For Shin hye  who had been uncomfortable during the previous week’s drive from her family's house , the 11 or 12 hour journey to  to Las Vegas was nothing short of torture. Woobin's private jet is more  comfortable than his car, but since she's not used to flying, she began to feel nauseated. 

Woobin was less obviously miserable than Shinhye, though he too had acquired a rumpled, travel-worn appearance. Any attempts at conversation had long since dwindled, and they sat together in stoic silence. Surprisingly, Woobin did not utter a word of protest about this grim exercise in endurance. Shinhye realized that he felt the same urgency that she did to reach Vegas. It was in his best interests, even more than hers, to see that they were legally married as soon as possible.

“We’re halfway there." His lips quirked with the wry suggestion of a smile. “No doubt there’s never been a bride more eager for the marital bed.”

Shinhye's  lips curved in an answering smile as she understood his implicit meaning—that she was eager for sleep, not for love play. As she stared into his face, so close to hers, she wondered absently how the signs of weariness on his face and the shadows beneath his eyes could make him look so appealing. Perhaps it was because he seemed human now, rather than like some heartless and beautiful Roman god. Much of his aristocratic arrogance had melted away, no doubt to reappear later when he was fully rested. For now, however, he was relaxed and approachable. It seemed as if some frail bond had been established between them during this hellish journey.

Woobin laced their fingers together lightly, drew a small circle in her palm with his thumb, then slid his fingers up to match them against hers. Although his complexion was fair, his skin was warm-toned, the kind that absorbed the sun easily. Eventually he ceased his playing and kept her fingers folded in his.

Surely this couldn’t be she…the wallflower Park Shin hye…alone in a luxurious private jet with a dangerous playboy, racing madly to Vegas. Look what I’ve started, she thought dizzily. Turning her head on his chest, she rested her cheek against the fine linen of his shirt and asked drowsily, “What is your family like? Do you have brothers and sisters?”

His lips played among her hair for a moment, and then he lifted his mouth to reply. “There’s no one left, save for my father and myself. I have no memories of my mother—she died of cancer when I was still an infant. I had four older sisters. Being the youngest, and the only boy, I was spoiled beyond reason. But when I was a child, I lost three of my sisters to a car accident. The one that was left—my eldest sister—married, but like your mother, she died in labor. The baby didn’t survive.”

Shinhye was very still during the matter-of-fact recitation, forcing herself to remain relaxed against him. But inside she felt a stirring of pity for the little boy he had been. A mother and four doting sisters, all vanishing from his life. It would have been difficult for any adult to comprehend such loss, much less a child. “Do you ever wonder what your life might have been like,” she found herself asking, “if you’d had a mother?”

“No.”

“I do. I often wonder what advice she’d have given me.”

“Since your mother ended up married to a ruffian like Park Hyunbin,” Woobin replied sardonically, “I wouldn’t have put too much stock in her advice.” A quizzical pause. “How did they meet? It isn’t often that a gently bred girl encounters Park's kind.”

“That’s true. My mother was riding in a car with my aunt—it was one of those winter days when the fog is so thick at noon that one can scarcely see a few yards ahead. The car swerved to avoid a street vendor’s cart, and threw down my father, who happened to be standing on the nearby pavement. At my mother’s insistence, the car driver stopped to ask after his condition. He was just a bit bruised, nothing more. And I suppose…I suppose my father must have interested her, because she sent a letter to him the following day, inquiring once more after his health. They began a correspondence—my father had someone else write his letters for him, as he wasn’t literate. I know of no other details, save that they eventually eloped.” A smile of satisfaction curved her lips as she imagined the fury of the Lee family upon discovering that her mother had run away with Park Hyunbin. “She was nineteen when she died,” she said reflectively. “And I’m twenty-five. It seems odd to have lived longer than she did.” Twisting in Woobin's arms, she glanced up at his face. “How old are you? Thirty-four? Thirty-five?”

“Thirty-two. Although at the moment I feel no less than a hundred and two.” He was staring at her curiously. “What happened to your stammer? It disappeared somewhere.”

“Did it?” Shinhye asked with mild surprise. “I suppose…I must feel comfortable with you. I tend to stammer less with certain people.” How odd—her stammer never completely vanished like this unless she was talking to children.

His chest moved beneath her ear in a huff of amusement. “No one’s ever told me that I’m a comfortable sort. I’m sure I don’t like it. I’ll have to do something diabolical soon to correct your impression.”

“No doubt you will.” She closed her eyes and slumped more heavily against him. “I think I’m too tired to stammer.”

His hand came up to her head, lightly her hair and the side of her face, his fingertips massaging her temple. “Sleep,” he whispered. “We’re almost there."

Las Vegas, Nevada came to be known as the Marriage Capital of the World as a result of the ease of acquiring a marriage license and the minimal costs involved. The city continues to be known as a popular wedding destination for the same reasons, but also as a result of the various types of weddings available. Nevada marriage licenses are notoriously easy to get; there is no blood test or required waiting period. Las Vegas has streamlined the process further. Once a short form is completed and submitted to the marriage license bureau along with $60 cash and a government issued photographic identification, a marriage license may be obtained within minutes until midnight every night.

At last, they reached its destination, a hotel located next to the chapel. Seeming to suspect that Shinhye might collapse from weariness, Woobin kept a firm arm around her as they stood before the hotelkeeper’s desk. The manager, a Mr. Andrews, beamed with delight upon learning that they were an eloping couple, and assured them with broad winks that he always kept a room at the ready for situations such as this.

“‘Tisn’t legal till ye consummate the weddin’, ye know,” he informed them in a nearly incomprehensible accent. “We’ve ‘ad tae sneak a puir gruim an’ ‘is bride ou’ the back duir o’  chapel, while their pursuers were ‘ammering aweey a’ th’ front. When they came tae the hotel an’ found baith lovers together in bed, the bridegruim was still weering ‘is boots! But there was no doubt the bonnie deed ‘ad been doon.” He laughed uproariously at the memory.

“What did he say?” Shinhye mumbled against Woobin's shoulder.

“I have no idea,” he said in her ear. “And I’d rather not speculate.” Raising his head, he said to the manager in clear English, “I want everything in the room ready when we return from the chapel.”

“Yes,suh.” Eagerly the manager received the cash that Woobin handed to him in exchange for a card key. “Wad ye ‘ave a supper tray as weel, suh?”

Woobin gave Shinhye a questioning glance, and she shook her head. “No,” he replied, “but I expect we’ll want a large breakfast tomorrow.”

“Aye, suh. Ye’re goin’ tae wed a’ the chapel, aren’t ye? Ah, guid. There’s nae better reverend in Vegas than Mr. MacPhee. A wise man, ‘e is…‘e’ll serve as a clerk tae the weddin’, an make oot a fine certificate for ye.”

“Thank you.” Woobin kept his arm around Shinhye as they walked out of the hotel and headed to the chapel next door. A quick glance down the street revealed rows of fine hotels and shops, with colorful la