SEALed Bride: A Bad Boy Romance (Includes bonus novel Jerked!) (5 page)

I
didn’t know what the heck I was doing as I walked down the hotel’s hallway.

I nervously tugged at my skirt, biting my lip, as I approached room number 234. I stared at the door and had the sudden, violent urge to run away, very, very fast.

I couldn’t believe I was seriously there. I couldn’t believe I was inches away from knocking, moments away from getting involved with a dangerous, attractive stranger.

And he was a stranger, despite having seen him on television and online for months. I didn’t know a thing about him, and really I had only skimmed his book for the most basic information. Maybe all the tabloid stuff was a lie and he was actually a really good guy. Or maybe I was going to be thrown into something I couldn’t understand with a man I was afraid I couldn’t resist.

But as much as I hated it, I needed the money. He definitely could pay me, considering how famous he was and how many books he was selling. And one million dollars was going to go a long way for my family, really ease their burden as much as possible.

I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to get involved with Nash, or lie to the media, or lie to my parents. But I knew that if I could just stick it out for the rest of his book tour, then I could give my parents the money and they’d understand. I knew they’d understand.

They had to understand.

As I stood there staring at the door, the war inside me continued to rage. But really, I had come this far. All I had to do was knock on the door and go inside, and I was sure that Nash would do the rest.

I reached up and knocked.

My heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t believe I was there, that I was really knocking. Part of me still thought that it was some complicated ploy to get me into bed.

The door swung open. “That was fast,” he said, and then stopped and looked at me.

“Am I too late?” I asked him.

He grinned hugely. “No. You’re right on time.” He moved aside. “Come on in.”

I walked into his hotel room, not sure what I expected. Inside it was relatively neat and clean, though for some reason I expected him to have stuff thrown all over the place.

“Have a seat,” he said. “I have food and drink coming, if you’re interested.”

“Thanks,” I said, sitting down at the table next to his bed.

“Not much, but it does the trick.” He sat down across from me.

“What?”

“The hotel room. Publisher went cheap with it for some reason.”

“Oh,” I said, looking around. “It’s nice.”

He laughed. “You’re nervous.”

I looked at him again, biting my lip. He was wearing a tight white T-shirt and jeans, an outfit I was much more familiar with. I could see tattoos snaking up his arms along his muscular biceps. His piercing green eyes were smiling at me, staring directly at me, and his mouth was pulled up into a delicious and maddening grin.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” I said.

“You’re here to marry me.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

“I have to admit, I’m a little surprised you showed up.”

“I’m a little surprised, too.”

He leaned forward on his elbows. “So tell me, Selena, why did you show up?”

For a second I was lost in his eyes, his lips. I quickly shook my head. “Money. I’m here for the money.”

“One million. Like we agreed.”

“Can you really pay?”

He laughed and stood up, walking over to his nightstand. He grabbed his phone and began tapping at the screen. He turned and showed it to me.

It was a bank account. Clearly listed in the savings was over a million dollars.

“Why the heck do you have this much money in the bank?” I asked, shocked.

“Where else would I keep it?” he grunted.

“Investments. Property. I don’t know, but I do know you shouldn’t just have that kind of cash sitting around.”

He laughed again. “I told you, I don’t give a shit about the money. But that’s enough proof that I can pay, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

He tossed his phone onto the bed and sat back down. “So, should we talk terms?”

“Okay,” I said, nodding.

“First, you can’t tell anyone the truth. Not your best friend, not your parents, not some stranger on the internet. Understood?”

“Okay,” I said, nodding.

“Next, you have to maintain the illusion as faithfully as possible. That means we sleep in the same room, maybe we kiss for the cameras, hold hands, all that shit.”

“No sex,” I said quickly.

He smirked. “No sex,” he agreed. “Contractually, at least.”

“This is all business, Nash.”

“Of course. All business.” He leaned back in his chair, appraising me. “Think you can handle this so far?”

I nodded, my heart beating fast. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Last condition. You get paid if and only if we make it through the entire book tour without getting caught. If someone figures out the truth, then you don’t get paid. If you tell someone on the last night, you don’t get paid. Understood?”

I nodded. “Sounds fair.”

“Okay then. That’s it for me.” He smiled. “Anything you want to add?”

“Just one thing. No sex,” I said. “I can handle the fake relationship stuff, the kissing and hand holding and all that, but when the doors are closed, we’re just business associates.”

“No sex,” he agreed. “I’m not interested in forcing you to fuck me if you don’t want to.”

“One last thing,” I said. “I need you to make me understand why you want this marriage thing, because right now I think you might be an insane person.”

He laughed, leaning back. “If you think I’m insane, why are you here?”

“Like I said, I’m here for the money.”

“Fair enough.” He paused for a second, thinking. “Simple, really. I told you some of it already. The publisher has me by the balls, and I’m not a fan of that.”

“So how does marrying me help?”

“Because I need to get my shit together and play by their rules. That’s going to be your job.”

I stared at him. “So I’m your babysitter?”

He laughed. “Not exactly. I have enough of those. No. Your job is exactly what I described, no more or less.”

I sighed. “You think that if you’re married, you’ll somehow stop acting like an ass.”

“Something like that, sure,” he said, laughing again.

I wanted to say something else, but there was a knock at the door. Nash stood up and opened it. The room service guy brought in a tray and placed it at the end of the bed, not sparing me a second glance. Nash tipped him and then closed the door behind him as he left.

“Hungry?” he asked. There was steak and whisky on the cart.

“No, thanks.”

“I suggest you eat,” he said. “Because when we’re done here, we’re getting on a plane.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“You and me, babe, we’re flying to Vegas.”

“Why?” I asked, surprised. “When?”

He picked up his glass of whisky and shot it back. “As soon as I’m finished with this steak.”

“But I don’t have any clothes or anything like that.”

He shrugged. “I’ll buy you new things.”

I frowned. “I can’t let you do that.”

“You’re about to be my wife,” he said. “I have to be able to buy you presents.”

“But why Vegas?”

He laughed, sitting down with the steak in front of him and digging in. “You didn’t think we were getting married at the Philadelphia courthouse, did you?”

“I didn’t think about it,” I admitted.

“No, we’re getting married in Vegas, baby.” He grinned hugely at me. “We’re doing this right, so get ready for a wild ride.”

I sat back, letting the shock roll over me. I hadn’t prepared myself to leave that night, but he had a point.

And I was committed to this. I could tell this wasn’t just some crazy prank or something like that. Nash may have been dangerous and seductive, but he wasn’t a psychopath. He was in a bad situation and wanted to find his own way out of it.

So we were going to Vegas. In about ten minutes.

Things were moving fast, and I had a feeling they were going to move faster still.

I
stepped out of the hotel room door and checked the hallway. Selena followed me, moving quietly, as we went to the stairwell. I pushed open the door and we went down the steps, moving fast and quiet.

I had my single duffel bag, but Selena had nothing. We might get some strange looks at the airport, but that shit didn’t matter. I was famous enough that I could get away with running around with some pretty young girl.

My night sure had taken an interesting turn. There I was having just jerked my cock off thinking about Selena’s incredible body when she just showed up. I hadn’t expected it, but I was glad she did.

And now I was going to marry the girl. Not for real, of course. Selena was all business, and I liked that about her.

It fucking turned me on. The girl was a challenge, a little uptight, a little scared. I wasn’t going to pressure her into anything, but I had a feeling that by the time the tour was over, I’d have her body in the palm of my hand, her ready to let me get her off over and over again.

We went down the staircase, trying to stay quiet. I couldn’t risk running into Livy and having her somehow try to talk me out of it, or maybe threaten me with the publishers again. So we were going the back way, like I was back on a mission.

I glanced back at her and smiled. She looked nervous as hell, maybe even a little frightened, but I could tell she was excited too. I had her pegged as a do-gooder, but maybe she really was wilder than I had initially thought.

Which could be good or bad, depending. My fucking hard cock was definitely not a good thing if we were going to try to keep our relationship professional.

But I couldn’t get too hung up on that just yet. First, we had to sneak out and get on a damn plane.

I stopped once we reached the bottom of the staircase. “Stay here,” I said to her.

“Why?”

“I need to make sure there aren’t any paparazzi.”

“Seriously?”

I nodded, frowning. “Seriously. The rats follow me around.”

“Okay. Be fast.”

I grinned at her and then pushed through the door, moving fast and low toward the first car I saw.

I stayed there for a few minutes, taking in the parking garage. There was no movement that I could see, and the cars all looked empty. At least there was nobody rushing to try to take my picture just yet. I stood up to get a better view.

Still empty. I turned and pushed open the door. “Come on.”

She followed me back out into the parking garage and we followed the wall, sticking away from the center aisle, trying to stay in the shadows.

She did a good job keeping up with me. I was hustling, moving fast, trying to minimize our chances of getting caught. It felt like a mission again, and I loved the adrenaline racing through my veins. Although, if we got caught, our punishment would be photographs, whereas my old missions were all life or death.

Still, it felt good to be sneaking around again, putting my training to use. We moved down the wall and slowly wound our way upward toward ground level.

I paused and held my hand out, stopping Selena. I looked around the corner and saw the entrance to the garage just ahead, with the street beyond.

That was our chance. Once out in the street, nobody was going to find us. We’d grab a cab or an Uber and get the hell out of there.

Except standing right next to the garage entrance were two paparazzi. They thought they were being slick by hiding their cameras, but it was obvious what they were. They stood there in too-plain clothing, smoking cigarettes, with huge cups of coffee next to them. Normal people didn’t drink tons of coffee late at night and hang around parking garages.

I turned to Selena. “The two guys up there are paparazzi, so we need to get around them.”

“How?” she asked.

I frowned and began to work on it. The garage had only one entrance, and we couldn’t just go up through the lobby. There were absolutely paparazzi lingering up there.

And then I had an idea.

“Nobody knows you yet, right?” I said to her.