Page 74 of When He Plays

“Logan, I can’t…” Charlotte began breathlessly.

His jaw hardened. His eyes narrowed. But he moved his head in a jerky nod⁠—

“I can’t get married in a paper gown from the hospital. That is just tacky, tacky, tacky.”

His lips had parted. For a moment, she thought that he’d turned to stone. Take that, Logan. She’d just met his bluff and proved that she couldn’t be scared off⁠—

He shrugged out of his tux coat. Tucked her arms in it. Even buttoned one button to close it around her. “There,” he told her triumphantly. “Now you’re fancy. Fancy, fancy, fancy.”

They were going through the drive-thru. Barney had driven them to the chapel. No line. No wait.

Was this even legal?

Logan leaned forward. He lowered the window near him and…

She was getting married in a hospital gown and in his tux, and maybe she was still feeling the effects of the drugs because…

This could not be real.

“Oh, look at that,” Logan exclaimed as she was getting married. As the officiant was leaning out of the drive-thru window and performing an actual wedding ceremony. “I happen to have a ring.” And he really and truly pulled a gorgeous diamond and pearl ring from a pocket and slid it onto her ring finger.

It fit perfectly.

“Where in the world did you get this?” she asked, dazed, temporarily ignoring the officiant who was leaning toward them. “Do you just walk around with rings like this in your pocket all the time?” Then, worse thought, “Did you win this in your poker game with Ares?”

“No, baby. That’s a family ring. It belonged to my grandmother. She gave it to me a long time ago. Told me it was for my wife.”

Shock hit her like a crashing wave. So much shock that she missed the officiant’s words. So much shock that she might have even whispered, “Yes” at one point. Or maybe it was more like, “Yes, I do.”

As for Logan…

“Hell, yes. I definitely do.”

Then…

“Guess what?” Logan’s anticipation purred in his voice. “Pretty sure this is the part where I kiss the bride.”

And he did.

Spies weren’t the only ones who could concoct elaborate mission plans. Case in point…

“I can walk,” Charlotte mumbled. Then she snuggled closer against his chest and made no motion to stand on her own, much less walk.

He was currently carrying her through the lobby of his hotel, heading for the bank of elevators. His guards curled around them, and even though it was the middle of the night, some of the hotel guests milled in the area and cast curious glances his way.

What? Had they never seen a bride in a hospital gown/tux combo get carried up to her suite?

Bride.

That would be step one in his mission plan. The plan that wasn’t about killing some international murderer. Though, sure, he’d do that, too. The jerk had drugged Charlotte, after all, and had her marked as a target. Not like Logan could let that kind of crap stand.

He reached the elevator bank. The doors to the elevator on the left parted, and he marched in with his bride.

“This is more than a little embarrassing.” She cuddled closer to him. “Am I flashing everyone?”

“No employee of mine would dare look at my wife’s body in any inappropriate way.” His voice carried. Clearly.

His VP of security frowned at him. Evans had been leading the guards. “Wife?”