by Maisey Yates
Pooja was now standing, but Ethan still couldn’t get a clear line of sight through the crowd that was gathering around him. He hadn’t spoken to her since she walked out three months ago, but she’d sent him an email telling him she was getting married today. Why would she do that if she didn’t want him to make a grand gesture? It would’ve been helpful if she’d sent him some details other than that her groom was planning “a grand baarat down the Vegas strip.” He’d spent the entire morning driving up and down the strip, looking for a groom on a horse surrounded by a bunch of people dancing. The traditional Indian baarat, the arrival of the groom’s party, would be hard to miss, or so he thought. He’d been on the other side of the strip when he’d heard on the radio that traffic was snarled because of an Indian wedding, and he’d driven like a madman to get there.
He had charged in ready to take on the world, or at least a bunch of angry relatives, but now doubt snaked its way through him. Did Pooja really want him to rescue her? And how the hell was he going to get out of the hotel without hundreds of guests and hotel security guards stopping him?
Take off your veil and look at me, Pooja. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to succumb to her parents’ pressure and marry whichever Tom, Dick or Hari they had found for her. He was ready to step up and make a commitment.
Another man who bore a family resemblance to the one who’d identified himself as Pooja’s brother broke through the crowd and strode toward him. Who knew how many family members there were, and Ethan had zero backup. When will you stop being so impulsive? His mother’s familiar recrimination blared in his head.
He focused on Pooja, who was clearly looking in his direction, despite the veil on her face. “I’m sorry I was such an ass and didn’t realize how much you meant to me. I want to marry you. Run away with me.” Brother One whispered something into a phone, no doubt calling security. “We must go now!”
“Yo dude, this isn’t some Hollywood film. What do you think you’re doing?” Brother Number Two was now within punching distance and didn’t seem quite as reserved as Brother One. “My sister doesn’t know who you are. Get out before I…” He pulled his arm back, clearly preparing to punch Ethan in the face.
“Wait!” Pooja’s voice sounded strange.
All eyes turned toward her. As she stepped down from the stage with an easy grace, she fisted some of the long burgundy skirt that flowed to her heels. It was covered with shiny gold thread and shimmering diamond jewels. The gold-colored top was cropped a few inches above her navel, showing a tantalizing strip of her stomach and back. Visions of running an ice cube across that navel, then licking up the droplets of water flashed through his mind. Why hadn’t he actually done that with Pooja when they were together?
Her hands had intricate henna patterns from her fingers to her elbow, and her wrists were covered in red-and-white bangles. The crowd dispersed to let her through to him. She lifted her veil as she made her way toward him, and his heart slammed into his chest.
It wasn’t Pooja.
“I love you! I cannot go through with this wedding.” She leaped into his arms and crushed all the air out of his lungs. He instinctively placed his hands on her waist as she clung to him. Her skin was cool and soft beneath his fingers. She smelled like vanilla and cinnamon.
“What the…?” But he didn’t finish what he was going to say because she pressed her lips to his and all rational thought left his brain. His arms tightened around her, and the silence of the stunned crowd matched his stopped heartbeat.
She broke the kiss a bare second after it had begun, leaving him feeling shorted.
“Do not say a word.” Her warm breath teased his ear, rousing a fire in his belly. “If you tell them you have the wrong wedding, my brothers will beat you to a pulp for kissing me. I suggest we take advantage of the surprise and run.”
She had a slightly Indian, slightly musical and entirely arousing accent. He reluctantly moved his eyes from her mouth and looked at her brothers, whose murderous expressions got him to haul ass.
“Out of our way!” He grabbed her hand. Given that there had to be hundreds of guests milling about, they had surprisingly little trouble getting moving. The guests eagerly parted so they could get a better angle for cell phone pictures and videos and then helpfully got in the way of their pursuers. It made for better social media posts if the bride actually got away.
Just wait until they find out who I am.
She matched his fast pace, despite the fact that they were on grass and she was wearing two-inch-high heels and a skirt that probably weighed more than she did. Once they got past the guests, she yanked his arm and he let her take the lead. People were shouting in various languages behind him, and he was glad he had no idea what they were saying.
Instead of running into the main building, where four men in black were making their way toward them, the bride banked a hard left. “There’s a gate through the serenity garden that isn’t guarded.” She led them to a wooden gate embedded in a perimeter wall.
I don’t think this is what they had in mind when they made this emergency exit.
It had one of those childproof locks, but she expertly handled it. Had she planned the escape route? Ethan hoped so; her brothers had recovered from their shock and were almost upon them.
They went through the gate and he pulled it shut behind him just as a hand snaked out. By the yelp he heard on the other side of the door, he’d succeeded in slamming the door shut. They exited onto a side street and he looked around to get his bearings. The front of the hotel faced the famous Vegas strip.
“Where’s your car parked?” she asked urgently.
“Not far,” he said and led her down the street. He had illegally parked nearby, and they had miraculously exited on the right side of the hotel, so the car was just down the block. As they approached it, he saw a ticket on the windshield. He ignored the piece of paper and went to the passenger side and touched the handle. The Tesla roadster recognized his fingerprint and unlocked. He opened the door and the bride gracefully lowered herself into the deep bucket seat. Just as he started the car, a hand smacked the passenger-side window, and he looked to see Brothers One and Two at her door. He floored the accelerator. Vegas traffic didn’t really allow for a high-speed chase, so he made a series of turns, hoping to lose whoever pursued them.
“We need to get out of Vegas,” the bride said, her voice frantic.
He drove aggressively until they were at least a mile from the hotel, then pulled into a public parking garage and stopped the car. He turned to her. Her beautiful dark eyes gazed back at him with such lustrous excitement that he momentarily lost his train of thought.
“We aren’t going anywhere until you tell me who you are.”
She stuck out her hand. “Divya Singh. Very nice to meet you. Now we have to get moving.”
He shook his head. “You have to get moving. I have a wedding to crash. The right one this time.”
CHAPTER TWO
Divya resisted the urge to scream at the man sitting next to her. He didn’t owe her anything, but she needed him if she was going to get away from her family. “How about I help you find the right wedding? I assume you’re after an Indian bride. You’ll have an easier time getting in with me by your side.” The last place her brothers would look for her was at another wedding. They had no way of knowing that the man sitting next to her was a perfect stranger, and she needed his help if she was going to get to New York City. Now that she’d done the unthinkable, this was her only chance to do the one thing she needed to do.
He narrowed his eyes, and she tried not to focus on how crystal blue they were or the way that the little crinkles in the corners of his mouth sent a little tingle down her spine. He wasn’t even her type. Though it was hard not to notice his sandy-brown hair, which glinted when it caught the sunlight streaming through the windows, or the angular cheekbones, sharp nose and br
oad shoulders. He looked effortlessly athletic and chic in a black tuxedo that looked tailor-made for him.
“Let’s start with your name,” she said.
He gave her a half smile and her heart gave a little kick. “Ethan Connors.”
Somewhere in the recesses of her brain, the name sounded familiar, but she was sure she’d never met him before. I wouldn’t ever forget him. She produced her best smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Now, about that wedding you want to crash. What’s the bride’s name?”
“Pooja Chaudhry.”
Divya pointed to his phone.
“I already tried googling her name and today’s date and every other key word I could think of.”
“Look at her social media.”
“I already did.”
Divya just held out her hand and raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. He sighed, then tapped on the phone several times and finally handed it to her. Pooja’s Facebook page was on the screen. She was an attractive Indian woman with straight black hair, brown eyes, a sharp nose, cheekbones to die for, skin the color of white sand and a wide mouth. Dressed in a sundress with a field of sunflowers behind her, she looked gorgeous. No wonder Ethan had fallen hard for her. Divya felt an unfamiliar twinge deep in her chest. She had no complaints about winning the genetic lottery in the looks department, so why did this woman’s beauty bother her?
She clicked on Pooja’s friends and began looking through their recent posts. In a few minutes, she found what she was looking for and turned the phone so Ethan could see. There was a shot of a smiling Pooja in a stunning bridal lehnga with the MGM Grand logo behind her.
He reversed the car and punched the accelerator. They tore through the streets of Vegas, though as much as he changed lanes, Ethan couldn’t escape the slow-moving traffic on the strip. The one-mile journey took them almost twenty minutes. He finally screeched to a stop at the front of the hotel, handed the valet a key and a hundred-dollar bill. “Keep it right here, ready to go, and I’ll give you a real tip when I leave.”
They asked where the wedding was and were directed to one of the large ballrooms. They went inside, and as soon as she caught sight of the bride, Divya grabbed Ethan’s arm. But he kept walking.
“You’re too late,” she said a little too loudly and cringed as a few of the guests looked in their direction. He stopped. “I’m sorry, Ethan. See how she’s throwing rice onto the cloth behind her? This is done after the wedding ceremony as the bride says goodbye to her family.”
Divya looked at Ethan’s face, expecting it to crumple, but he sighed, and she had a feeling it was in relief and not frustration.
“I should talk to her.” The way he said it, Divya wasn’t sure if he’d meant it as a question.
“I believe Vegas is very liberal with their marriage annulments. If you are serious about marrying her, you should make your case.”
They both studied Pooja. Like Divya, she was wearing the traditional red-and-white choora bangles worn by brides on their wedding day and for months to a year after, depending on the family’s traditions, to signify her newlywed status. Her lehnga was a pink bejeweled skirt with a royal blue border and a matching top that showed off a small section of her midriff. The groom whispered something in her ear, and she smiled stunningly. She whispered something back and he laughed, then leaned over and kissed her on the cheek to the general merriment of the gathered crowd.
“It doesn’t look like she wants me to save her,” Ethan muttered.
Divya had to agree. The bride looked excited and happy, not teary-eyed or forlorn in any way. Not the way she herself had looked earlier this morning. A pang of jealously hit Divya. She didn’t want to get married, but if she had to, she wanted to be as happy as Pooja looked with her groom.
Ethan stared at Pooja and Divya realized they were attracting a few looks. Pooja looked in their direction and Divya stepped away from Ethan.
Pooja’s eyes widened. She whispered to her groom, then stepped toward them. The eyes of two hundred people followed her. “What are you doing here?” she said in a low voice once she came closer. Her eyes flicked to Divya, then back to Ethan. He stood silent.
Divya stepped up to Pooja and hugged her, then whispered in her ear, “He crashed my wedding, looking for you.” She released Pooja and said in a loud voice, “We had to come congratulate you, even though it’s also my wedding day.”
Pooja caught on quick. She turned around. “I need just one minute with my friend, then I’ll be back.”
An older lady stepped forward. “Hurry up, Pooja. The car is ready.”
Pooja led the way and Divya took Ethan’s hand. He frowned, and she leaned over and stood on tiptoe to whisper, “She’s a married woman. Appearances are important.”
He didn’t argue but his lips thinned. Pooja led them through a set of doors and into a food-prep area. A waiter came toward them. “Please, just one minute,” Pooja said, and he nodded.
“I’ll wait outside,” Divya started, but Pooja shook her head. “I need you to stay here.”
Ethan shook his head. “I came here to break up your wedding and you’re still worried about appearances.”
Pooja glared at him. “How dare you show up here to ruin things for me? You had me, Ethan, and you let me go. If I wanted you here, I would’ve sent you an invitation. You’re doing what you always do, going for what you want without considering how it affects everyone around you.”
“If you didn’t want me here, why did you send me that email saying you loved me and would’ve married me?”
She sighed. “Past tense, Ethan. I sent you that email for closure. It was a goodbye, not an invitation.” She stepped closer and put her hand on his arm. “I said some really harsh things the last time we saw each other. I didn’t want to start my new life by leaving things like that with us. I wanted you to know that you were special to me.”
Ethan was silent and Divya resisted the urge to stand up for him. She looked at him, and though his eyes were focused on Pooja, he seemed to be a million miles away.
Finally he asked, “Do you want to be married to that guy?”
Pooja’s eyes softened. “Yes,” she said. “My parents set us up, but Anil and I fell in love.”
“So quickly?” he said skeptically.
“I know you think arranged marriages are forced, but that’s not the case. I was ready to settle down and so was he. We already got along with each other’s families. There was no bullshit between us, so Anil and I could focus on whether we wanted to be together. It doesn’t take long to fall in love once you’re ready.”
Pooja’s eyes flicked to the door. “I’m sorry, Ethan. What you and I had was something special, but you know as well as I do that you were never going to marry me.”
She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got to go. Try not to get in the way of your own happiness.”
Ethan stood rigid with his back to the door as she left.
Divya touched his arm. “Are you okay?”
He shrugged. “Guess that’s that. Where do you want me to take you?”
Divya stared at him. How could he be so nonchalant about the woman he loved getting married to someone else? Divya had a ton of questions for him, but he turned away from her, and she sensed that he didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe he was embarrassed.
“What do you want to do next?” he asked.
Divya chewed on her lip. Do I dare? She’d come this far, might as well go all the way.
“There is someplace I’d like to go but…” As she said the words, the weight of what she’d done began to descend on her. She had wrestled with the decision for weeks, ever since her parents had announced her wedding to Vivek. She had protested and threatened and planned her escape, but ultimately, she’d lacked the courage to stand up to them. It wasn’t until she was sitting next to Vivek by the holy marital fire that the rea
lization hit her that she would never get a chance to love a man or be free to chart the course of her life. Nor would she get a chance to do the one thing she had dreamed of. She wasn’t that religious, but in that moment, she’d prayed for an escape. And then Ethan had shown up.
“I don’t have any money with me.”
“You have enough jewelry on you to buy a house.”
Divya’s hand flew to the diamond choker around her neck. “This is my mother’s. You can’t sell family jewelry.”
Ethan smirked. “Spoken like someone who comes from money.”
Divya bristled. “You don’t seem hard up. A Tesla isn’t a poor man’s car.”
“I earn my money,” Ethan said wryly.
“Well, I work, too, and if I could, I would happily live on what I earn,” she said hotly, but his words burned into her. She’d been handed everything in life. While she knew how lucky and privileged she was, she had no sense of whether she was worth anything beyond her family’s wealth.
She took a breath. “We don’t have time to waste. I need to lay low for a few days. I don’t want to face my family when they’re so angry with me and while there’s still a chance for them to resume the wedding. I have a bag packed with some essentials. I could call my sister and see if she could deliver it somewhere.” Even as Divya said it, she knew her sister’s phones and movements would be monitored by her family.
“It’s probably not a good idea to contact your sister if you’re trying to avoid the rest of your family. Do you have your driver’s license?” He scanned her body slowly and deliberately as though he were examining her with X-ray vision.
