The Ashtons - Cole, Abigail & Megan

said, repeating the ancient words as the reverend led her carefully through her vows.
    Beside her, Simon stiffened. Ashton? As in Ashton Estates? Ashton Winery? Ashton, dozens of other enterprises?
    He wondered why she hadn’t told him. Then reminded himself that he’d been working with the woman for the last month or more and had never inquired of her last name. Hadn’t seemed important. She’d simply been Megan, the event planner.
    He stared down at the woman swearing to be faithful to him and only to him and he at least understood why he hadn’t been able to coax her into this wedding with the promise of money.
    And while his thoughts raced, he realized that this emergency marriage was going to be complicated. He’d long been a favorite of the paparazzi that made their living stalking celebrities. But Simon Pearce marrying one of the Ashton heirs would have those notorious photographers—not to mention reporters—slavering like wild dogs. The Ashton family was as well-known as his own and the media would have a field day if they got wind that this marriage was anything but the real deal.
    “You may kiss the bride.”
    Simon’s thoughts dissolved at the words and he turned to face Megan. All around them, people watched but all he could see were her eyes. Brilliant,grass-green eyes. Sparkling with humor, wariness and just a touch of regret.
    “Second thoughts?” he whispered, lifting one hand to smooth another stray lock of hair behind her ear.
    One corner of her mouth quirked. When she spoke, her voice was as hushed as his. “Oh, yeah. Second thoughts and thirds and fourths and—”
    He silenced her the best way he knew how. Bending his head, he covered her mouth with his, cutting her off mid-sentence. A flash of something unexpected leaped through him and caught Simon completely off guard.
    Lifting his head again, he stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. She looked as surprised as he felt. There was heat here. Something he hadn’t felt in—well, ever. And he wasn’t entirely sure that was a good thing.
    This was a marriage of convenience—in the most literal terms. Thinking it was anything else would only cause more problems.
    And yet…
    Unable to deny himself, Simon bent to kiss her again and instantly felt that jolt of lightning-like sensation shoot through him. Her mouth surrendered to his.
    She leaned into him, tipping her head back farther as she lifted onto her toes to meet his kiss.
    Desire pulsed through him with the rattle and roar of thunder. Reaction shuddered through Megan, too, and her response fed his own.
    He forgot where they were.
    Forgot they were strangers.
    And lost himself in the taste of her.
    Pressing her close to his body, he held her tightly, firmly, until he could feel her every curve. The delicate lace of her gown scraped against his fingertips. Her scent, a faint floral blend, filled his head. His tongue swept into her mouth as he fed the urge within him clamoring for more. She was warm and sweet and open and he dived into her, groaning, giving himself up to the sensations coursing through him.
    She clung to him, giving as much as she took. Her breath brushed his cheek, her hands slid up his back and when she sighed into his mouth, Simon felt the slam of it as he would have a punch to the middle.
    Applause.
    Laughter.
    These sounds and more finally worked their way past the fog of passion clouding Simon’s mind. Slowly, reluctantly, he ended the kiss and looked down at her. Her pale skin was suffused with color, her mouth looked full and puffy, her eyes dazzling in the sunlight. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.
    And because the urge to take her had him by the throat, Simon gritted his teeth and took a deliberate step back from her—distancing himself not only from his new bride, but from the very real threat of losing his self-control. Something he’d never done before.
    Something he never allowed to happen.
    Forcing a smile, he took her hand and turned to face the guests already crowding up the aisle to congratulate them.
    “Everything’s running smoothly, so stop worrying—at least about the reception,” Paige said.
    “It just feels strange to not be running around checking on everyone,” Megan told her and smoothed one hand down the front of her secondhand wedding gown.
    “Uh-huh.” Paige looked at her with wide eyes and shook her head. “It’s strange to you to not be running the show, but not strange to be