Page 12 of Fairy Tale Husband

“We do.”

She smiled up at him, daring to tease. “Shall we seal it with another kiss?”

His eyes glittered dangerously. “Not wise, elf.”

“Maybe not.” Her smile grew to a teasing grin. “But it is enjoyable.”

He shook his head. “I prefer we do this by the book. First, we’ll take care of the prenuptial agreement. Then we’ll have a wedding.”

“And the kiss?”

Passion marked his expression, burning in the fevered gold of his eyes. “Once we’re back at the hotel and in the privacy of our own room, you can have as many as you want.”

As many as she wanted... The thought fired her imagination. It seemed too good to be true. Soon she’d be married to Jake, she’d make love to him. Excitement stirred, and with that excitement came a fragile hope that their relationship would be blessed, that she could fill the emptiness he carried like a leaden weight and vanquish his demons. That a special joy would come from their joining, ajoy unlike any they’d known before.

He needs me, she repeated silently. And I needhim.

“Sit down and take a look at these papers,” he requested, spreading them out on the table.

She resumed her seat and tilted the documents so the glow from a nearby lantern fell across them. To her relief, the agreement appeared simple and straightforward. Jake stood over her, insisting she read every word. Once done, she signed without a qualm, then glanced up athim.

“What’s next?”

“We have to fill out an application before we can marry. There’s a county clerk stationed in the library with the necessary documentation.”

Wynne smiled. “Which means all we have to do is find the library.”

Footmen were quick to direct them and they discovered the county clerk seated behind a massive oak desk processing marriage applications. Her nametag read, Dora Scott, and she’d propped a sign next to her that announced, “For faster service, feed me hors d’oeuvres.”

“Cute,” Jake murmured, amused. He gestured for a footman and inclined his head toward the sign. “Bring a tray of your best.”

Dora overheard and grinned. “I appreciate that. You two in a hurry or just kindhearted?”

Jake propped a hip on the desk. “No one has ever accused me of being kindhearted.”

“Which leaves in a hurry,” the clerk said with a laugh. “Well, it just so happens you’ve caught me during a lull. Let’s see what I can do.” With a speed that left Wynne breathless, Dora whipped through the formalities. Completing the paperwork, she explained each in detail and handed them a pretty blue-and-white envelope. “Give these forms to whomever you choose to officiate the ceremony. The gold sealed certificate is a souvenir for decoration only. You can frame it, hang it on your wall, or throw darts at it for all I care. But it’s not a legal document, so don’t go trying to palm it off as one.”

“No problem,” Jake said. “Thanks for your help.”

“My pleasure. Just do me one favor.”

“Sure.”

The clerk held him with a piercing gaze. “Be happy. That’s all I ask. Now go on and get out of here. I’ve got another couple waiting and by the look of the hors d’oeuvres he’s carrying they’re in an even bigger hurry than you two.”

Documents in hand, Jake and Wynne crossed to the salons set aside for the wedding ceremonies. “It seems we have a choice,” she murmured. “Religious, civil—”

“Or anything in between,” Jake finished for her, his voice unexpectedly harsh. “Which do you prefer?”

She glanced at him, about to answer, then caught her breath in dismay. He stood unmoving, his jaw set in rigid lines, his shoulders tensed as though in anticipation of a blow. He dreaded this next part, she realized in dismay. She could see it in the turbulent glitter of his eyes and the rigid line of his mouth. Of all that had gone before, this would be the most difficult for him. Why? What painful memories lay beneath that stoic expression?

Tears of sympathy gathered in her eyes and she blinked to clear them before he noticed. He wouldn’t appreciate her compassion. In fact, it might very well drive him away. If she wanted to help, she’d get this next part over with as quickly as possible. She sighed. All her life she’d dreamt of walking down the aisle of her hometown church. At the very least, she’d hoped for a quiet, religious service, its simplicity both moving and memorable. Now she knew she’d have neither. It would be asking toomuch.

“Why don’t we have a civil ceremony,” she suggested gently.

Jake nodded in agreement, relief easing the tension consuming him. He led the way into the appropriate salon, hesitating once inside the room. Afrown creased his brow. She looked around, wondering what had caused his displeasure. The room was decorated in an elegant, if rather formal fashion. Apale blue silk couch and chairs stood in a group to one side of the room with small dried flower arrangements gracing the walnut end tables. At the opposite end of the room was a podium in front of drawn drapes, ajustice of the peace officiating an unpretentious ceremony.

“Is there something wrong?” she whispered.

---