The Marine's E-Mail Order Bride (Heroes of Chance Creek Book 3) (7 page)

“Get married.” He pulled her close and brushed a kiss over her forehead. “What do you say, Storm? Should we make this real?”

His words were so soft she wondered if she’d heard right, but he’d spoken them with enough conviction her knees went weak. Real? What did he mean, real?

“All right, let’s get started,” the judge said.

Zane could feel
Storm trembling and he squeezed her hand, willing her courage as the judge took his place in front of them. He instinctively knew that if Storm quailed now, he’d lose her for good, and he didn’t want to lose her. He’d never felt such a visceral reaction to a woman—never wanted anyone half so much. He couldn’t let her back out now. Wouldn’t let her back out ever. Storm was the one for him. He didn’t know how, didn’t know why, didn’t even know how he could know such a thing, but he did. Storm would be his and he’d never let her go again. She stared back at him, lips parted, eyes wide, and he knew his last words had shocked her. He didn’t care. He wasn’t going to back down no matter how shocked she was.

“I’m Greg Masters, Justice of the Peace,” the man in front of them said. “This is Susan Wright. She’ll act as witness.” The judge gestured to the middle-aged woman who stood beside him. He looked them over, satisfied himself that they were paying attention and shuffled the papers on the lectern in front of him. “Did you bring your own vows or do you want the standard ones?”

“Standard ones,” Zane said curtly, wanting the man to get on with it before Storm balked and ran. He knew he was pressing his luck, but
what
Gunnery Sergeant Zane Hall wants, Gunnery Sergeant Zane Hall gets
. Right?

He sure as hell hoped so.

“Very well. Welcome, Zane Hall. Welcome, Kenna North. Please join hands.”

Zane lifted the hand he was already holding, conscious that his palm was sweaty. But so was Storm’s.

She hadn’t pulled away, though. A smile quirked his lips as a vision from the previous afternoon flashed through his mind. Storm on the motel room bed, her hair streaming over the coverlet, her skin flushed with desire—

What Gunnery Sergeant Zane Hall wants, Gunnery Sergeant Zane Hall gets indeed.
He squeezed Storm’s hand again, making a silent pledge right then and there. He would do anything—anything—to make this woman happy. He’d give his all to make their life together as successful as his parent’s marriage had been. He’d work from before dawn to after dusk to provide for her and any children they might have. He’d keep her safe. He’d make her the center of his world.

Please
, he prayed silently, as doubts pierced his bravado.
Please let her go through with the ceremony.

He didn’t think he could stand it if Storm ran out on him now.

What did Zane
mean,
Should we make this real?
Did he feel the same way she did? Was he drunk on a cocktail of giddiness and hope? Or did he mean he wanted her to act the part well so that they’d fool the judge and his witness? Storm couldn’t tell.

Zane’s grip on her fingers was nearly crushing them. One thing was clear; he wouldn’t let her run now. She didn’t want to run, anyway. She wanted to marry Zane.

“Zane Hall, do you take Kenna North to be your wife?” the judge said, making her suck in a sharp breath. She hadn’t realized they’d plunge straight into the vows like this. Wasn’t there some kind of preamble? Apparently not. As she scrambled to catch up, her heart pounding in her chest, the man went on. “Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her?”

Zane turned to face her and took her other hand, as well. “I do,” he said and his touch sent a shock-wave through her veins. If he was acting, he was a master at it. She couldn’t turn away from the raw want visible on his face.

“Kenna North, do you take Zane Hall to be your husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect him, forsaking all others, and holding only unto him?”

Zane squeezed her hands, sending a pulse of desire rippling through her and she gave up any pretense that she didn’t want this with all her heart. Gazing back at him, struggling to form the words, she hesitated only at the name in which she had to make this vow. She didn’t want to pledge her future in Kenna’s name. She wanted to do it in her own.

She couldn’t, though. She couldn’t keep the judge and Zane waiting any longer, either. Zane held her gaze, as if willing her to speak the answer he wanted to hear.

“I do,” she said breathlessly, realizing Zane’s hands were trembling as much as hers were. She blinked as a sudden emotion brought wetness to her eyes. This man—this Marine—wanted to marry her as much as she wanted him.

“Do you have your rings?” Greg Masters said.

Zane fumbled in his pocket and took out a pair of plain bands, never taking his eyes off of her.

Masters spoke again. “Zane Hall, please repeat after me.”

“I, Zane Hall, take thee, Kenna North, to be my wife,” Zane repeated, his voice low but strong, his intent clear in his eyes, “to have and to hold, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, and I promise my love to you. With this ring, I thee wed.”

Zane slid the thin band on Storm’s finger and she sucked in an unsteady breath.

“Kenna North, repeat after me.”

Storm winced again at Kenna’s name, but her voice was as clear as Zane’s as she repeated her vows. “I, Kenna North, take thee, Zane Hall, to be my husband—to have and to hold, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, and I promise my love to you. With this ring, I thee wed.” As she slid the ring on his fingers, she wondered what her own gaze revealed to him. Anxiety? Uncertainty?

Hope?

Masters faced them. “Zane Hall and Kenna North, in so much as the two of you have agreed to live together in matrimony, and have promised your love for each other by these vows and the exchange of your wedding rings, and by the authority vested in me by the State of Montana, I now declare you to be husband and wife.” He beamed at them. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Still reeling from
what he’d thought he’d seen in Storm’s eyes, Zane pulled her roughly into a tight embrace, needing her to know that he had hope, too. He kissed her passionately, pouring his emotions into that connection. She had to understand how he felt. She had to know he’d meant every word he’d said. “It will be okay,” he whispered fiercely into her ear and kissed her again. “I promise.”

When he brushed her cheeks with his lips he found them wet with tears. He didn’t know what that meant. All he did know was that he wanted to protect Storm from sadness. He wanted to protect her from everything.

He wanted a shot at forever with her.

Storm wiped her
face with the back of her hand and signed on the line where the Judge pointed. A few minutes later she was back in Zane’s truck headed out of town on a road that wound south. She hadn’t expected to cry at the ceremony.

“You okay?” Zane asked after several minutes.

She nodded, but the truth was she didn’t know if she was. Emotions assailed her that she seemed to have no control over. When Zane kissed her, she’d expected to feel happiness, or at least relief that they’d made it through the ceremony. Instead, her heart had throbbed with a bittersweet pain that pierced her to the quick.

In one quick flash she’d realized all she’d given up in her eight-year-long rush to help Cheyenne pay the bills and raise her sisters. It became all too clear what an anchor her responsibilities would be for years to come. She wanted this so badly—she wanted Zane so badly—but she couldn’t have him or the life he represented. She was stuck with her family on a sinking ship with no way to ever reach land.

She’d been fooling herself if she thought this break from her family would help her see her way clearly to a solution. She’d found clarity, but of an all too different type.

She was doomed to a lifetime of servitude if she kept on her present course. How could she break free without hurting her mother and sisters, though? It had been bad enough before she met Zane, but now she understood exactly what she’d be missing during her life unless she left them. She’d never have a partner like Zane. She’d never have time for one, and even if she did, she couldn’t ask any man to shackle himself to the mortgage on Cheyenne’s house.

Her marriage to Zane represented everything she’d ever hoped for—except it was all fake. How cruel it was to be forced to play a role in the very life she’d always wanted. On top of that she had to masquerade as Kenna. Could thirty grand possibly be enough compensation for this nightmare? She glanced at Zane again. Yes. Anything was worth the chance to spend even six weeks with the Marine.

“Remember, as far as my brothers and their wives know, we’re just engaged. In fact…” He slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road. “We’d better get these rings off before I forget.” He tugged his off and held out a hand. Storm bent to pull hers off as well, distressed to have to part with it. Even if the ring didn’t symbolize a real marriage, it meant so much to be even temporarily joined with Zane. She hated to give it up.

Zane closed his fingers around the two bands. “Look, I know this isn’t easy. I don’t know about you, but…” He gazed out the windshield at a Ram pickup loaded with hay trundling toward them. “I’m glad fate threw us together. The circumstances could be better, maybe, but at least we’re here, together.” He shrugged. “I’m proud to introduce you as my fiancée.”

She struggled for composure. “Really? Why?”

“Are you kidding?” His smile stretched into a grin. “You’re beautiful, intelligent, and you’ve climbed Mt. Everest. Bet none of the other women in town can match that.”

Storm’s spirits, newly revived, spiraled down again. She hadn’t climbed Mt. Everest. She hadn’t climbed much of anything. What Zane knew about her was as fake as the driver’s license that proclaimed her to be Kenna. Did Zane even care for her? Or had he fallen for a lie?

Zane leaned closer. “Let’s make a deal right now.”

“What kind of deal?”

“That even if we only have six weeks together, they’ll be the best of our lives. If we can do that, the rest will take care of itself.”

When he snared her in his hazel-eyed stare, she couldn’t deny him, no matter what her fears were prompting her to do. “Okay,” she promised, ignoring the instincts that told her she’d regret it. “Best six weeks of our lives.”

“First things first,” he said, putting the truck in gear again and easing back out onto the road. “I’ll teach you to ride a horse. Bet you don’t know how to do that.”

“No, I don’t,” she confirmed.

“See? We’re having fun already,” he said. “The six weeks will go so fast you’ll blink and they’ll be over. We’ll top it off with a cowboy wedding and—” He cut off abruptly.

You’ll blink and they’ll be over
. Storm nodded in agreement with his plan, but she wanted to cry all over again.

‡

“T
here it is,”
Zane said as Crescent Hall came into view. Perched on a rise of ground, the tall, gray, gothic house looked every bit the foreboding mansion, but to him it had always been his definition of home. Satisfaction welled through him that this time he was here to stay.

“You left the Marines recently, right? Are you glad to be back?” Storm asked. He was happy to see she’d perked up some during their trip from town. The wedding seemed to overwhelm her and he didn’t know if she’d bought into his
deal
or not. He hoped she could come around to seeing things his way. She had to if he was going to convince her to become his wife for real.

He nodded, his gaze still on his home. “You don’t know the half of it.” When they pulled up in front of the Hall, he got out and grabbed her luggage. “Come on. Let’s meet everyone and get you settled in.”

“There you are! Finally!” he heard Mason exclaim as they walked up the porch steps. The front door swung open and his brothers and their wives spilled out. A moment later he and Storm were surrounded by his family. He made the introductions, hoping Storm wasn’t overwhelmed all over again. “I thought you said you were picking up Kenna and bringing her right home,” Mason went on. “Got a little distracted, huh?”

Zane ignored Mason’s ribbing, knowing Storm wouldn’t appreciate that kind of teasing right now. “Storm, meet my oldest brother, Mason. He’s the one who used to be a Navy SEAL. Mason this is Kenna North, who prefers to go by her nickname, Storm.”

Mason shook her hand. “It’s good to meet you, Storm. This is my wife, Regan.”

Regan embraced Storm. “I’m so glad to meet you! Your wedding planner called, by the way. Mia Matheson? I’ve got her number for you.” Regan was a petite woman with light brown hair, her belly just beginning to swell with her first pregnancy.

“Oh… thanks. I’ll call her back in a day or two when I’m settled in.”

“I’m Austin.” Austin shook Storm’s hand when Regan released her.

Zane relaxed a little. So far, so good.

“Look at you two. You’re practically identical,” Storm said, glancing from Austin to Zane. “Do people get confused?”