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“I didn’t make an appointment, so we’ll probably have to wait a bit.”

“Will that mess up Ilsa’s schedule?”

He pulled out his phone and pulled up the message from the wedding coordinator. Trina leaned forward, read the message, and sat back with a short giggle. “She’s cleared the whole day? Lucky us.”

“Lucky us,” he echoed. The previous email, one he hadn’t shared with Trina, had been a discussion about wedding rings—stones, settings, and styles—and venue options he thought she’d enjoy.

She lifted the cover from the plate closest to her. “Maple sausage?” she queried.

“Among other things.” He’d requested French toast and a veggie omelet to give her plenty of choices. “Dig in. The office opens at nine.”

“I’m famished,” she said, picking up her fork. “Thanks.”

They talked more about room service menus and memorable chefs they’d worked with through their careers. He got the impression she was deliberately avoiding wedding talk. He didn’t mind. They’d be talking it over plenty in another couple of hours.

When they finished breakfast he pocketed his wallet, phone, and passport while she slipped on her sandals andgrabbed her purse. The shoes gave her a subtle height boost and he had to drag his attention away from her mouth. Was there any way to make sure he could kiss her on their wedding day? It was usually part of the ceremony, but he’d cope with it if she opted out.

Obviously.

He wasn’t a pushy bastard, just a regular man who was increasingly attracted to a woman who didn’t seem to share the same level of interest.

What did he expect? It wasn’t as if they shared the same close friendship as their fathers. The opposite, actually. Up until a few months ago, he could barely think of her without annoyance or outright animosity, harboring sour feelings over the way she outshined him back in college.

He’d done a helluva one-eighty since finding her upset and scared on the beach last night. That wasn’t entirely accurate. He hadn’t looked at her as theenemybefore France, only after she’d defeated him time and again during their program. Now, over a decade later, he silently vowed to earn her trust and confidence in him and his commitment to this wacky plan. His commitment to protecting her.

“I’m looking forward to meeting Ilsa,” she said as they walked toward the clerk’s office.

He casually offered his hand, feeling victorious when she seized it. “You two will adore each other,” he promised.

To their mutual surprise, they didn’t have to wait more than a few minutes before their paperwork was reviewed and they were issued a marriage license.

“That seems way too easy,” she observed under her breath as they walked back to the car.

“Take the win,” he urged. “Gives you and Ilsa more time to bond.”

She smiled at him, her eyes hidden behind her sunglassesas he opened the car door for her. “You really think the world of her.”

He nodded. “She’s amazing. You’ll see.”

She didn’t immediately move into the passenger seat. Instead, she lingered, way too close for his comfort. He was too aware of her, of how the sunshine sparked off her glossy hair and warmed her skin, lifting her scent to wind around him.

“Trina?”

Her fingers lightly covered his where he clung to the top of the open door. “I need to say it one more time.” Her full lips pressed together for a moment. “Having an option is a relief in and of itself. But going through with it? I’m worried this will screw up our lives. Mine’s a mess, but yours?—”

“Let me stop you right there.” He had to pause before he leaned in and stole a kiss she wasn’t offering. “I will disagree with you one more time. Or as many times as it takes. I’m in.”

“But, Rhett.”

He shook his head. “You were afraid last night.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Then this is where I need to be. Where I want to be.”

She gave a small, jerky nod. “Okay.” And finally showed some mercy and slipped into the car.

He closed the door, deliberately ignoring the glimpse of her legs as the skirt drifted higher.