The Prenup - Lauren Layne Page 0,65

and it’s way too much given our … situation.”

“Keep it,” he says gruffly.

“But—”

“Keep it.”

“Well, I guess you can’t do anything with it,” I say. “You probably don’t want to drive all the way to Hudson to return it. Oh, I know! You could give it to Rebecca!”

He lets out a surprised laugh at my cheerful sarcasm. “That should go over well. Besides, it’s not her style.”

I scowl, slightly offended. “It’s gorgeous. It’s everyone’s style.”

“She’s more … modern.”

“Ah.” I twist the ring. “I am too, usually, but this one … it’s special.”

There’s another moment of silence.

“So you two have talked about rings?” I ask softly. “Have you shopped yet?”

This sense of not really wanting to know while also really needing to know is increasingly familiar and highly annoying.

Colin shakes his head and stands. “I’m not going to talk about ring shopping with one woman who’s not even here, while I’m in the same room as a woman who’s supposed to be my wife. You are my wife.”

The words cause an ache deep inside of me, but I force a bright smile. “Good! That’s good. That tone’s exactly what you should use in front of Gordon Price.”

“What tone?”

“You know.” I flex my muscles and squeeze my own bicep. “All manly and possessive. It’s good. Husbandly. Like I’m yours. Have you been practicing?”

Colin doesn’t have a chance to answer because the doorbell rings.

My eyes go wide. “Is that him? I told the guys at the front desk to let him up whenever he got here, but he’s super early!”

“It’s a smart tactic,” Colin says grimly. “Catching people off guard before they can put the final polish on.”

“Well, he already knows our relationship’s got a bit of tarnish,” I say as we head down the hall to the front door. “All we have to do is convince him that everything was shiny and new back in the beginning.”

He nods in agreement, glancing down at me before opening the door. I feel a moment of panic—a moment of something—and reach out and grab his hand. He squeezes my fingers briefly, his gaze holding mine before dropping my hand and opening the door.

Chapter 32

Thursday, October 29

“We did it,” I say, dropping into the new chair in the home office in a daze. “Holy crap, I think we actually did it.”

“Well, I’m sure your descriptive accounts about our sexual proclivities helped,” Colin says, handing me a glass of Champagne.

“It wasn’t that pornographic. He just asked if you were a neat freak in all areas, and I said, no, not always. That in the more intimate areas of your life, you were actually quite—”

“Yeah,” he interrupts. “I was there. I remember.”

“This is good,” I say, looking at the glass of Champagne in surprise. “What is it?”

“Expensive,” he says, dropping into the chair beside me. “Think that bottle I bought for the halfway mark, and double it.”

“Well, it was worth it. And we have plenty to celebrate,” I say, lifting my glass. “Gordon Price all but told us that the third and final interview would just be a formality.”

“Thanks to you,” he says, watching me. “I’m fairly certain you saved the day yet again this afternoon by mentioning Rebecca’s ex.”

“I did, didn’t I?” I say smugly, pulling my legs beneath me. “I figured if he knew we knew who’d tipped him off about our marriage and knew that the person had a personal vendetta, it might diffuse some of his interest.”

“He didn’t seem all that interested to begin with,” Colin says, studying his Champagne.

“No, not really,” I agree.

As nerve-racking as today had been, Gordon Price had seemed more like bored government employee than shark out to expose us for the frauds we were. His questions had been rote, his demeanor indifferent. Either he’d been trying to lull us into complacency so that we’d relax too much and slip up and spill the beans, or he’d been truly disinterested.

Mostly he’d wandered from room to room, checking boxes, asking the exact same questions I’d found on the Internet, with no follow-up. Who cooked? Me. Did I know how Colin took his coffee? Black. Who was the messy one? Me. What side of the bed did we sleep on? Left, him; right, me. Did my messiness bother Colin? “Most assuredly, yes.”

On that, at least, he’d been able to answer quite honestly.

Just like I had quite honestly “let it slip” that Colin’s lover had an ex with a vendetta who’d love nothing more than to see Colin deported. Gordon Price, God bless him,