Married By Midnight. Mollie Molay

      Chapter Two

      Muttering to himself, Max made his way to the hotel’s executive offices on the first floor. How could he be a married man if he didn’t even remember applying for a wedding license?

      He shook his head. He wasn’t ready to believe he was a married man anyway. And as for Kelly, she didn’t seem all that jazzed up about the idea of being his wife, either.

      As for spending last night in bed together—he rechecked his wallet to reassure himself the condom was gone. Marriage to a stranger was bad enough, but a baby?

      With emotionally distant parents like his own, his childhood had been nothing to rave about. As a result, he wasn’t sold on fatherhood. He didn’t want to start a family until he was good and ready. He wasn’t ready yet.

      He skidded to a stop in the center of the ornate hotel lobby. The pale blue walls were covered with reproductions of well-known landscapes. Live trees and flowering shrubs grew in the center of a courtyard fronting the check-in desk. A waterfall fell gracefully into a small stream and disappeared beneath rocks. Sunlight streamed in from skylights. The effect was that of a pastoral spring scene. Soft, romantic music played in the background. The new hotel was unlike any Las Vegas hotel he’d ever been in. No wonder he’d been carried away by the romantic ambience last night.

      The scene looked vaguely familiar. Good, he thought, this might be an excellent place to fill in the gaps in his memory.

      “Must have been some party,” he remarked to a housekeeping-staff member tugging potted plants into place.

      “You ought to know.” The man chuckled. “You and your lady sure were star attractions last night.”

      Star attractions? Max’s heart sank as he gazed around the lobby. No new flashes of memory hit him, but if there was a reasonable explanation of what had gone on last night, he intended to find it. The obvious place to start was with his cousin Troy, whose wedding seemed to have changed Max’s life. He started toward a bank of public telephones, before he realized Troy and his new bride were off on an extended honeymoon, destination unknown.

      Damn! Who else could he question about what he’d gotten into last night without looking like a jerk? His Aunt Clara, Troy’s mother? Nah. His reputation in the Taylor family would be shot to hell. The door to that avenue closed abruptly.

      He was about to go back and grill the cleaning crew, when Reggie Bennett appeared at his side. “Can I be of help, Mr. Taylor?”

      “This is sure one hell of a mess, isn’t it?” Max muttered. Frustrated and unsure of what questions he could ask Bennett without sounding like a fool, he raked his fingers through his hair. In the background he heard renewed laughter.

      “No problem.” Bennett beamed. “We’ll have everything to rights in no time. I have to tell you, the additional publicity you and Mrs. Taylor generated for the hotel last night was worth a million.”

      Max couldn’t bring himself to tell the man he wasn’t referring to the condition of the hotel lobby. Nor to ask what publicity the man was talking about. His gut feeling was that somehow he and Kelly had been involved.

      He searched his memory. He could remember his initial fatal attraction to Kelly during the garter ceremony, all right. But after that his jet lag must have kicked in, because the rest of the night had passed in a haze.

      The one thing he couldn’t bring himself to ask Bennett about was what he and Kelly had actually done to make last night’s publicity so successful. Or what would have moved the hotel’s housekeeping staff to laughter. How could a man ask another man about what had happened on his own wedding night?

      Gritting his teeth, Max half-heartedly thanked Bennett and turned back to the bank of elevators. In his frustration, he repeatedly poked the up button. Kelly would be waiting for him to make an accounting of his disappearance. From the sound of her voice when he’d left, he wasn’t looking forward to their reunion.

      A DO-NOT-DISTURB SIGN hung on the door to the bridal suite, a sure indicator Kelly meant business. He took a deep breath and opened the door to find Kelly, barefoot and wrapped in a white chenille bathrobe, pacing the floor. She was still flushed from her bath, and an exotic scent of perfume clung to her. Her lustrous red hair hung in damp tendrils around her shoulders. From the glimpse he caught of one shapely leg, she was bare under the robe. His senses began to stir before he caught a glimpse of the expression in her eyes.

      “Where have you been?”

      The cold look Kelly gave him would have frozen a lesser man.

      “Downstairs.” He closed the door behind him. The last thing he needed was an argument; his head was pounding already. “Before you start on me, let me tell you I’m not too happy about all of this either. So take it easy.” He strode into the room and headed for the telephone. “The coffee’s cold by now. I’m sure we’ll both feel better after we have some breakfast.” He picked up the phone, dialed room service and ordered a fresh pot of coffee.

      “How can you think of food when we have something more important to resolve?”

      He didn’t know how to answer that question either, but at least having breakfast was something to do. “I think better on a full stomach. It’s been a long time since I had anything decent to eat. Hors d’oeuvres and champagne punch last night doesn’t cut it.”

      Kelly sniffed her disdain. “Go ahead and eat if you want to, but we have to talk. I intend to put this foolishness about our being married to rest right now. I’ll say this again. We are not married!”

      In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Max had to smile at Kelly. The angrier she got, the more attractive she became. He started to reply, when a tattoo of sharp knocks on the door interrupted him.

      “Not again,” Kelly said, marching to the door. “This had better be good!” she shouted as she flung it open. “Didn’t you see the sign on the door?”

      A teenage boy barreled into the room. “Kelly! Quick, hide! Dad and Damon are on their way up! They’re on the warpath!”

      “Sean? What are you doing here?” Kelly’s face was a study in surprise as she craned her neck to look over the boy’s shoulder.

      “I…came…to warn you!” he gasped as soon as he could catch his breath. “I overheard Dad say he saw you on TV last night. He said you got married.” A grin broke over his face. “I think it’s cool, but Dad’s sure mad. Did you really get hitched?”

      “No,” Kelly answered. She glared at Max.

      “Yes,” Max answered. “That is, I think so. We were just—”

      “I’ll tell you later,” Kelly interrupted with another urgent look over Sean’s shoulder. “Come on in before Dad sees you.”

      Sean almost fell into the room. “Boy, is he going to be fried if he finds me here. Maybe I’d better go back home before he gets here.”

      Max stared at the boy who, in spite of his darker complexion, resembled Kelly. Her brother?

      “No, you don’t,” a stern voice broke in. A uniformed officer of the Las Vegas Police Department filled the doorway.

      Max thought rapidly. Had he broken some local law last night? If the law was after him this afternoon, things must be worse than he thought.

      “Patrick? Not you, too,” Kelly squeaked.

      Max took a closer look at the officer as the man grabbed Sean by a shoulder and hauled him into the room. He was a sturdy version of Kelly with the same hair color. Somehow, Max didn’t care for the piercing look in his hazel eyes.

      “Yeah, Patrick,” the man agreed. “Your