Page 15 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

That’s weird. I don’t wear gold jewelry.

I lift my hand closer to my face, and the room starts spinning.

Holy shit. That’s a wedding ring. A WEDDING RING.

A deeper panic slams into me like a freight train. I bolt upright, ignoring the violent protest from my head, and stare at my hand in horror.

“What the actual fuck?” I hiss.

Dom stirs beside me, groaning. “Keep it down,” he mumbles sleepily.

“Dom,” I say. “Dom, wake up.”

He rolls over, one arm flung dramatically over his eyes. “Five more minutes.”

“DOMINIC!” I smack his chest with my left hand.

The gold band makes contact with his skin, and something about the sound must cut through his hangover because his eyes fly open.

“What the—” He grabs my hand, staring at the ring. Then, with dawning horror, he raises his own left hand.

An identical gold band gleams mockingly in the morning light.

“No,” he says. “No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way,” I reply, yanking my hand back. “We’re... we’re...”

I can’t even say it. Saying it makes it real.

Dom sits up now, sheets pooling around his waist. Under different circumstances, I’d appreciate the view. Right now, I’m too busy having a coronary.

He rubs his temple. “This has to be a joke. Leo probably—”

“It’s not a joke.” I point to the nightstand where a crumpled paper sits. Even from here, I can make out the official seal of Clark County, Nevada.

Dom grabs it, scanning the document with increasingly frantic eyes. “Marriage Certificate... Dominic Anthony Rossi... Tatiana Elizabeth Cole... what the FUCK?”

“That’s what I’d like to know!” I scramble out of bed, suddenly aware of my complete nakedness. I grab the nearest piece of clothing, one of his dress shirts, and pull it on.

Two years ago I was left at the altar. Now I’ve jumped three spaces and advanced directly to GO, skipping the altar entirely. What the hell is wrong with me?

“This is your fault,” I say, pacing the luxurious suite.

“MY fault?” Dom looks incredulous. “How exactly is this my fault?”

“Because I’d never marry...” I pause, remembering something that happened in the cabana.

“I was drugged! We both were!” I stop pacing to glare at him. “Whose friend brought the GHB? Leo. And who’s friends with Leo? YOU.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault, right? If I recall, you’re the one that took it first!”

“That’s because you dared me!” My voice rises to a pitch that makes us both wince.

“No I didn’t!” he retorts.

“Yes you did!” I insist.

Dom falls back against the pillows. “Jesus Christ. I’m married. I’m actually married.”

---