Page 54 of The Angel and the Agent

“Ethan…”

“Amelia, we are never going to find another place to stay in this downpour. The man has a room for rent, I say we jump through this tiny hoop and take him up on it.”

“The tiny hoop is a wedding band,” she said.

“You’re getting caught up in the details. Big picture: we’ll have a safe, warm bed for the night. Remember the jungle where we spent ten hours today? Remember how it felt to walk through that mud? Remember how hungry, wet, and exhausted you are? Do you want to do all that again?”

She shook her head.

“Good.” He took her hand and faced the man. “We’re ready.”

The man reached for his bible and performed the ceremony then and there, as they continued to drip water in the entryway. Amelia felt like she was having an out of body experience. Not only was she getting married, but she had to translate the ceremony for Ethan, including his vows. She felt a little like she was marrying herself. At the end, he gave her a chaste, perfunctory kiss while his drenched hair dripped water all over her nose. The priest shook Ethan’s hand and showed them down the hall to their room.

“Hmm, not a bad setup for such a small town,” Ethan mused as he turned in a slow circle in the middle of the room. Their host left and returned a few minutes later with crackers, cheese, two bottles of Coke, and two clean robes, soap, and a towel.

“You will have to share the towel,” he said.

“No problem, thank you,” Amelia said on autopilot. She sounded like a robot. Or a nervous bride on her wedding night.

“You can shower first. There’s probably only enough hot water for the first one, so go ahead,” Ethan offered.

She nodded, dazed, grabbed her stuff, and headed into the bathroom. She tried to shower quickly to conserve warm water for Ethan, but it was already fading by the time she rinsed her hair. She put on the clean robe and returned to the room where Ethan remained standing where she’d left him.

“I didn’t want to drip near the bed,” he explained and Amelia’s eyes turned involuntarily there, toward the bed she’d be sharing with him. Her husband.

After he left the room, she doubled over and rested her head on her knees, trying and failing to draw a deep breath. What was happening here? Was Ethan expecting something to happen? He had said the marriage was in name only, an admitted sham. Did that mean he had no expectations of her?

She stood up. Forget his expectations. What were hers? It was her wedding night, too. For all she knew, she might never get another. The only thing she had to feel guilty about was that she had a boyfriend waiting back home. But she would break up with him, if she could. It wasn’t her fault she had no way to communicate with him until they reached the embassy tomorrow.Tomorrow.This could be her last night with Ethan.

That was her last thought as he wandered back into the room, sparkling clean and grinning the boyish smile, the one that had first bowled her over on the day they met. “How was your shower?” she asked.

“Brisk,” he said.

“I’m sorry. I tried hard to save water for you,” she said.

“It’s okay. A cold shower was what I needed,” he said.

“Why’s that?” she asked.

“Because you’re obviously not okay with this situation, and I’m not going to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he said.

She stood and bypassed him on her way to the door. He grasped her wrist. “Amelia, please don’t go.”

“Go? Who said anything about go? I’m checking to make sure the door has a lock. We’re in luck; it does.” She locked the door and turned her back to it, leaning against it.

He looked from the door to the bed and back again. “What exactly happened while I was in the shower?”

“I realized we might never have this night again. Socarpe diemand all that.”

He studied her, his gaze dizzyingly intense. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

She left the door and sauntered toward him, slipping her arms around him when she reached him. “Ethan Becket, Becket Ethan, it’s our wedding night. Let’s not waste it with words.”

“Can I say one more thing?” he asked, his hands smoothing along her waist.

“What’s that?”

“Carpe diemmeans seize the day. We wantcarpe noctem, seize the night.”

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