Ella’s heart thudded in her chest. He was right, of course. She didn’t know. She was very conscious of the knowledge she had no identification, no history, and no money. She was Princess Antonella Maria Rossi, and she had never been prepared for living her life on her own.

Oh, she’d watched television and movies. She’d combed the internet for information, though carefully because her aunt and uncle watched her and knew which sites she visited. She’d learned that lesson the hard way. They’d taken away her access for a month when she’d dared to visit the US government site on citizenship and becoming naturalized.

After that, she was careful what she searched for. She watched mindless shows on Netflix, but they weren’t totally mindless because they showed her what it was like to work for a living. How to go about renting an apartment, paying bills, getting a license and driving.

She knew they weren’t entirely accurate, but it gave her a picture. And then there were the home shows on HGTV. Oh, how she loved to watch those couples buy homes and renovate them together. It was a hopeful thing to shop for a home with a man, to buy it and turn it into a place where you were happy together. She loved those shows like she loved this pasta.

She took another bite and tried not to moan her happiness. She wasn’t quite successful. Cash’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything.

She’d asked him if all American men were like him. He hadn’t given her an answer, but she was pretty certain the answer was no. He was big and muscular, but he didn’t frighten her. Not like her uncle’s security forces did. That man earlier today—he’d run her off the road and then yanked her from the car as if she were nothing.

He’d fully intended to throw her over his shoulder and shove her in his car so he could return her to the estate, but Cash had driven up and ruined his plans. She could still see the angry look on Cash’s face, the way he’d sized up the man and her, and the odd way she’d been drawn to him.

He could have been a serial killer, but she’d known in her gut that he wasn’t. That leaving with him wasn’t a fatal choice. She’d taken the risk and now here she was, wrapped in clothes that smelled like him and eating pasta that tasted as delicious as anything she could remember.

She was happier than she’d been in a very long time. And that was pitiful in a way. But she was. Pasta and small talk during a heavy rainstorm was heaven compared to the past few days of preparing for the sheikh’s arrival.

Cash was still watching her and she realized he was waiting for an answer. But she didn’t have one to give him. So she made something up, because she had to.

“I have a friend in California. I’m going to stay with her.”

His gaze narrowed. “California. How do you know this person?”

She’d said California because it was the first place that popped into her mind. The Real Housewives of Orange County, of course. Ella swallowed her bite of pasta.

“We met online. She’s married and has a big house where I can stay until I figure out what I’m doing.”

“I thought you said you had to think about it overnight.”

Ella resisted the urge to lick her lips. “I am thinking about it. But you said you didn’t think I had a plan. I do, but it’s not fully formed yet.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Okay. Let me know when you have it together.”

He stood and took his empty plate to the sink. Ella finished the pasta, no matter that she was already full, and ate another slice of bread for good measure. Cash did the dishes while she ate. She watched his backside, the strong lines of his body, the flex and give of muscles that had been honed to perfection.

When he finished washing dishes, he turned to her. “Are you done?”

She looked down at the empty plate and the bowl of pasta still in front of her. But she was full. Eating another whole plate of pasta wasn’t happening.

“Yes. Thank you,” she said as he took the plate and went to wash it.

She buttered another slice of bread and ate it slowly, savoring the flavors. She managed not to moan, however.

He put the dishes on the drying rack, hung the towel, and turned back to her. His face made her heart skip. So handsome. Like a movie star.

“What do you do, Cash?” Because she didn’t know, and she could suddenly see him swaggering across a movie screen.

“I rescue people,” he said without a touch of irony. And then he continued. “I’m a Navy SEAL. Special Ops,” he added when she felt as if she’d frowned for too long.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I rescue people.”

This time he smiled, and she couldn’t help but smile too. “You drive around looking for people to rescue?”

“Not precisely,” he said. “More like I get sent to war zones to get people out.”

She frowned. “And today?”

“Today I was on my way here. To fish. You were a bit of a surprise.”

“I’m sorry.” But she wasn’t. She was glad he’d found her. Glad it had been him who’d happened upon the scene. If not for Cash, she’d be in Sheikh Fahd’s arms right now. Perhaps they’d only be dancing, still playing the part for the guests, but she would have dreaded what was coming.

Sheikh Fahd wasn’t unattractive. Not really. He was a bit older than she was, but that was nothing. It was just that he didn’t do anything for her. There was something about the way he leered at her. The clammy feel of his palms against her skin. The word defiled sprang to mind.

And then there was the fact she hadn’t chosen him.

“I couldn’t leave you there. It’s not who I am.”

Her insides warmed. As if he’d poured hot honey over her. “I’m glad for that. You saved my life.”

He glanced at his watch as if embarrassed. Or maybe he just didn’t know how to respond. “It’s still early, but I’m afraid television is out of the question with this storm. Satellite won’t work.”

“That’s okay,” she said, nodding toward the bookshelves. “I like to read.”

“So do I.”

“Favorite author?”

“Tolkien.”

She nodded. “The Lord of the Rings. I loved that.”

“Who’s your favorite?”

A blush crept over her. “I like romance novels.”

“Those aren’t real,” he said automatically.

“And Lord of the Rings is?”

He had the grace to look perplexed. “No, of course not. But nobody’s in danger of thinking it is, are they?”

“Meaning that women are more likely to think romance novels are real, right? That we can’t distinguish between real life and fantasy?” She shook her head vigorously. “I assure you I know the difference. Romance novels are how we wish the world worked—how we wish men really were—but I’m pretty sure the reality I’ve endured is closer to the truth. The men my uncle hired are interested in rewards and keeping their jobs. Sheikh Fahd is interested in having a virginal wife. My uncle—well, who knows what he wants, but it’s not heroic, believe me. And you?” she added. “You saved me, but not because you were violently attracted to me and knew I was the one. You did it because it’s what you do. You have said as much.”

---

Cash had to admit she shocked the shit out of him. But she wasn’t wrong. For a woman who seemed to have so little experience of the world, she was surprisingly wise at times. In spite of her words, he wasn’t so sure that she really meant them though. In his experience, there were definitely women who thought romance novels were templates for real life. He’d encountered a few of them, women who’d swooned when they learned he was a SEAL. They had ideas about SEALs, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for him. Got him laid.

But then reality set in when they started wanting more than sex. He’d ruined the marital fantasies of more than a few. Then there were the ones who claimed he’d gotten them pregnant. That had only happened twice, but he’d shut them down quick. It hadn’t been true anyway. They weren’t pregnant at all, and certainly not with his baby. He was careful. Super careful because he knew what happened when parents didn’t love each other. It wasn’t fair to the kid to be brought into that kind of dynamic, and he wasn’t about to be a party to that.

Now he was more cautious about getting involved at all. In fact, he never had sex with the same woman more than five times. It was a personal rule, and one that served him well.

“I doubt there are any romance novels here.”

“I’m sure I’ll find something. Maybe the words won’t be too big.”

He glanced at her sharply. She arched an eyebrow and then dropped her gaze. It took him a minute to process her lightning reaction. When he did, he wanted to laugh.

Ella Rossi wasn’t just a virgin on the run from her arranged marriage, she was also a smart-ass. How had that happened? She was sheltered and clearly out of her depth in some ways, but she didn’t let it define her.

“You need anything else? Dessert?”

She cocked her head toward him, her lips splitting in a sudden grin. Damn, he liked the way she looked in his shirt. Without all the makeup and the wet hair, she was stunning. Pretty in a way that made his balls tighten.

Whoa, boy. Virgin. Red alert.

“Dessert?” she repeated. “What do you have?”

What did he have? Hell, he didn’t know. He couldn’t remember. Cash opened the freezer. Oh yeah.

“Ice cream,” he said. “Vanilla or chocolate.”

“Mmm, vanilla with chocolate sauce?”

He imagined squeezing chocolate sauce over her nipples. Shit. “Yeah, I’ve got chocolate sauce.”

“Then I’d love some ice cream.” She stood. “I can get it. You don’t have to wait on me.”

He waved a hand at her. “Sit. It’s no big deal.”

He scooped ice cream into a bowl, poured on a generous squeeze of chocolate, and pushed the bowl toward her. She took it, curling her fingers around it and holding it against her breasts as she stood across from him.

She was small. About five-four, maybe a hundred and ten. Not tiny, but small. She dipped the spoon into the ice cream and lifted it to her lips. He didn’t expect the shot of arousal to his groin when she closed her eyes and moaned.

Damn, did this woman ever do anything else? All she’d done since he’d started feeding her was moan. The sound dug into his brain, made him imagine her moaning under other circumstances.

“It’s just ice cream,” he said a bit gruffly.

Her eyes popped open. “To you, maybe. I haven’t had ice cream in months.”

Her aunt. Of course. Now that was a woman he’d like to horsewhip. Ella could have afforded a few pounds on her slight frame.

“You can have as much as you want,” he told her.

“Thanks. But I think this will do. I haven’t eaten this much in forever.” She frowned slightly. “In fact, I’ll probably be sick. But oh well.”

“Don’t do that,” he said. “You can eat it tomorrow. For breakfast if you like.”

She spooned in another mouthful. “Nope, has to be now. My uncle could arrive in the middle of the night.”

Not on his watch. “It’ll take longer than a night.”

She grinned. “Then I’ll just eat more ice cream in the morning.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, you’re definitely going to be sick. Don’t expect me to clean up after you.”

She blinked. “Oh wow, I never thought of that.”

“You should since you’ll be cleaning it up.”

She ate another spoonful. “That’s okay. I’ll get a towel from the bathroom. It’ll be fine.”

He snorted. She shocked him and made him laugh at the same time. “You’re kinda crazy, Ella. Nobody purposely eats until they puke.” He frowned as a thought occurred to him. “Unless that’s your thing. Are you a binge eater?”

Her eyes widened. “Are you kidding me? I’ve never been allowed to binge on anything in my life.”

He was relieved. Binge eating was a serious disorder and could be life-threatening. Last thing he needed was for her to have a crisis out here. The closest hospital was over an hour away. And it was dark, wet, and there were people looking for his car. Not the best way to get help if she needed it.

“Maybe you shouldn’t start now,” he said. “Pace yourself.”

She pressed a hand to her belly after another bite of ice cream disappeared. “Whew, I am feeling rather full.” She set the bowl on the island. “Guess I’d better stop.”

“Wise decision.”

She sighed and tipped her head to the side once more. Then she smiled at him. He didn’t think she had any idea how sexy a gesture it was on her, but then again he didn’t really know her and she might know precisely how pretty and appealing she appeared. Her rich dark hair hung in a long silky curtain to where she propped her elbows on the island. Her eyes sparkled.

“Thanks for dinner. It was amazing.”

“You’re welcome.”

A wrinkle formed on her forehead. “I should be scared of you, but I’m not. I don’t know why I feel safe, but thanks for that too.”

“You’ll be safe so long as you’re with me. I swear it.”

Her voice was soft. “I know I will.”