HOT SEAL Bride

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HOT SEAL Bride Page 11

by Lynn Raye Harris


  Ella kept her chin high, but she trembled deep inside. She could feel Cash stiffen. And then he stopped, anchoring her against his side as he faced the reporters.

  “My wife isn’t answering any more questions about our marriage. If you need to know something, you can ask me. We’re married, we’re in love, and her family will just have to get used to it. End of story.”

  He steered her toward the doors as the reporters clamored behind them. They were inside within seconds, the seething mass of questions left behind. When Ella glanced over her shoulder, she saw Gina vamping it up for the photographers. The reporters turned to questioning her while Jack stood there with a hard look on his face.

  “How does she do it?” Ella asked.

  Cash looked back. “Practice, I guess. She’s been a star for a long time.”

  “I am not a star. I’m someone with a title that means nothing here—and nothing in Capriolo anymore either—and yet they hound me anyway.”

  Cash looked intense, as if he would say more than he finally did. “It’s interesting to them. To America. You’re a princess who eloped with a commoner. That’s how they’ll sell it and what their readers will lap up. You may not command attention like Kate Middleton, but you’re probably a close second at the moment.”

  “But nobody knew who I was until today.”

  “Until you ran away from home and made it your uncle’s business to try to get you back by any means necessary?”

  Ella nibbled her lip. “Yes, that is true.” Another thought hit her then. “Will it ever stop? Will they let us go about our lives?”

  “I’m not sure. I hope so.” He didn’t look convinced though.

  For the first time, she began to consider that this marriage could last longer than either of them had thought it might. Not that the idea of being with Cash bothered her—but she was pretty sure it bothered him. He played the happy husband better than she could have hoped for, but only she could feel the tightening of his fingers against her during the prolonged evening. Only she could see the lines of strain in the corners of his smile.

  He ushered her into an exclusive club located in the casino. It was for high rollers, important guests. The two giant men at the door didn’t even blink when they walked up. Perhaps that was due to Cash being every bit as tough-looking as they were. Or maybe it was the way Jack’s people seemed to both precede and follow them everywhere they went. They were surrounded and well-guarded.

  The doors opened and they walked inside. Cash led her over to a cozy corner where plush couches flanked a low table on three sides. At another table, a dark-skinned man with copious amounts of gold around his neck looked up and gave them a nod.

  Cash nodded back.

  “Who is that?” Ella whispered. Or tried to whisper. The music was loud so she had to pitch her voice higher.

  “A rap artist. Can’t think of the name right now, but he’s pretty famous. Gina will know.”

  She took a seat on the couch he indicated, crossing her legs and leaning back as if she were relaxed and having the best time ever. Gina had coached her on how to behave, and she was doing her best to emulate the grace and poise of the other woman.

  Her dress was short, black, and sequined. It didn’t fit like a glove, but it hugged in all the right places. Her shoes were black, with ties that wrapped around her ankles and ended in pretty bows. She felt sexy and beautiful—and foreign. So, so foreign. This wasn’t like anything she’d ever worn. She loved it, and yet she couldn’t be certain her lack of experience wasn’t showing. Like a little girl playing dress-up with her mother’s clothes.

  Cash sank down beside her, his expression strained. He hated everything about this night, she was certain. The endless parade around Vegas, the pretense of being a happily married couple, the staged photos for the media when he bent his head to her and whispered in her ear, telling her to smile as he ran his fingers along her jaw and made her shiver.

  She glanced at the plain wedding band on her finger. He had a matching one. It wasn’t anything either of them had picked out, and yet it felt as real as if they had. The rings were platinum but unadorned. Gina had apologized when she’d presented the jewelry to them. Ella hadn’t even thought about rings. They hadn’t had them for the ceremony, but Gina said they needed them before they went out. A jeweler had sent up different sizes and they chose what fit. The end.

  A cocktail waitress in a skimpy costume that barely covered the important parts sashayed over. “Can I get you anything, sir? Madam?”

  “Club soda for me,” Cash said. “What would you like, Ella?”

  She’d been drinking club soda as well, with a lime so it looked like she was truly having a drink, but she was weary and she wanted something to take the edge off.

  “Champagne,” she said.

  “Does madam have a preference?” the girl asked, pen poised over her pad.

  Ella shot a panicked glance at Cash.

  “She’ll have Dom,” he said. “In fact, bring a bottle with extra glasses.”

  The waitress disappeared in the direction of the bar.

  “Who will drink all that champagne?” Ella asked.

  Cash shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  Jack and Gina came through the door to the club then. The music didn’t stop, but everyone seemed to go still for a second. And then the chatter ratcheted up as Gina strode over on platform heels. She took a moment to wave at someone, and then she sank down on one of the couches opposite. Jack joined her. But if the attention in the room was for her, her attention was on him. He bent her back against the cushions and kissed her. Her arms went around his neck almost helplessly.

  It wasn’t an obscene kiss, wasn’t anything inappropriate, but Ella suddenly felt as if she were intruding on a private moment. They stopped kissing and merely sat with their foreheads touching and their mouths moving as they whispered words to each other that no one else would ever know.

  Ella glanced away—and locked gazes with Cash. His eyes glittered as he slumped decadently against the cushions. He looked relaxed and lazy, but she was certain it was a myth. This man was not as unaware of everything going on around him as he pretended to be.

  His face was a study in perfection as he watched her. In the dim light of the lounge, his gaze was dark and brooding. His mouth was set in a firm line. The knuckles of one hand rolled back and forth beneath his bottom lip, a gesture that said he was thinking deeply about something.

  About her? About them? About what she’d said to him earlier?

  She’d told him she liked the way he touched her, that she wanted him to do it again. She didn’t expect he would, but just in case, she’d wanted him to know it was okay.

  Two days.

  Two days was all she’d spent with him, and here she was fending off a hot need to straddle his lap and grind her body against his. As if she’d known him for years. As if she trusted him to take care of her.

  But she did.

  She did trust him to take care of her. And, no matter that they were married and her family would know it by now, she was also more than a little bit panicked that she was still a virgin. As if her aunt and uncle would find her, kidnap her, have the marriage annulled, and force her into Sheikh Fahd’s arms after all.

  Because that’s the kind of people they were. Hell, they’d do it whether she was a virgin or not if they got the chance. Which was why she wanted to at least know what it felt like to be with a man she wanted to be with. If her relatives succeeded, she could take the memory of a night with Cash with her and use it to wall herself off from a man who used her body because he’d bought it.

  The waitress arrived with the champagne and glasses then. She popped the cork while they looked on, then poured four glasses.

  Gina picked hers up. “To Cash and Ella,” she said, lifting the glass.

  It wasn’t the first time tonight, but it still felt as awkward as it had earlier.

  Everyone took a drink. The men,
she noticed, put their glasses down and didn’t touch them again. A thumping song came on and Gina squealed.

  “Oh, I love this one. Let’s dance, baby,” she said to Jack.

  “No way, honey. You know I’d rather watch you.”

  Gina popped her hands on her hips. “Fine. Ella, you want to dance?”

  Ella’s initial reaction was to say no—but instead she took another gulp of champagne and stood. “Why not?”

  Gina didn’t lead her far away from the men, but when they reached the spot she’d decided was the right one, Gina began to dance. Her body was sensual, fit, and she rolled through moves that Ella had no idea how to do.

  “Let me show you,” Gina said, putting her hands on Ella’s hips and showing her the rhythm. “Like that, yes. Be sexy, Ella. Be seductive. Show that man what he’s missing tonight if he doesn’t take you into his arms.”

  Ella thought she should be embarrassed, but the little bit of champagne gave her courage. She found her rhythm, rocked her hips, followed Gina’s lead—and started to have real fun for the first time that night.

  “That’s it!”

  They danced through two songs, laughing and talking from time to time as Ella felt looser and freer than she had at the beginning. She got the idea how to move, copied Gina shamelessly, and let herself go.

  She let her hair swing around her, wild and free. She spread her arms and rocked her hips from side to side. Whenever she cast a glance around the club, men were watching her and Gina. They weren’t the only two dancing anymore, but many eyes stayed locked on them.

  And then there was Cash. His eyes didn’t leave her—at least not when she looked at him. He still slouched, but he wasn’t talking to Jack. He was watching her intently. Jack watched Gina, but his expression was happy. Oh, there was lust there as well, but there was also contentment. Ella wished she knew what that felt like. Being content with someone. Being happy and safe and certain they were there for you no matter what.

  Cash was there for her because he had to be. She appreciated it, but it wasn’t quite the same thing.

  She turned her back to him, undulated her body to the music. Closed her eyes and lifted her hands over her head, snapping her fingers as she danced. A laugh escaped her. A wild, free sound that startled her at first. But Gina laughed with her, her eyes sparkling.

  “That’s it, honey. Have a good time. Don’t let Cash ruin the fun for you.”

  A moment later, Jack was there, tugging Gina into his arms. She threw her head back, laughing as she went. He didn’t dance, but he held her and said words to her that made her expression melt into a sensual look that said everything.

  “Yes, baby, I agree.” Gina shot a look at Ella as she twined her hand with Jack’s. “We’re going now. You and Cash be good. See you in the morning.”

  She left the floor with Jack, holding hands, her body clinging to his as they walked out of the club together.

  Ella kept dancing, though it was a little odd to do so while alone. She turned away from Cash’s hot gaze, unwilling to stop just yet. A man approached from the other side of the club. His eyes rolled down her body, back up again. There was intent in his gaze. He wasn’t unattractive, but he wasn’t Cash either.

  She didn’t have to worry. A solid body pressed to her back, a hand going possessively around her waist. The lips at her ear made a hot shiver crawl down her spine and between her legs.

  The man approaching her halted in midstride. Then he turned and walked away. Cash spun her in his arms just as the music slowed. His eyes were hot, intense. Fathomless. What was he thinking?

  She wished he was thinking about her. About making love to her. Because that’s what she thought about. What she’d been thinking about since the moment he’d kissed her before their wedding ceremony.

  She stretched her arms up, put them around his neck. Her heart thudded at the feel of his hard body pressing into hers.

  “You’re playing with fire, sweet Ella,” he growled. “Better be careful before you get burned.”

  She tossed her hair defiantly. “And what if I want to burn?”

  His eyes narrowed. “How much champagne did you drink?”

  “You were sitting right there. One glass.”

  “One glass. You’re a lightweight, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not a drinker, if that’s what you’re asking.” She sighed and swayed against him. One glass relaxed her. Made her feel warm and tingly inside. It was a good thing. “Take me to bed, Cash. Take me to bed and show me how to give you pleasure.”

  “You’re killing me, Princess. Killing me dead.”

  She gasped as he swung her up into his arms, tightening her hold on his neck as the world tilted. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to bed.”

  Chapter 17

  By the time they’d reached the elevator, the thumping of the bar was muted. Cash didn’t set her down, though Hawk’s people were watching them from a short distance. When the doors to the elevator opened, he carried her inside and turned as if it was an everyday occurrence.

  Hawk’s men entered and turned away, studiously pretending nothing was going on. Cash was glad they were there. If this were any other night, any other woman, he’d have her up against the wall with his hands in her panties the second the door slid shut. He might even stop the elevator and fuck her in it, though that wasn’t quite as likely here in Vegas since there was a security camera pointed at them.

  Though, truth be told, the casino personnel had probably seen it all on these cameras.

  The elevator rose silently. Ella’s eyes were closed as she laid her head against his chest. He could only hope she really was exhausted and that she’d stay that way when they got back to the suite.

  He didn’t think he was that lucky, however. Ella Rossi would come alive the second they were alone. He’d bet on it.

  And he didn’t know how he was going to keep resisting her. It was almost funny how this one small, virginal woman affected him. He’d had sex with innumerable women and he’d enjoyed it. He wasn’t a man who lacked for pussy.

  So why was he jonesing for this one? Why did he want to be inside Ella in the worst way?

  He didn’t do virgins. In fact, he’d had no desire to do virgins before, so why now? Why did he want to break her hymen so badly? There would be blood. She would cry. She would also be sore. There would be no long night of fucking, only one encounter that would leave her hurting in spite of how careful he was with her.

  And yet the temptation was strong to do it anyway.

  The elevator stopped at their floor. Hawk’s men shadowed them back to their room. Cash would have cleared the room himself, but he had Ella in his arms. So he touched the card to the reader and let one of them go inside, weapon drawn. When he returned, he gave a nod.

  “All clear.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m not a sir,” Cash said. “I’m a SEAL. Enlisted, not officer.”

  The other man nodded. “Former Air Force. We’ll have a guard on the floor all night, by the way. She’ll be safe.”

  Cash thanked them and carried Ella inside, kicking the door closed with a foot. He twisted the dead bolt with one hand while she held on to his neck, then took her in and set her down. She made a reluctant noise, but she let him go.

  “I thought we were going to bed,” she said, her lower lip sticking out in a pout.

  God, he wanted to bite that lip. Suck it. Feel it on his dick.

  “You’re going to bed, Ella. Alone. It’s been a long day.”

  She glanced at the clock. “It’s only eleven p.m.”

  “Which is what time in Virginia?”

  She frowned. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Right. Three hours difference.”

  “I’m not tired.”

  “You will be. Put your head on the pillow and see what happens.”

  She frowned. And then she snorted. “Listen to you. Treating me like a small child who refuses
to cooperate.” She shook her head, all that glorious dark hair shimmering as she did so. “I’m a grown woman, Cash. I’ll decide when I go to bed.”

  There wasn’t much he could say about that. “Fine. You decide.”

  He went over and flopped onto the couch, grabbing the remote and turning on the television. He could see Ella in his periphery. He could see her far too well, in fact.

  That ridiculously short sequined dress, those long legs, and the damned bows at her ankles that he wanted to untie with his teeth before spreading her open and licking her into oblivion.

  Things he would not do, no matter how badly he wanted to.

  He flipped to the news channel to see what the story was about Ella. He didn’t have long to wait before pictures of him and Ella flashed across the screen. The anchor read about their marriage in Vegas, about the nationwide hunt for her that had now been called off.

  Ella walked over and stood a few feet away, arms folded over her chest as she watched. Her uncle appeared at one point, a microphone thrust into his face—a red face with a prominent vein throbbing in his forehead.

  “We are thrilled she is safe, yes. But Her Royal Highness has acted very irresponsibly. She’s disappointed her family and the man she was contracted to marry. But she can still come home. She can still do her duty. We will always welcome her with open arms.”

  Ella scoffed. “With chains, more likely.”

  “The princess married a commoner. An American military man. How does that affect the succession in Capriolo?”

  Cash changed the channel before something that would likely upset Ella got said.

  “Hey,” Ella said. “I was watching that.”

  “You heard the important part.”

  She frowned and tapped her foot. “I’ve no idea why they were talking about the succession. If the Rossis still ruled, my uncle would be king. And my cousins would be next in line. I’m fourth in line at least. And I would be pushed farther down when my cousins have children.” She shrugged. “It’s not important anyway. The people of Capriolo chose to exile us when they chose a representative government rather than a monarchy.”

 

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