Married By Midnight - Mollie Molay Mills & Boon American Romance

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expect both of you tonight!”

      Max put his arm around a protesting Kelly and, under the pretext of kissing her ear, whispered, “Agree with him. We’ll think of something later on.”

      “You have no idea what you’re letting yourself in for,” Kelly whispered, matching her father’s glare over Max’s shoulder.

      “I’m sure everything is going to be okay,” Max answered. What he didn’t tell Kelly was he was aware that in an obviously traditional family setting such as the O’Rourkes’ appeared to be, and his own, for that matter, a free-spirited woman like Kelly, and her name, needed all the protection she could get.

      He turned back to the man who had just become his father-in-law. “We’ll be along directly, Mr. O’Rourke.”

      “Don’t be long,” the senior O’Rourke warned. “We’ll expect you before sundown. Come on, boys.”

      As soon as the door closed behind her family, a distraught Kelly turned on Max. “You don’t really expect us to spend the night at my house, do you?”

      “I’m afraid we have to.”

      “Instead of giving in to my father’s wishes, why aren’t you out trying to find a wedding license or a marriage certificate?”

      “I’ve been trying to ever since I woke up. It’s been one damn thing after another. And now your family shows up. I haven’t had a moment’s peace today, so don’t you start.” Max headed for the room-service cart. “Coffee?”

      “No, thanks.” Kelly paced to the window and stared out at the busy Las Vegas thoroughfare. “There ought to be something we can do.”

      “I’ll go to the marriage-license bureau first thing tomorrow morning and check the records.” Max reached for a blueberry muffin. “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat?”

      “The way I feel, I don’t think I could handle anything. You go ahead and eat if you want to,” Kelly answered without looking back.

      “Suit yourself,” Max said. “I’m going to get cleaned up before we head out to your place. In the meantime, you might practice being a wife.”

      “Practice being a wife?” Obviously affronted, Kelly swung around. “I don’t intend to be a wife at all.” With her squared jaw and set lips, Max was inclined to believe she meant what she said. Not that it mattered. As his mother often said, they’d made their bed and they had to lie in it. This time—worse luck—platonically.

      Chapter Three

      No one was home to welcome Max and Kelly when they reported to the O’Rourke residence on Nellis Air Force Base. Max was relieved. Maybe he and Kelly would finally find time to plan their next move. Then, tomorrow, he intended to head over to the marriage-license bureau and do some checking.

      Things might have been different, even desirable, if he and Kelly cared for each other. Instead, circumstances forced them to pretend they were madly in love. Sure, they were attracted to each other, but so far they couldn’t seem to carry on a sensible conversation without winding up in an argument.

      As he followed Kelly into the bedroom, he took heart in knowing they would soon go their separate ways. All he needed to do was persuade Kelly’s father he intended to take her on a honeymoon. With a little luck, he’d be a free man by tomorrow night.

      Her bedroom reminded him of his dorm room back at college. The bed, covered by a patchwork quilt, was pushed against one wall. A small maple desk and chair, an ancient leather lounge chair and a reading lamp were positioned under a window. A matching maple chest of drawers crowded a corner. There were plenty of homey touches—family photographs on the walls, two heart-shaped pillows, a hand-hooked rug.

      Max wasn’t surprised. In his experience, a woman’s bedroom reflected her personality. Under that sexy exterior he’d encountered last night, he had an uneasy feeling Kelly was a hometown, traditional woman. The kind that wanted to nest. Thank goodness she apparently didn’t want to nest with him.

      He gazed doubtfully at Kelly’s single bed. The bed might do for a woman her size, but it didn’t look big enough to accommodate the addition of a six-foot-two-inch, one-hundred-and-eighty-five-pound man. Sharing the narrow bed wasn’t going to be easy. The worn beige and brown leather chair didn’t look very inviting as an alternative, either. He was beginning to understand what Kelly meant when she’d told him he didn’t know what he was letting himself in for.

      “Not exactly a palace, is it?” he asked.

      “No, it’s not,” Kelly agreed. She glanced around the room and shrugged. “You can’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”

      “I thought you were talking about your father,” Max protested. “I figured I could handle him later. Sleeping in a bed that size with you wasn’t exactly what I was expecting.” He gazed at the bed with a jaundiced air. “Maybe I can change your father’s mind when he comes home.”

      “Fat chance,” Kelly answered wearily. “I’ve never been able to change it once he’s made up his mind.”

      “Come on, Kelly. Don’t blame it all on your father. You’re the one who insisted we were married.”

      “Maybe so,” she agreed, “but since it was pretty obvious we’d slept together, I said we were married to keep him from taking a shotgun to you. Besides, from the way Patrick was eyeing you, I was afraid he’d haul you off to jail if I hadn’t jumped in to stop him.”

      “Jail? Be serious. For sleeping with you?” Max swallowed a grin when Kelly blushed. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so blunt, but it seemed to him, if ever there was a time to call a spade a spade, this was it. Married or not, they had slept together. As far as he knew, it wasn’t a local offense.

      “No, for vagrancy, or some other charge.” Kelly bit back a rueful smile. “My brother Patrick thinks like a policeman. After he took a good look at you, I could tell he was looking for a chance to run you in.”

      Max looked down at his navy-blue tailored pants and blazer, shirt and tie. “What’s wrong with the way I look?”

      “That’s easy.” Kelly held up her left hand and counted off on her fingers. “You’re obviously not Irish, in the military or on the police force. I’m sure Patrick will come up with a few more reasons as soon as he’s had a chance to check you out.”

      Max began to believe he’d somehow wandered into a special place peopled by a tribe of weird O’Rourkes. “Who in heaven’s name made up rules like that?”

      “Dad,” she answered succinctly. She tossed the bouquet and bridal veil on the desk. “He’s been preaching those rules to me ever since I had my first date. And that was with either Damon or Patrick and their dates in tow. I was lucky Dad didn’t insist on coming along, too.”

      Max bridled. “What’s the matter with someone like me for a husband? I’m not exactly a bum.” He pumped up his chest. “I’ll have you know I own Taylor Fitness Centers.”

      “The gyms?” As Kelly asked, she recalled DeeDee telling her when she’d regaled Kelly with Max’s attributes. “We’re a great match, then. I teach aerobics on the base.” She shrugged. “But as long as you aren’t Irish, I’m afraid you’re not on Dad’s list of eligible males.”

      The thought that he could end up in jail, even for twenty-four hours while Patrick checked him out, struck Max as ridiculous.

      About as ridiculous as the entire situation. The more he thought about it, the more he didn’t know what to believe.

      He raked his fingers through his hair and stared at Kelly.

      What he was beginning to believe was that Kelly represented everything he was beginning to feel was missing in his life; spontaneity, independence, dynamism, fun. And that he was more attracted to her

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