Take Me - A Bad Boy Steals a Bride Romance

by Layla Valentine

  As unconsciousness finally found her, Jada’s mind filled with strange dreams: terrifying hospital encounters, homeless nights spent painting for money, and intensely erotic dreams involving Jackson. Of the three, she really could of have done without the shirtless images of her employer, but they wouldn’t let up.

  In her head, the warmth of Jackson’s arms found her again, and his uncompleted kiss was finally placed on her lips. The taste and smell of him was a drug pushing her deeper and deeper into bliss. He kissed her while he walked her to his desk and shoved its contents aside. His hands roamed her flesh, and his strong fingers ripped her flimsy button-down in two. Then, he explored her with his mouth, and she was left gasping and squirming on the hard wood. In a dream blur of clothing, the two of them were naked before each other, and the Adonic form of her boss pressed into her over and over. The fuzzy details were a mess, but her brain made it plain that she was having the best sex of her life.

  It wasn’t the last dream in the lineup her brain had arranged. The entire night was plagued with hot, endless images of their two forms entwining, releasing, and crashing back together again. When the morning announced its presence via the loud alarm on her cell, Jada woke feeling both frustrated and angry. She was sure Jackson had been about to kiss her, and what was worse, she knew now that she had wanted him to. The words “business arrangement” surfaced in her mind, and Jada mentally kicked herself.

  It was all insanity from start to finish. The fact that she’d agreed to this ridiculous sham wedding, the outings where she’d desperately tried to get to know her boss and change his selfish ways, all the way down to the stupid crush she had developed. Because that was all that it was: a crush.

  Shaking off the storm, Jada got out of bed and dressed for the day. As she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she thought to herself, Just two days till the ceremony. Just get through these two days, make it through the wedding, and you’re done. You can do this. You have to.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next two days went by in a blur of paperwork, meetings, free lunches, and sleepless nights. But now the morning of the ceremony was here. Jada was still confused and put off by Jackson’s strange behavior. She never did let go of a grudge easily—a bad habit her mother loved to point out any chance she could. What was even stranger, however, was that at some point Jada had apparently retrieved the sketch from her desk and taken it home.

  The image of her boss was now propped up against the wall on her nightstand. It stared at her as she slept, changed, and woke in the morning. Why had she put it there? Jada had no clue. At least none that she wanted to explore further. In her mind, though, the image was a living, breathing man who acted like he had the other day and enjoyed his free time spent with her, with only her.

  It was definitely a problem.

  Back at home, relaxing in bed with blue eyes staring at her, Jada’s mind was a swimming pool of conflicting thoughts, emotions, and unacknowledged feelings. Evelyn had called the night before to let her know a limo would be waiting for her outside her apartment the next morning. Her usual tone of disgust had colored her voice even over the phone.

  Sleep had not come that night, and instead Jada lay in her bed staring at the ceiling, taking momentary breaks to stare at the sketch that haunted her bedside. The logical half of her was furious, kicking the inside of Jada’s skull in an attempt to knock some sense into her. Unfortunately, the less rational side of her was thinking of Jackson’s—or Edmund’s—words, and the way his lips had looked when they’d been so close to her face. The heat of his body, the strength of his arms, the changes she’d seen in him, and the way he’d opened up—it was all a choking mess surrounding her body.

  As morning broke and Jada dressed, the black car Evelyn had informed her about, and its French driver, arrived outside. Jada’s heart thundered, and she couldn’t tell if it was from excitement, frustration, or an imminent heart attack.

  Jada had been instructed to bring a small bag of clothes and necessities—which seemed strange considering there wasn’t going to be a honeymoon—and all her important identification information for the wedding license. The bag was easy enough to put together, but Jada really had to search for her passport, birth certificate, and proof of residence.

  The last time she’d used her passport, it had been for a girls’ weekend in Mexico with a bunch of women from the office. That trip had served to instill in her the knowledge that tequila was an evil, evil drug. God, there’d even been pictures, and her team hadn’t let her live it down for months.

  Overall, the papers and clothing all seemed like overkill, and Jada was getting more frustrated with each passing minute that she wasn’t given more information. Where was the ceremony set to take place? Why did she need these things? What was her boss up to? He hadn’t called or emailed, and, honestly, Jada was beginning to panic.

  Once she had gathered everything up, Jada stepped outside and locked her apartment door. The clack of the deadbolt securing was loud in her ears, and her fingers shook slightly. Suppressing a wave of nausea, Jada tucked her keys in her purse and put on the best game face she could manage.

  Jacques, sweet chauffeur extraordinaire, walked to her door and took her bags from her without a moment’s hesitation. His sure fingers wrapped around the handle and swept up the luggage in a bit of a flourish. He was either showing off or excited to be needed for an entire day. Poor guy needed to learn the joys of a day off spent with nothing but Netflix, sweats, and processed food.

  “I can carry that,” Jada said.

  “Nonsense. Mr. Hays is waiting in the car.” Jacques gave a little smile and walked to the car with a slight spring in his step.

  Jada shook her head and walked over to the giant automobile. She opened the door for herself—thankfully Jacques had allowed her that—and scooted inside. Jackson was sitting at the front of the limo, a stack of papers exposed inside his briefcase.

  The suit he wore had clearly been made for him, and Jada wondered if that was what he was wearing to the wedding. It would certainly work, but with the dress she had picked out, she had been sure he was going to rock a tux. His hair and face were ready for the event, however. He’d had a fresh haircut, and the bit that hung in his face now did so much more artfully than it had when it’d been getting a bit shaggy. Jada decided then that she liked the shaggy look.

  He'd shaved, too. His clear skin made the stern lines of his chin and jaw stand out even more. He looked a bit menacing, to be frank, and again Jada found herself missing the less formal look he’d been sporting a few days before.

  “How are you this morning?” It was such a formal, unwelcoming greeting that Jada assumed he was deliberately trying to keep things more business-like than they had been.

  Well, two can play that game, buddy, she thought.

  “Fine.”

  Her tone was equally cold and uninterested. Jackson was about to learn that Jada played rough and took no prisoners.

  “Where are we going? I’ve yet to be informed as to the location of the meeting.” Jada crossed her arms over her chest. Jacques had started the car and was leaving her apartment’s lot.

  “First to the airport, and then to the Qaresman capital.”

  “What?!” Jada’s stomach fell through the bottom of the car and the rear tire ran right over it.

  She couldn’t possibly have heard that right. They were leaving the country—going to her mother’s country—without any type of notice or opinion from her.

  “In order to fast-track the business license, the wedding must take place on Qaresman soil,” he said coolly. He closed his briefcase and reached for a bottle of water off to the side. The car had been stocked with water, sparkling and still, champagne, some type of liquor in a crystal decanter, and a bunch of other provisions stuffed into ice. Jada wanted to scream.

  “You son of a bitch. You drag me into the deal because of some stupid coincidence and completely steamroll my life. Now you’re telling me that we’re
going to my mother’s country, which I’ve never been to, and we’ll obviously be gone for a while. What am I supposed to tell Matheson? What am I supposed to tell my team?! I can’t just pick up and leave! God, you never think about anyone but yourself, do you?! If it weren’t for my father—” Jada cut herself off before she revealed yet another weakness to the man across from her.

  “I’ve already emailed your coworkers for you. You’re away visiting your parents in Arizona and may be gone for a few days. And what about your father?”

  “Just forget it.” A flaming pit was forming inside Jada’s belly, and she was sure that if it was stoked much more by the arrogant asshole sitting across from her, she’d not only set the car on fire but the whole damn world as well.

  The car went silent, but the tension in the air made it hum with hostility. It remained that way for the duration of their drive to the airport. Of course, Jackson had his own private jet and takeoff spot set aside from the crowd.

  When they got out, Jacques retrieved their bags and they were quickly scanned by the special staff surrounding Jackson’s private jet. The entire time, Jada felt like another piece of Jackson’s luggage. They didn’t speak and barely looked at each other.

  She was traveling to her mother’s country without her mother, without her family. She was going to see the land whose culture she had been raised to respect and celebrate, and she was going with some douche who just wanted to make a few billions more.

  Finally on the plane, Jada took a spot at the rear of the fabulous jet, and Jackson parked his good-for-nothing ass in a seat at the front. The captain chimed in over the speaker system and, forgoing the traditional security talk, told them that the flight would last some 15 hours and the local weather in Qaresma was in the high seventies. There was not a bit of excitement anywhere in Jada’s body, and it felt wrong. She was visiting the country of her mother’s people, going to the capital in fact, and she was dreading every minute of it.

  Plus, she’d never been a stellar flyer, and this was such a small plane. Thankfully, the takeoff was relatively smooth, and they were up in the air in about ten minutes. Jada pulled up the shade on her window and looked out at the white clouds dusting the sky. It was quiet except for the buzz of the engines, and staring at the fluffy masses in the blue sky was almost peaceful. The world below her looked small and insignificant, and Jada silently remarked on how similar she felt.

  Fifteen hours was a lot of time to kill, and Jada tried to read for a bit, but her mind was too busy with thoughts of wedding details and infuriating CEOs. The seat she was in leaned back all the way until it was flat, and Jada used the opportunity to sleep. She hadn’t done much of it that night, so this seemed as good an opportunity as any to catch up.

  It apparently worked, because the next thing she knew, Jada was waking up to the captain announcing that they had arrived. As she stretched, Jada looked out the window of the jet. They were near the water, and she nearly cried out as she took in the beauty of the azure sea and its pristine beach. Despite her anger, Jada marveled at the shimmering waves caressing the shore.

  Her mother had described this land so many times, and it was impossible to believe she was actually there. Jada’s heart broke a little further at the thought, and the image of her mom’s slender form clutching her dad’s hand was the only thing that kept Jada true to her agreement with the head of JPH Tech.

  The time to get off had come, though, and Jada stood from her chair and followed her jackass boss out onto the tarmac. There was another limo waiting for them, and a Middle-Eastern version of Jacques waited to take their bags. The light outside the plane was almost blinding, and Jada was so jet-lagged, she let the driver open the door for her without argument. She slid inside the comforting darkness of the limo and secluded herself in the front half. Jackson climbed in after and sat at the rear.

  Thanks to hours of breathing recycled air, Jada was feeling stuffed up and claustrophobic. She slid over to the window and rolled down the tinted glass. The light was a bit difficult to get used to, but the fresh air was amazing. As they drove, Jada wondered at the beautiful, historic buildings they passed. The town became more modern as they drove further in, and Jackson had taken up talking on the phone.

  From what she could hear, Jada’s boss was confirming the delivery of the flowers, cake, and dress to the venue. She couldn’t have cared less about them now, but she liked the idea of again wearing the dress she had picked out. It looked damn good on her, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to enjoy looking like a movie star for five minutes.

  Jada let her head fall back on the seat’s headrest as the limo carried them deep into the heart of the city. When it finally arrived at its destination, Jada was horrified to see they had pulled up to an ugly gray administrative building. It could have been any American city hall, and Jada bit her lip to avoid screaming her distaste. Why on earth had Jackson felt the need to take her on all those stupid outings if this is what he had planned? Why did a cake or flowers or a dress even matter?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jada and Jackson were led out of the car and to the building, where they were pointed in the direction of their separate dressing rooms. Inside Jada’s room her dress was hanging up on the bathroom door, the bouquet of irises set in a glass of water on a small table, and the shoes she’d picked out placed under the dress. In that moment, staring around the ugly gray room inside the ugly gray building, Jada’s anger turned to sadness. She’d dreamed of this day, her wedding day, and this was it?

  Wasn’t a bride supposed to be thrilled? Wasn’t the site of the ceremony supposed to fill her with joy? Wasn’t she supposed to like the guy she was marrying? Sure, he’d had that one moment, but apparently that had been a fluke. This Jackson who was with her today was a tool and a half.

  Jada solemnly reminded herself of her father’s situation as she set her bag down on a chair. She couldn’t lose him, and at the end of this day, she’d be given the chance to save his life, to do something with hers, and she’d never have to talk to old Jack-ass again. Her lawyer could handle the eventual divorce, and with that thought in mind, Jada began to get changed.

  She pulled out the tiny underwear she needed and stripped out of her travel clothes. The air was cool, the silk of her wedding dress even cooler. Jada shivered in place, and gooseflesh rippled across her tan skin. She rubbed her hands on her arms and then stared at her left hand. She had no engagement ring, and there would never be one. She wondered if there’d even be a wedding band. Probably not, she thought, since this isn’t really happening.

  Once the dress was in place, Jada slipped on her shoes and walked to the bathroom to arrange her hair. The room was dingy and the mirror was cloudy with age. She could barely see herself in the yellowing glass. Jada tried to wipe it off with a dry towel; it helped a bit, but there was no changing the reality of the mirror.

  With her workstation limited, Jada did the best she could with her hair. She’d decided on half up, half down, as her curls wouldn’t be tamed thanks to the humidity in the air. Having applied simple makeup, she took the bouquet from the glass of water. The stems dripped in her hand, and she dabbed at the ends with the small towel from the bathroom.

  Satisfied that the flowers wouldn’t keep dripping, Jada patted down her dress, performed a few quick adjustments to her hair and face, and then looked herself over. If it weren’t for the look on her face, she’d have looked amazing. The dress was perfect, fitted to her exact measurements, and the simple hairstyle and makeup complimented the sleek shape of the gown. Her tan skin contrasted with the ivory fabric, and the unruly curls around her face lent an air of sweetness. Too bad she was miserable.

  The building was quiet, and as Jada stepped out into the hall, a man in a simple suit directed her where to go. She followed him, her long ivory gown gliding behind her, her heels clicking loudly on the stone floor. They finally reached one of the main rooms, where Jackson stood waiting next to a judge at the head of the space.


  He had changed as well, and even through her fury, Jada couldn’t help but be impressed. He was indeed wearing a tuxedo, and the man cleaned up nicely. The tux was simple, a match to her style of gown, and the white tie against his white shirt looked clean and precise. Sunlight shone in through a window to the right and it lit up his face, making his blue eyes shine. It was just like her sketch.

  Jada walked with slow, deliberate steps toward Jackson and the officiant. When she reached them, there was no crowd to sit down to mark her arrival. She and Jackson turned and focused on what she assumed was a judge. His words were direct and plain as he read from his book in a monotone. He had no idea who they were, and yet he was marrying them.

  Jada tried to focus on the officiant’s words. He stated that he was there to conduct a marriage for which the license would be signed after their vows. Jada hadn’t even thought about vows. As a young girl, she’d written vows as she believed they should be. She’d been about thirteen, and they were mostly about how the man would always be there for her and always encourage her to go after her dreams—repeats of the words her father so often spoke to her. She’d even kept them. Jada had planned on reading them when she got married.

  The judge didn’t know that. Jackson didn’t know that.

  She’d never be able to come up with something to say, but it didn’t matter since the judge spoke generic vows that they were each to repeat line for line. Jackson went first and went quickly.

  As her turn came, Jada looked down at the bundle of irises in her hands. They were lovely, so purple and fresh. The smell was strong too, wafting up to her nose and filling her senses with images of spring and sunny meadows. The repeated words left her mouth without much thought.

  “In sickness and in health.”

  Her dress somehow managed to shine in the fluorescent light of the administrative building. The silk shimmered like it had been spun by the hands of fairies who dreamed of dressing a woman on her most important day.