Pranked by Sienna Valentine Read Free Book Online Page A

I didn’t want it to end.
    I couldn’t help thinking she’d be angry, wouldn’t want anything to do with me. You could never tell how someone was going to react to a joke like this. Some people thought it was funny, some got upset. It wasn’t like I’d done it last night, as a way to get her into bed with me. All of that was natural. It was just a spur of the moment thing this morning—an automatic reaction after feeling slighted that she hadn’t remembered such a fantastic night. But maybe now I was taking it too far. There was a prickle in the back of my mind, my long-atrophied conscience making itself known, perhaps. Still, I pushed it aside. I wasn’t yet ready to give Ava up. Not yet. How could I? Besides, after what her douchebag ex had done to her, I really wasn’t anxious to add to her pain. I needed to find the right time to come clean, and it would have to be soon or it really would just make things worse.
    Just not just yet.
    When we reached the lobby, I offered my arm again, and her lips twisted into an amused smile as she took it, allowing me to lead her across the marble floor. We were only halfway to the desk when I spotted a young woman across the lobby. Her raven-haired head snapped up when she saw us, and a moment later, she was striding purposefully across the floor, eyes locked on Ava, heavy, black boots thudding on the marble.
    I had a feeling the jig was about to be decidedly up.

7
    Ava
    I couldn’t seem to let go of his arm. This man—my husband—whose full name I still didn’t remember (and was too embarrassed to admit). It was a solid support, and he didn’t seem to mind me using him for it. I had one hand in my pocket, fingers fiddling with the box.
    He’d bought me a ring.
    He was wearing one as well, simple and masculine, platinum studded with sapphire chips to match the one in my pocket.
    My mind wandered to the slip of paper we’d signed. The wedding certificate. It still felt so surreal, so unlike me, but somewhere in my heart, a rebellious spirit reared its head, and I found myself wanting to be this kind of girl. The kind who runs off to Vegas and marries a stranger. Hell, my tits were all over the Internet. Might as well run with the notoriety.
    Before we’d made it halfway across the lobby, he pulled up short, and I glanced up to see why he’d stopped. My heart leapt into my throat when I saw Layla stalking toward us, jet-black hair framing an expression of anger and fear.
    Oh, god. Layla. I’d forgotten all about her. How was I going to explain this?
    Before I could come up with an answer, Layla was flinging herself at me, silver rings clacking together as she pulled me into a tight, fierce hug.
    “Oh my god, boo! I was hella scared for you!” She pulled back, hands on my shoulders, looking me over a moment before pulling me back into her embrace. “Where the hell have you been?”
    “I’m sorry,” I said, not knowing what else I could possibly say. “I’m sorry. I... I was….”
    Layla pulled back again, looking from me to Campbell and back again. “You were with this guy?” Her tone and facial expression told me she was not impressed.
    “It’s... a long story,” I protested. My etiquette training kicked in, then, and I started introductions. “Layla, this is,” I began, and then I broke off. I still didn’t know his name.
    “Bennett Campbell,” he said, saving me the embarrassment by finishing the introduction quickly, not leaving a long enough gap for it to be obvious I wasn’t sure how to finish it. He offered his hand to Layla.
    Bennett. That’s right. Then I remembered something, a fresh snippet from last night returning to my foggy brain: it was me, laughing over his name, calling him Cowboy instead, for some reason. He’d kissed me after, I was certain of that, and my cheeks heated at the intensity of that particular memory.
    “Right,” I said, pulling my composure around me like a shield. “Bennett Campbell. My... my husband. Meet Layla.