Free Married To The Boss by Lori Foster Page A

had squeezed her hand and whispered, “Dana, you know R.J. doesn’t do anything halfway. You probably should have expected this.” But she hadn’t.
    And now R.J. had another surprise for her.
    Dana blinked at the box. “What is it?”
    R.J. grinned and she privately thought he was the most charming, handsome man she’d ever seen. He looked stunning in his dark suit and white shirt, and there was a white rosebud in his lapel. “I promise you’ll find out if you open the box.”
    Very aware of everyone looking at her with expectation, Dana lifted the lid on the cardboard box and carefully pulled apart tissue paper. Quietly she caught her breath. Lush, fully bloomed, creamy white roses and rosebuds, baby’s breath and delicate orchids were framed by intricate white lace and long, dangling ribbons.
    He’d bought her a wedding bouquet.
    Tears threatened, and she struggled to subdue them. Ever since he’d made his proposition, her emotions had been on a roller coaster ride, winging high with excitement and an irrepressible, ridiculous hope, then soaring to the depths with stark reality. This wasall for show, a complete sham. She wondered why everyone smiled. Did they truly not know? R.J. had always had his pick of beautiful women; why would any sane person believe he’d marry her for love?
    Faint music started, startling her anew, and R.J. took her arm to turn her toward the altar. The judge stood in front of it, his face alight with pleasure. Hope had taken her place to the right of the judge, smiling despite the fact she knew this was all contrived.
    Drake Logan, Hope’s husband and R.J.’s good friend, stood to the left of the judge. Megan stood beside Hope, and Dana realized they all had flowers now. Hope and Megan wore corsages that matched her bouquet, and a white rosebud was tucked in Drake’s lapel. Why had R.J. gone to all this trouble? Dana wondered.
    But, of course, Hope had been right. When R.J. did something, he did it right, with no room for chance. He wouldn’t want any speculation about the authenticity of the wedding.
    â€œYou’re not going to faint on me, are you?” R.J. whispered in her ear as he gently urged her forward.
    Numbly, she shook her head, though fainting seemed a very real possibility. “I’m fine.”
    He chuckled and gave her hand a squeeze. “A typical answer for you. Tell me, do you ever complain about anything?”
    The question startled her. “Why would I complain to you? You’re my boss, not my counselor or therapist.”
    â€œI thought I was your friend, as well.”
    They were keeping their voices low, barely audible over the music. Dana nodded. “A friend, but one with limitations.”
    His eyes glittered down at her. “I’m soon to be your husband.”
    Unable to hide her feelings, she gave him a stark look. “Not really.” By this time they had reached the judge, who started in with the prescribed ceremony. Dana could feel the heat of R.J.’s annoyance beside her, but she refused to let herself be deluded. This wedding was meant to repair his reputation, nothing more. His gestures with the flowers and music were appreciated, but then, R.J. was always considerate of the women he associated with. His generosity was well known, but a smart woman understood that it didn’t represent anything beyond superficial affection and a desire to please at best, an intelligent tactic at worst. Either way, it was a long, long stretch from love.
    â€œIf you don’t answer him, sweetheart, I’m going to be mortified.”
    She heard the teasing in R.J.’s tone and saw the amusement on everyone’s face. Her cheeks heated. She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t even heard the question. But the judge was looking at her expectantly, and she knew the appropriate answer. “Yes.”
    R.J. gave a rumbling chuckle and again squeezed her hand.