When we hit the corner, Hunter pulled me down the side street, never breaking his pace. I could feel my strength waning. I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to keep this pace. My lungs felt like they were on fire. “Hunter, I’ve got to catch my breath,” I pleaded.
He paused for a second to glance around. “This way. I have an idea.”
I numbly followed, concentrating only on staying next to him. He dragged me through a glass door into a very gaudily decorated foyer, which boasted several giant white, feathery plumes beside crazy-looking costumes of every kind imaginable. Music drifted from a small dimly lit chapel with a few rows of small white pews, and I suddenly realized it was one of those quaint wedding chapels Las Vegas was so famous for.
“Can I help you?” a smiling lady in a white business suit asked from behind a glass counter. She was wearing a tag proclaiming her name, Marie Sanchez.
“Yes,” Hunter gasped, flashing his amazing smile. “We want to get married.”
She gave us a curious look, obviously wondering why we were panting. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “I’ve been trying to get her to say yes for ages. She finally did. We ran all the way here. I’m not taking any chances on her changing her mind.”
I offered the woman a smile, it was the best I could do at the moment.
She clasped her hands in front of her. “Well, you came to the right place. We offer several packages you can choose from. I’ll grab the catalog—”
“We want that one,” Hunter said, pointing to a photo of a man and woman dressed like Elvis and Priscilla Presley. It was awful. He grabbed me around the shoulder and yanked me up against him. “We want it all—wigs, clothes, everything. Give us the works. We’ve always been huge fans of the King, haven’t we, baby?”
I tried to keep my false grin plastered to my face. “Yep,” I panted out the lie.
“All right then. Follow me to the dressing rooms.” She led us around the corner and down a small hallway. “Here’s the bride’s room, and this one right here is for the groom. I’ll bring your wedding attire to you.”
“Sounds perfect,” Hunter replied, leaning to kiss my forehead.
“I’ll need your names and to see your identification. Also, if I could get a credit card from you, so I can print the paper work, that would be great.”
“Dylan Wilcock and Camilla Wimberley,” Hunter supplied, reaching into his pocket for his wallet as I reached into my small purse for my driver’s license. Hunter pulled out several cards, sorting through them before he found what he was looking for and handed them to her. I gave her mine as well. “We’d like to purchase the costumes also, instead of renting them, if that’s an option—so we can remember this day.”
“Of course it’s possible!” she replied, sounding very happy at the news. “I’ll be right back with them. I think I can appropriately guess your sizes.” She hurried off down the hall.
“Now what do we do?” I asked.
“We are going to get into these costumes. No one will look for us as Elvis and Priscilla and people won’t blink twice at seeing someone dressed like them here. After we’re dressed, I’ll pay for the costumes, and we’ll tell her we changed our mind. Then we’ll take a taxi to another hotel and check in under my real name and let Chris know what’s going on.”
“Sounds good.” I was glad he had some sort of plan. I was exhausted.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked, running his hands over my shoulders as he stared at me with concern.
“I’ll be fine. I’m just happy we got out of there. I take back every bad thought I ever had about Roberta. She really came through for us.”
Hunter nodded. “She did.”
“Here you go,” Marie said, reappearing with two garment bags draped across her arm. “This one’s for you dear,” she handed the top one to me, “and this one is yours. I’ll be right outside the doors here, filling out the paperwork if either of you need any help.”
“Thank you,” I said politely, glancing one more time at Hunter before I stepped into the small dressing room. I pulled the white dress out of the bag. It had a high neck and lace-covered sleeves. The rest of the dress fell in loose folds to the floor and had a massive train. It was quite simple—the high waist giving it a maternal appearance—almost like something a bride would wear to cover a pregnancy.
The veil had a crown and boasted yards of voluminous tulle, and there was a black wig in the package too. I sighed heavily. This was definitely not my idea of proper wedding attire, but it should suit our purpose as a disguise. Hunter was right—no one would think twice about seeing someone imitating Elvis and Priscilla Presley in Las Vegas.
Dressing quickly, I threw my belongings into the provided plastic bag, eager to get out of here and to a safer place. Chris would be able to send the help we needed, but I was afraid to trust anyone else at this point. It was a totally helpless feeling.
Surveying myself in the large mirror, I dug into my purse for my eyeliner and applied it liberally to get into character. It was more than I’d ever worn in my life, but it would definitely complete the Priscilla look I’d seen in pictures and hopefully hide my true identity even more. Sighing heavily, I grabbed my things and made my way out of the room.
Marie was waiting for me there, smiling. “Here’s your ID, dear. Mr. Wilcock is waiting for you in the chapel.”
I slid it into my purse. “Thank you,” I said.
“And I need you to sign this piece of paper.”
“Okay.” I quickly did as she asked before following her to the chapel.
Hunter was standing there in a black brocade dinner suit and wig that matched Elvis’s famous hairdo. I had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t laugh.
He didn’t look amused, though. “Come here,” he ordered abruptly with a serious look. He held his hand out to me and pulled me close. “There are men outside the building looking for us,” he whispered into my ear. “Just follow my lead.”
Fear shot through me as I nodded. Hunter led me to the altar where a man in a suit was waiting. He smiled happily at us, and I gave him a faltering smile in return. It was then I noticed the Elvis song, Love Me Tender, playing softly in the background. Another man I hadn’t noticed before stepped up to the side of us and began capturing pictures with his camera.
“Welcome, friends,” the minister began. “We’re so happy to have you with us tonight. Would you like the long ceremony or the short one?”
I heard the bell on the door jingle softly from the other room.
“The short one, please. We’re anxious to have this done.” Hunter leaned down and placed a kiss on my cheek. “Don’t turn around,” he warned quietly.
“Are you here for the Wilcock wedding?” I heard Marie ask whoever had entered.
“We are gathered here this evening to unite the two of you in love, which is the greatest of all things. So let us proceed. Dylan Wilcock, do you take Camilla Noelle as your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do,” Hunter replied. My hands were trembling as my ears strained to catch more of the conversation behind us.
“No, I’m actually looking for a girl and someone by the name of Wilder who ran off together. We’re trying to stop the wedding,” an unfamiliar male voice spoke. “Do you have any other couples here?”
My heart was pounding so loud I was sure the man could hear it.
“Camilla?” the minister’s voice interrupted me, the camera still flashing in my face.
“What?” I asked, confused. He raised his eyebrows and looked toward Hunter in question. “Oh, I mean, yeah. I do. Sorry, I’m a little nervous.”
“No, I’m afraid not,” Marie responded. “This is the only couple here.”
The minister shot an anxious glance down the aisle behind us, and I was sure he was worried about us being angry over the loud talking behind us.
Hunter cleared his throat calling the minister back to attention.
He sputtered and smiled as he quickly searched for
his place. “Then by the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”
Hunter grabbed me, his lips crushing mine. “Just keep kissing me,” he whispered as the photographer continued clicking away.
I did as he asked, shaking, hoping the monstrous veil was hiding us enough from whoever was observing. I heard the door chime again, and I hoped it was the man leaving the building.
“Congratulations!” Marie said from behind us.
We gingerly turned, scanning the room. It was empty. I couldn’t help my sigh of relief.
“The limo you asked for, Mr. Wilcock, is at the curb waiting to take you to your hotel. Why don’t you come here and get a few more pictures under the arch.”
We did as she asked, both of us pausing to give nervous glances toward the door. The photographer snapped a few more photos.
“We’ll send the proofs to the email address you gave me, Mr. Wilcock. Congratulations again!” She handed him a large white envelope and the bags with our belongings. “Here’s your receipts and certificate. Thank for your business.”
“Thank you,” Hunter smiled and shook their hands before turning and kissing me again. “Keep your head down when we go outside, like you’re watching where you’re stepping.”
I nodded and followed him. Maria helped our escape by throwing rice at us as we ran across the sidewalk, giving us a plausible excuse to duck. I slid into the open door the driver was holding, and Hunter slid in beside me.”
“We did it,” I said.
“Don’t count your blessings yet,” Hunter said warily. “We need to make sure no one follows us.”
I sighed heavily, leaning my head back against the seat. “Will this thing ever be over?”
“Soon, Goody. Real soon. Hang in there.”
“Where to, Mr. Wilcock?” the driver asked as he slid into the front of the vehicle.
“Well,” Hunter replied with a sigh. “This was kind of a spur of the moment decision, so I don’t actually have a reservation anywhere. How about one of the nice resorts—somewhere else, though? We’d like a place a bit more peaceful than the strip.”
“I’d recommend Green Valley Ranch Resort and Spa,” the driver said. “It’s out of the way, but still close enough to the attractions you might want to see.”
“That sounds perfect,” Hunter agreed. “Let’s see if we can get a room there.”
“Would you like me to call ahead and find out for you, sir?”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
The privacy window closed, and Hunter turned to look out the darkened glass as we pulled away from the curb. I did the same, and we watched the traffic patterns of all the vehicles around us. It didn’t appear anyone was following us.
We arrived at the prettily lit resort, the glow highlighting its very beautiful Mediterranean style structure and sculpted grounds. The driver opened the door for us. “They’re waiting for you inside. There are rooms available as well as a special honeymoon package.”
“Thanks so much for your help. How much do I owe you?”
The man quoted his price, and I noticed Hunter tipped him generously too as he handed him the cash.
“Have a wonderful evening,” he spoke again.
Hunter ushered me quickly into the fancy building. We were safe—for the moment.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cami-
Hunter tossed the pre-paid phone down on the nightstand next to the king bed in our room. The only light on was a dim lamp, which cast his face in shadow as he ran a hand through his hair.
I was still wearing the wedding dress, but I’d pulled off my wig and veil. Tossing them next to Hunter’s Elvis wig and our honeymoon goody basket in the chair, I sat on the edge of the bed. Hunter sank down beside me and loosened his tie, pulling it off and opening the top button of his collar.
“So what’s the verdict?” I asked, concerned.
“Chris says to lay low where we are. He isn’t going to share our location with anybody, just to be safe. The department there is going to try and get in touch with the Vegas PD superiors and let them know the case has been compromised due to a leak in their staff.”
“Ripper and his gang are going to be long gone.”
Hunter nodded and sighed. “You’re most likely correct.”
“Maybe we should catch a flight and go home.”
“Chris is afraid they might be watching the airport for us. He said to hang tight. He’ll be here to get us in the morning.”
I could tell he felt defeated. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what? You aren’t responsible for any of this. Who knows—you may have even saved my life tonight.”
“How so?”
“If I’d gone with them, I would’ve been there when they found out who I was. The chance of escaping would have been practically none.”
The mere thought of him coming to harm made me feel nauseated. “I’m glad you were with me.”
“Me too.” He lifted his hand and stroked my chin. “I love you,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry about this evening. That definitely wasn’t the way I imagined us getting married.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry about it. People will get a big laugh out of our sham wedding story someday.”
Surprise flickered in his eyes. “Cami, you do realize we actually got married—for real.”
“Wha—what?” I stammered. “No.”
He gave a wry laugh. “Yes, we did. I gave them my real name to protect us from anyone looking for someone with my alias. We signed the license—there were witnesses. We just got married.”
I closed my eyes, my mind frantically replaying everything that had happened this evening. I’d been so absorbed in the guy at the door, that I’d missed my own wedding. “Please tell me we didn’t tie the knot dressed in Elvis and Priscilla costumes.” I was mortified. I stared up at him, searching for another answer in his eyes, but there wasn’t one.
He took my face in his hands. “Listen, you were clearly married under duress. Vegas weddings happen all the time—and so do Vegas annulments and divorces. We can easily end this.”
My lips trembled and unshed tears suddenly blurred my vision. “Is that what you want to do?”
He studied my features carefully. “Goody, I was going to officially ask you to marry me after this assignment was done. You know how much I want to be with you. It’s all I want.”
I swallowed thickly, my heart full of love for him. “Then I don’t want an annulment. This may not have been our ideal wedding, but we can have another one with our family.”
“Are you sure?” His thumbs stroked my cheeks.
I nodded. “I’m sure. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mrs. Wilcock.”
He smiled softly, leaning forward until his lips gently touched mine, and I closed my eyes as the realization rushed through me. Hunter . . . Dylan, was really my husband! He was mine, and he wanted it to stay that way! Joy rushed through me. He pulled me closer, lifting me so I was on his lap, and I slid my arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.
His tongue slipped into my mouth, tangling with mine, and I pressed harder against him. A small moan of pleasure escaped his mouth, and I loved knowing I was the one responsible for it.
“Stand up,” he ordered gently, and I did as he requested. He turned me so I was facing away from him, looking at both of us in the large wall mirror. He gently lifted my hair, draping it over my shoulder, before skimming his fingers across my skin. He stared at me through the glass, his eyes locking with mine. “So beautiful, my wife.”
Goose bumps flared at his words. I couldn’t help the smile that crept onto my face. “Say it again,” I responded.
He leaned closer, his mouth very close to my ear as his hands slid down my arms. “My wife,” he whispered again, his fingertips gripping me as he emphasized the words. His lips touched my neck as he placed a tender kiss there before replacing it with his tongue, trail
ing it lightly on the surface. Watching his actions in the mirror was like seeing a long-wished-for dream coming true before my eyes.
His hands released me, and there was a tug on the zipper of my dress a moment before the air brushed against my skin. He straightened, removing his jacket and tossing it toward the chair, then started on the buttons of his shirt.
Suddenly I was very nervous. “Wait,” I interrupted, turning and placing my hand on his to stop him.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, immediately looking concerned. “If you’re not ready still, I’ll wait. It’ll be hard, but I’ll do it.”
I smiled, butterflies whipping about madly in my stomach. “Thank you for being concerned about me. I’m well . . . a little . . . unprepared for this.”
I could see the disappointment in his eyes. “That’s totally understandable. We can wait.” He didn’t understand my meaning.
“You’re so sweet, but you don’t understand. I want to. I’m just nervous.”
I reached for the top button of his shirt and began unfastening, my hands shaking so badly I felt like a bumbling idiot. His stare never left me, heating my skin. There was nothing to stop us this time—it was really going to happen. Hunter had wanted it to be something special between us. How could we get more special than our honeymoon?
One button open—I moved onto the next one, but Hunter reached up and grabbed my hands.
“You’re shaking.” He lifted them to his mouth and kissed the back of each one. “You don’t need to be afraid. I promise I’ll be as gentle as possible.”
I blushed, unable to help it. It was so strange to be openly talking about this. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m excited.”
He grinned and cocked an eyebrow at me. “Excited is good.”
“Yes, it is,” I replied, turning my hands so I could kiss his in the same fashion before I gingerly continued my previous task—even undoing the buttons at his wrists. When I was finished, I pushed the shirt from his shoulders, and he let it slide the rest of the way down his arms until it fell to the floor. His eyes never left me, watching as I placed my palms flat against his chest and trailed my fingers down the ridges of his stomach. His abs tightened even more, and I heard his breath catch.
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