Chapter 2

Hand tingling, Riley disengaged their palms and got up to answer it.

Maya stood on the other side of the portal. "There you are!" the petite blonde stormed. She rushed in, "I've been looking for you all morning!"

"What time is it?" Riley asked.

"Ten o'clock!"

So they'd been in the hotel room for, what…six hours, maybe, at most? Six hours spent sleeping next to Lucas…

Oblivious to the wistful nature of Riley's thoughts, Maya stormed closer. "I can't believe you actually did it! I know I've been bugging you to let loose but not like this!" Maya continued her tirade. "I'm getting married in two weeks! This is my week! Not yours! Matthews is going to kill us!"

Lucas stepped in, wrapped his arm around Riley and drew her back into his protective embrace. "Trust me," Lucas told Maya, "we weren't thinking of you and Zay at all last night."

Maya looked at both of them, shocked and dismayed. "You can't tell me you're going to continue on with this joke!"

For once, Riley allowed herself to react just as emotionally as Maya.

"Yes," Riley retorted, "I am."

…

"Are you okay?" Lucas asked Riley, after Maya had left.

Riley nodded.

"You don't look okay." Lucas took her in his arms once again. "You're shaking."

His arms were so warm and strong! Too warm. Wary where this might be leading, Riley tilted her head back. "Lucas, I—"

His head lowered, their lips met and the kiss was everything their first hadn't been. Passionate, hot and demanding. Soulful and yearning. Sweet and tender. Without volition, she found her lips parting. Their tongues tangled and Riley drank in the masculine taste of him. He was all she had ever dreamed a man could be. He challenged her, even as he protected, making her feel so very alive. Which was why, she figured, as his body hardened next to hers, that he had the good sense to end the spontaneous embrace.

…

Lucas knew he shouldn't have kissed Riley again. It would have been better to leave them both with the fuzzy memory of that brief, unsatisfying post–nuptial embrace. Now he knew what it could be between the two of them. Now he had proof that his gut feeling, that the two of them would be hot as a firecracker together, was proven, without a shadow of a doubt. And with the wedding rings on their fingers…

He dropped his hands, stepped back. "We have to keep this marriage in name only," he ordered gruffly.

"Absolutely," Riley agreed.

"Otherwise it's going to get way too complicated."

Riley's face flushed a becoming pink. She stepped back, too. Held up a hand. "I agree. No more kissing, Lucas. No touching, either."

He nodded. "Except for what we absolutely have to do to make this look like the real thing."

Riley swore. Probably, Lucas thought, imagining how difficult the next few days and weeks, maybe even months, were going to be. "How long do you think we have to—" she swallowed, looking abruptly agitated "—um, pretend?"

Lucas shrugged. "A year ought to do it," he said.

…

A year, Riley thought to herself, as she went back to her own hotel room, and showered and changed. A year of being married to Lucas, and yet never having been engaged. A year of having him take her hand or put his arm around her at appropriate times. A year of putting a smile on her face and sharing space… How in the world were they going to manage that? Riley wondered.

Lucas had changed their seat assignments on the flight back to New York so they would be sitting together, away from the rest of the wedding party. Consequently, they were tucked into a cramped two–person row in the very back of the jumbo jet. The seats were so small there was no way they could not be touching. But at least, Riley thought, trying desperately to ignore the warmth and strength of Lucas' tall body, at least they were away from the prying eyes, and the attentions the pro–baseball–player groomsmen, were getting.

"I can't believe I'm entering Maya's world," Riley murmured to herself. Especially when she had fought so hard to keep it real.

"What are you talking about?" Lucas asked, shifting yet again, his leg brushing against hers.

In deference to the sizzling summer heat, Riley was dressed in a cotton sheath–dress. Lucas had worn shorts and a v-neck shirt for the flight back to New York. Their calves were bare. And kept rubbing up against each other. Another disconcerting sensation she was going to have to become immune to, if she were to survive the "mistake" they'd made.

"Whenever Maya is around Zay, she acts so fake." So unlike the person Riley knew Maya to be, deep down, when no one else was around.

"You're saying you're going to be disingenuous, too?"

Riley sighed, feeling even more upset. "We both are. Always pretending to be something we're not. Which is happily married!"

"Not necessarily," Lucas corrected.

Riley turned to look at him.

He gazed deep into her eyes. "I know this wasn't what we planned. Or would have ever wanted. But as long as we're stuck together, can't we at least be friends?"

…

Good question, Riley thought, as the jet took off, and she and Lucas both closed their eyes. She sensed he wasn't any more asleep than she was. But they both needed a break.

Marriage was stressful.

And what looked to be even more painful was telling her parents what she had done.

As it turned out, Riley did not have to do that. Maya had done it for her, and their parents were waiting at the airport baggage claim.

When Riley saw them, she slowed her steps.

Riley turned to Lucas. "Let's get out of here while this blows over." They could claim their bags later.

Maya rushed forward and burst into public, noisy tears, while her pro–baseball–player fiancé stood uncomfortably at her side. The scene caused more than one person awaiting their luggage to turn and gawk. As the celebrities were noticed, cell phone cameras began to go off.

Riley grimaced again. She appreciate Maya trying to soften the blow of her wild night in Vegas to her parents but she doesn't need Maya to amp up the drama even more, in order to keep all the attention solely focused on her and Zay.

To her frustration, Lucas remained planted firmly where he was. Which gave Maya enough time to lead her parents over to Riley.

"Tell me it's not true," Riley's mom murmured.

Lucas wrapped his arm around Riley's shoulders, as more cameras went off, and Maya cried crocodile tears. Rather than apologize, he looked proud to be standing firmly behind what they had done. "Riley and I got married in Vegas," Lucas told her folks.

And that was that.

…

Lucas had been right. Within hours of the marriage, photos were everywhere, on and off the Internet. In the newspapers and the tabloids. The story of Riley and Lucas upstaging Maya and Zay had even made a magazine Web site. And it was no surprise that John Wilson summoned Lucas along with Riley to his office for a meeting, early Monday morning.

"Welcome back. Please accept my personal congratulations." Wilson looked them both squarely in the eye.

Unable to help herself, Riley flushed. Lucas, on the other hand, looked cool as a cucumber, which was what she got, she told herself grimly, for marrying someone who's a public figure.

"My voice mail is clogged with requests for interviews," Wilson continued grimly.

Wilson's personal secretary appeared in the doorway. "Sorry to interrupt. Jennifer Graham from Sport's Illustration is at the reception desk, asking to see Lucas."

Lucas squeezed Riley's hand.

Wilson's brow lifted in silent inquiry.

Riley gestured inanely, feeling even more embarrassed. "Go ahead…I'll wait for you here…"

"I think it's a good idea to do this interview with both of you present." Wilson suggested.

"Heavens, no!" Riley replied, before she could stop herself.

"Riles, it's fine. We don't need to do any interviews yet," Lucas declared.

Riley pivoted toward her "husband." "But they won't stop asking unless you do. I don't mind you doing it, I'm just not comfortable being there with you."

Wilson paused. "It will be a short interview. Give them an idea how you two ended up getting married last weekend," he mused out loud.

"That's something Riley and I would like to keep personal. In any case, we are married," Lucas explained.

Wilson's preoccupied look faded. "So this is serious, then?"

His boss's expression gave no clue as to what he was thinking, but his past behavior indicated it had better be. Wilson had been married to the love of his life for over thirty years. That's a lifetime especially for professional athletes. Wilson is as serious and strict when it comes to family as he is about managing the Yankees.

"Serious as a heartbeat," Lucas said, still holding Riley's hand.

"I wasn't aware you were even seeing someone," Wilson continued.

"Every day," Riley replied. Unfortunately, since Maya and Zay got engaged three months ago. Try as she might, she had not been able to avoid Lucas, and since they are both so close to the bride and groom, they often saw each other on weekends, too.

She and Lucas just hadn't dated.

Wilson nodded, taking that in. He circled around his desk. "Where are the two of you going to be living?"

Riley jumped in once again. "That's still up for discussion."

"For now," Lucas added, giving her hand another stay–with–me squeeze, "we're going to be using both apartments."

"We'll shuttle back and forth as needed," Riley said honestly. And only as needed. If she could get away with continuing to live alone, as she more or less had last night, she would do so.

…

"Do you think Wilson bought it?" Lucas asked Riley, as they took the elevator down to the reception desk.

Riley swallowed. "Not sure."

"Me, neither." Lucas fell silent. "If Wilson thinks I'm putting one over on him—"

"That this is some con—"

"We're both in the ditch here. As far as our careers go."

"I know."

"Like it or not, we're going to have to start living together," Lucas said.

Riley made a face. She did not need more intimacy with Lucas when the little they'd experienced so far had thrown her emotions into turmoil.

The elevator doors opened and Riley stepped out first.

Lucas stared at his wife. She has long, thick wavy brown hair that he wanted to touch. Her clothes, her cleavage (none shown!) were all in style and up-to-date. And she gives him conservative smiles, the kind that said she'd never lied, cheated, or double-dealed to get anyone out of jail. Ever.

"You coming?' The conservative smile vanished. In its place was a look he'd seen too often on rookies lining up to bat against a veteran pitcher, trying too hard to look confident.

He was in trouble! Big trouble.

…

Lucas drove Riley to work after their meeting with John Wilson.

She was just opening her office door when her phone rang.

"Tell me that the media got the names mixed up and it was Maya that got married last Saturday and not you," said the very familiar voice of her friend Farkle over the phone.

"I can't." Riley replied.

"Are you okay?" Farkle asked softly.

Without warning, tears blurred Riley's eyes. She fumbled through the stack of messages on her desk, wishing people would stop asking her that.

"I know how much you had your heart set on finding your own Mr. Right," Farkle continued kindly. "And I can't help but think…"

"I rushed into this marriage with Lucas?"

Farkle released a frustrated breath. "Doesn't matter what I think. I should have cancelled my meeting and went with you guys. I shouldn't have left you alone with Maya."

"Believe it or not, this is entirely my fault," Riley muttered under her breath, still hardly able to believe she had done such a thing as elope with Lucas Friar!

"It's not too late to undo it, if it isn't right." Farkle stated.

As an attorney, Riley knew that. As a woman caught between her disgruntled family and her need to keep climbing the ladder of success at work…she still agreed with Lucas…and felt she had only one option. "I'm determined to make this marriage work," Riley said. For better or worse.

Farkle paused thoughtfully. "Even if you don't love him?"

Farkle's comment stayed with Riley the rest of the day. She was still thinking about it at 5:00 p.m. when one of her coworkers stuck her head in her office. "You're needed in the meeting room, pronto."

"For what?" Riley asked with a frown, aware she hadn't gotten anywhere near the work completed that she should have that day.

Too late, her colleague was gone. With a sigh, Riley got up and walked down the hall. The offices were oddly silent. Riley turned the corner.

"Surprise!" everyone yelled.

Lucas stepped forward, a welcoming smile on his face. "Isn't it great?" He enfolded Riley in his arms and kissed her cheek. "They got us a cake and everything!"

Two glasses and many toasts of champagne later, the impromptu party came to an end. Lucas and Riley stood at the door like the real couple they weren't, and thanked everyone for organizing and coming to the congratulatory party. Finally, the two of them were alone with what remained of the wedding cake.

Riley looked at Lucas. Lucas looked at Riley. "I feel like a fraud," she whispered.

"Why?" he teased. "Because you don't really like butter cream frosting?"

"Because…we're not…"

He lowered his lips to hers. "We are."

Lucas hadn't meant to kiss Riley again. And certainly not in her office. The wistful look in her eyes prompted him to do otherwise. He knew Riley. Always thinking what lay on the other side of tomorrow was going to be so much better. Never really appreciating today…

Her hands splayed across his chest.

"Lucas," she whispered, still kissing him back.

He threaded both hands through her hair. "For once," he murmured, surprised by how much he needed her, needed this, "let's live in the moment. And take this for what it is." He tilted her face up to his.

"And that is…?" Riley searched his eyes.

His hand on her spine, Lucas guided her closer yet. "A chance to find out what kind of chemistry the two of us really have."

That, Riley thought, was easy. Together, like this, the two of them were completely compatible. In fact, if she kissed him much longer, she knew she really would burst into flames.

Which was why she shoved at his chest again, forced them apart, then stood there, looking up at him, breathing hard. She wanted him. So much.

But she knew the worst thing she could do, for either of them, was to make love to him without being in love with him. "I'm not going to settle for anything less than what I deserve," she told him, smarting at the realization of how easily she could have let herself be completely utterly vulnerable to him. "And if you're smart, you won't, either."