Four Weddings and a Fiasco: The Wedding Caper by Patricia McLinn Page B

did the group meeting room, hot tub area, and dining room.
    K.D. hadn’t spotted any in the massage room, but they’d only seen the reception area there. The massage rooms were in back.
    There’d been a camera in the elevator that brought them upstairs, another outside of it. She hadn’t seen any in the hallway leading to the room. Still, she should have thought to look for cameras here.
    Those were her first thoughts. Then the potential ramifications slid in. They were being watched in this room. They had to keep up the charade of being a couple not just in public, but also during every moment they were in this room.
    This bedroom.
    ****
    T he counselor named Melody Samelson was calm and pleasant. The room where they met her was calm and pleasant, with French doors to the courtyard. Despite the doors being closed — presumably for privacy — they let in appreciable late afternoon natural light through sheer curtains.
    “This is simply a get-acquainted session. A chance for us to get to know each other before the hard work starts tomorrow. We’ll go over the schedule for your stay here to give you a sense of how things will proceed. First, however, I understand that you expressed issues with the sleeping arrangements,” Melody said with warm concern. Or possibly concerned warmth.
    So Ms. Smiley was a snitch. Yes, the receptionist’s name was Lily, but Ms. Smiley fit so well.
    K.D. returned Melody’s gaze. “I wouldn’t say
issues
. Displeasure.”
    Melody didn’t blink. “How
is
your sexual relationship?”
    “Non-existent,” Eric murmured.
    Despite herself, K.D. felt heat coming into her cheeks and an urge to giggle rising up her throat. Neither suited her role. She said, “Whose fault is that?”
    The counselor intervened. “Now, now there’s no fault here. This is a no-fault zone. All of Marriage-Save is a no-fault zone. We must all adhere to that the entire time we’re here.”
    With her cheeks still prickling, K.D. barely withstood the temptation to ask if Melody was also going through counseling, what with all the
we
's she tossed around.
    “But there’s no need to feel any pressure about physical intimacy during your stay at Marriage-Save. We strongly —
strongly
— encourage our clients to refrain from such activity here.”
    “That won’t be a problem,” K.D. said firmly.
    Melody flicked a look at her, softened with another smile. “Fine. Now, let’s talk about what brought you to Marriage-Save.”

 
    CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
     
    K.D. planned to wait for Eric to fall asleep.
    Surely Marriage-Save hadn’t installed night-vision cameras in the guest rooms, so then she’d have to slip out of the room and avoid the cameras in the public areas.
    She recognized the flaw in that plan while lying beside Eric in the dark in the too-small bed. That’s when she realized that unless he snored, she was unlikely to know for sure that he was asleep.
    They’d prepared for bed with distant politeness. Those who watched the cameras might infer seething sentiments beneath the politeness, but K.D. knew it was simply distant politeness, through and through.
    They were here for one reason. To get the job done. As he’d said, it was time to get to work.
    That she knew how to do.
    He’d waved her to the bathroom first.
    As soon as the door closed with him in the bathroom, she changed into the capri pajama bottoms and three-quarter-sleeve top she’d bought. Thank heavens she had.
    If she hadn’t wanted to be more covered up to share a house with him, she would have been about to share a bed with him wearing a ruffled nightshirt and nothing more.
    Even with the extra covering, she made sure to have her clothes folded and put away, and to be in the bed with the covers up while he was still in the bathroom.
    When he came out, he wore a pair of pajama bottoms. Only a pair of pajama bottoms, and they did not start at his narrow waist, but significantly lower. That jolted her for a second.
    But that was silly. He