by Dawn Ryder
“That a girl.” Saxon came down beside her, landing on his feet, looking capable and so damned strong. She was struck with just how much strength he had in him.
“Small town…” She was up and keeping pace with him with ease. “We spent a lot of time outside.”
She heard a chuckle from him and a hint of acceptance.
“One more.” Saxon pointed at the back wall of the yard they were running through.
Ginger took it with as much ease as the first, managing a bit more graceful landing.
“Where to?” she asked when he looked over to see how she was faring. He considered her for a moment, deciding if she was panicking or not. Ginger returned his gaze without flinching, shooting him her best attempt at a ready-to-go look. Surprise flickered through his blue eyes with something that looked a lot like admiration.
“The Strip.”
With her thoughts buzzing, it took her brain a moment to process his answer. Ginger looked up and blinked as she absorbed what she was seeing.
“We’re in Las Vegas?” She asked.
“Observant of you,” he remarked as he scanned the area in front of them and tugged her onto the sidewalk. “And we need to be somewhere very public and very heavily watched to hide while my team finds us. The Strip boasts one of the tightest security surveillance zones in the world plus it’s packed with people taking pictures.”
“So we’re going to hide in plain sight.” Impressive. In a she-really-hoped-it-worked sort of way.
He cut her a side look, one that showed her a gleam in his eyes. “They want to kill you but without witnesses.”
“That won’t happen here,” she muttered as they got closer. There were people everywhere, and they were only on the far end of the strip, the towers of the major resorts still several blocks away.
“As long as they don’t get too close. In a crowd, that would be hard to catch.”
He came around her at a corner and controlled her with an expertly placed hand along her hip. She shifted, uncertain of being so close to him. Sure, she knew he was doing it to protect her, but that didn’t stop the flood of responses being so close to him unleashed.
“Easy,” he said, low and soothing. “We’ve got to blend in.”
They’d crossed a street and were moving along with a surge of people making their way along the strip. “There are plenty of non-couples here.”
The hand on her hip stayed exactly where it was. “We’re in deep and on our own for the moment. Trust me on this. I know what I’m doing.”
He looked toward her, a warning flickering in his eyes, but he caught something over her shoulder and tugged her around in a hard motion. They went spinning into an entryway and then through a door marked “private.”
Saxon didn’t give it a second glance, propelling her through it before shoving it shut while he considered what was on the other side of it.
“Perfect.”
Saxon was looking at the clothing in the room. There were racks of Hawaiian shirts and a rolling rack of ladies’ dresses from the fifties. There was also a couple passed out on a sofa, the scent of booze rising off of them. Saxon considered both of them and nodded with satisfaction. He cast a look her way and pointed at the rack of dresses.
“Get one of those on.”
He was already ripping through the buttons on the front of his shirt and pulling it open.
Her mouth went dry.
Oh my …
He reached out and cupped her shoulder, spinning her around to face the rack of dresses. “Now, Ginger, while we’re still alive.”
Ginger reached out for the dresses but her thoughts were very much still on the sight of Saxon’s bare chest. God he was lick-able, from those hard shoulders, across amazing looking pectorals, and down to a sculpted abdomen. Man meat, eye candy, and well, scrumptious.
But looking at the dresses gave her enough time for her brain to engage. “Wait, how did you recognize anyone?” She’d flipped around, a dress in her hand but honestly, she hadn’t really looked at it beyond the size. She was busy thinking through the way his face had looked right before he took her through the doorway.
He didn’t like her thought path. There was a tightening of his jaw as he worked the last few buttons on the Hawaiian shirt. “We need to prioritize. Getting back with my team is in the number-one slot. Get changed, it will make us harder to spot.”
He checked his gun and swept the room before he tucked it into a holster he had clipped to his belt. The shirt was one that hung free, covering the weapon.
He was right. She needed to focus but that didn’t mean she was going to forget. She shrugged out of her clothes and found him holding the dress out. He wasn’t looking away this time, and she felt her cheeks get warm as she recognized the look of reprisal in his eyes.
“Good for the goose … good for the gander…” he offered along with the dress.
“Ah…” She pulled the dress down with a rustle of fabric and netting.
“Maybe I’m trying to help you make lemonade.”
Saxon offered her a grin as he reached out and cupped her shoulder once more and turned her around so that he could grab the zipper of the dress. There was a whoosh as he pulled it and the garment became snug at her waist and breasts.
“Oh…” There was a full-length dressing mirror in front of her, giving her a glimpse of herself. The dress had a flared-out skirt that was supported by tulle, a snug little waist and a cross-over top that afforded a plunging view of her cleavage. The way the bodice was cut, it hugged her shoulders, making her look like a mega hourglass.
“That will get the right kind of attention,” Saxon said.
She turned around and caught Saxon surveying her from head to toe, darned if it didn’t look like he was enjoying the sight. As in, really liking the view, which made her darn toes curl.
“Come on.” He’d caught her watching him and cleared his throat before hooking her bicep and making for the far side of the room.
“Hold on.” She stopped near the door where a shoe rack was and slipped a pair of pumps on. There was also a selection of little hats, cleverly mounted on headbands so they would stay on without hat pins. Ginger picked one up and put it on her head. It matched the dress and had a little piece of netting attached to it that complemented the vintage era of the dress. “Now the picture is complete.”
But it actually wasn’t. The moment Saxon pushed open the door, a girl turned around and smiled at them. “You look lovely,” she said as she handed a bouquet of flowers to Ginger. “And the groom…”
Ginger was still staring at the flowers in her hands as the girl scooped up a corsage and turned around with the intention of pinning it onto Saxon. He was as close to panicking as she’d ever seen him. He had one hand out and was trying to wave the girl off when the doors in front of them opened and let out a blare of music. Saxon looked up, momentarily distracted, and the girl swooped in. She had the star lily pinned to his chest in a flurry of motion before she retreated beyond Saxon’s reach.
“Good luck!” she said as the sound of “Blue Hawaii” was filling the area. Ginger looked up and realized they were facing an Elvis impersonator in a room decorated like a nineteen fifties Hawaiian resort. The fact that it was a wedding chapel slapped Ginger right across the face in that you-thought-it-couldn’t-get-any-worse-and-somehow-it-did way. The passed out couple suddenly made perfect sense.
“Side door,” Saxon muttered under his breath.
“Right on your tail,” Ginger answered as they both tried to shimmy toward the door in question.
It opened before they made it even two steps. The man the sunlight flickered off of made Ginger recoil. Her blood went icy as the memory of him snapping Kittens neck replayed across her mind with a sickening clarity.
“Go.” Saxon was shoving her through the open double doors, her heels pounding on the tile floor as she ran.
“Well now…” the Elvis impersonator said into a microphone. “Here’s a couple in a hurr-rr
-y!”
There was a round of laughter, drawing Ginger’s attention to the people watching. The room had stands that faced in so people could sit and watch. Beyond them, she caught a glimpse of a casino floor. People were moving from the gaming tables and into the stands as waitresses offered them free cocktails. The far side of the room was just glass, allowing people on the strip to look in.
Both she and Saxon were looking behind them but the man from the airport had stopped in the double doorway, his hand under his jacket. He was wearing a set of mirrored shades and a dark suit, but just as Saxon had said, he seemed to not want to kill her with so many witnesses on hand. Saxon was looking at their options and ended up coming to the same conclusion she did. He held her steady as he stood right in the middle of the room.
“Well now…” the Elvis impersonator drew out to the delight of those watching. “Is that the best man stuck in the doorway?”
“No,” Ginger said.
“He’s her ex-boyfriend,” Saxon declared.
There was a round of snickers from the audience.
“Hey, hey, hey…” Elvis declared. “This is a chapel of love. Looks like the lady has chosen and it isn’t you. Shove off before I call the heat.”
The man stood in the doorway, clearly not wanting to budge. He locked gazes with Saxon, but the flashing of the cameraman made him back up.
“Well now … let’s get this wedding started,” Elvis declared.
“Not a chance,” Saxon bit out.
The tone of his voice stunned her, and she felt her cheeks turning red as the crowd hooted with amusement.
Elvis cocked his head to one side and shot Saxon a look. “Well then my man, make way for the next couple.”
“Gladly,” Ginger growled as she started to move away.
But Saxon reached out and caught her elbows, pulling her to a stop as he jerked his head toward the window. The man was there, talking into his cell phone, but the look he aimed at her was pure intent. He wanted her dead.
She stumbled as she stepped back toward Saxon. He looked up, and she followed his example, seeing the cameras ringing them.
“Are we getting married?” Elvis pressed. “There’s a line of happy couples just a’ waiting…”
“Yes,” Saxon informed him.
Her eyes must have bugged out because he stepped toward her and grabbed her wrists. “Just breathe honey.”
She dug her fingernails into his forearms in response. Saxon’s eyes narrowed and he gave a jerk of his head toward the man waiting to kill her. The crowd was chanting at them now.
“Tie the knot … tie the knot … tie the knot!”
They were working themselves up into a frenzy, the cocktail waitresses flocking in to take orders and make tips while they were in the mood to party. Sensing a profit opportunity, Elvis hit a pose and cupped his hands around the microphone.
“I think these folks need a song!” There was a round of drums as the band kicked in. “Well it’s one for the money … two for the show … three to get ready … now go…”
The crowd surged to its feet, shouting encouragement, as Elvis worked his moment of fame. Ginger scooched back, giving the entertainer room, but Saxon didn’t let her go far. He pulled her up against his side, locking her in place with an unmovable arm. “We move and we’re dead. The only thing keeping us alive is all these people. My men will find us, I’ve got a tracking beacon on me,” he whispered in her ear.
“Great, I hope Elvis has a second song.”
But she wasn’t going to get that lucky. Elvis finished up with a flourish to the delight of the crowd. The room was full of applause and whistles that the impersonator enjoyed before it died away. He watched as people tossed money into his tip jar, flashing them his killer smile before he returned his attention to them.
“So now … let’s tie the knot.”
“Why don’t you sing again?” Ginger suggested.
Elvis flashed her a smile and a grin. “One song a wedding,” he declared. “But if you’ve got cold feet, there’s another couple waiting behind you.”
The crowd made it clear they expected a show. Elvis pointed a remote at the two doors that opened onto the strip and they popped open when he pressed the button. “Thanks for dropping in!”
“We’re getting married,” Saxon said.
Ginger felt her eyes bugging out again. “Are you crazy?”
“I’d say he’s smart…” Elvis cooed. “Because you have it going on!” he made an hourglass with his hands, and the crowd hooted with delight.
Saxon was still beside her. She felt his breath in her hair and felt his arm tighten around her waist. “Got a better idea?”
She didn’t.
“Well now, let’s get this party rollin’.”
Elvis smoothed back his hair, the black wave settling back into place, proving his hairstylist was worthy of whatever price they were getting.
“Just step over here…” Elvis instructed Saxon.
It meant putting his back to the windows, and Ginger watched him flinch. She wasn’t sure when she decided to do it, answer the impulse to ease the tension in him but she stepped over to the spot and faced Saxon.
The impersonator didn’t say a word, just winked. “Take hands.”
They both froze, staring at each other like a pair of startled raccoons.
“Dearly beloved…”
Saxon looked beyond her, his jaw tightening, telling her the man was still there. Her mouth went dry when she realized they were in fact getting married.
“Now … hold hands … Here come the vows.”
Elvis was completely in his role, drawing out the words in Southern, king of rock-and-roll fashion. She really should have been able to laugh it all off or at least take it in stride, but the topic of “marriage” was stuck in her throat like a rock. He looked beyond them, tilting his ear as he listened to someone talking into a small security earplug.
“Seems we don’t have a license folks…”
The crowd booed. Elvis lifted his hands. “Never fear … the King has everything you need.”
There was a fanfare from the band as a man came forward. He had a bemused look on his face as he reached them. “Identification.”
He had a tablet in hand and looked far too official for Ginger’s fraying nerves. She chanced a look over her shoulder but tall, dark, and murderous was still there.
“Have we changed our minds?” Elvis asked. “Because—”
“You’ve got a line,” Saxon cut the impersonator off. “I heard you the first three times.”
“Hey man, just doing my job,” Elvis said under his breath. “It’s dammed hard to hold onto work in this town. Now are you two doing this or not? I get paid by the ceremony.”
The gloves were off. Saxon’s jaw was tight, and she was pretty sure she would have heard his teeth grinding if it hadn’t been for the strains of “Blue Hawaii” playing in the background. Elvis wasn’t intimidated. Saxon looked past her and bit back a word as he dug out his wallet. The clerk checked his identification as the crowd applauded.
“He’s good,” the clerk announced, earning another burst of approval from those watching.
Ginger felt her belly do a flip. He wasn’t married, but he was about to be, to her.
She was rotten to the core, a flop of a human being. He was protecting her.
“She’s good.”
Ginger snapped back into the moment and realized Saxon had pulled her identification out of his wallet. The clerk was tapping something into his pad and a moment later, the girl who had given them the flowers was walking toward Elvis with a newly printed sheet. The clerk took it, gave it a last read before signing and sealing it.
“Is that—?”
“A marriage license?” Elvis interrupted her. “It certainly is!” He held it up to the delight of the audience.
Elvis let the crowd hoot and cheer for a long moment before he sang a few notes into the microphone to quiet them down.
“W
ell now … let’s get to the main event,” he cooed.
Ginger recoiled, her pumps banging against the polished floor. Saxon reached out and clasped her wrists, pulling her to a halt.
“Repeat after me…” Elvis address Saxon. “I, Saxon Norman Hale, take thee, Ginger Melody Boyce to be my lawfully wedded wife…”
He couldn’t actually say it …
But Saxon opened his mouth and spoke his vows. He had a near death grip on her wrists, holding her still as his voice filled her ears. She honestly thought she was going to pass out because she was holding her breath. It wasn’t the grip; it was the look in his eyes. A glittering, intense light that made her feel like he enjoyed knowing he was binding himself to her.
Which was ludicrous.
“Now, repeat after me…” Elvis put the thumbscrews to her.
Saxon’s eyes narrowed when she didn’t speak up. There was something in his eyes that slapped at her, making her jump and draw in a deep breath. She avoided thinking too closely about just what exactly she’d seen because in her shocked state, she was imagining things. Like the fact that he looked hurt by her hesitation.
She felt tongue-tied and nervous in that moment, like she was taking a leap and just hoping the net would be there to catch her.
Saxon slowly stroked the back of her hands, sending a jolt up her arms as she absorbed how strong and steady he was. At some point, he’d stepped closer, making her tip her head back to maintain eye contact.
“Marry me, Ginger.”
She drew in a second breath and used it to speak. Her voice was less than smooth, but her vows came out anyway.
“So sweet…” Elvis cooed. The crowd had settled down, several soft sounds of approval coming from the women.
The blood was roaring in her ears and her gaze was glued to Saxon’s. It felt like his grip on her wrists was like a set of jumper cables and Elvis was making ready to turn the juice on.