Excerpt of Love or Deception by Morgan K. Wyatt

“I love you,” Mark whispered into her hair as he slipped
one long, muscular leg over hers.

Amy snuggled closer to him, nuzzling his neck. Ah, she
loved this time, right after a rousing lovemaking session
when they were both sated and drowsy, drunk on the idea
that in a world of mismatched couples, somehow they found
each other. Mark’s slight snore alerted her he’d dropped
off to sleep. She should get up. There was so much to do
before work. Instead, she stayed, breathing in the peace
of the moment.

Hard to believe she was a bride. Not that she had
anything against marriage. She just hadn’t foreseen it
happening to her. How could it? All she did was work at
Theron under major security scrutiny. The only people she
saw were other employees, with the majority being women.
The confidentiality clause she’d signed forbade
fraternization between employees. The company must have a
reason for being so paranoid. Right now, she didn’t care.
All she wanted was her husband to awaken.

“Honey, do you remember our wedding?” Using her index and
middle fingers, she made slow circles across his wide
shoulders and around his muscular arm. The barbed wire
tattoos encircling his biceps always surprised her, not
that they didn’t look good on his tanned skin. They did.
No, it was that she never imagined herself as a woman
with a big gorgeous husband who could easily be a male
stripper or a porn star with his looks. Nope, she never
expected to marry. Even if a part of her held out hope,
she never expected anyone without a heavier eyeglass
prescription than hers.

Mark held up one arm, stretched, and twisted it enough to
make his bicep pop. He noticed her eyes following the
play of his muscles. His deliberate wink made her giggle
a little. Geesh, just another sign she was way out of her
depth. Truth told she never dated much, period. School,
then work consumed her every waking moment.
He rolled to his side, facing her, and yawned before
answering. “I do remember our wedding since I was there.
Plus it was only two weeks ago.”

“Yes.” All that was true, but it wasn’t what she wanted
to hear. By mentioning the subject, he might tell her how
wonderful it was or even describe it in detail. Did she
expect him to gush about the meaningfulness of their
vows? No way, she’d admit that she had issues bringing
their wedding into focus. All she could see was a couple
and minister on the beach with the sun setting in the
background. With the shadows falling on them, it was hard
to tell if the couple was even white, let alone if it was
actually them. The sun was setting in the west, which
worked since they married in Tahiti. Still, it had the
same feeling of looking at a magazine ad for honeymoons.

The woman had on a short dress, and the groom was
barefoot. That she could tell. They did have a whirlwind
romance. Was it possible she was drunk when she married
Mark? Was that why she couldn’t remember anything very
well? Her hope was, by mentioning the wedding, he might
also confess how wildly in love he was with her. It might
ease her fears about the two of them being an odd couple.

Her Aunt Remy raised her with a healthy self-esteem.
Being worthy of her handsome husband wasn’t an issue. It
was more a case of like going with like. She’d heard
enough comments when a couple showed with one partner
being more attractive. When the woman was more beautiful,
people assumed the man was rich and powerful. Charitable
women might think he was charming and good in bed.
Unfortunately, it never worked that way with the women.
People seemed genuinely baffled and usually predicted a
future break-up. Rather unfair if you asked her. Couldn’t
the woman have some great trait? Maybe she was smart,
interesting, and a decent conversationalist, even
reasonably good looking with a slender build and short
blonde hair. Her nose crinkled once she realized she’d
just described herself.

The curve between his shoulder and neck beckoned her to
nuzzle. The simple action reassured that they were
actually married and together. Everything happened so
fast. A slow roll of her body had Amy looking up at her
husband who pinned her to the mattress. “I think I know
what my own Dr. Death needs.” He wiggled his eyebrows and
leered at her.