwing off a vibe that told her he was interested. “Don’t you have a girlfriend? What about that woman at the party? Becca, was it? How come she’s not here with you?” She was actually relieved to turn the conversation in a direction other than her own life.

“Becca’s probably at home, I imagine. We’re not seeing each other anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “No big deal. Things have gotten a little busy at work, and I wasn’t able to give her what she was looking for. She understood.”

Right. Sure she did. From the possessive looks the cute brunette had been giving him that night, Payton would beg to differ. She snorted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cruz asked.

Up ahead, a toll station came into view and she leaned forward to count out some pesos from the console where they’d dumped the money Cruz had the forethought to get at the airport.

“Nothing. You’re just a typical man. Too wrapped up in your business life to realize what’s going on around you.” Like her father. And, coincidentally enough, like Brad—at least these past few months. Although to be fair, Brad had likely been less busy with business details as he had claimed and more busy with sowing his oats.

Whatever.

She handed Cruz some cash. “I doubt that Becca saw your relationship as casually as you do.”

“You saw her for all of about ten minutes. How would you know?” He handed the guy the money for the toll.

“Please. She was practically picking out the china pattern for the bridal registry. You might have been casual but in her mind you were branded as hers. You really are oblivious.”

“I’ll pretend
you
didn’t say that,” he said and pulled forward, picking up speed again.

Ouch. Okay. Good point. She couldn’t really preach to anyone else’s obliviousness when she hadn’t seen what was happening right in front of her face.

“Hey, I’m sorry, Payton. That was unnecessary and mean.”

She glanced over at him, catching his eyes softened in apology. “You had a point, though. It’s the whole pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it? But maybe I’ll just rest my eyes for a little while. I’m suddenly pretty wiped out.”

“Yeah. I understand.”

She sank back farther in the seat, closing her eyes.

Maybe attempting conversation hadn’t been such a good idea.

C
ruz cricked his neck and flipped through the radio for something new. A glance at his passenger told him she was either sound asleep or pretending to be to avoid further conversation. Either way, she wasn’t likely to brook much argument on his musical choice.

He’d been mulling over the bit of her conversation he’d overheard for the past half hour. The fact that Brad Eastman had been caught in a sordid position didn’t surprise him in the least. But Payton’s surprise had.

Brad was a player. No matter how gorgeous Payton was, men like Brad liked the conquest, the score of something new and different. Cruz had thought people in Payton’s position just overlooked those kinds of things. Something, if Payton were to be believed, her mother had done in the course of her own marriage.

He had to give Payton points for spunk. Her mother sounded like a shrew—since he pretty much caught the entire conversation thanks to the high decibel rate the woman had been yelling at through the phone—and it couldn’t have been easy for Payton to stand up to her like she did.

He smiled again as he remembered Payton chucking her pink cell phone out the window, grinning in satisfaction when it was creamed by a truck. She certainly surprised him. Surprises were something he tried to avoid. He preferred order and predictability in his life, which was probably why he and Payton couldn’t stand each other.

Although to be truthful, she wasn’t turning out to be as big of a pain in the ass as he anticipated. Well, the night was early. Could only be a matter of time.

The roads over the past hour had gone from flat and boring to more mountainous and curvy, so he’d had to be more alert to the traffic around him, sometimes crawling, sometimes whizzing by. Up ahead the bright lights of the city of Monterrey greeted them.

“It’s beautiful.”

Her voice broke the silence and caught him unaware. He jerked the wheel to the left and almost into the car passing them, who lit off their horn in a warning that brought a shrill scream from Payton.

He righted the car again, shaking his head. “Sorry. You startled me.”

“I can see that. Why don’t you pull over and let me drive for a while?” She was still gripping the handle above the door, panting from the near collision.

He glanced at the time. Nearly eleven. Leaving them close to eleven, maybe twelve, more hours of driving. He rubbed at his eyes, now straining against the bright lights of the oncoming cars. Honestly, he hadn’t realized how drained he was until that moment. And from what he’d heard Payton was going through, she had to be even more emotionally drained than him.

“Not that I don’t trust your mad driving skills, but what would you think about stopping for the night? My assistant sent me some hotel and restaurant suggestions, and I’m sure we could find a place with room service. We could be up and back on the road by six. Just fashionably late to the rehearsal dinner and with plenty of time for you and Kate to paint the town red.”

She released her grip on the handle, stretched her legs in front of her, and curled her back like a cat. “You had me at room service. Not that a long hot shower doesn’t also sound divine.”

She tilted her head back to look up at the dark sky, revealing the delicate skin of her creamy neck. Even with the minimal light, he could see two moles placed close together.

The blaring of a horn from his left nearly sent him careening off the road, and he realized he’d been drifting into the left lane. Again. Shit.

It had to be fatigue. Why else would he be staring at the neck of someone he had no right thinking about?

Someone who would be demanding and high maintenance, and…too far out of reach for him anyway.

P
ayton had just finished washing out her underwear when she heard someone knock at the door. Room service, finally.

She glanced down at the oversized cotton T-shirt she’d bought in the lobby gift store and wondered if she should slide on her wrinkled capris that were now hanging up in the steamy bathroom. But the length—hitting her knees—and bagginess probably offered her more coverage than many of her slinkier dresses anyhow.

And she could practically taste the chocolate mousse. Too many months of deprivation so she could squeeze into that beautiful—even if too small—wedding dress had her looking forward to eating anything and everything she wanted.

Only, when she opened the door, it wasn’t her food waiting for her to pounce on, but the six-foot-something mass of a tired but still too handsome Cruz Sorensen standing in her doorway, his cellphone up to his ear. His hair was poking almost straight up, giving her the impression he’d been running his fingers through it and hadn’t realized the effect. Nerdy but strangely…sexy.

She was delirious. This was Cruz she was talking about. The guy who’d sooner insult her than pay her a compliment.

“Yeah. Okay. I have her right here. You too, Kate.” He paused and held the phone out to her. “You have someone who wants to speak with you.”

Payton took the phone and held it to her chest while she spoke to Cruz. “Remind me what room you’re in, and I’ll drop it off when I’m done.”

The ding of the elevator, followed by a short statured man carrying a tray, told her the food was finally on its way. Only, instead of leaving, Cruz stood back to the let the man in, before following him inside.

“No chance,” she heard him say under his breath.

The guy placed the tray on the desk and handed her the receipt and a pen. With panache, she flicked the pen across the paper while still holding the phone and handed it back, all the while aware of Cruz’s dark gaze watching her every move. Or she should say the server’s every move, by the scowl Cruz was giving him before shutting the door on his back.

“Can you really be that naïve? You can’t be wandering around a hotel in the middle of the night or letting strange men into your hotel room—especially not dressed like that. This isn’t the States and you have no idea the kind of trouble you could get into.” He ran his hands through his hair again, stopping to scratch the top of his head as if pondering something. “I would let you hold onto the phone until morning but I’m expecting a call. Why don’t I come back in…half an hour?”

Already putting the phone to her ear, she nodded and waved. She noticed the way he looked back and forth down the hallway as he left her room in case a small, stealthy ninja was waiting around a corner, before shutting the door. She rolled her eyes.

“Kate? You still there?”

“Yes, are you kidding? I wouldn’t hang up for the world. I just wish I had thought to take my phone with us when we left for dinner and site-seeing earlier. I only saw your last message half an hour ago. Now what the heck is going on? Your mother has already left four messages. She’s freaking out. Something about you calling off your engagement?”

Payton sank onto the bed, her head cushioned by the pillow and told her friend about the ill-fated video call she’d made to Brad just before boarding. She hated how her voice hitched at the end when she described Brad’s state of undress.

Kate stayed silent for a moment and Payton expected to hear Kate’s denial, her argument that it couldn’t have been what she thought it was. But her friend only said, “I will kill the little twerp. No. I’ll sue him, I’ll”—she paused then and sighed. “I’m sorry, Payton. Have you heard from Brad since he hung up?”

“He left several messages earlier but I haven’t had the chance nor the inclination to talk to him.”

“I can’t believe you never said a word of this when you called earlier. And there I was going on about our dinner plans like an idiot.” But Payton had been sitting in the baggage office while Cruz filled out the paperwork for their missing luggage and hadn’t thought it was the moment to dump the horrid mess on Kate. She didn’t want to risk having a nervous breakdown in such a public place. It was easier to pretend everything was fine.

Now, she didn’t have to pretend. And the uncomfortable pressure rising in her throat and to her eyes, where tears pooled, was too heavy to ignore. She tried to muffle a sob as hot tears slipped down her temples and into her hairline.