Page 16 of Chasing His Bride

Urgent rectification required.

I pull her to me and do what the crowd wants... I kiss her like she’s made me the happiest man in the world.

Her face heats by the second, a beautiful pink glow over her cheeks, and there’s something about her coyness that brings a smile to my lips.

“My future wife, everybody!” I shout.

“Lucky man, but she’d be luckier if she married me!” a man yells in the background.

Amber taps her finger on her chin. “I have more offers, darling. You better make it quick before I get snapped up.”

I arch an eyebrow and give her a grin.

But something inside me already knows this fake marriage is going to be the worst and the best thing in my life. One night, one year, the sooner I’m out of Vegas, the better.

“Unless you’re already changing your mind,” she says.

“Oh, Amber, you don’t know what’s on my mind,” I say.

“Does it end with something like ‘Oh Jack, yes?’” she says, winking.

I burst into laughter. Hell, it’s only until my grandfather hands over the business. But I already want more. “It does.”

“Then it’s a yes,” she says with a grin. “It’s not like I’m ever planning on being an actual wife. At least not for a long time.”

Fuck. Fuck.

Shit, she said yes.

Oh, my god. I’m getting married.

“But you have to send me the papers for the divorce the moment your grandfather approves. I’ll sign the documents and send them back by email. I don’t want any complications.”

I nod. Pulling myself back to reality, because somewhere out there, I started to think this was real. “Of course. You won’t be put out in any way other than your signature on a piece of paper.”

After she unfolds a napkin, she leans into her purse and takes a pen. And writes.

PRENUPTIAL AGREEMENT BETWEEN JACK CLARK AND AMBER GREYSON.

Both parties will leave the marriage with everything that is theirs.

….………………….. Jack Clark

…………………….. Amber Greyson

She signs and dates her signature, then she pushes it over to me. I stare at her.

She shrugs her shoulders. “I’ve got nothing, but I expect you have, so add anything you want to it and sign it.”

I hesitate as I sign it.

“Keep it,” she says, scoring with the pen through the empty white space and laughs. “And I’ll win the who-can-do-the-craziest-thing-in-Vegas bet.”

I wait patiently for her to finish her lunch, then I pay the bill.

“We need to go,” I say, taking her hand.

I’m relieved she finally agrees because I’d already completed the paperwork online and we’re supposed to pick up the documentation for the ceremony. I’ve also arranged an appointment with a jeweler at four o’clock.