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  Then the minister said, “If any man can show just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak,” and Min took a step closer to her sister.

  Di turned to look at her, and Min met her eyes. “Do it.”

  After a moment, the minister nodded, and began the vows.

  Di reached out and clutched Min’s arm and whispered, “I do,” and Min sighed in relief.

  “Not yet, dear,” the minister whispered back.

  “No,” Min said to him. “That’s not what she means.” She nodded at Diana again. “Do it.”

  Di swallowed. “I object,” she said, but her voice was so faint that the minister leaned forward.

  “She objects,” Min said loudly.

  “To what?” Greg said.

  “To you, you traitorous son of a bitch,” Min said, and heard a gasp from the front pews. Loud voice, loud voice, she told herself. Not your loud voice. Then she looked at Greg again, and thought, Hell, yes, my loud voice.

  “I object,” Di said, her voice up to room temperature again. She turned so she was facing the pews. “I object to the groom sleeping with my bridesmaid last night. I object to the groom being a—” Her voice broke.

  “Cheating, scum-sucking pig,” Min said to Greg behind Di’s back, definitely in her loud voice.

  “Yes,” Di said, and walked down the steps, her bouquet quivering.

  “Also, your hair is stupid,” Min said to Greg, and started down the chapel steps after her sister. Greg caught her arm, and said, “Wait a minute—” and she swung back to let him have it, and then Cal was between them, shouldering Greg aside. Behind them Wet said to Worse, “You slept with Greg?,” and then somebody tapped Greg on the shoulder just as Wet lunged for Worse, and Greg turned around and met George’s fist as Wet yanked hard on Worse’s chignon, and Worse went ass over elbow into the front pew.

  Cal caught Greg by the shoulders just before he hit the ground, and they both looked up to see Nanette, coming at them, exquisite in pearl gray.

  “You’re a horrible man,” she said to Greg, and kicked him in the ribs with her pointed Manolo Blahniks.

  “Mother,” Min said.

  Nanette said, “Thirty-seven goddamn years,” kicking him on every word, until Min pulled her away. She staggered sideways and ended up facing George, who was trying to get past Cal to hit Greg again. “And you, too,” Nanette said and smacked him in the head with her purse.

  George put his hands up to ward her off and said, “What did I do?” and she stormed down the aisle, her head held high.

  Behind George’s back, Wet said, “You bastard,” to Greg and began to hit him in the face with her bouquet while Worse tried to crawl out of the pew.

  “I have to go to Di,” Min said to Cal. “Step on his head, will you?”

  “Go,” Cal said, and the last thing she saw as she turned for the door was Cal dropping Greg on the carpet to block George from hitting him again while Wet whaled on him with her orchids.

  Cal found Min at the reception, since Di had insisted on going to meet anybody who might show up. They were sitting in the mostly deserted ballroom with Liza, Bonnie, and an entirely too cheerful Wet, while Roger ferried champagne back and forth and Nanette consoled Di with the news that all men were cheating scum.

  “Mother,” Min said, and Cal took her hand and pulled her out into the hall with him.

  “My mother is insane,” Min said to him.

  “You just noticed?” Cal said, trying not to be distracted by her bulging neckline. “That looks like it hurts.”

  “It does,” Min said. “I’ve spent the entire day in bondage.” She peered back through the archway. “Look at Wet. She’s in there giggling. To think that I ever felt sorry for that wench. Did you need me for something?”

  “Yes,” Cal said, getting a little dizzy as her cleavage rose and fell. “Especially now that you brought up bondage. When can you take that off?”

  “I think I could lose it now, except the knots are so tight I can’t get them undone.” She ran her finger around the top of the corset, and Cal thought, Let me do that. “It’s killing me.”

  “Wait,” Cal said, and fished in his pocket for his pocketknife.

  He slipped the knife under the bow and sliced through the ribbon, and Min took a deep breath as the rest of the corset began to unlace itself from the pressure. “Oh, Lord, that feels good.”

  Cal watched the rise and fall of her loosened corset. “Looks good, too.” Even though he knew better, he drew his finger down the slope of her breast and felt the need for her that had been simmering for weeks flare up again.

  If he didn’t have her soon, he was going to lose his mind.

  She said, “Hey,” and caught his hand.

  “Not my fault,” he said, close to her mouth. “You were flaunting.”

  Her mouth melted under his, warm with familiarity, and her breath came faster as his hand curled around the firmness of her breast. “Oh,” she said, and he kissed his way down the smooth curve of her neck and felt her sigh under his hand. “Oh, that feels so good. But I have to—”

  “I know,” he said, holding on to her. “I shouldn’t have—” He kissed her again, wanting her so much that he couldn’t let go.

  “Yes, you should have,” Min said, against his mouth. “But Di—”

  “Right,” Cal said, remembering his mission. “That’s what I came to tell you. One of the ushers has Greg out in the car. Does Diana want to see him before he goes? He wants to apologize.”

  “Hell, no,” Min said, pulling away from him. “What can he possibly say?”

  “ ‘I’m the biggest cliché in bad wedding stories’?” Cal said, missing her warmth. “If it helps, the ushers are disgusted with him, too.”

  “I hate him,” Min said, looking back into the ballroom.

  “How is she?” Cal said, following her eyes to her sister, feeling guilty that he was having carnal thoughts while Di was in misery.

  “I think she’s almost relieved,” Min said, watching her. “Not happy, and she’s going to cry, but I think she knew she wanted the wedding and not Greg.”

  “Very sensible of her,” Cal said. “Who would want Greg?”

  Min stretched up and kissed him. “I’m staying with her tonight.”

  “I figured,” Cal said, hating it anyway. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. “I want you, Minerva.”

  “I’m free tomorrow night,” she said, smiling up at him. “Go get rid of that jerk and come back for champagne.”

  “Be right back,” Cal said, and kissed her again, surprised all over again that it was so easy, that everything with her had become so easy. That can’t be right, he thought, but he grinned anyway as he went to tell the ushers they could remove Greg.

  On his way back from the car, Cal ran into David.

  “I think the reception’s over, David,” Cal said, trying not to snarl. “You can go home now.”

  “I can’t,” David said, looking noble. “There’s something you should know.”

  Oh, hell, Cal thought and said, “What?”

  “That bet we made,” David said, “the one where you could get Min into bed in a month.”

  “What?” Cal looked at him, confused. “What bet? We didn’t make that bet. That was you, being drunk and reckless.”

  “Min knows,” David said, and Cal felt a chill. “She overheard it that night, that’s why she went out with you, to pay us both back and to get a date to this fiasco. They all knew, Liza, Bonnie, her sister, she told everybody. They’ve all been laughing at us.”

  The hallway suddenly seemed too narrow, not enough air, and it was much too cold for June.

  “I had to tell you because if she knows about it, the bet’s off. You never had a chance to win. She’s been playing you the whole time.”

  “No,” Cal said, his throat tight. “She wouldn’t.” The familiar slug of shame and self-loathing hit him—how stupid can you be?—even while common sense told him this