Holy fucking shit!
They’d gone through with it. She still couldn’t remember the conversation that led to them flying to Vegas to get hitched but she sure as hell remembered signing her name on their marriage license.
Tossing back the covers, she flung her legs over the side of the bed and lurched to her feet, glancing down. Whoever put her to bed at least left her underwear on. Then again, Jack had seen everything before so if he was the one to tuck her in it wouldn’t really matter.
Plus, he was her husband.
Jesus fucking Christ, she had a husband!
A husband who was nowhere in sight.
Looking around the huge bedroom she spotted a bag on the decadent burgundy chaise on the other side of the room. She could only assume the bag was hers. She didn’t recall coming up to the suite or even making it to the hotel so had to conclude last night’s alcohol consumption—and this morning’s adventure—had taken their toll and knocked her out on the drive from her unscripted nuptials.
Fucking hell. They’d gotten hitched in the tunnel of love in the back of a cherry-red convertible while Elvis serenaded them.
Who the hell did that?
Apparently, she did.
God. She’d married Jack.
A floor lamp beside the chaise bathed the room in a warm glow. The shimmery gold curtains were closed, and her phone wasn’t in sight so she had no way of telling what time it was. Although right now she had a more pressing problem. Her bladder was about to burst. She’d worry about what time it was and her missing husband after she used the bathroom. And brushed her teeth. And took a shower.
She could really do with a shower. Lifting her arm, she sniffed. Oh, yeah, a shower would be good. The scent of booze and sweat was not a pleasant aroma.
Alyssa glanced at the bed. Why had Jack put her in that clean bed without making her shower? Frowning, she shook her head. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like either of them would be washing the linens and there were other, less trivial, things to be concerned with.
Heading for the bag she reached out only to stop dead in her tracks when light flashed on her hand. Eyes wide, she stared at her left hand. A plain gold band encircled her ring finger. Smooth yellow gold curled around the previously empty digit but there was nothing flashy about it. It was the thicker band with the large diamond next to it that had caught the light.
Holy fucking shit!
It couldn’t be real.