HOT SEAL Bride

by Lynn Raye Harris

  He felt as if she’d stabbed a dagger into his heart and twisted it. Why? It was an ordinary enough question—

  And then it hit him. No one ever asked him that. No sexual partner, no friend, nobody. What do you need?

  So many things. So many damned things.

  He squeezed her hand before letting go and put on his easygoing face as he slouched in the seat. The one that said he didn’t care what happened so long as it was good. “Nothing, babe. I’m good.”

  “Are you?”

  His heart hitched for a second. Hurt and anger flared. He stuffed them deep. Gave her a wink and a smile. “Yeah. Just fine.” He tipped his chin at the menu still in her other hand. “You figure out what you want to drink yet?”

  The flight attendant arrived as if on cue and took their drink orders. When she left, Ella gave him a serious look.

  “What happens when we arrive?”

  Cash shrugged. “Not much. We’ll be met by my team, and we’ll go talk to the boss. Or I’ll go talk to him. Not sure about you.”

  And he wasn’t.

  Her skin paled. “I don’t want to be without you. Not yet. You’re the only person I know outside of my family. Please don’t let them take me somewhere away from you.”

  In any other circumstance, he’d have been alarmed by a woman he’d slept with saying those things to him. Begging him not to leave. But not this time. He understood where she was coming from.

  “I don’t think that’s the plan, Ella. We put too much into this story to turn around and call it into doubt. We aren’t being separated. Not yet.”

  She seemed to relax then. The drinks arrived and she sipped the sparkling water she’d ordered. Her fingers were long, elegant. The wedding band on her ring finger seemed naked without a diamond residing beside it. He wasn’t going to put one there, of course. Didn’t mean he couldn’t notice it would look better if she had one. As if he could afford to put one there anyway. At least not the kind royalty deserved.

  “It’s been a long day,” she said after a few moments. “So many things have happened.”

  “I’d say it’s been a long few days.”

  “Well, yes. But today I learned I would be a queen if circumstances were different. And I finally lost my virginity.”

  Cash dropped his gaze to her neck and the mark there. He wanted to give her another one. Hell, he wanted to be inside her again. As soon as possible.

  “Any regrets?”

  She lifted her lashes, her dark eyes boring into his. “Many. But none of them involve you.”

  * * *

  It was still dark when the plane landed at a private airstrip in Maryland. Ella blinked awake as a hand gently shook her. She shifted in the seat and winced at the soreness of her interior muscles. She’d expected it would hurt a bit, but it was surprising how much it did. Then again, it was like working out. When you worked a body part that hadn’t been worked in a long time—or ever in the case of her vagina—then you had to deal with a bit of soreness at first. It would get better with time—and more workouts.

  Which she really hoped she got, though she couldn’t be sure she would. Cash had grown so serious since they’d left the hotel, so businesslike. Once they’d gotten airborne, he’d stopped talking altogether—and she’d finally given up and fallen asleep.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked now.

  She turned her head, their gazes colliding. The cool mint color of his eyes struck her as one of the prettiest things she’d ever seen. The dark rim around his irises intensified their prettiness. Not that she thought he’d appreciate that word. Pretty. Cash was a lot more than pretty.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”

  “You didn’t look fine.”

  She sighed as she sat up and stretched. “I’m sore, Cash. Bits of me are still recovering.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “You did your best. I think it’s to be expected. Non-use and all that.”

  He looked so chagrined that she didn’t expect him to snort. “Jesus, Ella. You always make me laugh, even when I don’t want to.”

  “It’s a gift,” she said, though she wasn’t sure it was any such thing. Still, the fact he laughed—the sound of his laugh—did things to her insides. Made them fluttery and happy. He was a dangerous man in more ways than one, only the danger was to her heart. Her poor, unloved, starving-for-affection heart.

  He took her hand and wrapped his fingers around it. The aforementioned heart fluttered and trembled.

  “Yeah, it is. You ready?”

  “What happens now?”

  The cabin depressurized as the exterior door opened.

  “We get in the waiting SUV out there and go where it takes us.”

  “You don’t know where that is?”

  “I suspect I know. But it’s nowhere you’ve heard of or will hear of. So we go. Or not. Depends.”

  She turned to look out the window. There was indeed an SUV there. A black one with a man standing near the door. Two other men stood nearby. They looked dangerous too. Intense and determined.

  Cash helped her up, and they walked down the aisle to the stairs that had been rolled up to the plane. He stepped out first, then turned and waited for her to join him. They walked down hand in hand while he slowed his steps for her.

  At the bottom, the two men strode up. They were both grinning. It made her feel a little better. A little less apprehensive.

  “Congratulations, Money,” one of them said. “Never thought to see the day.”

  “Shut up, Camel,” Cash growled. “You too, Cowboy. Not a word.”

  The one named Cowboy snorted. But he turned his attention to her. “Your Highness, welcome. Don’t pay any attention to this jerk,” he added, nodding toward Camel.

  Camel? She thought it an odd name. A homely desert animal with a humped back? This man was not homely. At all. He was tall, dark-haired, and strikingly handsome. So was the one named Cowboy—except he was the bigger of the two. Wider, more muscular. Not that Camel wasn’t muscular, but he was leaner.

  “Thank you,” she said when she remembered to stop staring and open her mouth.

  “Boys, this lady is my wife,” Cash said, tucking her arm into his and stepping closer to her. “Princess Antonella Maria Rossi McQuaid—or however that works. Not quite sure of it yet.”

  “Call me Ella,” she said. “Please.”

  “Ella, these two idiots are my teammates. Alex Kamarov and Cody McCormick. You can call them whatever you like, including asshole—they’ll answer to it.”

  “Jesus, Money,” Camel said. “Do you really talk like that in front of your lovely bride?”

  “He does,” Ella replied. “But it’s okay because I tend to shock him too.”

  Camel’s eyebrows went up. So did Cowboy’s.

  “You don’t say,” Cowboy replied. “I’d love to hear all about it.”

  “No you wouldn’t,” Cash interjected. “Mind your own business. You taking us somewhere in that land yacht or are we gonna camp out on the tarmac at this ungodly hour and shoot the breeze?”

  “Nope, we’re going,” Camel said. “After you.”

  They went over to the SUV where the man waiting for them opened the doors. “Welcome back, Money,” he said. “And congrats.”

  “Thanks, man. Ella, this one is Adam Garrison. You can call him Blade—or asshole. Same thing applies.”

  Blade laughed. “Ma’am, you can call me whatever you like.”

  “Watch it,” Cash growled as Blade took her offered hand and kissed the back of it. “She’s married.”

  “For now,” the man said with a wink.

  Ella laughed. Okay, so she liked Cash’s friends. Cash helped her into the SUV and climbed in beside her. The others piled in as well. Their luggage—which wasn’t much—was loaded into the rear of the vehicle, and then they were speeding away from the plane and out onto a dark access road.

  Ella yawned and tried not to nod off as they sped through the night. She wanted to hear e
verything these men said, but she was disappointed because they didn’t say much. There was some teasing about her and Cash’s marriage, but they kept it light. Ella sat up straight and tall in the back seat and tried not to lean against Cash, but after the second time she jerked herself upright, he tugged her into the circle of his arm, draping his fingers over her shoulder where he could twirl her hair.

  She felt the quiet stillness of the vehicle then. The way the conversation sort of died off for a moment, the silence seeming heavy, before one of the men said something about someone named Viking.

  Lord, she would never keep up with these people and their names. Real names, nicknames—they all blurred together for the time being. Too many people. Too many names. Though she thought maybe she’d met Viking before, back at the fishing cabin.

  After a short trip, they turned into what appeared to be a military facility. A guard stood by a building in the center of the road, checking the identification of everyone who entered. Before Ella could stir, Cash lowered the window and held up her passport along with his own identification. The guard looked at everything and then waved them through.

  “Where are we?” she asked softly.

  “It’s where I work. We need to find out what the plan is for keeping you safe, where we’ll be staying, that kind of thing.”

  “You promised,” she said, trying to keep her voice low. She got the impression the other men heard her anyway.

  “I know, Princess. Don’t worry.”

  She couldn’t do anything else.

  Chapter 23

  “Wow, Money,” Cowboy said after they’d gone through the security checks to get into the secure areas of HOT HQ.

  They’d left Ella in the area of the building that housed the temporary quarters. Victoria Brandon, a contracted sniper to Alpha Squad, was with her. She was safe, but Cash had hated to leave her side. He could still see the fear in her eyes that she’d kept hidden from everyone else. But he knew it was there because he knew her.

  An odd thought when he’d only known her a few days, but there it was.

  “That woman,” Cowboy continued. “Holy shit, what a body.”

  Cash tried not to be annoyed. Before Cowboy had gotten tangled up with Miranda, he and Cash had spent a lot of nights prowling the bars and clubs together. They assessed women frankly and appreciatively. Discussed tits, asses, and pussies—and what they intended to do with them—without a second thought.

  But if Cowboy went there right now…

  Cash stopped. Cowboy stopped. They stood in the middle of a darkened hallway with cameras bearing down on them, capturing every move they made. And every word too.

  Cash turned and faced his teammate. His friend.

  “Not another word, buddy. Not about her. Ella’s not one of the women you pick up in a bar. She’s a lady. A princess. And she’s my wife, so please don’t make me mop the floor with you for everyone in the control room to see.”

  Cowboy’s jaw dropped open. And then he burst out laughing. Cash stiffened.

  Until his friend backed up, both hands in the air, and shook his head. “Holy shit, Camel was right. You’ve fallen for her.”

  Cash’s gut tightened. “What are you talking about? She’s a lady, that’s all. Don’t talk about her like she’s a slut. You wouldn’t talk about Miranda like that. Don’t do it about Ella either.”

  Not that he had anything against sluts. God knew he was a man slut. Or had been. Until recently anyway. Would be again.

  Maybe.

  “Camel dared me. Sorry, man. No disrespect. None at all.”

  Camel entered the corridor from behind them. He’d been talking to one of the guards back there and hadn’t gone through when they did.

  “Motherfucker,” Cash said, spinning as Camel walked up. “You told him to say that?”

  Camel’s grin spread ear to ear. “As much grief as you’ve given him over Miranda—I couldn’t resist. Sorry.”

  “Not to mention,” Cowboy added, “that crap you pulled when you took on the job of playing her husband on the mission to smoke out Victor Conti—yeah, you fucking deserve it.”

  Cash growled. “Jesus, asshole. That was a job. And you acted like you couldn’t stand Miranda. Someone had to be her husband for the op. We all gave you the chance—you refused.”

  “Yeah, but then you rubbed my damned nose in it every chance you got. I wanted to kill you for making her laugh. For pretending she was yours.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t feel so great when you’re on the receiving end, does it?”

  It was probably too late to play it cool now that he’d blown like a pressure valve. He went for offended protector instead. “No matter what you think, I’m not in love with Ella. I barely know her. But she’s a sweet girl. She doesn’t deserve you assholes talking about her like she’s fresh meat.”

  “Barely know her? What’s that mark on her neck?”

  Shit.

  “It’s called verisimilitude. Look it up.”

  Cowboy snorted. “I know what that word means, dickhead.”

  “I don’t,” Camel mumbled.

  Cowboy kept going. “You’re trying to tell me you put that mark on her to make this marriage thing look real? Sure thing, bro. I believe you.”

  His tone said he clearly did not.

  “As fun as this is, you two want to keep the colonel waiting or what?” Camel asked as he started to walk backward. “’Cause I’m gonna have to get on into that briefing room without you if so. I am not making that man wait another second.”

  Shit. Mendez.

  “C’mon,” Cash grumbled. “If you’re done having fun at my expense?”

  “For now,” Cowboy said.

  They strode down the corridor and through another two security doors before they reached the one they were looking for. A thumb and retina scan later, the door slid open and they entered a room where their commanding officer lounged at a long table with one hand propped against his cheek and the other tapping on a computer keyboard. The rest of the SEALs were there too, as well as Ghost, the deputy commander.

  “Glad you boys could finally make it,” Colonel John “Viper” Mendez said, looking up, one eyebrow arched mockingly. He motioned to the empty chairs. “Have a seat.”

  Blade was already there. He’d gone ahead of them once they’d arrived at HQ. He shot the three of them a grin that Mendez couldn’t see and mouthed the words You’re fucked.

  “How’s the princess, Money?”

  “Fine, sir.” He tried not to think about the love bite on her neck. How prominent it was. How he shouldn’t have done it. Dumb ass. “A bit weary, but holding up.”

  Someone snorted and then coughed to cover it. Cash had to work at not glaring at the entire pack of dickheads. They were so fucking amused by this. All he’d wanted to do was go fishing, dammit.

  Mendez’s gaze swept the group. He knew they were having fun, but his patience only went so far.

  “That’s enough, boys,” he said mildly. “Money was in the right place at the right time and he did what any of you would do. Now, maybe he deserves some shit for teasing the hell out of the rest of you when it comes to women, and maybe those of you who’ve gotten married take particular pleasure in ribbing him since he once declared that dating was a buffet and you guys were stuck with the same entrée every night—”

  Holy shit, Mendez knew about that?

  “But we’re going to take this shit serious and make sure that girl stays safe. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir,” everyone said in unison.

  Mendez nodded. “Good.” He tapped a key and a slide came up on the overhead. It was a picture of Sheikh Fahd. “Intel says he’s returned to Qu’rim. We think he wanted to marry the princess because a royal wife—especially a queen in exile—would bolster his claim to the Qu’rimi throne if the rebels succeed in overthrowing King Tariq bin Abdullah.”

  He let his gaze slide over them. “It’s possible he’s given up on the idea now that the princess is married and presumably no lo
nger a virgin.”

  Cash’s neck grew hot. Pray to God none of these assholes saw any color flaring on his face. He’d drop the first one who made a disparaging remark about the state of Ella’s virginity—and he’d do it in front of the colonel with the full knowledge that it was going to cost him.

  “It’s also possible that he has not,” Mendez continued. “Which means we’re going to have to keep an eye on things surrounding her, at least until we get some kind of confirmation he’s moved on. And then there’s her family.”

  A new slide popped up. This one featured her aunt and uncle, two people with petulant expressions and an air of entitlement that oozed from their photos. Cash wanted to punch them both in the mouth.

  “They’ve been hounding the State Department since they’ve learned where she went. They insist she has no legal right to marry without the approval of her guardians. They want the marriage dissolved and the princess returned to them.”

  “No.”

  Cash hadn’t realized he’d gotten to his feet until the colonel looked up. Everyone else had tilted their heads up as well. He spread his hands on the table and slowly sank down again.

  Don’t overreact.

  But somebody had to speak for Ella. Somebody had to tell them what had happened to her.

  “They kept her a virtual prisoner,” he said, his heart hot as the words tumbled out. “They denied her money, friends—hell, they even denied her food. She hasn’t been allowed any freedom to be her own person. They can rot in hell for all I care.”

  Cash thought that Ghost covered a smile as he absently ran his pen back and forth on the paper in front of him. Mendez didn’t crack a smile, but his expression softened for the barest of moments. As if he understood.

  “We aren’t letting them have her, son. Believe me, we aren’t. I won’t let it happen, I guarantee you that. But I need you all to know what’s going on. This is a briefing, like any other mission briefing you’ve attended. You need the whole picture. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

  “All right. So let’s discuss protection plans. Who, what, where, why. We’re looking at a week or two, maybe longer if something happens. Princess Antonella appears to be a hotly contested prize in a dangerous game of tug-of-war. Her relatives want her back, Sheikh Fahd has plans for her that we can’t be certain have changed, and there’s a fringe movement in Capriolo that wants to use her as a lightning rod in their plans to gather support for a return to the monarchy.”