“I know. Just confirmed my plan to never have children.”
“Could that be why Carina wants to get married?”
“No way. I haven’t told a soul. Not even Fordham. Besides, the kid has to be eighteen to inherit.” Branson balled his fists until his fingernails bit into his palm. When he spoke again, his voice was croaky. “How can he hate me so much?”
A hand squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Branson. Your dad sucks. If it makes you feel any better, my parents like you better than me.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, threatening a smile. “I can’t blame them.”
He anticipated the shove that knocked him off balance.
“You’re such a jerk,” Finn said playfully. Then he gripped Bran’s arm. “There was this guy I used to know… His name was Branson Knight. He was always up for an adventure. Nothing he wouldn’t try. He didn’t give a flip what anybody thought, least of all his pretentious father.”
“Sounds like a fun guy.” Bran grinned, somehow feeling lighter than he had in a long time.
“There was nothing he’d like better than pulling a fast one on a fiancée who’s bound to have something up her sleeve.”
Yes. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Carina had to be hiding something. Two could play that game. In a flash, Bran was a college freshman, planning a prank on the hall bully, with the help of his three roommates. Those had been the happiest days of his life, before he got bogged down in responsibilities.
“What did you have in mind?” Bran asked.
“It depends. First… about Carina… It seems like you’d reject any woman your father might like. How determined are you to marry her and complete your business deal?”
“Less by the minute. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I have to find some other way to get control of that CF drug. I’m still ticked someone got the Astons to sell their shares.”
“Are you sure she’s telling the truth about that?” asked Finn.
“No, I guess not. I’ll message Fordham. Maybe he can find out the real reason Carina wants to rush this marriage.”
“How far are you willing to go to beat Carina at her own game—whatever that is?” Finn’s slight English lilt grew heavier as he got more excited. “Ready to get a marriage license with me?”
“I’m in,” Bran swore. “I’ll do whatever you say. But Finn, I’m warning you...”
“About what?”
“If you and I end up married, you better not try to kiss me on the lips.”
Bran heard garbled laughter. Then a hand grasped his and shook it with so much vigor his shoulder almost came out of joint.
“Branson Knight,” Finn said his name with a chuckle. “Glad to have you back again.”
With a text on the way to Fordham, Branson joined the rowdy group on the trek to the clerk’s office. Carina pulled him to the back of the limo and plastered herself to his side. He wanted to push her away, but he needed to soothe her suspicions if he was going to uncover the truth.
As her fingertips slid up his thigh, he clamped his hand on top of hers to stop its progress.
“What’s the matter, Branson?” Her silvery voice, meant to entice, set his teeth on edge like fingernails scraping on a chalkboard. “Are you mad at me?”
“Of course not. I’m just tense.” He listened to the other conversations inside the limousine, relieved to hear everyone laughing and chatting. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them. He lifted her hand and placed it on her knee, covering it with his own to hold it in place.
“I’m sure I could help you with that tension.”
Her suggestion made him shudder. “Not now, Carina. But I’d like to know how your father found out about the buyer. If the Astons told him, he must know who it is.”
“Dad didn’t have time to explain the details. Only said they expect a hostile takeover attempt any day.”
“It could affect the company’s stock prices, too.”
“I’m sure it won’t,” she answered a little too quickly. “Dad said Aston-Parker is extremely stable right now. Shouldn’t affect us at all.”
Why would she deny the obvious possibility?
“But a takeover—especially a hostile one—would probably send prices plummeting.”
“We won’t let that happen. That’s why we should get married tomorrow, while we’re here, and sign the contract for my shares. Monday could be too late.”
“Right now, I want to get this license thing over with and get back to the tournament.”
“You’re not being very romantic,” she whined. “Aren’t you even a little bit excited? We’re on our way to get our marriage license.”
“For a marriage that will last a few months,” Branson added. “I have to say, I’m surprised you’d consider getting married in a Las Vegas wedding chapel. Figured you’d want a big to-do with a long white dress and a fancy dinner.”
“I’m planning on it. We’ll have a proper wedding when we get home.”
“I’m not interested in an elaborate wedding.” Not interested in any wedding. Maybe a bachelor’s party, though.
“What are you smiling about?” She leaned into him, nuzzling at the base of his neck. “Thinking about the wedding night?”
