Page 41 of The Rancher Married the Wrong Sister (Billionaires of Evergreen, Texas #13)

“DO YOU, GAVINE LAUNCELOT , take Wednesday Arthurs to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

The judge’s voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater. Everything feels surreal, like I’m watching someone else’s life unfold from behind thick glass.

This isn’t how weddings are supposed to happen.

There should be flowers. Music. A dress I actually chose instead of this simple cream sheath I bought in a panic yesterday. There should be guests who came because they wanted to witness love, not whatever cold transaction this is.

But most of all, there should be a groom who actually wants to marry me.

Gavine hasn’t looked at me once since we walked into this sterile courthouse office. His jaw is carved from granite, his dark eyes fixed somewhere over the judge’s shoulder like he’s mentally reviewing quarterly reports instead of exchanging vows.

He’s breathtakingly handsome in his charcoal suit. Tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of commanding presence that makes everyone else in the room fade into background noise. I can see why Jessica was drawn to him. He’s everything she always said she wanted: powerful, wealthy, untouchable.

And unfortunately, he’s everything I apparently want too.

Which is ridiculous. And terrifying. Because I’ve never felt anything like this before.

This pull, this heat that blooms in my chest every time I steal a glance at him.

I shouldn’t be noticing how his expensive suit molds to his broad shoulders, or how his large hands would feel on my skin, or how his voice does something strange and fluttery to my insides.

I’ve never had these kinds of thoughts about any man. Not even close.

“I do.” His voice is flat, businesslike. He could be approving a merger.

The deep rumble of it sends an unwanted shiver down my spine. Even when he’s being completely cold, his voice affects me in ways that make my cheeks burn.

The judge turns to me, and my chest tightens like a fist is squeezing my lungs. “Do you, Wednesday Arthurs, take Gavine Launcelot to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

My throat closes up. This is it. The moment everything changed.

Three days ago, I was just Wednesday Arthurs, quiet bookkeeper living peacefully in the house my parents left me and Jessica. Then his lawyers showed up at my door with papers and threats and explanations that made my head spin.

Jessica had signed some kind of matchmaking contract with Gavine. She’d taken a massive upfront payment. Money I never knew about. But if she defaulted, the penalty would be astronomical. And since our house was listed as collateral on the shared inheritance...

The lawyers made it crystal clear: marry Gavine Launcelot in Jessica’s place, or lose everything.

My childhood home. My parents’ memory. Everything I had left.

Some choice.

“Miss Arthurs?” The judge’s voice is gentle but impatient.

I force myself to look at Gavine. He’s staring past me, his expression cold enough to freeze blood. A muscle ticks in his jaw like he’s counting the seconds until this farce is over.

But when his gray eyes briefly meet mine, my breath catches. For just an instant, his gaze drops to my mouth, and I feel myself blushing from head to toe.

Then he looks away again, and I wonder if I imagined it.

My hands are shaking. “I...I do.”

The words come out as barely more than a whisper, but they’re loud enough. Loud enough to sign away my freedom. Loud enough to chain myself to a man who orchestrated this whole situation for reasons I can’t begin to fathom.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Wyoming, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The judge closes his book with a decisive snap. “You may kiss the bride.”

Gavine finally looks at me.

His eyes are the color of winter storms. Gray and utterly without warmth. For a heartbeat, something flickers across his face. Not quite regret, but close. Then his expression hardens again, and he steps toward me.

My heart hammers against my ribs as he cups my face in his large, warm hands. His touch is gentle but impersonal, like he’s handling something fragile that he doesn’t particularly want to break.

When his mouth touches mine, I forget how to breathe.

The kiss is supposed to be perfunctory. A brief press of lips to seal a business arrangement. But the moment his mouth moves against mine, every nerve in my body comes alive. I’ve never been kissed before, and the soft pressure of his lips makes me lean into him before I can stop myself.

His lips are firm and warm, and when I make a small, helpless sound against his mouth, I feel him tense. For just a second, his grip on my face tightens, his kiss deepening almost involuntarily before he jerks back like he’s been burned.

When he pulls away, I can barely breathe. My entire body is trembling, and from the dark look in his eyes, he definitely noticed.

“Congratulations,” the judge says, but his smile looks forced. Even he can tell this isn’t a celebration.

Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting in the back of Gavine’s sleek black limousine, still reeling from that kiss. The leather seats are butter-soft and probably cost more than most people’s cars, but I can barely focus on anything except the way my lips still tingle.

Gavine sits across from me, already on his phone, discussing some business deal in clipped, authoritative tones. He’s completely in his element. The powerful rancher and businessman who just acquired another asset.

That’s all I am to him. An asset.

But if that’s true, why did he kiss me like that? And why can’t I stop staring at his mouth?

The limo glides through the streets of Jackson Hole toward his ranch, and I try to focus on the sprawling Wyoming landscape outside. Mountains rise in the distance like ancient guardians, beautiful and untouchable. Kind of like my new husband.

When he finally ends his call, silence fills the space between us like a living thing.

I clear my throat. “It’s beautiful weather today, isn’t it? I mean, for November in Wyoming.”

He doesn’t respond.

“The mountains look so clear from here. I’ve always loved how they—”

“Stop.” His voice cuts through my nervous babbling like a blade.

I flinch and press my lips together. Even his sharp tone does something to me, makes my pulse skip in ways that should probably worry me.

Gavine leans back against the leather seat, studying me with those storm-gray eyes. When he speaks again, his tone is matter-of-fact, almost bored.

“Let’s be clear about what this is, Wednesday. This marriage is a business arrangement. Nothing more.” His gaze flicks over me dismissively, but I catch the way his eyes linger on my mouth for just a second too long. “Don’t mistake legal paperwork for anything resembling romance.”

The words sting, but the way he’s looking at me sends conflicting signals that make my pulse race.

“I expect you to stay out of my way. Don’t interfere with my business, don’t make demands, and don’t get any foolish ideas about what this arrangement entails.” His voice drops lower, rougher. “Do we understand each other?”

I nod mutely, not trusting my voice.

But as the limo carries us toward his ranch, I can’t shake the feeling that Gavine Launcelot is lying.

About this being just business.

About not wanting me.

And maybe even about the real reason he forced me to marry him.