Married By Mistake

tonight. Think of it as a groomfest.”
    * * *
    “Y OU WIN , C ASEY .”
    Alone in the silence of his office, Adam found the words easier to say than he’d expected. Instead of feeling as if he’d lost control, anticipation thrummed through his veins. Anything might be possible when he had Casey by his side....
    Except she wasn’t by his side. Because he had let her go.
    Smart, Adam. Very smart.
    He tucked the phone between shoulder and chin so he could lift a sleeve and look at his watch. Seven o’clock. His stepmother’s party would be starting right about now. He didn’t want to go—he didn’t want to go anywhere ever again—without Casey.
    “Did you say something?” Sam had been hemming and hawing on the other end of the line as he shuffled through his papers, searching for the relevant section to read to him.
    Adam shook his head, though of course Sam couldn’t see that. “Just thinking aloud,” he said. He could picture the lawyer pursing his lips.
    “Strikes me you’ve done too much thinking lately,” Sam muttered. “This was one crazy idea. I’m amazed the judge even agreed to it. Wouldn’t you be better just to move on?”
    Adam grinned, ridiculously light-headed. “That’s your professional opinion, is it?”
    “For what it’s worth.” Sam clearly doubted his advice would be followed. “Still, what’s done is done. Just don’t expect to be able to undo it so easily.”
    “I won’t be undoing it,” Adam said confidently. He leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on his desk in a way he never did. “Are you going to Eloise’s party?”
    There was a pause at the other end. “She didn’t invite me. Which in itself is significant, don’t you think?”
    “Uh, maybe,” Adam said.
    “I’m going anyway.”
    “You’re gate crashing?” Sam never did things like that. No one did things like that to Eloise.
    “I believe that is the vernacular term for it,” Sam said stuffily.
    “Wow.” Adam was impressed. “I guess I’ll see you there.”
    He ended the call and changed into the tuxedo he planned to wear. But instead of heading to Eloise’s house, he drove the company car he was using, while he figured out what to do about the Aston Martin, toward the leafy suburb where Casey had her studio apartment.
    Repeatedly pressing her doorbell brought no response. Adam cursed. He’d been so buoyed up by the thought of seeing her, by what he had to tell her, he could hardly believe she wasn’t at home. No sign of her car—his car—either.
    He would wait.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
    S AM CLAMBERED OUT OF the taxi at Eloise’s house, then took a moment to adjust his costume. Damned uncomfortable getup. The breeches were tight enough to pose a permanent risk to a man’s ability to demonstrate his passion, the coat sleeves ended in a froth of lace around his wrists, and as for the color... Sam had never worn peacock-blue in his life and, after tonight, he never would again. He’d drawn the line at the wig. He was Prince Charming, not Prince Ridiculous.
    He looked at his watch through the slits in his mask. Eight-thirty. The party would be in full swing. He would make a dramatic entrance, say his piece, claim his prize. Then endure a few more hours in this costume.
    He picked up the cushion he’d placed on the step while he straightened his outfit. It took two hands to carry the blasted thing; the glass slipper was attached by discreet threads, but wobbled unromantically if he didn’t grip it right.
    Sam blew out a calming breath. Wearing this silly costume was a small price to pay if he got what he wanted. He reminded himself how Eloise had responded to his kiss at that barbecue lunch—she’d been even more shocked than he was at her passion. He didn’t doubt that was why she hadn’t invited him tonight. She was running scared, though she might not know it.
    In his younger days, Sam had worked as a prosecutor of white-collar criminals. Some of his most satisfying moments had come from cases where a key witness hadn’t been able to see what had been right there all along. When awareness dawned, the witness’s credibility was even greater than that of one who’d told the same story right through. That was when Sam knew he had the case in the bag.
    He paused at Eloise’s front door. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he had Eloise in the bag. But she was in that dawning realization phase. And because Sam was several steps ahead of her, he had the upper hand.
    He lifted