Page 27 of Her Reclusive Beast

Max scowls while my eyes widen.

“A press conference? Why?”

Javier smiles benignly down at me. “Because a famously reclusive author is tying the knot with his sweet young editor. The world loves a love story.”

My eyes narrow. “No, that wouldn’t be a good enough reason. Not for Max, not for you.”

Javier dramatically clutches his chest. “You wound me with your words, young Jenna. However, you are correct. This is simply the fastest and most efficient way to make sure all thecockroaches are fully informed, and don’t dismiss the news as a ruse.”

He’s as bad as Max for ambiguity. Maybe they really are related.

Javier inclines his head towards the corner of the room. “There’s a dress in the big box for you.”

I blink. “How could you possibly know my size? Or taste?”

His smirk broadens. “I have a lot of… experience. As for your taste, does it matter? It’s the dress or jeans, correct?”

I shake my head. “No, I still have my office wardrobe.”

Javier’s smile is condescending. “Go try it on and then you can decide if you prefer the designer dress to discount separates.”

Grinding my teeth, I retrieve the big box and head out of the room. I’m sure it was all a ploy to get me out of earshot. For what discussion, I can’t imagine, but I’m determined not to like this dress.

Except it’s beautiful. Filmy silk lace with invisible seams floats over a silk slip. It’s incredibly simple in shape, with no ruffles or extras, but that means every inch has to be perfect. And it is. I hold my breath as I slip it over my head in the bathroom and then open my eyes to stare in the mirror.

A bride looks back at me. Albeit one with mussed hair. My cheeks are delicately pink and my eyes bright with excitement. Okay, Javier knows his way around women’s fashion. I can give him that one.

With trembling hands, I fix my hair until it’s relatively smooth and add a bit of lip gloss. I don’t own much in the way of makeup, and most of that is still in the packed boxes Javier brought from New York. After all, I thought I’d be haranguing an author for two weeks in the woods.

Finished, I regard my bare feet. My boots aren’t going to work. Determined to rectify this without insulting the dress, Ifloat back to the kitchen. Javier apparently hasn’t moved, but Max is nowhere to be seen.

Javier notes my questing glances. “He’s gone to beautify himself. I take it this means you like the dress?”

I scowl at him before admitting, “Yes, it’s beautiful. But I need shoes.”

His smile is beatific. “In the bag.”

Puzzled, I return to the large shopping bag in the corner where the dress came from. I can’t recall seeing any shoe boxes, but it’s possible I missed one. There are no shoe boxes, but there is a smaller cloth bag. Undoing the drawstring, I pull out a pair of Edwardian white leather pumps. Rolled up in each one is a filmy stocking with a decorative rosette garter. Blushing, I retreat to the pantry. I’m not sure why, but somehow this feels private.

I’m just fastening the strap button on my left shoe when Max’s voice booms out. “Where’s Jenna?”

And I thought Max’s author headshot was amazing. When I emerge from the pantry having attended to my new shoes and stockings, he’s standing in the kitchen dressed like a king of Wall Street — while glancing around, bewildered. When he catches sight of me, he stops all movement and simply stares. I kinda do the same thing.

Until there’s an audible sigh of exasperation. “Children! You can stare into each other’s eyesafterthe ceremony and press conference.”

Max breaks his gaze from mine to glare at his friend, but there’s not much heat in it. Then we all troop out of the house to Javier’s rented vehicle, as it will more easily hold three people. I’m ushered to the backseat, but Max keeps twisting from the front to look at me. There’s a light in his eye that has me feeling slightly breathless.

There’s nothing particularly memorable about the ceremony. The little courthouse is old and drafty while the judge’s chambers are also old but stuffy with the extra heaters running. The judge doesn’t waste time on flowery phrases — he’s all business as if he, too, is eager to escape the heat. Javier, along with one of the clerks, serves as a witness. Rings are produced from somewhere and my eyes stay glued to my claim on Max, resting so easily on his finger. How did this happen again? I pinch myself.

“Jenna? Why are you doing that?” Max rumbles next to me as we turn to leave the judge’s chambers.

“Because I can’t believe this is real,” I hiss. “A week ago, I was excited about meeting you. I didn’t come up here anticipating marriage.”

Max chuckles. “You were excited?”

I nod, now slightly embarrassed, but my new husband turns my head back with a single finger.

“You are more than I deserve, little one.”

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