Page 17 of Hitched to my Boss

"We barely know each other."

"We barely know each other."

"But..."

"But?"

The rest is a champagne-soaked blur. Elvis singing "Can't Help Falling in Love." Jason's hands shaking as he slides a ring onto my finger. Me promising to love and cherish someone I met a week ago. Both of us laughing and crying and meaning every word even though we'll barely remember saying them.

The last clear memory I have is Jason carrying me back to the hotel, both of us wearing matching rings and grinning like we've just pulled off the greatest adventure of our lives.

"Mrs. Wallace," he says as the elevator doors close.

"Mr. Wallace," I say back, and then we're kissing like the world might end, and everything fades to champagne-golden happiness.

The rest is darkness, warmth, and the distant knowledge that we've just done something completely insane that we're definitely going to regret in the morning.

But right now, in this moment, it feels like the most perfect mistake we could have possibly made.

5

JASON

My head feels like someone used it for target practice with a sledgehammer.

I crack one eye open, immediately regretting the decision as bright Vegas sunlight assaults my retinas. The room spins gently, reminding me why I gave up drinking after college. My mouth tastes like I've been chewing cotton balls soaked in regret.

And there's something warm pressed against my side.

I turn my head carefully, and my heart stops. Natalia is curled against me, her dark hair spread across my chest, one arm draped over my ribs. She's naked. Completely, gloriously naked, and so am I.

What the hell happened last night?

I remember the cocktail reception. Marcus Hartwell buying us champagne after I'd claimed to be Natalia's boyfriend. The way she'd looked at me when I'd put my arm around her, like she was seeing something in me she hadn't expected. More champagne. Hartwell introducing us to other ranchers, each conversation flowing easier than the last.

But after that, things get fuzzy. There are fragments: Natalia laughing at something I said, her hand in mine as we walked through the casino, more drinks, the way she looked in that green dress under the neon lights. The feeling that for the first time in years, I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

And then... nothing. Complete blackout until waking up in what appears to be my hotel bed with my very naked PR consultant pressed against me like she belongs there.

Natalia stirs, making a soft sound that goes straight to my cock that are apparently unaffected by my hangover. Her hand moves across my chest, and I have to bite back a groan.

"Mmm," she murmurs, then goes completely still.

I can feel the exact moment awareness hits her. Her body tenses, her breathing changes, and she lifts her head to look at me with brown eyes that are wide with shock and confusion.

“What the fu… We didn’t … did we?” Her questions come out as a jumbled mess.

“I don’t know,” I respond honestly. “But I don’t think we had sex. That is something I would for sure remember, and trust me, you would know from the lingering ache.”

Natalia rolls her eyes, but a smile breaks through her panic. "Please tell me you remember what happened last night." Her voice is rough with sleep and what I'm guessing is her own hangover.

"I remember the cocktail reception. And champagne. Lots of champagne." I try to piece together more fragments, but there's a significant gap between celebrating our success with Hartwell and waking up naked with Natalia. "After that, it's pretty much a blur."

She sits up, clutching the sheet to her chest, and I try not to notice how the morning light plays across her bare shoulders or how her hair falls in waves around her face. This is not the timeto be thinking about how beautiful she looks, even hungover and confused.

"We need to figure out what happened," she says, scanning the room like it might contain clues.

That's when I notice something glinting on her left hand. Something that definitely wasn't there yesterday.

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