Page 13 of Married at Midnight

“She wouldn’t have offered if she didn’t believe you could do everything she wanted.”

Connor smiled, and Ellie realized it was the first real smile he’d given her since this whole Vegas wedding nightmare had begun. It softened the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes, making him look more like the boy she remembered. At the thought, butterflies let loose in Ellie’s stomach.

“So where do we go from here?” she asked.

His green eyes grew serious again, and his smile vanished. His hands moved to her waist, and he slowly drew her against his chest. “Maybe we should get the awkwardness of this arrangement out of the way with a practice kiss. My grandmother will expect nothing less than a demonstration of our affection for each other.”

“That sounds like a sound strategy,” Ellie replied, trying to remind herself that this was all it was to Connor—a way to encourage his grandmother to get better.

Connor slowly pressed his lips against hers. Desire flared, bright and hot. The kind of desire she hadn’t felt in years.

His lips firmed as he tilted his head. The kiss changed, and he was in command, parting her lips, invading her mouth, laying claim. Memories surged—brilliant moments she’d shared with this man when they’d both been idealistic and young. Need and desire infused her, and him, no longer a memory but real. Instead of fighting him, she tunneled her hands through his hair, surprising herself with her response as their mutual hunger launched them into a spiraling vortex. A small part of her brain reveled in the fact that she could still have this effect on him, that he could want her as much now as he had back then.

He pressed against her, his need as demanding as her own. Passion flared, hotter than she remembered. And suddenly she wanted more than just a kiss. They’d never gone beyond that in high school, but they were older and more experienced now.

And married.

Ellie tensed.

Connor’s lips softened on hers, and he broke the kiss. He stared down into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Her breath caught in her chest. “I can’t believe I didn’t ask this before. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No,” he replied, his voice still heavy with the passion they’d shared. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

She shook her head.

Satisfaction flared in his eyes. “That’s good, because explaining our marriage would have been awkward otherwise.”

She stepped back out of his reach. “Just how real do you expect this ‘marriage’ of ours to appear to our friends and family?”

“Are we back to those rules you talked about a few minutes ago?” he asked, still studying her lips.

She tried to look away but found she could not. “Do you expect me to share a bed with you?”

“While no one else is around, you can sleep wherever you want. But if we have guests, then we must maintain the illusion that we’re sharing more than a house.”

“Anything else?”

His gaze narrowed. “Are you talking about sex?”

She nodded again.

A smile pulled up the corners of his mouth. “Only if we both agree, but there will be no trying to fall in love.”

“No worries there, Grayson. I learned that lesson long ago.”

His smile vanished. “You know, maybe this whole situation happened for a reason. Maybe it’s our chance to put our past behind us, and we can relearn how to be friends.”

“Friends?” They had been friends once, before they’d let their attraction get out of hand. “For how long? Your grandmother could be around for years to come,” she said, needing him to be specific about just how long this arrangement could continue.

“We can’t know how long it will take Grandmother to heal, or to . . .” The words faded away as his voice became strained.

“Neither of us wants to be in this situation forever. Right?” Ellie asked.

He nodded. “I realize it’s a lot to ask of you, to stay married to me for weeks on end. How about a compromise? We’ll agree to stay married until Grayson House opens for the Holiday Street of Dreams.”

“And if your grandmother isn’t better by then?”