In the historic Gold Rush town of Hot Water, California, heiress Honor Witherspoon and recluse Bram Bennett decide upon a modern-day marriage of convenience. What were they thinking? Read all about it in this story in which Honor and Bram learn to believe in that thing called love.

Excerpt from THEN COMES MARRIAGE:

Honor studied her new husband, noting his ruthlessly cut dark hair and the equally ruthless angles and planes of his cheeks and jaw. Though she'd occasionally glimpsed him from afar about town, their wedding that morning had been their first actual meeting. Since her father had coerced them into nuptials during a three-point, three-way conference call, today was the closest she'd ever been to Bram Bennett's six-plus feet of lean, hard body.

It didn't take much imagination to picture him in camouflage paint, moving stealthily through a danger-filled jungle. He was attractive, she supposed, if one wasn't intimidated by all that stony commando coolness.

Which of course she wasn't.

She wiped her palms on her dress and pinned on a social smile. "The marriage is only going to last a few months, I swear. Three months, four tops."

Something about his cynical expression made her reckless. "Six weeks then," she promised. "In six weeks he'll know as I do--that in Hot Water I'm perfectly safe. Until then..."

"Until then you plan to intrude upon my privacy and solitude."

His put-upon tone stung. "Well, you should have chimed in when I was trying to convince my father you could handle my security detail without me living in your house and without us being married," she said. "That was not the time to hone your strong and silent act."

Bram shifted and a shadow obscured his face. "Your father mentioned that a man would go to any lengths to protect his wife," he said, his voice harsher than before. "Not only couldn't I counter that argument, but I have some...compassion for it."

Honor's heart squeezed and her irritation evaporated. Bram had a very good reason for that compassion. "It won't be so bad," she said, rubbing a sympathetic ache in her chest. They could become friends, right? "I have it all figured out."

He shook his head. "I just bet you do," he muttered, then took off down the hallway with her suitcases.

She followed behind, feeling almost cheerful as he strode past a doorway that he said led to his office. She was still cheery when he stopped and set her luggage on the floor at his feet.

"And here," he said, "here is the master suite...my bedroom." With one hand he made a welcoming gesture toward an ajar door.

Honor froze. He expected her to sleep with him?

No. No!

"You said it won't be so bad. You said you had it all figured out." His expression turned frigid and his voice lowered to an even rougher rasp. "Maybe I have it all figured out too."