The Marine's E-Mail Order Bride (Heroes of Chance Creek Book 3) (2 page)

“What about your wedding?” Was Kenna joking? Storm had just thrown her life into an uproar to get here.

“That’s what I mean—you’ll have to take my place.”

Storm pulled the phone away from her face and stared at it. Lifting it back to her ear, she said, “What are you talking about?”

“You’ll have to be Kenna North for the next six weeks. All you have to do is hang out with the cowboy, marry him at Thanksgiving, stay a couple more days and then leave. I’m supposed to be going to the Andes then, anyway. No one will know the difference.”

“Your husband will!”

“Don’t play dumb. You know as well as I do there’s nothing real about this marriage. Zane doesn’t care who the bride is. He’s seen one photo of me—tell him it was an old one. Say you’ve grown out your hair.”

“That’s insane!” Kenna was five inches taller than Storm and could probably bench-press her, too. Every inch of Kenna was muscle. Her features were much stronger than Storm’s. Apart from the fact they were both blonde, they didn’t share more than a passing resemblance.

“It’ll be fine.”

She had to be kidding. “What about my ID? The minute he sees my driver’s license, he’ll know I’m lying.”

“I’ve already taken care of that. Your new identity is on its way. You’ll get an envelope by the end of the day. Zane’s got the marriage license and we’ve both already signed the pre-nup, so you don’t even need to worry about that.”

“You’re buying fake ID’s now?”

The knock sounded at the door again.

“Someone’s here,” Storm told Kenna. “Is that the courier?”

“That’s your husband. Go answer it.”

“No! Kenna, no—I won’t do it. No way. This is crazy.”

“Ah, but it’s lucrative, too.”

Storm stood still. “How lucrative?” She hated herself for even asking.

“Thirty thousand dollars lucrative. All you have to do is pretend to be me for six weeks, marry him and leave. I’ll take care of the rest. You’ll get a check the minute I receive my inheritance. This is important,” she added when Storm didn’t answer. “This climb—it’s the chance of a lifetime for me.”

Storm sat down on the bed. Thirty thousand dollars? Enough to pay off all their debts with a little left over?

She couldn’t say yes, though. She couldn’t perpetrate a fraud.

“Zane Hall wants a fake wife as much as I want a fake husband,” Kenna said. “He has to fool his family into thinking he’s getting married to inherit the ranch he lives on. He’s in exactly the same position I am—and he’s under a deadline. Come on, Storm. You can do this.”

The knock came again.

“I’ll probably end up in jail,” Storm said finally.

“You won’t end up in jail. Let me make this simple for you. Marry the cowboy or lose your job. I’ll get in touch when I can.” Kenna cut the call.

Storm lowered the phone slowly and faced the door, her thoughts too tangled to make sense. A fake marriage? Six weeks? Thirty thousand dollars? As she debated her options, a single image came into her mind—her mother and sisters standing in the doorway of the seaside home they loved so much, waving good-bye as she left in a cab for the airport. She knew what Cheyenne would want her to do. Marry the man and get the cash.

Storm wasn’t wired that way, though. She was law-abiding. She did things honorably. That’s why she hadn’t skipped out on her mother even when friend after friend told her she was crazy to stay at home and help raise her sisters instead of leaving and starting her own life when she turned eighteen.

She’d always taken the high road and she wasn’t about to change that now. Storm squared her shoulders. Kenna would have to come home after all. She’d tell the cowboy her boss had been delayed and call Kenna back and demand she get on the first flight out of Nepal.

She pulled open the door, and the words she had prepared to say died on her lips. Outside stood the most handsome man she’d ever seen. He was six foot two, she estimated, with shoulders wide enough to support a world of cares. His features were strong, his hazel eyes frank but intelligent. He wore jeans that were worn to a comfortable fit, and a forest green, button-down shirt layered over a white T-shirt. As she stared at him, transfixed by his easy smile, the strong line of his jaw, and the flash of interest in his eyes when he saw her, he touched the brim of his cowboy hat. “Hi, I’m Zane Hall,” he said in a voice that held just a hint of a western twang.

“Hi,” she heard herself answer. “I’m Kenna North.”

Zane Hall breathed
a sigh of relief when the motel room door finally opened, relief that turned to shock as it revealed a young woman with blue eyes and a sheet of blonde hair flowing to her waist. She was petite, delicate, with a mouth made for kissing and a curvy figure that had all his senses perking up despite his resolutions not to fall for his temporary bride. Sheer surprise had him grinning as he touched the brim of his hat.

Kenna North was a knockout. He hadn’t been prepared for that.

She was far prettier than Julie Simpson, the woman who’d driven him to choose this fake marriage rather than searching for the real thing. When he’d learned last spring that he and his brothers had a chance to inherit Crescent Hall, the family ranch they’d had to leave years ago, he’d felt like he’d been given another lease on life. He’d already planned to leave the Marines in the fall. Going home to Montana and working the spread with his brothers had been a secret dream of his the entire twelve years they’d been gone.

Then he learned the catch. Among other requirements, he and his brothers all had to marry within the year. They’d decided the prize was worth it. His oldest brother, Mason, and Zane’s twin, Austin, had both used the Internet to find wives and were now happily married. He’d thought he’d be able to do it, too.

He’d been wrong.

He’d used the Internet in a slightly different way than his brothers had. The original ad Mason had placed for all of them hadn’t produced any candidates who interested him, so he’d looked up a woman he’d known in the early days of his military career. A fellow Marine, she’d only been stationed with him for a short time and while they’d flirted shamelessly during that period, he’d been too conscious of the dangers of fraternization among the ranks to act on his attraction. He figured it was a connection worth pursuing now, however, given the short time-frame he had to work with.

Julie Simpson answered his first message eagerly and soon they’d gotten in the habit of texting daily and calling when they could. She’d been stationed at Camp Lejeune while he was finishing his time in the military at Camp Pendleton, but that didn’t curtail their communications. Their conversations ran from politics to military tactics, with a heavy dose of silliness and sexual innuendo. Julie was shameless; she had no filters and would have him hooting with laughter and half-hard, all at the same time. He couldn’t quite pin down what she felt for him, though. There was too much joking mixed up in her lustful texts to be sure.

After five or six weeks of bantering and feeling her out to make sure there wasn’t a boyfriend lurking in the wings, Zane finally asked if she’d like to try to spend the weekend together if they could arrange time off simultaneously.

Julie hadn’t answered for three days.

By the time he received her next text, he’d beaten himself up ten ways from Sunday for being an ass and a fool. He wasn’t sure if he’d jumped the gun or if Julie thought they were still simply pals from boot camp. Her answer explained everything.

“You do know I’m gay, right?”

He hadn’t had a clue. It was his turn not to answer out of embarrassment that he’d read the situation so wrong, but she’d called and kept calling until he finally picked up.

“Seriously, Hall? You thought I was hitting on you?”

“I hoped you were.” He’d tried for a light tone but wasn’t sure it had worked. Their correspondence had tapered off, and he’d been back to the starting point. With only six months left to beat Heloise’s deadline, he’d decided a fake wife was the way to go. He couldn’t risk any more surprises.

His new wife-wanted ad made it clear the marriage would be a business transaction plain and simple. Unfortunately, the answers he’d received were enough to turn his hair white—until he got a matter-of-fact note from Kenna North, mountain climber, whose father obviously felt the need to meddle in her life the way his Great Aunt Heloise felt the need to meddle in his.

In order to secure a substantial inheritance, I need a fake husband for a period of six months, most of which time I’ll be out of the country on climbing expeditions. My demands are few. I need proof of the marriage, a water-tight pre-nup, and your agreement to divorce without contest when the six months are up. If you can keep your demands similarly reasonable, we may be able to make a deal.

He had kept his demands as reasonable as possible. Six weeks on his family’s ranch to establish that she was indeed his willing fiancée, before a Thanksgiving wedding attended by all his kin. After that she was free to leave for her next climbing trip. An appearance or two when she was back in the country until the six months were up, by which time his aunt would have signed over the deed on the ranch to him and his brothers.

It was all very simple. Cut and dried. Just the way he wanted his love life from now on until he had more time to dedicate to the process. The next time he proposed to a woman, he’d have lived with her for at least a year, he promised himself—long enough to know all her secrets. No one would catch him off guard again.

The woman framed in the motel room doorway had him reevaluating all his plans. This wasn’t how he had pictured Kenna at all. From the little her photo had shown he’d imagined her as tall, muscular and matter-of-fact. What happened to her spiky haircut? Not that he missed it. Not one bit.

“Hi, I’m Zane Hall,” he said finally.

“I’m Kenna North.” She peered up at him, seeming as surprised at his appearance as he was at hers. He’d thought the photograph he sent her was a fairly good one, but maybe he’d been wrong.

“Can I come in?”

She hesitated, her gaze flicking over him. Zane stilled. Was she judging him? What would she do if he wasn’t up to snuff? His family was expecting to meet her tomorrow and he didn’t have a backup plan if she cancelled the deal. They didn’t know she had flown in today to spend the night in town. Kenna had demanded a grace period to make sure he wasn’t an axe murderer, as she put it, or otherwise unsuitable to masquerade as her husband temporarily. It had seemed like a reasonable request at the time.

Now all he wanted to know was how soon he could get her into his bed.

Zane caught himself. Wait… no. That wasn’t what this deal was about. He was done rushing into relationships. In fact, Kenna herself had been all too clear that touching each other was off-limits, save for the few kisses they’d need to share in public to fool his family.

He was suddenly looking forward to those kisses.

“How about we go for a walk instead? I’ve been sitting all morning,” she said. “Let me get my purse.”

“Okay.” He put his hat back on and waited, giving himself a mental talking-to. Ten seconds in Kenna’s company and he was ready to renege on all the promises he’d made himself? Kenna was a very temporary bride and she was entirely unsuitable for him to pursue. She had made it clear her life was mountain climbing. She traveled the world and came home just long enough to set up her next expedition. He was very clear that he wanted a wife who’d make a future with him here on the ranch. No more detours down romantic paths that couldn’t work out. From now on he was waiting until he found a woman who wanted to marry and settle down right here as much as he did. “How were your flights?” he asked when Kenna returned. He looked her over again as she shut and locked the motel room door. Everything about her was overtly feminine. How had a tiny thing like her climbed all those mountains?

“Just fine.” She seemed as nervous as he was as she led the way toward the stairs.

“Where would you like to walk?” he asked.

“Can you recommend a place?”

“I can show you downtown.”

“Sure.”

They were silent as they took the stairs down to the street, and Zane searched for something to say, distracted by her figure as she negotiated the steps in front of him. There was something soft and sweet about her that made him feel protective of her—which was silly. This woman had explored some of the most dangerous places on earth. “I’m glad you’re here.” He was surprised to find he really meant it. He
was
glad she was here. In fact, he was looking forward to getting to know her a whole lot better. He frowned. Damn it, there he went again.

“I’m glad I’m here too.” She shot him a look over her shoulder. “I mean, it’s strange but it’s… better than I expected.”

Was that a blush tracing over her cheeks? Zane’s body responded with a throb of interest. “Strange because…”

She shrugged. “Meeting like this. Lying to people about the fact we don’t even know each other.”

Uh-oh. Was she having second thoughts? “I’ve done stranger things in the Marines. I’m sure you must have found yourself in some tight spots in the mountains.”

She was silent a moment. “Oh… of course. The mountains. It’s just.” She waved a hand. “Marriage. That’s a pretty big deal, isn’t it?”

When he didn’t answer, she glanced up again. They reached the bottom of the stairs and Zane led the way toward the street. “It is to me,” he finally said.

“Really? Why did you agree to this, then?”

He frowned as they walked side by side. “Same reason you did. I want my inheritance.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.” She shrugged. “Sorry. Jet lag.”

“Neither of us likes to lie, right? We’ve just been forced into it by our circumstances.”

“You’re right; I hate lying. Especially about marriage.”

Taken aback by her vehemence, Zane digested this in silence, turning left at the corner in order to avoid the busier roads. He didn’t want to risk one of his brothers driving by and spotting him with Kenna. They needed this chance to sync up their stories before he took her home.

Since he’d only been back in town for a week, himself, normally he’d have taken the opportunity to analyze the changes in Chance Creek during his long absence. Today his attention was squarely on Kenna, though. In her e-mails she had struck him as the most practical of women. He hadn’t expected her to have qualms. Or to care about marriage.