He frowned and looked at his hand, the confusion remaining on his face. He looked over at me, his eyes squinting, hovering near where I clutched the sheet around my breasts.
I was about to take offense at his ogling me when his gaze returned to my eyes. “So are you.”
“What?”
“You’ve got a ring too.”
My head jerked down, looking at my left hand, and sure enough, there was a gold band around my finger. My brain ceased to function. It didn’t make any sense. And then it did.
“Oh, my God.” I turned and sank onto the bed. How did this happen?
“Care to fill me in?” Max’s tone had gone from confused to suspicious.
I shook my head, still not believing I could’ve done something so stupid. “I’ve become a Las Vegas cliché.”
The bed shifted, and I glanced back to see Max getting out of bed, finding his boxers and his pants and slipping them on. “What does that mean?”
“We must have gotten drunk-married last night.”
His hands on his belt buckle stilled as his gaze jerked to me. “What?”
“It’s the only thing that explains this.”
He shook his head, finishing with his belt. “That doesn’t explain this. First of all, no one in their right mind would marry two people who were incoherently drunk.”
I arched a brow. “We’re in Las Vegas, Max.”
“Even so, there would have to be paperwork, right? A marriage license. Marriage certificate.”
He pulled the ring from his finger and tossed it onto the pillow. I had no illusions that Max and I were going to have some great love affair. Still, it hurt a little bit the way he yanked the ring off and tossed it away.
Even so, he was right. I pulled the ring from my finger and leaned over to set it on the side table. That’s when I saw the papers. I scooted closer to the side table and picked them up, studying them. “Oh, God.”
“What?” Max rounded the bed, buttoning his shirt.
I held the papers up. “Marriage license and certificate.”
He snatched the papers out of my hand, and again the force of it and the look on his face made me flinch.
His gaze moved from the paper to me. “Is this some sort of joke?” He tossed the papers on the bed, much like he had done with the ring.
Incensed, I stood up, gripping the sheet around me even tighter. It was hard to believe that just a few minutes ago, I was wrapped up in this man. “You think I did this?”
“The proof is in the papers, sweetheart.”
I was shocked at his derision. I wished I were fully dressed because I felt vulnerable in just the sheet. But maybe it was just as well because if my hands were free, I might’ve slapped him. “Your signature is on there as well, slick.”
He reached over, picking up the papers again, looking at the signature line. For a moment, he stood, looking utterly confused. The anger and accusation dissipated as he sank down onto the bed. “We’ll be able to get this annulled.”
“Being drunk doesn’t constitute being incapacitated to get an annulment in Las Vegas.”
“Sounds like you have experience with this.” A hint of his derision returned.
“This is Vegas, Max. I know about gambling and showgirls, but that doesn’t mean I gamble and dance.”
He set the paper on the bed and scraped his hand over his face again. “Not being able to read or understand what I was signing would be a reason to grant an annulment, wouldn’t it?”
“I suppose, but I don’t remember reading or signing it either, and I’m not so sure that being too drunk to read and sign will work.”