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the marriage at that point?"
    Kelly found she had to look away from his
questioning gaze. "This isn't the same thing at all."
    "Why not?"
    Kelly felt her heart pick up speed even
though she knew there was a difference. "You. Were.
Hypnotized. You don't even remember me. It's like    an
accident. You said so yourself!"
    He paused, then spoke with careful
enunciation. "I don't walk away from accidents."
    Kelly's heart beat faster. This was a crazy
argument. Of course they weren't married, except in the most
technical sense. And yet he sounded grimly earnest. "Divorce
wouldn't be walking away. It would be...taking care of the
accident."
    He gave a sharp shake of the head. "Divorce
is a coward's way out. I've always thought so. Once a vow is made,
it should be kept."
    Kelly's heart beat now at the rhythm of
panic. These were words she might have spoken herself, a bare week
ago. "This is different," she insisted, her voice hoarse.
    "A promise is a promise," he stated
calmly.
    "You weren't yourself." To put it mildly.
    His lips thinned. "I wish I had the luxury of
discussing this further but other matters press. I need to resolve
this tonight."
    "Tonight!"
    He uncrossed his arms. "My flight home is at
eight. You can be on it. My wife, with all the rights and
privileges thereto."
    Kelly's mouth opened and closed. She started
to laugh. "Tonight."
    "Don't worry about the time crunch." He
shifted his attention to his briefcase, closing the lid. "You'll
only need to pack for your immediate needs. With the exception of
giving notice to your employer, my people can handle all the
details at this end; closing your apartment, storing your things,
et cetera, et cetera."
    She laughed harder. "You've got to be
kidding."
    His gaze centered back on her. "Marriage.
Fulfilling promises. That's my offer, Miss Williams. Take it or
leave it."
    Her laughter died as she met his unwavering
gaze. He was absolutely serious. He actually meant to fly her home
with him. He didn't know her, he couldn't possibly like her, yet he
was that committed to keeping his word.
    Kelly swallowed. She'd only met one man in
her life as committed. Her father, the minister, who'd taught her
from the cradle the importance of integrity.
    Dean snicked closed the latches of his
briefcase. "A call to me here at the hotel by seven will get you a
ride to the airport in time."
    Kelly licked her lips. She wouldn't do it.
She wasn't married, not really.
    "Think it over, Miss Williams. I'll be in
room 814."
    "No," she said, but her voice cracked.
    "You need to think it through." He stood.
    "No." What was there to think through? "You
don't love me. You don't even know me. We're in Nevada, we should
get a divorce."
    "Room 814," he said. "Just in case."
    ###
    Five hours later, Troy's lazy voice crackled
over Dean's cell phone. "So, has she called you?"
    Seated at the mini-office he'd created on the
table in his posh Las Vegas hotel room, Dean turned another page in
the quarterly report he was reviewing. "No, she hasn't called.
Apparently neither my money nor my social position were sufficient
incentives." He paused. "Lucky for you."
    "Lucky for me?" Troy guffawed. "This was all
your idea, Dean. I didn't tell you to go marry a showgirl. All I
said was    "
    "Yes," Dean interrupted. "I know what you
said."
    Troy barreled on anyway, gloating. "What I
said was for you to do what you wanted for forty-eight hours,
instead of what you should."
    Dean closed his eyes. His stomach twisted,
the way it did every time he recalled Troy's misbegotten hypnotic
suggestion. Do what you want instead of what you should .
Ridiculous. How could he have wanted to fly off to Las
Vegas? How could he have wanted to strike up with some   
some show dancer? And marry her!
    Still, it had happened. It was fact. And Dean
had had to deal with the consequences of his actions; soberly,
responsibly, and completely. He'd had to offer her his name and his
home.
    "So you're coming back a single man, after
all." Troy