Her dark eyes widened. She swallowed, blinking rapidly.

“I… uh… I…” She closed her eyes and clasped her hands in her lap. It was a calming gesture, and Cash felt a rush of guilt that he’d scared her. But holy hell, that had not been a fun escape. Whoever’d been in that SUV had been determined.

He’d figured she had to be somebody, marrying the sheikh, but hell, that could mean anything. The fact someone was after her within moments of his rescuing her from the first guy meant they wanted her back pretty badly.

Which meant she was probably more than a lovely, connected woman marrying a wealthy foreign national.

“Spit it out, Ella.”

“My full name is Antonella Maria Rossi. My family is, uh, Italian by heritage. I was born in Italy though my family is from the sovereign island of Capriolo. We are all Capriolan. I came to live with my aunt and uncle fourteen years ago when my parents were killed in a car accident. They—my aunt and uncle—arranged the marriage with Sheikh Fahd.”

“Without your consent.”

“Consent is not necessary in my home country.”

“We aren’t in your home country.”

She nodded. “No, we aren’t. My mother was American, by the way. I’m fairly certain she married my father out of love.”

Love. Cash didn’t scoff, though he wanted to. Judging by Ella’s gown and the fact she was marrying Sheikh Fahd, money was involved. A lot of money. Which meant her mother’d had incentive to marry her father too.

“You want to marry for love.”

She dropped her gaze, her fingers fiddling with the lace on her gown. “I do.”

Cash resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but only barely.

Ella’s dark eyes blazed as she lifted her lashes. Her expression hardened. “But not yet. I want to make my own choices, live my own life. When I’m ready, I’ll choose my own husband. I don’t think he should be chosen for me.”

Cash tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. This whole fucking trip had gone sideways, and all because he’d had to pick up a bride. A runaway bride. It would have been funny if not for the fact some asshole had shot a hole in his Mustang—a car he was still paying for, dammit—and another group of assholes had then tried to run him off the road.

“Look, I’m not a miracle worker. I can give you a place to stay for a couple of days. I’ll help you figure out a plan if you want. But I’m not risking my life for you, got it? If someone comes looking for you here, I’m not standing in the way.”

Guilt slashed through him, but dammit, he wasn’t here to risk his life for this woman. She didn’t want to go through with an arranged marriage. He got that. He didn’t blame her, but it wasn’t his job to get between her and her family. They’d been a little heavy-handed in their pursuit of her, but he wasn’t sure she was in any real danger.

Color flared in her cheeks. “I understand.”

He tipped his chin toward the house. “There’s a key under the seat of that rocker on the porch. Let yourself in while I hide the car.”

The color drained from her face. “Don’t leave me out here. Please. I don’t have a phone—I don’t even know where we are. If you leave, I’ll—”

“I’m not leaving, Ella. But I can’t leave the car sitting in the open either. They obviously know to look for a black Mustang GT.”

Hell, by now they had his plate number too. The original guard wouldn’t have gotten it because Cash only had a plate in the rear, but the people in the SUV would have gotten a good look. Shit.

She opened the car door and gave him a long look. “I’m counting on you.”

Then she hefted herself and her monstrosity of a dress out of the car. He’d gotten her as close to the porch as he could. She climbed the steps and he focused on her slim ankles and her bare, muddy feet. When she reached the top, she went over to the rocker. A moment later she had the key. She held it up and he nodded. Then he squeezed the gas and eased the car over to the shed built a little distance away. If he was lucky, he’d find a tarp or something inside. Then he could cover the car and hope nobody came looking for her.

Because he would turn her over if they did. He’d risked enough already. He wasn’t risking more.

---

Ella watched him drive away, her heart pounding. But he didn’t go far. There was a shed a few yards distant and he parked beside it. Then he got out of the car and went into the structure. She stood undecided for a second and then turned and went over to insert the key into the lock.

If he’d intended to leave her here, he wouldn’t be cautious about it. He’d simply drive away. Besides, she was tired and cold and she wanted out of all these acres of wet satin and lace.

She opened the door and stopped just inside. The house was rustic but pretty. Wood paneling covered every last inch of the interior, and the ceiling soared into a point over the living area. Windows covered the entire wall from floor to ceiling, and a deck jutted out from the house.

The view, commanded by the river, was gorgeous. The trees were a beautiful second. They were lush and full, their leaves that bright shade of new green that heralded spring. There was a dock that squatted over the river, and a lift with a boat on it. For a moment, her heart was full as she stared at the scenery.

Free.

That was the word that came to mind, and yet it wasn’t quite right. She wasn’t free. Not yet. She was, in fact, in a worse position than she’d first imagined when she’d ripped off that crown and escaped the house.

No money, no clothes, no identification—and nowhere to go. Only the kindness of a stranger had gotten her this far—and his kindness had a hard limit, which he’d told her only moments ago.

If her uncle’s security men showed up here, it was all over. She didn’t really blame him. He’d gotten shot at and chased, and now he had to put up with her. She was still a burden, but for Cash instead of her aunt and uncle.

Dammit, why couldn’t she do anything right?

Ella walked into the room, rubbing her hands over her arms. She was cold and wet and very disheartened. There was a fireplace, a huge stone thing that perched against one wall. She looked at the wood piled in the box next to the hearth. She didn’t even know how to start a fire.

Useless, Ella. You are useless.

The door swung open and she whirled. Cash stalked inside, carrying a duffel bag and a handful of plastic grocery bags. He kicked the door closed and went over to put everything except the duffel on the kitchen island.

He started taking stuff from the bags and putting it into the refrigerator. “I was supposed to make this trip with two buddies,” he said, dropping a bag of potato chips on the island. “Grocery shopping is always my task.” He shot her a wry look. “Seems I’m incapable of buying for only one person.”

“I see that,” she said as he kept putting things away.

He shrugged. “I like to cook. And whatever I don’t use, I take home again. No big deal.”

“You like to cook?” She didn’t know how to cook. She’d never been allowed to learn. That’s what servants were for, according to her aunt.

“Well, I like to eat. Cooking seemed like the next step if I didn’t want to eat takeout my whole life.”

“Is this your house?”

“It belongs to a friend.”

He frowned as she drifted closer. She realized he was looking at her hands. Specifically at the way she kept rubbing her arms.

“You’re cold.”

“A little.”

“You should take a hot shower. Or a bath. This place has a Jacuzzi tub. You can soak for a while if you like.”

“I would like that a lot.”

He nodded toward a hallway. “You can take the master. That’s where the tub is. I’ll bunk in one of the other rooms.”

Ella hesitated. “I need, uh, I need help…” She couldn’t stop her gaze from dropping away. “There are a lot of buttons.”

His movements stilled. He didn’t say anything for a long moment. When his gaze finally met hers, she wasn’t certain if it was frustration or something else coloring his expression.

“I guess you can’t very well reach behind your back, can you?”

Ella glanced over her shoulder. “I could get a few in the middle maybe. But not the top. Maybe if you just start it, I can finish?”

He sighed and wadded the grocery bags into a ball before stuffing them away in a drawer. “No, that’s all right. I can unbutton you. Unless you want me to slice them away—be quicker.”

Ella shook her head. “No. I mean I know the dress is very likely ruined already, but I can’t willfully cut into it.”

He frowned and then laughed. “So you can stomp through mud and get soaked in a rainstorm, but you can’t harm the dress on purpose? Sounds a little crazy, don’t you think?”

“Probably so.” She gazed at the wet lace. “But it took a lot of work, you know? Someone spent time sewing the beads on, and the buttons. It needs a good cleaning, but it’ll be all right.”

“I can’t believe you care about that dress. Seems like you’d think of it as the memory of your near-marriage to the sheikh.”

She blinked. “It’s not the dress’s fault. Someone else may get joy out of it. You never know.”

It was his turn to blink. “That dress probably cost a fortune, and you want to drop it at a thrift shop or something?”

She hadn’t quite thought of that—but why not? “That sounds like a good idea. They’ll clean it up. Someone will enjoy it.”

He shook his head. “Turn around, Ella.”

She did as he commanded. And then she held her breath, waiting for the feel of his fingers against her skin. But he didn’t touch her. Not for a long moment.

She shot him a look over her shoulder. “Is there something wrong?”

He was staring at her back, at the junction of her shoulder blades beneath the silk. He cleared his throat and lifted his hands. “No, nothing.”

His fingers were warm as they made quick work of her buttons. Her skin tingled beneath the onslaught in a way that surprised her. The porn leaped to her mind and she thought of the way the man had caressed the woman’s back before sliding his erect penis into her wet folds.

So erotic, that memory. The woman had been shaven clean, and the sight of all that male flesh disappearing inside her had both amazed and aroused Ella. How had she taken it all? How had she stood it?

But the male flesh disappeared again and again, and the woman moaned and thrashed her body against the man. Then she stiffened and cried out, and the man pumped harder. All Ella could see was his thickness sliding in and out, in and out. Rasping tender flesh. Dragging feelings from deep within. She hadn’t thought of any of that with Sheikh Fahd, but now she couldn’t quite stop herself.

She bit her lip, and Cash’s fingers stopped moving against her back. She didn’t say a word, didn’t move. He didn’t speak either. Then he took a step closer, and for a moment she could feel his hard body ghosting against the back of hers, so light as to not even be a touch at all.

But it was most definitely a touch. She started to lean back out of instinct, but two broad hands fixed on her shoulders and stopped her. They were strong hands. Insistent hands.

“That should be good enough,” he said, his voice huskier than it had been. “Go shower, Ella. Take your time, and I’ll cook something to eat.”

She nodded as heat crept into her cheeks. It wasn’t the heat of arousal though. It was the heat of embarrassment. Had he known what she’d been thinking?

Oh God.

She clutched the dress to her chest as she followed his directions to the master bedroom. Once she found the bathroom, she ran hot water and discarded the gown in a heap on the floor. Then she stepped inside the steamy tub and sank down in it until she could sink no more without drowning.

Though maybe drowning was a good idea after all. At least she wouldn’t have to face Cash again.