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Rina sat in her chair and watched the exchange, remembering similar words he’d spoken to her years ago. Only that time she’d been the one leaving.
The slow-blooming smile and easy laugh made her gut turn with nerves. She wasn’t entirely sure whether she wanted him to see her or hoped he’d not even notice her. Their past was complicated…and he’d always had the ability to unsettle her, make her question things about her life and herself that were better just left alone.
“You remember Rina, don’t you?”
Sadie walked a couple steps toward her, forcing Chase to follow her down and around the other patrons sitting at the bar.
“Of course I remember Sabrina.” The force of his gaze slammed into her chest, making her forget to breathe. “How could I forget?”
Indeed. It was the only damn word her brain would form. Where was her normal quick wit? That unfailing facade of hard-assed competence she was universally known for? At the moment, the only thing she could concentrate on was the unforgiving throb of awareness pulsing at the base of her spine.
“Are you in town to visit Sadie?”
“No. I live here.”
“Really?” Chase cocked his head to the side and studied her for several seconds. She fought the urge to squirm under his gaze. He had the ability to make her feel naked and vulnerable without even trying.
She didn’t do vulnerable. She’d worked hard over the past six years to build a life and career that she was proud of—that her father could be proud of. She was smart, controlled, independent and she certainly didn’t care what this man thought of her…even if the hum in her blood called her a liar.
“Listen, I’d love to catch up with you. Would you like to have a drink?”
No. Yes. “I don’t want to interrupt. It looks like you’re here with your friends.”
Chase’s lips turned up in a self-deprecating smile, glancing over his shoulder at the group of men behind them. “They’ll get over it. Besides, the chance to spend time with a beautiful woman is more important.”
Rina had no idea where the word came from. The last thing she wanted to do was resurrect any part of the past with this man. But somehow “Sure” came out instead of No thanks.
SEVERAL HOURS and a few drinks later, Rina found herself walking down the strip next to Chase. They’d stopped at a couple of places. Played a few hands of blackjack.
She wasn’t drunk. Really. She never, ever allowed herself to drink too much. She was just pleasantly…pleasant.
If anything, she was intoxicated by the heat of Chase, the way her body tingled from the mere touch of his palm to her back as they strolled down the strip. She was drunk on the power of knowing he was as attracted to her now as he had been six years ago.
It had been that way from the start. Their connection. His effortless effect on her body and the automatic override he had on her brain. With Chase, she felt, acted, was a different person.
Oh, she knew—like she’d known six years ago—that nothing substantial could come of the sizzle between them. She wouldn’t risk that kind of attachment…not with Chase. Not now. Not when he was leaving for risk and death and macho feats of heroism.
But she could have this one night. This one chance to slake the physical ache thrumming low in the center of her body. In a few days he’d be gone and she’d never see him again.
The normal Rina, the perfect Rina, the live-by-the-code-of-military-conduct Rina wouldn’t approve. But she’d gotten lost somewhere tonight and the adventurous Rina wanted to feel the slide of Chase’s skin against her own.
He looked down at her with heat-glazed eyes full of appreciation and the center of her stomach seemed to disappear. She had to look away. Either that or go up in flames in the middle of the Las Vegas sidewalk.
A bright display of flashing colors caught Rina’s attention. Blinking neon wasn’t unusual, not on the strip, but the words in shiny pink were.
Fake Vegas Weddings
Punk Your Friends and Family
“Oh my God! How funny.”
Tugging on his elbow, she headed straight for the sign, pulling him behind her. It was attached to a strip of shops. One of them was a tacky, touristy place where you could dress in a costume and have your picture taken. It was attached to a low-rent version of the obligatory Las Vegas wedding chapel.
It was something she’d seen a thousand times. But this place was hocking a different angle. This place was for all the people who went on vacation with the ring of their family’s and friends’ warnings in their ears: Don’t you dare come back married.
Through the window she could see an array of costumes—Southern belle hoop skirts, Confederate solider uniforms, pirate outfits, kilts. Throughout the room there were several sets to correspond with the outfits—an old-timey portrait backdrop, the bow of a ship, the jagged edge of highland mountains.
And an arched white trellis covered with roses and a sign that read, Elvis Available Upon Request.
“That’s so tacky.” She swirled around to face him, a huge smile on her face.
“What? You don’t want Elvis at your wedding?”
Rina scoffed. “I don’t think so.”
Turning back, her hands splayed across the glass as she leaned in for a closer look. Chase bunched up behind her. She could feel the heat of him at her back, soaking through the satisfying haze of wine and her light cotton sweater.
“Let’s do it.” His words rumbled low against her ear.
“Do what?” She knew exactly what she wanted to do with him.
“The Elvis wedding.”
“What?” That wasn’t what she’d had in mind.
“Come on. Marry the soldier before he goes to war.” Chase leaned down over her body as she watched his reflection in the glass. His bigger-than-life smile. That mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He was so different than she was. So…daring.
She shouldn’t.
His arms tightened around her waist, dragging their bodies closer together. Rina fought the urge to let herself lean against him, the desire to have him kiss along the nape of her neck. Tonight she’d left her hair uncharacteristically down. She always seemed to be in uniform, but the upswept, severe style required by the air force did have its advantages. Unconsciously, she dipped her head to the side, making her hair fall away.
His breath caressed her exposed skin as his fingers brushed against the outside curve of her arm, sending a shudder down her spine.
“It might be fun.” Her words sounded fast and shallow. Right now she’d agree to anything, if only he’d move closer.
“Just promise me you won’t send the pictures to the General. I do not want to be responsible for his heart attack.”
She laughed as his reflection in the window pulled a grimace. She could understand. It probably wouldn’t be good for his career to piss off a major general, even if he was stationed half the country away at Tyndall.
“I promise.”
Chase backed away, and Rina ducked under his arm as he held open the door for her. A bell rang out through the space. Within a minute a woman materialized from the back.
“Can I help you?”
Chase answered, “We’d like the wedding package please, complete with Elvis.”
God, what was she doing? The thought of a wedding—even a joke wedding—was sending her heart rate skittering a little too fast.
Most girls grew up with the fantasy of their wedding in their heads—white dresses, fragrant flowers, flickering candles. Not her. She’d grown up with the memories of her parents screaming, the experience of her mother’s funeral, the idea that two people could make each other so miserable they self-destructed…and took their child’s sense of security with them.
“Just fill out these forms for me. Feel free to pick out a gown and tux from over there when you’re done.”
The woman placed several pieces of paper before them. Rina stared down at the tiny boxes. The little lines wavered for a moment before straightening out again.
Chase shifted closer, planting one foot between her own spread feet. The heat from his body fractured the thoughts racing through her head. He felt so good against her.
What was she thinking about? Oh, the wedding. But it was just a joke. Nothing more. Besides. She was being reckless, fearless Rina for once.
Looking down, she started to fill out the paperwork.
“Constance. I didn’t realize your middle name was Constance.” His chest brushed against the curve of her back, his hand snaking around the circle of her waist to hold her flat against him. Her throat went tight at the sensation.
“That’s because I don’t like it. My father picked it. It was my aunt’s name.” Her words were forced, breathy. She sounded like someone else, some seductive siren—someone she’d never been or could be.
“You’re right. I like Sabrina much better.”
“I don’t like Sabrina either…it was my mother’s middle name. No one calls me Sabrina.” Not since her mother had left when she was five. That’s when the General had begun to call her Rina.
He stared down at her with a heat that had her knees melting out from under her. “Maybe someone should.”
Thank God for the counter.
Maybe she should take a step back before she jumped him right on top of the glass. That was taking reckless too far.
“Done.” Smacking her pen on top of the papers, Rina turned and headed for the dresses hanging on the far wall. She needed to get away from him for a minute, to breathe some air that wasn’t permeated with Chase. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t the sort of woman to contemplate grabbing a man and devouring him in public.
Whipping through the rack, she picked the first one that was her size, headed for the dressing room and pulled it on.
Despite contorting herself into a pretzel, she could not get the zipper up. Yelling out, “Can you zip me,” she headed into the small room between the dressing areas, holding the strap-less number to her chest.
Chase walked out of the other side, dressed to kill from head to toe. The tux he wore might not have been designed specifically for him, but it came pretty damn close to fitting perfectly. Uniforms were great and all, but Rina had a thing for a man in a tux. For this man in a tux.
Presenting her back to him, she held her breath, hoping to slow the rhythm of her roaring heart. He just stood there for several moments. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her back, traveling the length of her naked spine. Goose bumps ghosted up her skin. Beneath her shielding arm her nipples tightened and swelled.
The soft tread of his feet on worn linoleum should have been a warning, but when his fingers touched the small of her back she jumped anyway. She gulped in a large lungful of air, too much, because it rushed straight to her head, making the room waver. A single finger trailed a featherlight line across the indentation at the base of her spine. It took her a minute to realize what he was doing, her brain having malfunctioned at the spike of electricity from his touch.
“Somehow I didn’t take you for the fairy type.”
Rina turned her head, knowing she couldn’t see the tiny picture tattooed on her lower back but trying anyway. Most of the time she forgot it was even there.
“Bout of rebellion the year I graduated high school. It is a little fanciful for me, which is probably why I got it in the first place.”
Chase took another step closer, the heat of his body warming her skin.
“Oh, I don’t know. You have a whimsical side. I’ve seen it.” His fingers trailed slowly up the curve of her spine. She felt the sting and sizzle at the apex of her thighs as his knuckles scraped over each bump and valley.
“How many men have you let see—” his fingers moved down again, lightly brushing across the picture on her skin before dipping down into the still-open dress to brush the upper swell of her bottom “—that side of yourself?”
Rina drew in a deep, ragged breath before answering, “Enough.”
The woman bustled in. “Elvis is here, if you’re…I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s fine. Just let me get this zipper.”
Chase zipped her up before moving away. She wasn’t sure if it was relief or regret that washed through her. Probably a combination of both.
2
FOR A JOKE, their Elvis was seriously into his role. He didn’t break character once as the photographer posed them for several shots. In fact, he even insisted on reciting the marriage vows. Both Chase and Sabrina tried to explain it wasn’t necessary but the man didn’t pay attention. Finally, they just shrugged and played along.
The whole thing was over in ten minutes. Sabrina giggled; it was a sound he hadn’t expected. It clashed with the polished exterior she showed the world. But after seeing the fanciful fairy on her back…maybe that carefree sound was more her than he’d ever realized. He’d always pictured her as studious, serious.
But he’d instinctively known there was something beneath, something she wouldn’t let out…something she didn’t let free. He’d wanted so badly to rumple her up, to ruffle her calm facade. To leave her mouth swollen from kisses and her eyes bleary with desire just to prove to them both that the passion was there, waiting.
He’d given in to the urge once. And it had been much more than he’d expected. Six years ago she’d taken things slowly—fighting the connection they both knew existed between them. And then she’d been gone.
If the way she flirted, touched and looked at him tonight with those smoldering green eyes was anything to go by, Sabrina McAllister had changed. And she wasn’t fighting anything now. Pure animal lust shot straight to his groin at the thought.
Elvis said, “You may kiss the bride, baby.” And Chase found himself indulging in a fantasy six years in the making—kissing Sabrina McAllister. The sensation was somewhere close to pulling a Split-S.
The woman behind the counter handed them an envelope with several photographs. Chase paid for them—the damn things cost two hundred dollars. He hadn’t realized a joke could be so expensive. Although, he’d have paid a hell of a lot more than that for a chance to kiss her again.
They walked back out into the night together as she looked at the pictures. They were hilarious. And she was beautiful. Sabrina laughed at the expression on Elvis’s face, flipping through them quickly. Until she reached the last one, the one of their kiss, and she seemed to still.
The photographer was good. He’d captured every last speck of desire that had coursed through Chase’s lips and into Sabrina. Her body arched into the strength of his hold. Her fingers dug into the shoulders of his tux, drawing him closer. Just looking at the image fired his blood all over again.
Rina stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, pulling him still beside her. The city bustled around them. Even at this late hour no one was ready to let the night go. He certainly wasn’t.
Neither was she. Turning to face him, she said, “Kiss me again.”
He didn’t need a second invitation. Wrapping his arms around her, Chase pulled their bodies close. The world moved on without them. People passed by, talking. Neon lights blinked on and off. And a blast of noise from a nightclub down the street burst into the silence that had surrounded them.
But nothing mattered. Nothing except the feel of Sabrina against him. The heat of her lips beneath his. The heady scent of her, more intoxicating than the alcohol he’d drunk hours before.
Her hands grabbed onto the nape of his neck and tugged, tugged harder, needing more.
He obliged, opening his mouth wider, taking her in.
After several moments Sabrina pulled back, staring up at him with passion-filled eyes. Her chest rose and fell against his own with each ragged breath. His arms tightened, wanting to hold her closer. Feel her closer.
“Do you want to come back to my place?”
Her words whispered against his skin, coaxing him to make the quick, easy decision. But there was nothing easy about Sabrina. And there had certainly never been anything easy about their…attraction. And the fact that he would be leaving in less than three days made this much more complicated than it should have been.
Why could they never seem to get it right?
“No.”
