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exotic," he says. "What do you think?"
    No to all of that. "Um, if it's okay with you, I'd like to wait."
    "Really? You don't want to jump on a plane tomorrow and go somewhere exciting?"
    Shaking my head, I know I'm already disappointing him. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet. And I'm afraid of planes; I've never been on one."
    His expression is a mix of shock and humor. "What? Are you kidding?"
    "No. I've never traveled at all."
    He sits on the bed and kicks off his shoes. "That's gonna have to change. I travel a lot with the band, and I wanted a wife to come with me sometimes, or at least go on vacation with me when I'm not touring."
    I swallow hard as my stomach sinks. "How often do you tour?"
    "Depends. We don't tour a lot like most bands do, only like two or three times a year, sometimes more, and usually not longer than a few weeks at a time. My older brother who's in the band has family obligations, so he can't be away for long stretches of time."
    "So what happens during the tour? Where do we stay if I went? And what happens to me if I stay home?"
    He shrugs. "If you go, then we stay all over. On the bus, in motels. It all depends. If you don't go, you stay home wherever we're living."
    That sounds awful to me, living like a gypsy. Exactly what I didn't want, not having a solid home. "That's not really what I wanted. I like to be home, and I don't like being alone all the time. I was hoping for stability." My voice cracks as I realize all the reasons I wanted to get married are slowly going down the drain.
    "You'll have it. Just different than you thought." He meets my eyes for a moment and his soften just a bit. "Hey, we don't have to talk about all this right now. It's been a long day; we're both tired and a little bit wacked-out over this whole thing. Let's just get some rest, and tomorrow we'll figure out where we're going to live and everything else. If you wanna wait for the honeymoon, that's fine. I'm not gonna force you to do anything."
    I smile weakly. "Thank you. This is just harder than I was expecting, I guess."
    "Agreed. I'm gonna take a quick shower." He rummages around in one of his duffel bags the hotel staff brought up while we were at the reception and then disappears into the bathroom.
    Letting out a deep breath, I close my eyes for a few moments and try to calm myself. It will be okay. They put us together. They know what they're doing. Right now I can't fathom what we have in common—or ever sharing any kind of closeness with this guy—but the experts must have seen something in him that I can't see yet.
    Standing to get undressed, I realize I can't get my own wedding gown off. Shit. There are way too many tiny buttons I can't reach, and there is no way I'm going to get it up and over my head. I knew I should never have let Kat talk me into buying this dress. Tarzan barely even looked at me in it, anyway. I could have picked out something much simpler and easier to get off, and he never would have known any different.
    "Why are you still sitting there?" He saunters out of the bathroom wearing nothing but black sweat pant shorts, his long hair damp and hanging down to the middle of his back and chest, tiny drops of water dripping down over his heavily inked and very muscular naked torso. And wow, this guy is ripped with hard, defined muscles. I've never seen so much muscle on a man in real life. Despite the hair and tats, just seeing his half-naked body and the way he flexes with each movement has my insides quivering. I cannot even imagine ever touching a body like that or having someone like him be interested or attracted to me in any way, in any realm of reality.
    Tearing my eyes away from the muscular V that disappears under the waistband of his pants, I tell him I can't get the dress off.
    "So I guess I hafta undress you?" He flashes that notoriously devilish grin at me and tosses his towel onto the floor.
    "That would be great…if you don't mind."
    He crosses the room quickly, and once