Married By Mistake

his lips were an inch from hers. “It won’t hurt a bit,” he promised.
    This kiss was more tender than the others. He started at one corner of her mouth, worked his way to the center, then his tongue teased her lips until she parted them. At his slow, stroking entry she found her whole body clenching, and it didn’t relax until he hauled her against him and deepened the kiss.
    By the time he released her, Casey was shaking. He didn’t look a hundred percent steady himself. He raked a hand through his hair, gave her a smile that was part triumphant, part perplexed.
    But his voice was calm when he said, “There’s one other great thing about dating me.”
    She raised an eyebrow and, despite the roiling of her insides, said equally calmly, “Only one?”
    “If we’re trying to convince people we’re happily married, this might just do it.”
    Casey stared straight ahead. As she watched, the sun slipped below the horizon, leaving a glowing pink swath across the sky.
    “So, are we dating?” he asked impatiently. “I like you, you like me. And I don’t believe you would have kissed just anyone like that.”
    “Well, maybe not a guy with bad breath and warts on his nose.”
    “I’m flattered,” Adam said dryly. “I had no idea you were so picky.”
    “I guess,” she said, striving for a casual tone though her stomach tied in knots, “we’re dating.”

CHAPTER NINE
    A DAM LOOKED ACROSS his desk at the cluster of people filling his office at ten o’clock on a Wednesday morning. They’d arranged themselves in battle lines—Anna May and Henry to his right, Sam and Eloise to the left.
    A faint curl of steam rose from a dish on Adam’s desk. Eloise had brought him some of what she called her famous, fresh-baked cornbread. Famous for its ability to drown any man stupid enough to swim after eating it. The stuff weighed a ton. But it was Eloise’s mama’s secret recipe, and although she had a cook to prepare her meals, Eloise insisted cornbread was her domain. Years ago, Adam had set himself a personal challenge of never eating a bite of the stuff.
    He didn’t plan to deviate from that this morning, despite being warmly disposed to the world in general, thanks to his newly elevated status as Casey’s date.
    Anna May glared at Sam as they waited for Adam to speak. She’d said no lawyers for the meeting, a stipulation that suited Adam. But as always, the minute his stepmother entered the building, Sam found a reason to visit Adam’s office.
    “Well?” Anna May snapped, losing patience.
    “Let me get this straight,” Adam said. “You’re saying that if I promote Henry to joint CEO, give him a bonus equivalent to his first year’s salary and agree to pay out a regular dividend to stockholders, backdated for the past three years, you’ll drop your legal action to prove Dad was mentally incompetent when he made that will.”
    From the encouraging nods Sam was sending his way, Adam gathered he was supposed to see Anna May’s offer as a good sign. An indication that she feared she might lose and was therefore willing to negotiate. But how good could it be, when his aunt’s demands would undermine the financial stability of the business?
    Anna May made a dipping, birdlike movement of her head. Vulture-like, Adam thought. He quashed the uncharitable impulse. Somewhere in his aunt’s psyche lay the key to her attitude, but he was damned if he knew what it was. It was the sort of thing Casey liked to ponder. The sort of thing Adam didn’t have time for.
    Maybe he should try doing it Casey’s way.
    “What made you decide on those particular terms?” he asked Henry.
    “We don’t want to be unreasonable, Adam,” his cousin said apologetically, “but Mom feels— we feel—”
    “It’s the least Henry’s entitled to, according to your father’s original will,” Anna May interrupted.
    Adam and Sam hadn’t known about the earlier will before this morning—Adam’s father hadn’t used Sam for his personal legal work. Anna May had made the most of that, flourishing a copy of the document under their noses. But there was no denying its contents: it divided James Carmichael’s stock holdings in Carmichael Broadcasting equally between Adam and Henry.
    “But is it what you want?” Adam asked Henry. He’d never seen any sign that his cousin had the same kind of passion for the business that he did. He rephrased the question in Casey-speak. “What are your dreams?”
    Henry swallowed