“Wow, Money,” Cowboy said after they’d gone through the security checks to get into the secure areas of HOT HQ.

They’d left Ella in the area of the building that housed the temporary quarters. Victoria Brandon, a contracted sniper to Alpha Squad, was with her. She was safe, but Cash had hated to leave her side. He could still see the fear in her eyes that she’d kept hidden from everyone else. But he knew it was there because he knew her.

An odd thought when he’d only known her a few days, but there it was.

“That woman,” Cowboy continued. “Holy shit, what a body.”

Cash tried not to be annoyed. Before Cowboy had gotten tangled up with Miranda, he and Cash had spent a lot of nights prowling the bars and clubs together. They assessed women frankly and appreciatively. Discussed tits, asses, and pussies—and what they intended to do with them—without a second thought.

But if Cowboy went there right now…

Cash stopped. Cowboy stopped. They stood in the middle of a darkened hallway with cameras bearing down on them, capturing every move they made. And every word too.

Cash turned and faced his teammate. His friend.

“Not another word, buddy. Not about her. Ella’s not one of the women you pick up in a bar. She’s a lady. A princess. And she’s my wife, so please don’t make me mop the floor with you for everyone in the control room to see.”

Cowboy’s jaw dropped open. And then he burst out laughing. Cash stiffened.

Until his friend backed up, both hands in the air, and shook his head. “Holy shit, Camel was right. You’ve fallen for her.”

Cash’s gut tightened. “What are you talking about? She’s a lady, that’s all. Don’t talk about her like she’s a slut. You wouldn’t talk about Miranda like that. Don’t do it about Ella either.”

Not that he had anything against sluts. God knew he was a man slut. Or had been. Until recently anyway. Would be again.

Maybe.

“Camel dared me. Sorry, man. No disrespect. None at all.”

Camel entered the corridor from behind them. He’d been talking to one of the guards back there and hadn’t gone through when they did.

“Motherfucker,” Cash said, spinning as Camel walked up. “You told him to say that?”

Camel’s grin spread ear to ear. “As much grief as you’ve given him over Miranda—I couldn’t resist. Sorry.”

“Not to mention,” Cowboy added, “that crap you pulled when you took on the job of playing her husband on the mission to smoke out Victor Conti—yeah, you fucking deserve it.”

Cash growled. “Jesus, asshole. That was a job. And you acted like you couldn’t stand Miranda. Someone had to be her husband for the op. We all gave you the chance—you refused.”

“Yeah, but then you rubbed my damned nose in it every chance you got. I wanted to kill you for making her laugh. For pretending she was yours.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t feel so great when you’re on the receiving end, does it?”

It was probably too late to play it cool now that he’d blown like a pressure valve. He went for offended protector instead. “No matter what you think, I’m not in love with Ella. I barely know her. But she’s a sweet girl. She doesn’t deserve you assholes talking about her like she’s fresh meat.”

“Barely know her? What’s that mark on her neck?”

Shit.

“It’s called verisimilitude. Look it up.”

Cowboy snorted. “I know what that word means, dickhead.”

“I don’t,” Camel mumbled.

Cowboy kept going. “You’re trying to tell me you put that mark on her to make this marriage thing look real? Sure thing, bro. I believe you.”

His tone said he clearly did not.

“As fun as this is, you two want to keep the colonel waiting or what?” Camel asked as he started to walk backward. “’Cause I’m gonna have to get on into that briefing room without you if so. I am not making that man wait another second.”

Shit. Mendez.

“C’mon,” Cash grumbled. “If you’re done having fun at my expense?”

“For now,” Cowboy said.

They strode down the corridor and through another two security doors before they reached the one they were looking for. A thumb and retina scan later, the door slid open and they entered a room where their commanding officer lounged at a long table with one hand propped against his cheek and the other tapping on a computer keyboard. The rest of the SEALs were there too, as well as Ghost, the deputy commander.

“Glad you boys could finally make it,” Colonel John “Viper” Mendez said, looking up, one eyebrow arched mockingly. He motioned to the empty chairs. “Have a seat.”

Blade was already there. He’d gone ahead of them once they’d arrived at HQ. He shot the three of them a grin that Mendez couldn’t see and mouthed the words You’re fucked.

“How’s the princess, Money?”

“Fine, sir.” He tried not to think about the love bite on her neck. How prominent it was. How he shouldn’t have done it. Dumb ass. “A bit weary, but holding up.”

Someone snorted and then coughed to cover it. Cash had to work at not glaring at the entire pack of dickheads. They were so fucking amused by this. All he’d wanted to do was go fishing, dammit.

Mendez’s gaze swept the group. He knew they were having fun, but his patience only went so far.

“That’s enough, boys,” he said mildly. “Money was in the right place at the right time and he did what any of you would do. Now, maybe he deserves some shit for teasing the hell out of the rest of you when it comes to women, and maybe those of you who’ve gotten married take particular pleasure in ribbing him since he once declared that dating was a buffet and you guys were stuck with the same entrée every night—”

Holy shit, Mendez knew about that?

“But we’re going to take this shit serious and make sure that girl stays safe. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” everyone said in unison.

Mendez nodded. “Good.” He tapped a key and a slide came up on the overhead. It was a picture of Sheikh Fahd. “Intel says he’s returned to Qu’rim. We think he wanted to marry the princess because a royal wife—especially a queen in exile—would bolster his claim to the Qu’rimi throne if the rebels succeed in overthrowing King Tariq bin Abdullah.”

He let his gaze slide over them. “It’s possible he’s given up on the idea now that the princess is married and presumably no longer a virgin.”

Cash’s neck grew hot. Pray to God none of these assholes saw any color flaring on his face. He’d drop the first one who made a disparaging remark about the state of Ella’s virginity—and he’d do it in front of the colonel with the full knowledge that it was going to cost him.

“It’s also possible that he has not,” Mendez continued. “Which means we’re going to have to keep an eye on things surrounding her, at least until we get some kind of confirmation he’s moved on. And then there’s her family.”

A new slide popped up. This one featured her aunt and uncle, two people with petulant expressions and an air of entitlement that oozed from their photos. Cash wanted to punch them both in the mouth.

“They’ve been hounding the State Department since they’ve learned where she went. They insist she has no legal right to marry without the approval of her guardians. They want the marriage dissolved and the princess returned to them.”

“No.”

Cash hadn’t realized he’d gotten to his feet until the colonel looked up. Everyone else had tilted their heads up as well. He spread his hands on the table and slowly sank down again.

Don’t overreact.

But somebody had to speak for Ella. Somebody had to tell them what had happened to her.

“They kept her a virtual prisoner,” he said, his heart hot as the words tumbled out. “They denied her money, friends—hell, they even denied her food. She hasn’t been allowed any freedom to be her own person. They can rot in hell for all I care.”

Cash thought that Ghost covered a smile as he absently ran his pen back and forth on the paper in front of him. Mendez didn’t crack a smile, but his expression softened for the barest of moments. As if he understood.

“We aren’t letting them have her, son. Believe me, we aren’t. I won’t let it happen, I guarantee you that. But I need you all to know what’s going on. This is a briefing, like any other mission briefing you’ve attended. You need the whole picture. Understand?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

“All right. So let’s discuss protection plans. Who, what, where, why. We’re looking at a week or two, maybe longer if something happens. Princess Antonella appears to be a hotly contested prize in a dangerous game of tug-of-war. Her relatives want her back, Sheikh Fahd has plans for her that we can’t be certain have changed, and there’s a fringe movement in Capriolo that wants to use her as a lightning rod in their plans to gather support for a return to the monarchy.”

Cash’s belly tightened. All those people who wanted Ella for their own reasons. Not one of them cared what she wanted. What she needed. She wasn’t a person to them. She was an object, a prize to be won. To be used.

He frowned. Had he treated her like an object? He hoped not. Thoughts of her beneath him rolled through his head. Yeah, he’d used her—but he’d given her something in exchange.

But was it enough? Or was he just as guilty as the rest of them?

---

The woman named Victoria was stunning. Absolutely stunning. She was wearing a wedding ring, which Ella was oddly thankful for, but she still managed to draw the eye no matter how hard Ella tried not to stare. Ella attempted to keep her attention on the magazine she was reading, but she did a poor job of it.

Victoria smiled when their gazes met. “It’s okay. You can stare.”

Busted. “I’m sorry. I’m being rude. But you’re so pretty, and yet here you are with a gun strapped to your side. Do you work with Cash?”

Victoria laughed. “A woman can’t be pretty and lethal in your world? Yes, I work with Cash. Sort of. Mostly I work with another team, but I was here when you arrived, and the colonel asked if I’d stay with you.”

“I think I would be fine here alone. Would I not?”

The security they’d gone through to get inside this place had been fairly extensive. She didn’t think her aunt and uncle would jump out of any hallways. Nor would Sheikh Fahd, assuming he cared to do so.

“It’s not your safety that was in question. It was more that he thought you might not want to be alone.”

“Oh.” Ella closed the magazine on her lap. “I am accustomed to being alone. It’s truly not a problem. If you have things to do, I mean.”

“I’m fine. My husband isn’t home, and my sister and her husband are busy tonight. I was on the range. Practicing.” She pressed her palm to the gun on her hip. It was a big gun.

“I’ve never shot a gun before.”

“No? You should learn how. It’s a good skill to have. Especially for a princess, I’d imagine.”

“I should. If I’d had a gun the day Cash rescued me, perhaps it never would have come to that. He could have gone on his fishing trip and never met me.”

Except the thought of never meeting Cash made a cavern open in her belly.

Victoria unsnapped the strap holding the weapon in place. Then she pulled it out, ejected something from the long handle and dropped it on the table, did something else that made the top of the gun slide back with an audible click—something small and golden fell out of it, but Victoria snatched it up and pocketed it. Then she pulled the top of the gun a couple of more times before walking over and holding it out.

“Here, take it. It’s empty. Feel what it’s like in your hand.”

Ella got to her feet and eyed the weapon. Gingerly, she reached for it.

“It’s okay. Don’t be afraid of it. You can’t hurt anyone. But don’t ever point it at a living thing you don’t mean to kill, even when it’s empty. Got it?”

“Yes.” Ella took the gun. It was light in her hand. The body was black, and the handle was black and sort of rubbery with little nubs on it.

Victoria stood beside her and turned her toward the back wall. “Hold it straight up, one hand wrapped around the grip.”

“Grip?”

“The bottom part there.”

Ella did as she was instructed. There was a white dot on the front of the weapon and a white U-shaped notch on the back.

“Bring your other hand up, wrap it around this one…” Victoria helped her get the right hand position, wrapping her left hand around her right, positioning both thumbs on the left side of the gun. “Never wrap your thumb around the other side. When the slide comes back as you’re firing, it’ll hurt something fierce. Keep both thumbs on this side. Now line up the front dot with the tops of the posts on the rear sight. Try to keep both eyes open.”

Ella followed the directions. She squinted at first, but then it got easier.

“When you’re ready, squeeze the trigger. Slowly.”

“But I don’t want to shoot.”

“It’s empty. You aren’t going to shoot anything. You’re practicing, feeling the give of the trigger.”

Ella squeezed and the trigger popped like there was a spring somewhere inside. “Oh.”

“Now don’t let it out. Hold it for a second. Very slowly, let it out until you feel a little click.”

Ella did. The trigger clicked and she stopped.

“Excellent. Now pull the trigger in again.”

It popped same as before.

“That’s the reset point. You don’t have to let it fully out before firing again. That knowledge could save critical seconds—and accuracy—when you need it.”

“Wow.”

“You’ve just had your first lesson,” Victoria said, taking the weapon away. “It’ll be different when you have live ammo, of course, but this is a start.”

She picked up the thing she’d tossed on the table. “This is the magazine. It’s loaded with bullets.”

She handed it to Ella, and Ella turned it around in her hands, studying it. It was heavier than she’d expected. When she handed it back, Victoria took the bullet from her pocket and inserted it into the top of the magazine. Then she jammed the whole thing into the grip of the gun, dragged the slide back quickly, and holstered it again. The entire operation took about a second.

“Why do you pull the top back?”

“Because I’m chambering a round. It’s called racking the slide. The gun is ready to fire now. I don’t recommend doing that usually, but I’m a professional and this is my job.”

Ella was more than a little awestruck at the idea of this woman taking down bad guys. She wanted to know how to do that too. How safe would she feel then? If she had a skill like Victoria’s?

The door opened and Ella whirled as Cash came striding in with the same guys as before—and Viking, one of the other guys she’d met back in the cabin a few days ago. She knew him now that she saw him again. Hard to forget with that blond warrior-god thing he had going on.

They were all big and imposing men, faces set in grim lines as they filled the room.

Ella’s heart skipped a beat. “Is everything okay?”

Cash spoke first. “It’s fine, Ella.”

“They always look that way,” Victoria said, giving Ella a quick grin. “It’s in their DNA to be serious.”

“Don’t let her kid you,” Viking said, jerking a thumb at Victoria. “That’s one of the most serious—one of the scariest—women I’ve ever met.”

Victoria laughed. “All right, I’m out of here, guys. Unless you still need me?”

“We’re good,” Cash said. “Thanks for staying.”

“No problem. It was great to meet you, Ella. Remember what I said—and get one of these guys to show you more, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Show you more what?” Cash asked when she was gone.

“How to shoot a gun,” Ella said. “I held hers and pulled the trigger.”

His eyebrows rose. The other guys didn’t seem surprised at all.

“Oh, but there were no bullets,” she added.

“Yeah, I kinda figured.”

“What happens now, Cash?”

He glanced at his teammates. “We’re taking you somewhere safe. Your aunt and uncle are claiming you had no legal right to marry, and they’re asking for you to be returned to them.”

She must have made a noise or given a look because he reached for her hand and squeezed it.

“You’re their queen. Don’t forget that part. They can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

No, they couldn’t. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t try. And if they had her under their control again? It didn’t matter if she was a queen if she had no money or power to fight them.

“I have not forgotten.”

“Good.” He squeezed her hand again. “I won’t let them take you, Ella. I promise.”

“I know that.”

She smiled, though inside she felt nothing but dread. Aunt Flavia and Uncle Gaetano were ruthless people. They’d lied to her for years simply so they could control her. The fact she’d married Cash wouldn’t stop them from trying to regain that control—and whatever benefit they stood to gain by selling her in marriage to anyone willing to pay them enough for her.

She’d run away, married Cash, and she still wasn’t her own person. Would she ever be free? Or would she always be running?