Chase recognized the place as soon as they entered, even before his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting inside. He’d been there before.

“Welcome to the Wedding Chapel.” The proprietor’s gaze zeroed in on the rings they wore. “You look like a happy couple. Are you looking to renew your vows? We offer a discount package for vow renewals.”

“No, thank you,” Maggie said. “We came to ask if you have a registry that lists the couples who’ve been married in this chapel.”

“Sí, señora. We do.” He led them to a large white book on a table near the rear of the chapel.

Chase knew what they’d find. He remembered being there. He remembered standing at the altar, facing Maggie in her red dress and a borrowed white veil. That memory came back to him with all the force of a freight train. He’d bought rings, married her, kissed her and signed the papers all in the matter of a few minutes.

Maggie bent over the book and dragged her finger down the page to the bottom. For a long moment, she stared at the two signatures on the line. “We really did it.”

“Yes, we did.” He didn’t tell her he remembered. Nor did he tell her how he’d felt at the moment he’d said I do, because he felt it all over again. That feeling of rightness. That this was a woman he could trust with his heart, and who would never leave him for another man because she was lonely and insecure. She was the one.

All those thoughts raced through his head as he stared down at his signature on the page.

And Maggie wanted to have their union annulled.

That knowledge made a hole in his chest where his heart should have been.

“What were we thinking?” Maggie stared at their signatures, shaking her head.

“Blame it on the tequila,” Chase muttered. He took her hand and led her toward the exit. On the wall beside the door leading out to the beach were photos of some of the couples who’d been married in the little chapel. Dead center was an instant photo of Maggie and Chase, just like the one they’d found in his hotel room. Maggie wore the red dress and a funny little white veil. He wore black trousers and the white polo shirt he’d worn on the flight from California to Cabo. They’d smiled for the camera, appearing like all the other couples posted on the wall—happy.

Why had they woken up completely devoid of these memories? Well, at least he could remember the wedding ceremony and kissing the bride. With her hand in his, he wanted to pull her into his arms and test that kiss again. If he did, would he recapture the feeling of rightness? Would she feel the same? And would it trigger her memory?

Maggie paused to study the photos. Chase knew the exact moment she spotted theirs. She stiffened, and a small gasp escaped her lips. “Just like the one in your room,” she whispered. “It wasn’t a prank.” By now, the reality of their marriage was etched in stone. The rings, the marriage certificate, signatures in the chapel registry and the photos would have been too much of a coincidence.

“That couple came in last night with a mile-long conga line.” The proprietor chuckled. “I pride myself in judging whether or not a couple’s marriage will stand the test of time. Those two were completely head-over-heels for each other. They’ll be together until death do they part.”

Maggie’s fingers tightened around Chase’s hand, but she didn’t pull free. “We should be going. Thank you for letting us in.”

“My pleasure. And remember, if you want to renew your vows, it’s half the cost of a wedding package.”

Maggie’s cheeks reddened, and she ducked her head.

The proprietor opened his arms wide. “We are here to help give a jumpstart to every couple’s dreams of marriage and happiness by taking the work out of wedding planning.”

Maggie slipped through the door and out onto the sand, still holding onto Chase’s hand. “We’re almost to La Casa Loca,” she said unnecessarily. Chase could clearly see the structure. “Do you think it’s safe to enter?”

He studied the building ahead. Tourists sat on the outdoor patio, drinking, eating and smiling happily. On the beach around the establishment, young people lounged in everything from speedos to bikinis and one-piece swimsuits. Mothers chased children into the waves, and families gathered around beach umbrellas to share sandwiches or to apply sunscreen. “I think it’ll be fairly safe during the light of day. But I would prefer you to stay outside in case my guy is inside, determined to take me down.”

Even before he finished his statement, Maggie was shaking her head. “We’ve been over this before. I’m just as much a target as you are, and you need someone watching your back. Besides, they won’t recognize us in these ridiculous disguises. The guy who married us sure didn’t.” She gave him a fake smile. “See? We’re just a couple of tourists, going into an establishment for a drink.”

Chase brushed a finger across her cheek. “You know, you’re pretty special.” Then he bent and touched his lips to hers in a feather-soft kiss. “I’m beginning to see why I married you so quickly.”

Maggie raised her hand to her lips. “Why did you do that?”

He grinned. “Do what? Do this?” Chase dropped another kiss on her lips. But it wasn’t enough. Before he could think through his actions, he pulled her into his arms and deepened the kiss. Oh, yeah. His lips couldn’t forget the sensation of her mouth against his.

Maggie stood still, her hands resting against Chase’s chest. When he started to pull away, she curled her fingers into his polo shirt and dragged him closer.

Chase obliged, happy to kiss this woman, hoping she would remember at least part of the night before.

He swept his tongue across the seam of her lips.

Maggie opened her mouth on a sigh, giving Chase the opportunity to dart in and caress her tongue in a long, sensuous kiss.

For a long moment, they stood in the sand, frozen in time, kissing like long-lost lovers.

When at last Chase raised his head to take a breath, he leaned his forehead against hers. “I remember this.”

Maggie stared at his chest, the sunglasses shielding her eyes. Finally, she shook her head. “I don’t remember any of this.” Then she stepped backward, out of Chase’s embrace. “We need to move on if we’re going to discover what happened before your midnight rendezvous.” She set out across the sand at a brisk pace.

Chase hurried to catch up. When he reached for her hand, she brushed his aside and kept walking. What the hell? He could not have been mistaken by her earlier response. Maggie had returned the kiss with as much fervor as he’d given. What had he done wrong to deserve the cold shoulder now?

Maggie charged ahead, determined to get to the bar, learn what they could and get the hell out of the mess they’d landed in. She couldn’t believe she’d married a stranger within hours of meeting him. Not only would her father go ballistic, he’d likely hire a hit man to take out the man who’d dared marry his daughter so quickly. He’d be certain the man was after one thing only. Daddy’s money.

She’d have to remind her father that money alone didn’t ensure a marriage. Lloyd was proof of that. When it had come to the actual wedding ceremony, he’d skipped out with someone else rather than marry her.

Maggie frowned. Or had her father paid him off? Had he paid Lloyd to skip out on her wedding and go off with the wedding planner? The moment the thought came to her, it left. No. Her father had approved of Lloyd. He’d pushed for the marriage as much as she had.

Her father would disapprove of Chase immediately upon meeting him. The fact he hadn’t had a hand in selecting him for his daughter would play a huge part in that disapproval. Dwayne Neal, multimillionaire, liked to control everything about his daughter’s life. Perhaps that was why Maggie liked Gina so much. Her father hadn’t chosen Gina for her friend. They’d been friends since they’d met at a party in LA. Gina had come as a guest of a guest. It galled her father that he didn’t know Gina and couldn’t find enough dirt on her to keep her out of Maggie’s life.

Thank God, Gina had been there when her wedding day fell apart. She’d helped her out of her dress and into the red one, grabbed her suitcase and bundled them into a taxi before her father arrived to berate her for letting Lloyd slip away. He would have found a way to make it her fault that her fiancé had eloped with the wedding planner. He never understood when people didn’t do as he expected them to do.

Maggie didn’t go to great lengths to displease her father, but she found a bit of backbone and a rebellious streak running through her veins when her father cinched the reins too tightly. Perhaps that was one of the reasons she’d gravitated toward the handsome SEAL.

Her father wouldn’t have liked her hanging out with a man trained in combat. A man he hadn’t met and couldn’t control. Yeah, Daddy would be livid when he discovered she’d married someone other than Loser Lloyd.

As they neared La Casa Loca, Chase hooked his arm through Maggie’s and slowed her down. “We’re not in a race,” he said. “We’re tourists coming in for a drink at the bar.”

Maggie slowed her steps. “Right. Tourists. With a murderer wanting to off us for some reason we can’t remember.” She threw him a sideways grin, albeit a forced grin. “Got it.”

She liked the feel of his arm hooked in hers. Liked the hardness of his muscles up against her body. And she wondered, not for the first time—and probably not the last—what it felt like to make love with him. Try as she might, she couldn’t remember.

But she had remembered his kiss. Her core coiled and heated. No woman could forget a kiss like that. That kiss fired up the memories of a dance, ending in a similar kiss. She remembered the fire in her veins as he spun her around the floor, the way his hips moved to the rhythm of the music, and how he’d dipped her low to the ground, crushing his lips to hers in a searing kiss that left her panties damp and her heart pounding to the beat of the Latin music.

Even as she walked into the bar, her heart thrummed to that tune in her head, firing up her nerves and making her pulse beat hard in her ears.

Once inside, Maggie reached for her sunglasses, the dimness of the interior hard to make out.

“Might want to keep those on.” Chase covered her hands with his and guided the glasses back to perch on her nose. “Your eyes are unforgettable.”

“You managed to forget them,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, but I was drunk. We can’t expect La Casa Loca staff to have been in the same inebriated state last night. We’re better off if they don’t know who we are.”

“If we don’t want them to know who we are, how will we ask about last night?” Maggie asked.

“Leave it to me,” Chase said. He made a beeline for the bar and settled her onto a stool before sliding onto one himself.

The bartender took their orders and delivered a Salty Dog for Chase and a beer for Maggie.

“I would have pegged you for beer,” Maggie said.

“And I would have pegged you for a fruity drink.”

She lifted a shoulder. “I learned to drink beer in college.”

“And now I’m out of the military, I have to watch what I drink. I figure grapefruit juice is healthy, right?” Chase lifted his drink.

Maggie laughed. “The grapefruit juice, maybe. But the vodka, not so much.”

The bartender drifted off to wait on another customer. He returned a few minutes later. “Anything else?” he asked while wiping the counter with a cloth.

Chase smiled at the short, meaty Hispanic man. “We heard there was some excitement here last night.”

With a shrug, the bartender continued wiping.

Maggie gritted her teeth and waited for Chase to continue.

“Were you here?” Chase asked.

Again, the bartender shrugged.

After a quick glance around the bar, Chase leaned forward. “Was there a fight?”

The man nodded, glanced around the interior of the bar, just like Chase had a moment before, and leaned closer. “We had a visit from the Jalisco cartel. Raul Delgado, one of the leaders of the cartel got into a fight with a tourist. The tourist beat the shit out of Delgado. Delgado wouldn’t back down. He was very angry he’d been bested in front of his men.”

“Why didn’t his men stick up for him?” Maggie asked.

“They did,” the bartender said. “Only the tourist they targeted was a better fighter than Delgado and his men.”

“Good to know,” Chase said. “Does this cartel hang out here often?”

“Delgado likes to flirt with the pretty tourists,” the bartender said.

Maggie tilted her head. “The Cabo police don’t keep them out? I thought they were pretty good at protecting the tourism trade.”

The bartender snorted. “The last policeman who dared stand up to Delgado ended up hung from a bridge.”

Maggie swallowed hard. With all the nice trappings of the tourist hotels and resorts, there was a seedier side of Cabo San Lucas. And it appeared that seedier side was infiltrating the tourist haunts. “Do you know how many people are a part of the Jalisco cartel?”

“One, maybe two hundred,” the bartender said. “And that’s just in the Cabo area.”

Her belly knotted, and Maggie fought to stay upright. “Do they ever show up in the same place all at once?” she asked, her voice squeaking slightly.

The bartender’s eyes narrowed. “Why so much interest in the cartel? The cartels are part of life in Mexico. We learn to stay clear or give them the payola they demand to leave us alone.”

“Is that what you do? Pay the Jalisco cartel to leave you alone?” Chase asked.

A frown settled on the man’s thick brow. “You ask too many questions. If you don’t want another drink, you go. We don’t want trouble here.”

Chase slid an American one-hundred-dollar bill across the counter. “Thank you for your time.” He got up, helped Maggie off her bar stool and walked out of the bar.

“I remember what happened last night,” Chase said, his jaw tightening.

“Why is it you can remember, but I can’t?”

He touched a hand to his bruised cheek. “I remembered a Hispanic man hitting me. When that memory returned, I remembered why he hit me.”

Maggie stopped and faced Chase. “Why did he hit you?”

Chase cupped her elbow and steered her around the back of the building.

“Where are we going?”

“I need to know the layout of the building and surrounding area.”

Maggie dug her heels into the ground and stopped. “You’re not actually considering showing up for Delgado, are you?”

“If I want him off my back and yours, I may have to confront him.”

Her pulse quickened and her chest grew tight. “You heard the bartender. And you’ve seen news reports. Confrontations with the cartel don’t end up well.”

Chase didn’t look at her. He scanned the immediate vicinity, studying it as if committing every nook and cranny to memory. “He won’t leave us alone unless I show up here.”

“Then we should leave Cabo.” She touched his arm. “Now.”

“I have a feeling it won’t be an option. He probably has contacts at the airport. He had them at the hotel. He wants a piece of me and won’t be satisfied until he gets it.”

“So, you’re just going to march into a hive of cartel thugs? Alone and unarmed?” Maggie shook her head, her heart hammering, her mind spinning with the potential scenarios. “Why did you get into a fight with Delgado?” she asked. “You don’t strike me as someone who goes around picking fights with cartel members. Perhaps it’s all some big misunderstanding.”

A smile twisted into a grimace on Chase’s face. “What do most men fight over?”

“Money, cars, women?” Maggie lifted her hands, palms upward. “You name it.”

Chase chuckled. “Point taken. This time it was a woman.”

“A woman?” Maggie frowned, her fingers curling, her nails ready to dig into any woman who came close to Chase. “What woman?”

He turned to face her and lifted one of her hands. “You.”

The soft tone of his voice and the way he laced his fingers with hers made her weak-kneed and ready to fall into his arms. “Me?” she said, though the sound came out as more of a squeak than a word.

“You,” Chase repeated. “I hit the head, the bathroom, after so much beer and tequila. By the time I came back, Delgado had cornered you at the bar and was hitting on you.”

“But I wouldn’t have given him the time of day, if I’d just married you.”

“Apparently, you were trying to give him the brush-off, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. About the time I saw what was happening, he grabbed your arm.” He turned her palm up and pressed his lips to the life line at the center. “I distinctly recall the rush of blood through my veins and the heat about to explode out of my head.”

“You were jealous?” Maggie’s heart seized in her chest, and she held her breath, afraid to breathe until he answered.

“Raging jealousy. I recall it wasn’t a pretty feeling. I marched up to Delgado, clamped a hand to his shoulder and spun him around.”

Maggie gasped. “I’m surprised he didn’t stick a knife into you at that moment.”

“I didn’t give him time to think. I slammed him up against the bar and told him you were my wife and to leave you the hell alone.”

Her heart thrilled at Chase’s words and chilled at the same time. “Delgado could have killed you.”

“Oh, he took a swing and missed. Then he grabbed a bottle from the bar and hit me here.” Chase pointed to the bruise on his cheek. “I knocked the bottle out of his hand. It flew across the room and hit one of his cartel groupies.

“Sweet Jesus.” Maggie pressed a hand to her lips. “You really weren’t thinking.”

“Nope. I was in pure, primal reactionary mode. Someone was hurting my wife. I wouldn’t stand for it. Not on my watch.”

“So, is it true? You beat the shit out of Delgado?”

Chase grimaced. “I didn’t intend to, but he kept swinging. I blocked and swung back.”

“You really are insane,” Maggie said. “The bartender said Delgado’s people tried to help him, which means you fought more than one of them.”

“They tried. But I was in full kick-ass mode.”

“Wow. I suppose I should be grateful.” Maggie shook her head. “But you really set yourself up for retribution. You barely knew me. Why didn’t you just let me defend myself?”

“You were trying, but Delgado was dragging you toward the exit.”

“Well then, thank you,” Maggie said. Vague memories tugged at her mind but refused to solidify. “Do you think the bartender will let Delgado know we were asking questions?”

“If he does, I’m not worried about it. We need to know what we are up against. Delgado already knows. Apparently, he didn’t have as much to drink as we did last night.” He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m sorry I got you into this mess, but I’m going to get you out of it. I promise.”

“You didn’t get me into this mess. Delgado did that.” Maggie’s insides heated at the touch of Chase’s lips on her knuckles. “Sounds to me like Delgado was going to take off with me, whether I liked it or not.” She lifted his hand to the bruise on his cheek. “You saved me.”

“And put you into more danger by doing so.” He cupped her cheek in his palm and stared down at her.

His blue eyes were so blue, Maggie felt as if she could fall into them and never want to come back out. Yes, she could see how she fell for this man so quickly. He was every woman’s dream come true—he was handsome, he could dance, he was kind to old women, and he took on a drug cartel to save his woman. Her breath caught in her throat.

His woman.

And she was trying to get out of the marriage. Hell, she couldn’t hold him to the vows, knowing they were spoken while shit-faced drunk. He’d said it himself that he wouldn’t have married her had he been sober.

After all she’d learned about Chase, the thought of annulling their marriage didn’t hold the same appeal as it had a few hours earlier. To be fair, she had to. No man should marry when he was drunk. She’d been stone-cold sober when she’d considered marrying Lloyd, and that decision had been stupider than marrying a complete stranger after several rounds of tequila shots.

No matter. The marriage would be annulled before they left Cabo San Lucas. If they left in one piece. First, they had to get past the midnight deadline with Delgado, a badass affiliated with one of the most violent cartels in Mexico.