The Ashtons - Cole, Abigail & Megan

anticipation. But Megan was not most women.
    “Fiji?” She shook her head. “Sorry, I can’t.”
    “What do you mean, you can’t?” he snapped and turned to face her. “You agreed to play this part, Megan.”
    “The part of a marriage, yes. The honeymoon thing? No thanks. I have a job.”
    He laughed shortly. “A job? You work for your family.”
    Megan stiffened. Happened every time someone assumed that she was a spoiled little rich girl just amusing herself by throwing parties.
    “My job’s important to me. And I’m good at it,” she said tightly. “And in the next two weeks, I have two weddings and a sixteenth-birthday party here on the estate. I can’t leave. And I wouldn’t even if I could.”
    “Really?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “And why’s that?”
    “Because, Simon,” she said, walking toward him and not stopping until she was close enough to jab him in the chest with her index finger, “I may be the surprise exchange bride, and I may get married wearing someone else’s idea of a gown and I even may be forced to wear a ring—” she waved her hand in his face for emphasis “—chosen for someone else, but I’ll be damned if I’m going on another woman’s honeymoon.”
    Simon frowned at her. “What’s wrong with the ring?”
    He’d missed the whole point. Not surprising though, Megan thought as she drew her head back and looked at him in stunned stupefaction. “It’s not mine,” she said flatly and looked down at the gaudy, wide gold band, boasting a too-big diamond surrounded by emeralds.
    She’d never have chosen anything like it and the fact that she was stuck with it was only going to be a constant reminder that her marriage wasn’t real. That she’d married a stranger. That she’d picked up another woman’s castoff and had made it hers.
    “You don’t like diamonds?”
    He sounded so surprised, she almost laughed. “Every woman likes diamonds,” she replied. “But I don’t like yellow gold and I don’t like gigantic rings that will get caught on everything and I don’t like emeralds.”
    He frowned thoughtfully. “I could—”
    “Never mind,” she said and felt good interrupting him for a change. “It doesn’t matter. I said I’d do thisand I will. But I’m not going to pretend to go on a honeymoon to Fiji, of all places, with a man I don’t know.”
    Silence thundered around them for a long minute when she stopped speaking, until finally Simon said, “It’s been a long time since anyone’s had the nerve to argue with me like that.”
    Megan laughed shortly and headed for the door. “Welcome to your new world.”
    “Where are you going?” he demanded.
    “Back to work,” she said tightly. “I’ve got preparations to finalize for next week’s wedding.”
    When she walked out, Simon was left alone, the only sound to be heard, the steady click of her heels as she left him.

Chapter Four
----
    “Y ou’re really certifiable, aren’t you?” Paige leaned against the wall in Megan’s office, feet crossed at the ankles, arms folded over her chest. “Not only do you marry strangers, but now, you’re refusing a honeymoon in Fiji?”
    Megan spared her sister a quick glance, then looked back at her computer screen. Two hours since the wedding and none of it felt real. She still couldn’t believe she’d actually done it. But the gaudy ring on her left hand was proof enough to remind her.
    She’d tried not to think about what she’d signed up for. Maybe Simon had caught her in a weak moment. Maybe if she’d taken her time and thoughtabout it, she wouldn’t have agreed. But, if she hadn’t, then she’d still be dealing with the problem of her father and Willie-the-would-be-groom.
    Which was enough to make her shudder.
    “I’ve got work here, Paige. I can’t just take off for two weeks.”
    “Right. Because no one else but you is qualified to make some phone calls and keep caterers in line.”
    Megan sighed and leaned back in her chair. Her office was just behind the main reception hall on the first floor of the estate. Here in this room, she’d created her own little world. The walls were a soft rose, complementing the rough brick of the fireplace on one wall. Muted impressionist paintings lined the other walls and the furniture was feminine without being overdone. The room was warm, welcoming, and as unlike the rest of the Ashton family showplace as she could make it.
    Through a connecting door that led into the catering