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to pay for their overtime, as well, but he knew it wouldn’t matter. “Do you hear this, Nikki?” he asked into the phone.

      “Tell them to start without you.”

      “Very funny.”

      “You’re doing a great job of stalling,” she said. “We’re just a few blocks away.”

      “I’m hanging up the telephone now, Nikki. I’m turning off my pager. You’ve got ten minutes. No more.” He hung up the telephone.

      “Ten minutes?” He smiled at the minister and the wedding consultant, who both looked at their watches, then at each other. They were starting to get on his nerves. It was his wedding, too. What were they going to do, hold the ceremony without him?

      “I’ll inform the organist and Miss Karrenbrock.” Miss Hicks hurried into the bowels of the church.

      Carter turned off his pager. Instantly, it beeped.

      As he stared at it, Reverend Royer reached beneath his robe and smiled apologetically. “Mine this time, I’m afraid. As long as we’re waiting…?” He gestured toward the telephone and Carter stepped out of the way.

      Shoving his hands into the pockets of his gray morning suit, Carter strolled back to the groom’s anteroom.

      DeeAnn would be furious, though she’d never show it. A cool blond Texas belle, Dee Ann understood perfectly the relationship between men, business and the money to pay for designer clothes and personal trainers. It had been bred into her. The epitome of a corporate wife, she would never interfere in his business affairs.

      But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t expect compensation for her tolerance.

      Carter didn’t mind. It amused him to watch her try to manipulate him and to allow her small victories now and then.

      He could afford them.

      Marrying Dee Ann was the best idea he’d had in a long time. She would make a fabulous wife and that’s what he wanted: an old-fashioned arrangement where she managed home and hearth, and he concentrated on making the money to pay for it. Although he enthusiastically supported women’s rights, he also recognized that he couldn’t be the type of husband a career woman needed.

      He’d tried it once already with disastrous results. With both partners concentrating on their careers, nobody concentrated on the marriage.

      Carter wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

      It wasn’t fair to ask a woman to give up her career, but Dee Ann made no secret that she considered marriage and community service a career. Carter admired her for her honesty. He also knew that they wouldn’t need a second income like many families. Dee Ann would find fulfillment in her work on the boards of various charities, and he was willing to support her endeavors. It was the perfect blending of needs and wants.

      Yes, they’d have a good life together.

      That is, if Saunders and the others ever got here.

      Carter paced in front of the window of the small anteroom and forced himself not to look at his watch. He wanted to sit down, but that would wrinkle his suit. Instead, he checked his appearance in the wall mirror.

      His boutonniere was wilting. He had no idea how the rest of him appeared. Of course, if his best man were here, he could tell him how he looked, straighten his cravat, make certain his pants cuffs weren’t turned up, that sort of thing.

      The organist was playing something Carter had heard already. Thank heaven it wasn’t the processional.

      He patted his pocket, reassured by the lump Dee Ann’s wedding ring made. How fortunate he’d decided to hold on to it since clearly Saunders’s skills as a best man left much to be desired.

      “Carter? You in here?” Aflushed Saunders peered inside the room.

      “Glad you could make it,” Carter drawled, to hide his relief.

      “What is this place?” Saunders grimaced as he took in the room and its “furnishings.”

      “The groom’s dressing area,” Carter told him with a sweep of his hand.

      “They’ve stuck him back here in the storage room,” Saunders called over his shoulder. There were answering voices and then the door fully opened. Saunders entered, followed by Julian and Bob.

      And Nikki.

      Carter was unaccountably glad to see her. In spite of their turbulent history, they were friends and he valued that friendship—his only one with a woman.

      “You had me worried, there.” Carter clasped Saunders on the shoulder. Everything would be fine now.

      “We have to talk to you,” Nikki stated.

      Carter nodded. Anything. “Let’s get this ceremony over with and I’ll slip away during the reception.” He pushed Saunders toward the door.

      “Now,” Nikki ordered just as Saunders dug in his heels.

      In surprise, Carter turned and saw that the others all wore grim expressions.

      Clutching papers, Nikki walked toward him.

      “Use the podium,” Saunders suggested, dragging one away from the wall.

      “Julian—” Nikki nodded to him as she opened folders “—stand by the door.”

      “Gotcha.” Julian opened it, and checked both directions before closing the door and leaning against it.

      “What’s going on?” Carter demanded. They were starting to alarm him.

      “Stock transactions,” Nikki told him.

      “Not that again.” Carter felt his anger rise. All morning, they’d pestered him with their takeover theories.

      “Look.” Bob, his chief accountant, adjusted his glasses and pointed to several columns of figures. “This is Belden Industries’ stock activity over the past two months compared with this same period last year.”

      Carter glanced at the figures. “So? That doesn’t prove anything.” Carter looked at their unsmiling faces. Obviously, he’d have to study those figures at greater length. “Well, there’s certainly nothing there so startling that I’d have to postpone my wedding.”

      “These are the buyers and sellers,” Bob continued as if Carter had said nothing.

      “Your future father-in-law has bought a sizable chunk.” Nikki pointed to the entries under Karrenbrock Ventures.

      Carter looked hard at her. “Again, so? I consider that a vote of confidence.”

      Nikki exchanged a glance with Saunders.

      “According to the prenuptial agreement, you promise to transfer ten percent of your holdings in Belden Industries to Dee Ann on condition of your marriage,” Saunders said.

      He remembered that Saunders and Nikki had howled over that one. “You knew that long ago,” Carter said.

      Nikki pointed to Bob’s figures. “Added to the Karrenbrock holdings, that ten percent would entitle them to a seat on the board of directors.”

      Carter smiled. “I’m putting the stock in Dee Ann’s name. It’ll still be in the family.”

      Nikki’s eyes widened and Carter felt a pang of guilt. Stressing Dee Ann’s new status was too harsh, he supposed, but they were interrupting his wedding, damn it.

      Saunders cleared his throat. “It would be considered Dee Ann’s separate property—hers to do with as she pleases.”

      “And there’s nothing to stop her from selling her share to her father,” Julian said from his post at the door. “Should he choose to exercise his rights, Karrenbrock would be in a position to seriously weaken Belden Industries.”

      “That’s not going to

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