“Does that bother you?”
“Why would it? I have been raised in America. Capriolo has done well enough without us. I would not want to be queen anyway.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“It is simply another kind of prison, I think. I am tired of prisons. I want to be free.”
“You’re married to me,” Cash said. “That’s not freedom.”
“Maybe not, but I am free of the Rossis. And that’s what’s important to me.”
She laughed suddenly, a sound filled with glee. A sound that struck a chord within him. Had he ever been that happy?
“I’m finally free of them, Cash. And I have you to thank for it. If you hadn’t stopped when you saw me…” She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Well, I can only imagine how I’d be feeling right now.”
He could imagine it too. And he didn’t like it. She would be terrified probably. He didn’t think Fahd would hurt her, but he also didn’t think Fahd would have taken care of her either. He’d have taken her virginity in the way that gave him the most pleasure and to hell with her feelings about it.
“I’m glad I stopped too.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Even though you’re saddled with a wife you didn’t want?”
“If marrying you got you free of those people—and Fahd—then yeah, I’m glad. Besides, it’s not permanent. We’ll both be free again before we know it.”
She didn’t look at him. “Yes. We will.”
Somehow she managed to be sexy and innocent at the same time. Vulnerable and strong. She confounded him in ways he’d never experienced. He wanted to get up and take her in his arms. Tell her it would be all right in the end. That she’d be fine.
Except he couldn’t do it. Because if he did, if he wrapped her in his embrace, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t let her go for the rest of the night.
* * *
Ella slept fitfully. She woke at odd hours, her heart pounding a crazy rhythm, her ears straining to hear any movement in the darkness. But then she heard Cash’s breathing and her heart slowed again.
He lay in bed with her, but so far on the other side of the mattress that he might as well be the next county over. The bed was huge and there was room for them both—plus four other people if they all lay still.
She was a light sleeper, and a still one. Cash didn’t move much either. There was little chance they’d wake up next to each other.
By the time morning arrived, Ella was cranky from lack of sleep. When Cash woke her, she threw a pillow at him.
“Sorry, Princess, but we’ve got to get moving. Breakfast with Hawk and Gina and then a helicopter tour of the Grand Canyon. Real honeymoon shit.”
Ella grumbled as she pushed herself onto an elbow. Cash was far too awake and far too beautiful standing over her. “Staying in bed is honeymoon shit. Not helicopters and stuff.”
“I think both are acceptable. This morning it’s a tour. You can sleep later.”
“I wasn’t talking about sleep,” Ella muttered under her breath.
“What are you mumbling about?”
“Nothing.” She threw back the covers, revealing her tank top and sleep shorts. Thankfully, Gina had sent a few things up to Ella’s suite. She still didn’t know how she was going to pay the other woman back, but she would. Somehow.
Cash’s eyes narrowed. Then he turned and walked away. There was a coffee maker on the mirrored bar near the door. He went over and poured a cup.
“You want coffee?”
“Yes, please.” She climbed from bed and shuffled into the bathroom. When she was finished, she went out to join Cash. He held out a cup.
“Black, right?”
“Yes.”
She took it and sipped, waiting for the liquid to make her come alive. Her head started to throb. Really? Great.
“What’s wrong?”
She glanced up at Cash. He’d noticed? “Slight headache.”
“Too much champagne, I imagine.”
“I didn’t have too much.”
“You danced in front of a crowd.”
She had, hadn’t she? “I had one glass, Cash. I said so last night. Besides, it was Gina who got me out there.”
He went over and rummaged through his bag. When he returned, he held out two caplets. “Take this. You’ll feel better.”
She swallowed them down with hot coffee and hoped he was right. He was staring at her when she looked up.
“What?”
He shook his head. “You’re too trusting, Ella. You have no idea what I just gave you.”
“Would you give me anything bad?”
“No.”
“Then what is the problem? Should I have demanded an explanation before taking headache pills?”
“Maybe not with me, but when you’re on your own, be more careful, okay?”
Her heart gave a throb in time with her head. “Of course. I’m not stupid.”
She finished the coffee while he took a phone call. When she felt awake enough, she went and got dressed. She put on cropped navy trousers, flat sandals with little jewels on the leather straps, and a long white shirt with tails that she knotted at her waist.
She tied her hair up in a loose knot and grabbed the small handbag Gina had given her. She had lipstick and her new ID inside. Maybe she could get a phone next. The thought excited her.
Until she started thinking about who would call her. Precisely nobody. She had no friends, no colleagues. Cash might call. Gina. She sighed. Perhaps a phone wasn’t all that exciting after all.
She went back into the main living area of the suite. Cash was sprawled on the couch, watching the news. She heard her name and then he pressed the button and the sound went dead. He was frowning and her belly sank just a bit farther toward her toes.
“What is it?”
He looked up. “Nothing.”
“You don’t look like it’s nothing. Is Uncle Gaetano being an ass on television again? Did Aunt Flavia demand my return?”
“No.” He sat forward, elbows on knees, and gazed at her. “You don’t really know a lot about Capriolo, do you?”
He was beginning to worry her. “Why should I? I have never been there and will never go there since the royal family is exiled. Is there something amiss on the island?”
He levered himself up and came over to put his hands on her shoulders. “There’s no easy way to say this, but… They lied to you, Ella. Your whole life, they lied.”
It didn’t surprise her that anyone had lied, but she still wanted to ask who he meant exactly. As if she didn’t know.
“The news outlets have it now, so you need to know the truth. Before we walk out there and you have to face something you won’t be expecting.”
“What is it, Cash? Just say it, for heaven’s sake.” Her imagination was beginning to run wild.
She was already married to the sheikh because only a contract was necessary.
She was adopted.
Or illegitimate.
“Your father was the heir to the throne. Not your uncle.”
She searched his gaze. Looking for deception. For humor—was he kidding her? But there was nothing like that. Just concern and, yes, anger. He tried to keep a lid on that anger, but she saw it flickering behind the concern.
The enormity of what he’d said rolled over her. Pressed down on her. If Papa had been the heir, then that meant…
No.
Yes.
“If we still ruled, I would be queen.”
“Yes, you would be.”
Her jaw opened and closed. Shock flooded her. She was a queen? All this time, and they’d told her nothing.
Fury kindled deep in her belly and flared hot. It wasn’t that she wanted to be a queen. Not at all. But the way they’d treated her. The way they’d made her feel.
“All these years… The fear, the deprivation, the way they made me believe I was a burden to them…”
She closed her eyes and squeezed them tight. All she’d ever
wanted was to belong. To be loved. Hell, to be liked would have been enough. Instead, they kept her with them, begrudging everything they gave her, telling her she cost them money and that she owed them. Owed them her virginity, her fealty, her very life.
She’d nearly married Sheikh Fahd. For them. For a group of people over whom she should be sovereign, were they still in Capriolo. They’d stripped her of her dignity and given her nothing in return. And all the while, she was the ranking royal family member in their midst. It was monstrous and vile.
And wholly like the Rossi clan she knew.
“I hate them,” she said from between clenched teeth. She’d thought it many times, but she’d never voiced it. Guilt had always stopped her. The idea that she’d been foisted on her aunt and uncle and they were doing the best they could.
But no, it hadn’t been that at all. They’d used her, denied her, ignored her.
“I know, honey,” Cash said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in close. She spread her palms over his shirt, felt the warmth of his body beneath. Concentrated on his scent and his solidness.
“The money,” she said as the enormity of it began to sink in. “The money they spent, the money they used to fund their lifestyle—it was probably mine all along.”
“Probably. But it’s gone, right?”
“Not all of it. There is still the estate. But how would I prove anything? It’s not like there is a royal treasury anymore. I have no power here.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
She pushed back, gripped his arms, stared up at him. “How? How can you do this?”
“I know people, Ella. No guarantees, but if anyone can figure it out, my boys can.”
“Your boys?”
“The people I work with.”
Another thought unfurled deep inside. An insidious thought. If her aunt and uncle were cornered, they would strike back. Besides, it wasn’t the money she cared about so much as the freedom that money represented. She could buy a house. Go to college. Make her own way. But was it worth the risk to Cash and his friends for them to pry? Her uncle could be ruthless. What if he hurt Cash?
“Maybe we should leave it alone. I only wanted my freedom. If I have that, it will be enough.”
He looked fierce. “They should pay for what they’ve done to you.”
“They already are. Without the money they were to get from Sheikh Fahd for the marriage, they will soon be hurting. I won’t be sorry about that.”
He didn’t like it. She could see that in his eyes. “You okay, Princess?”
Ella pulled in a deep breath. She was still reeling inside. Would probably reel for days. Nothing was as she’d thought. She was a queen. Or would be if there were still a monarchy. Without a crowning ceremony, she would always be a princess. But a princess who was first among Capriolan royalty.
It was a lot to take in.
“I don’t want to go anywhere, Cash. Can we please stay here today?”
His fingers ghosted down the side of her face. “Yeah, we’ll stay. I’ll call Hawk.”
Chapter 18
Cash had no idea what came next in this adventure. He was already so far out of his depth that he couldn’t begin to predict anything. But one thing he knew—he had to protect Ella. She wasn’t precisely fragile, but she was feeling the psychological bruises today. That’s why he called up Hawk and told him they were staying in. Cash didn’t particularly want to spend an entire day cooped up with Ella, but it would be cruel to drag her out to deal with more reporters when she was still absorbing the fact that her relatives had lied to her for so long.
While Ella curled up in a chair by the window with a book she’d found on one of the shelves, he surfed through TV stations, looking for something mind-numbing. He landed on NCIS and kept it there. That show was fun even if it was cheesy as hell and inaccurate about a lot of shit that he and his kind did. Gibbs made him think of Colonel Mendez, except that Gibbs was a bit older. Still a badass though.
He kept the sound low so as not to disturb Ella. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen anybody so engrossed in a book. She had no cell phone, so she wasn’t constantly picking it up to check her social media accounts. It was strange and refreshing at the same time. He’d been out with women who were tethered to their devices, who had to glance at it every chance they got. Some even picked it up after sex. One had Instagrammed the rumpled sheets and her bare legs. When she’d tried to snap his abs, he’d taken the phone and tossed it onto the floor before giving her a reason to forget all about Instagram for a while.
A couple of hours into his NCIS marathon, his phone rang. A glance told him it was Camel.
“Hey, dude,” Cash said.
“That was one hell of a fishing trip you went on,” Camel said.
Cash snorted. “Caught something I didn’t expect, that’s for sure. If you’d come with me like I asked, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”
Though that meant that Ella would currently be in Sheikh Fahd’s harem somewhere in Qu’rim. She wouldn’t be a virgin anymore. And she’d probably be crying.
“I’m allergic to fish.”
“I’ve seen you eat shrimp and striped bass. You are not allergic.”
“Fine, I’m allergic to fishing. Who wants to stand around and throw a line in the water all day? Give me a rifle and let me hunt.”
“Is that really fair to your prey? You’re a fucking military sniper. You don’t miss. Bambi doesn’t stand a chance with you.”
“Hey, when I shoot a deer, I take it to be processed and donate the meat to the homeless shelters in town. It might not be fair to the deer, but it’s good for people who need to eat.”
“Fine, you got me there. So what’s up back at HQ?” he asked, knowing this was more than a simple shoot-the-breeze call.
“Same shit, different day. When are you coming back?”
“We’re supposed to head back tomorrow. But I don’t know what happens after.”
“So you really got hitched, huh?”
“You know I did. You motherfuckers have probably been laughing yourselves silly about it for the past two days.”
Camel snorted. “Yeah, you bet we have. Cash “Money” McQuaid, the dedicated bachelor, hitched to a frigging princess. She’s a hot little piece of ass too. You tapping that yet?”
Cash couldn’t explain the wave of ice that crystallized in his veins. Or the hot anger that burned it up again. “No.” He glanced at Ella. She was still face-first in her book. He pitched his voice lower anyway. “I’d appreciate you don’t talk that way about my wife, man. Not cool.”
There was a moment’s hesitation on the other end. “Dude, you’re serious.”
“Sure am. Don’t do it. You don’t talk about Ivy or Christina or Miranda that way to Viking or Cage or Cowboy’s faces, right? So don’t do it to Ella.”
“Copy that, and sorry if I crossed a line.”
“It’s okay. But now you know.”
“You falling for her?”
Cash frowned. “No way. But she’s been through a lot. I don’t want to see her deal with more crap than she can handle.”
“I guess my real reason for calling doesn’t even need to be discussed now. The answer is clearly no.”
“You can’t say that for sure. What is it?”
“Women. Two of them who want to double-date this weekend.”
“I just got married and you thought I’d want to go on a date?”
“Hey, we were told you had to do it in order to cover your ass. I figured you’d go your separate ways when you got home and you’d be back to your usual routine.”
His usual routine. Missions, women, missions, women, missions. Lather, rinse, repeat. Didn’t sound so fun at the moment, even though it was the way he lived his life on a regular basis.
“Probably be a while before things get back to normal.”
There was amusement in Camel’s tone. “So I gathered. Hey, let us know when you’re back. And what we can
do to help with the situation. If she needs twenty-four seven protection, the guys will make it happen.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Enjoy your honeymoon, Money.”
“Don’t be a dick, asswipe.”
Camel laughed. “You know that’s not going to happen. You’ve got an old lady now. It’s fricking hilarious as shit.”
“I’m hanging up now.” Cash ended the call with Camel’s laughter ringing in his ears.
A glance at Ella revealed that she’d fallen asleep in the chair. The book lay in her lap, her head was tilted to the side, and her pretty pink mouth dropped open the slightest little bit.
He thought about moving her to the bed, but touching her was an exercise in iron control. Not that he wasn’t capable of maintaining control, but it hurt. Physically hurt in ways that could only be relieved in the shower with his hand wrapped around his cock and thoughts of her in his head.
There was time for that. He could sneak off to the shower, turn on the spray, and release some of this tension before she woke.
Cash shook his head. No, he wasn’t leaving her here. What if she woke up while he was gone? What if she opened the door to the room and someone grabbed her while he was standing in the shower and beating off to the thought of her?
Nope, not the way he operated. He was just going to have to suffer for a while.
He went over to pick up the book and laid it on the table before it slipped to the floor. The book was jacketless. He’d expected one of her racy romance novels, but instead it was a nonfiction tome.
Body of Secrets: Anatomy of the Ultra-Secret National Security Agency.
Cash blinked at the woman asleep on the chair. Seriously? She was reading a book about the National Security Agency? She’d been engrossed for hours now. He took it over to the couch and flipped it open to the beginning.
Holy shit.
It was all about cryptography and code-breaking. National security. He flipped through it, careful not to lose her place. Fascinating shit. He’d loved reading as a kid. Still did, but he didn’t get much time for it these days. Mostly he read mission briefs, studied intelligence reports, read the paper—things like that.
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