Claire stared at him in horror as he hung up with an air of patent satisfaction. “Six weeks?” she echoed. “It’s impossible to put on a wedding for more than seven hundred people in six weeks! That takes months of planning!”
“Six weeks, or I’ll carry you before a judge and do the deed. I’m being generous, at that. My inclination is to marry you this weekend, and it’s damned tempting. The only thing is, a lot of people would never forgive us.”
He flashed her a brilliant smile, standing and holding his hand out to her. Claire put her hand in his, and he pulled her to her feet and into his arms, kissing her long and hard. “Don’t worry. Between your mother and mine, this wedding will be perfect. Nothing would dare go wrong.”
To Claire’s consternation, he didn’t take her to one of the small jewelry stores she’d anticipated. Instead she found herself seated in a luxurious salon while the manager brought trays of glittering jewels for her inspection. What on earth was Max thinking about? Surely he didn’t think he had to compete with Jeff Halsey in the material things he could give her? Claire knew that Max was certainly not poor; his salary was far more than comfortable, but it didn’t make him a millionaire. He didn’t have to compete with Jeff in anything, because he had Jeff outclassed in everything.
But there the rings were, waiting for her to make a selection. “What I really want is a plain simple old-fashioned wedding band,” she said, frowning slightly.
“Certainly,” the manager said politely, starting to take away the tray of diamonds and emeralds and rubies.
“No, leave that,” Max instructed. “We’ll look these over again while you’re bringing the tray of wedding bands.”
Claire waited until the manager was out of hearing then turned to Max. “I prefer a wedding band, truly.”
He looked amused. “Darling, we’ll have our wedding bands, and don’t look so surprised. Of course I intend to wear a ring. I’ve waited long enough to be married. I’m not going to waffle about it. But this is for your engagement ring.”
“But I don’t need an engagement ring.”
“Strictly speaking, no one needs any sort of jewelry. An engagement ring is just as old-fashioned and traditional as a wedding band, a symbolic warning to other primitive and marauding males that you aren’t available.”
Despite her misgivings Claire couldn’t keep hersel
f from smiling in answer to the twinkle in his eyes. “Oh, is that what you’re doing, warning off other primitives?”
“One never knows what caveman instincts lurk beneath a silk shirt.”
Claire knew. She looked at him, and her breath caught as she remembered the wild sensuality behind his calm mask. Most people would never realize just how primitive he really was, because he disguised it so well with his lazy, good-humored manner. He was tolerant, so long as he could get his way with charm and reason, but she sensed the danger in him.
“That was supposed to be a joke,” he said lightly, touching her cheek to dispel the look she was giving him. “Take another look at these rings, won’t you, before the poor man gets back with that other tray.”
She did look at them then shook her head. “They’re too expensive.”
He laughed—he actually laughed. “Love, I’m not a pauper. Far from it. I promise you that I won’t have to go in debt for any of these rings. If you won’t choose, I’ll do it for you.”
He bent over the tray, eyeing each ring carefully. “I really don’t care for diamonds,” Claire tried, seeing that he was determined.
“Of course not,” he agreed. “They wouldn’t suit you, not even with that sexy black velvet gown of yours. Pearls are for you. Try this ring.” He plucked a ring from its velvet bed and slipped it on her finger.
Claire looked down at it, and a feeling of helplessness came over her. Why couldn’t it have been a truly hideous ring that she would have hated on sight? Instead it was a creamy pearl, surrounded by glittering baguettes, and it looked just right on her slender hand.
“I thought so,” he said in satisfaction as the manager returned with a tray of wedding bands.
Claire was silent as they left, still trying to come to terms with the changes this wedding would bring in her life, had already brought even though they weren’t married yet. Max put his arm around her and held her close, as if trying to shield her from the worries that darkened her eyes.
“What is it, love?” he asked, following her into the tiny house that she liked so much, but which had turned out to be only a temporary stopping place in her life.
“There are so many problems, and I’m not certain how to deal with them.”
“What sort of problems?”
“The wedding for one thing. It seems impossible, with so much to be done and the distance involved, the problems of transportation and housing and getting everything coordinated. The cake, the dresses, the tuxedos, the flowers, the receptions. Not only that, I’ve been divorced, and a white wedding is out of the question, if we can even have a church wedding at all.”
He held up his hand, halting her tense litany. “What did you just say?” he asked politely.
She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “You know very well what I said.”
“Then let me reassure you on two points, at least. One, we will be married in my family church, and no one will think anything of the fact that you’ve been married before. Two, you will definitely wear white.”