by Elle James
His brow cocked as he handed her the bouquet. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“Sweetheart, save the I do’s for the ceremony.” Elvis nodded toward the front of the chapel. “Now if the groom will take his place at the altar, I’ll escort the bride down the aisle.”
Megan’s hand shook as she laid it on Elvis’s arm and waited for Daniel to take his position at the front of the chapel. When he turned to face her, the music started and Megan’s heart squeezed hard in her chest.
The receptionist handed Elvis a microphone and he sang “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”
Slowly, Megan and Elvis walked down the aisle in time to the music, the words bringing a lump into Megan’s throat and making her eyes sting. The closer she came to Daniel, the more she realized just how the words to the song fit the way she felt.
This half-Cherokee man who loved horses as much as she did and who didn’t quite fit in, just like her, was the only man she could imagine spending the rest of her life with. If this wasn’t love, she was even more on her way to falling in love with him.
As Elvis ended the song, he handed her off to Daniel and took his position in front of them.
“Megan, do you promise to love Daniel tender and love him true for all of your days?”
Megan gulped hard to clear the knot from her vocal chords and answered, “I do.”
“And, Daniel, do you promise to love Megan tender and love her true for all of your days?”
He held Megan’s hands in his and answered in his deep, resonant tone, “I do.”
“Do you have a ring?” Elvis asked.
Megan gasped. “I didn’t even think about rings.”
Daniel smiled and dug in his pocket, pulling out a beautiful ring with an emerald center stone surrounded by white diamonds. “I did. This was my grandmother’s wedding ring. It’s not much, but it meant a lot to her.”
He slid the ring onto her finger, echoing the words Elvis prompted him with. Megan wished she’d had something to give to him, but then, this wasn’t a real wedding and this wasn’t going to be a real marriage. But still...
“I’m sorry I didn’t have time to get it fitted,” he whispered. “We can do it when we get back to Tulsa.”
The ring fit a little loose, but Megan didn’t care. The ring had belonged to his grandmother and was something he obviously cared about.
“By the power vested in me by the state of Nevada and the Graceland Wedding Chapel, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Elvis sang “Love Me Tender.”
For a moment, Daniel hesitated. Megan held her breath. Then he bent, gathered her in his arms and kissed her.
The photographer’s flash blinked close by, but nothing penetrated their embrace until Elvis’s song ended and he cleared his throat.
“All you two need is the certificate and you can commence with the wedding night.” Elvis escorted them back to the receptionist’s desk, where they signed the marriage certificate and the photographer snapped more pictures. Then they were on their way with a marriage certificate and a DVD documenting their nuptials.
A white limousine stood at the curb, the driver holding the door for them.
Daniel handed Megan in, gave the address to the driver and slid in beside her with a huge sigh.
She shifted the bouquet to her other hand and touched Daniel’s shoulder. “Tired?”
“I don’t know what I feel. That was the most bizarre wedding ceremony I’ve ever seen.”
“I don’t know. I thought the Elvis impersonator did an excellent job with the accent and the songs.” She held up the DVD. “If I thought my parents would come unhinged by my marrying, wait until they see these wedding photos.”
Daniel took her hand in his. “I’m sorry. Your wedding should have been more...”
Megan raised her eyebrows. “Boring?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Classier.”
“Personally, I liked the Elvis touch. I promised myself I’d never marry a man who lacked a sense of humor.”
* * *
Daniel couldn’t resist Megan’s smile and grinned himself. “I almost laughed out loud when he first walked in the door.”
“And how perfect were the song choices for a wedding?” Megan giggled and hummed “Love Me Tender.”
The sparkle in her green eyes captured and held him as they drove between the brightly lit casinos.
“Do you want to go dancing?”
“You dance?”
Daniel frowned. “I’ve been known to two-step on occasion.”
“I’d love to dance. But not tonight. I’m pretty tired from all that’s happened in the past forty-eight hours.” She leaned against his arm. “You sure know how to show a girl a little excitement.”
When he helped her out of the limousine, she didn’t release his hand until he had to get the key card out of his pocket to open the door to their room.
When she started to walk through the doorway, he tugged her back. “We have to do things right, even if they are only temporary.” He swept her off her feet, crushing her against his chest. “Now, Mrs. Colton, welcome to the honeymoon suite.”
She draped an arm around his neck and stared around the room. “It looks different.” Then her eyes brightened and her smile grew wider. “Flowers and champagne? You shouldn’t have.” Her arm tightened and she kissed his cheek. “But I’m glad you did.”
“You deserve so much more. I hope that one day when you marry for real, your husband does it right.”
Her smile slipped and she sighed. “You’ve set the bar high, Daniel. I don’t know how any man can come close. Thank you for giving me an unforgettable wedding day.”
Daniel couldn’t think of a reason to hold her in his arms longer, so he lowered her feet to the ground and stepped away. Then he crossed to the table, where an ice bucket held a bottle of champagne. Two champagne flutes stood beside it.
He popped the cork and sparkling liquid spilled onto the table. Quickly filling the two flutes, he held one out to her. “To us.”
She shook her head and winked. “No. To wedded bliss, however long it might last.”
Daniel’s chest tightened as he stared across his glass at Megan. She made a beautiful bride with her cheeks flushed and her hair tumbling over her shoulders in long, loose curls. The dress hugged her figure like it was a part of her, swirling around her legs when she moved.
Daniel drank the liquid all in one gulp, wishing it were whiskey, something with a bit more of a kick to take the edge off his desire. But it might have had the opposite effect, lowering his inhibitions, making him forget his promise to keep this marriage a strictly business relationship.
At that moment, as Megan stood in her white dress with her back to the dark sky and bright lights of Vegas, there was nothing businesslike about the way Daniel felt.
“You can have the bedroom. I’ll take the sofa,” he said, his voice gruff.
Megan glanced at the sofa and shook her head. “That’s not even a real sofa. It’s more like a love seat.” She turned to him, settling her hands on her hips. “I’m smaller. You can have the bed. I’ll sleep out here.”
When he opened his mouth to protest, she raised her hand. “You’re doing me a great favor by marrying me. The least I can do is let you have a decent night’s sleep. You’ll need that to get through the interrogation my parents will put you through in a couple days.”
“I won’t make you sleep on the sofa.”
“Then are we both sleeping in the bed? Because you are not sleeping on that.” She pointed to the sofa. “Don’t even bother to argue.”
He shrugged. “Then I guess you can have the bathroom first.”
“Damn right I will.” Her lips quirked and her eyes flashed as she marched
past him into the bedroom with its adjoining bathroom.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he realized just how tired he was. But when Megan was in the room, his body seemed to go into hyperdrive, the adrenaline powering his blood, keeping him alert to her every move.
The woman was playful, resilient and amazing. Most women would never consider an Elvis wedding appropriate. Megan showed her ability to adapt and her sense of humor, smiling and humming to the music the impersonator sang.
Her parents had no idea what a treasure she was. They should have just let her live her own life. The more Daniel was around her, the more he suspected he was falling in love with her. But he couldn’t.
Megan came from money.
Daniel came from the res and a single-wide mobile home that had seen its better days two decades before he and his mother lived there.
He wasn’t really a part of the Colton family even though Big J had taken him in. He didn’t have the family tree his other siblings could claim, coming from both Big J and Abra Colton’s lineage.
Megan deserved a better man with a better family. A man who knew how to act in public and wouldn’t embarrass her or her parents.
His stomach knotted at the thought of meeting her parents for the first time and announcing they’d been married. He was without a single doubt that they’d be disappointed in Megan’s choice of a husband.
Daniel poured more champagne and drank it, the bubbly fizz not his drink of choice. He stood in the door frame of the bedroom, staring toward the bathroom.
“Daniel?” Megan chose that moment to crack the bathroom door and peek out, her hair falling forward over a very naked shoulder. “Could you hand me my bag?”
His heart stood still as he stared at her.
“Please?” she prompted, pushing him out of his stupor.
Daniel grabbed her bag from the floor and handed it to her. When her fingers touched his, jolts of fire rippled through his veins, sending heat throughout his body and south.
“I’m headed out for a few minutes,” Daniel muttered, backing away from her. “Don’t wait up for me.”
Her eyes widened. “Where are you going?”
“It’s Vegas. I thought I’d get in some gambling.”
“Oh.” The disappointment on her face almost made him change his mind. He couldn’t. If he stayed in the suite with Megan, he’d forgo his promise, pull her into his arms and make love to her the rest of the night and well into the next day.
“I’ll have my cell phone if you need me.” Daniel left the room and hurried down the hallway to the elevator. If he had to stay up all night gambling, so be it. He couldn’t go back to the room when he wanted to kiss his new wife and make mad, passionate love to her.
Chapter 8
Megan left the bathroom wearing a pale blue baby-doll nightgown. A lot of good it would do her. Daniel had run out of the room so fast, he left skid marks on the carpet.
He definitely wasn’t interested in her or in making their marriage real.
Megan wandered around the bedroom, her hand skimming across the comforter, wondering what it would be like to lie naked beside Daniel in the king-size bed. She ached so badly inside that she wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off him for long. Maybe that’s why he’d agreed to sleep in the bedroom, where he could close and lock the door to keep her out.
Megan found a blanket in the closet and took one of the pillows off the bed. At least she could get a good night’s sleep, even if Daniel didn’t. She spread the blanket, plumped the already fluffed pillow and lay down, bending her legs to get all of her on the sofa. The settee was much too small for either her or Daniel.
She lay for a long time staring up at the high ceilings and out at the Las Vegas night sky.
Where was Daniel? Megan checked her cell phone just in case she’d accidently turned it off or set it on silent. No calls, texts or voice mails. An hour passed and she couldn’t sleep, not knowing when he’d come back.
Pushing to her feet, Megan returned to the bedroom and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind her. All the effort she’d put into looking good in her nightgown had been wasted. She pulled her hair back into a high ponytail to get it out of her face.
A noise in the other room made her catch her breath. Had he come back? Would he want to kiss her? Please let him want to take me in his arms and make love to me. “Daniel? Are you back?” She flung open the door and scanned the bedroom and the room beyond.
Megan stood perfectly still in the doorway, her heart beating hard against her ribs. “Daniel?”
Again, no answer.
Her pulse picked up, thrumming through her veins—not in anticipatory excitement but because of the creepy feeling she had someone other than Daniel was in the living room.
Megan stepped backward, closed the bathroom door and quietly turned the lock. If Daniel spoke up and let her know he was in the room, she’d unlock it quickly. But Daniel hadn’t responded, and there was definitely someone out there.
The plush carpeted floor muffled even the heaviest footfalls.
She’d carried her cell phone through the suite and into the bathroom earlier, hoping Daniel would call. If she had to, she could call 9-1-1. With someone already in her room, would anyone arrive in time to save her?
When the doorknob turned, Megan nearly fainted. Whoever was out there wanted in. Megan curled her hand around the knob and held it, keeping it from turning, just in case the lock didn’t keep the intruder out.
The knob stilled.
Megan backed away from the door, dove for the cell phone on the counter and hit Daniel’s number. It rang four times while Megan held her breath, praying he would pick up before whoever had come into their suite got creative and jimmied the lock.
At last Daniel answered, “Megan. Are you okay?”
She pressed the phone to her ear and whispered into the receiver. “There’s someone in our room.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m locked in the bathroom and there is someone in the room.”
“I’m on my way. Stay on the phone with me.”
“I will.” She clutched the phone like a lifeline, listening to Daniel’s reassuring voice, while her other ear strained to hear movement beyond the door. “You didn’t order room service, did you?”
“No.”
She bit down on her lip to keep it from trembling. “Me, either.”
She stood in the middle of the bathroom, staring in horror at the door, her thoughts running the gamut of self-defense classes she’d taken as the child of a wealthy family. All her life she’d been taught not to trust anyone and beware of strangers who could commit random acts of violence or people who might want to kidnap her. Now all those lessons flew out the window with her nerves.
The knob twisted again.
This time Megan wasn’t near. It wiggled as if someone was jimmying the lock. She stared at the door, willing it to hold back whoever was on the other side. “He’s turning the knob,” Megan said, her voice shaking.
“Yell out loud that you’re calling 9-1-1,” Daniel said. “I’m in the elevator now.”
Megan held the phone away from her mouth and yelled, “I’m calling 9-1-1!”
The knob stilled.
“Help, someone is breaking into my room,” Megan said loudly and clearly enough that whoever was on the other side of the door would hear and leave. She recited the details of her hotel and room number to make it sound official.
“Good,” Daniel reassured her. “Is there anything in the bathroom you could use as a weapon?”
Her heart hammering, Megan glanced around at the towels, tiny plastic bottles of shampoo and a small bar of soap. All of her toiletries were in the other room. “Not really.” She grabbed a towel from the rail and held it in front of her, ready to throw it in
the intruder’s face if he should break through the door.
“I’m almost to our floor.”
“Good,” she said. Something hit the door hard. Megan yelped.
“What happened?”
“He’s trying to break down the door.” She yelled more loudly, “Hotel security is on its way up, and the police are less than two minutes away!”
Another loud thump and the door rattled on its hinges, but held.
Megan’s instinct was to get as far away from the door as possible, but she figured if he burst through, his momentum would throw him into the bathroom. She could toss the towel over his head and duck past him while he untangled himself from the terry cloth.
Sure. And pigs could fly.
Into the phone she whispered, “I’m putting you on speaker and setting the phone on the counter in case I have to run.”
“Okay,” Daniel said. “I’m just one floor short. Hang in there. I’m almost there.”
She held her breath and braced herself for the next blow to the door.
A moment or two passed and nothing. She strained to hear any movement on the other side of the panel. Her heart stood still as she waited, holding the huge luxury towel in front of her, spread like a fisherman’s net.
Something slammed against the bathroom door so hard, the door frame splintered. Another slam and the door crashed open. A man in dark clothes and a ski mask fell into the room.
Megan tossed the towel in the man’s face and ducked past him.
She had almost cleared the door when a hand reached out and snagged her arm, jerking her back. Megan twisted, employing one of the escape techniques she’d learned long ago. She freed her arm and ran through the bedroom, into the sitting area and straight for the exit, footsteps pounding behind her.
A sob rising up in her throat, she reached for the door and yanked it open. Before she could run through, a hand hit her hard in the back, slamming her onto the floor. She landed on her hands and knees and rolled to the side, away from her attacker. At that exact moment, the elevator dinged, indicating the arrival of the car.
