Stroke of Luck

ock printing.

Her stomach twisted. Even drunk and spontaneously marrying her in an essentially fake wedding, he had protected himself with a prenup. Not that she could blame him. It just … hurt.

“April? Is something wrong?” Austin asked.

“No, I just…” She shook her head. “A memory from Saturday night.”

“When we all got married?” Quinn asked.

She nodded.

“Anything you want to share?” Quinn coaxed with a smile.

“No,” she said a bit too quickly, still reeling from the mélange of feelings swirling through her. “It was just a flash. Nothing substantial.” She turned to Austin. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

“I asked if you signed anything besides the prenup.”

“Yes, there were other papers. He signed over some properties and one of his companies to me. He said it would help with taxes.” Her eyes widened. “That wasn’t illegal, was it?”

“No, not illegal, but that’s what he’s worried about. You still own those things. And with the amount of money he’s offered to get you back, I take it they’re worth a hell of a lot.”

She shook her head. “But I assumed since we didn’t get married that they’d revert to him. The date of ownership was set at the day after the wedding.”

“It sounds like he was depending on the prenup alone to get the holdings back if you wound up getting divorced, never imagining the wedding itself wouldn’t happen.”

“So it sounds like you just became a multimillionaire,” Quinn said.

“I don’t want his properties,” April said. “I’ll tell him so tomorrow. I just want to be rid of him.”

“You should wait a little longer and make him sweat,” Quinn suggested.

“Whatever you decide to do, if he asks you to sign any papers, will you let my lawyer look them over?” Austin asked.

“Yes, thank you.” She smiled. “Now why don’t we forget about all this right now and just enjoy the rest of our day together. What would you like to do?”

* * *

After a long but wonderful day April would never forget, they stepped into the suite, and she slumped on the couch. They’d gone on a helicopter tour of the Grand Canyon, had a sumptuous dinner at a very exclusive French restaurant with a twenty-third-floor view, and finally enjoyed a hilarious comedy show.

She pulled off her shoes and tossed them under the coffee table. “You two spoiled me. I had such a good time.”

“You deserve to be spoiled,” Quinn said as he sat down beside her.

“Talking about having a good time,” Austin said as he settled at her other side, “the whole time we were out, all I could think about was coming back here and having a good time with you.”

She grinned at him. “Is that a proposition?”

“If it is, will I get a yes?” he asked, his eyes glittering.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty tired.” She stretched her legs out in front of her.

“Maybe we can find a way to revive you,” Quinn suggested, then ran his hand down her thigh and over her calf.

Austin turned her and tugged her onto his lap as Quinn drew her legs onto the couch. Then Quinn wrapped his hands around her foot and started to massage. She sighed as she rested against Austin’s chest, his strong arm holding her close. The pressure of Quinn’s fingertips moving over her foot sent waves of delight through her.

“Mmm, that feels wonderful.”

Austin’s lips brushed her ear. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look in this dress?” he asked as he slid the zipper down her back.