The Daredevil

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.