Pure Iron (6 page)

She nodded and the martial glint in her eyes faded. He stepped behind her, making sure that he pressed lightly against her. He subtly rolled his hips so that his bulging cock brushed against her lower back. He hear her slow, deep inhale and watched the rosy blush rise and felt a distinctly masculine satisfaction.

“We’ll take that set,” he said.

“Would you prefer to try them on first?” the clerk asked sensibly.

Sonia nodded and answered, “Yes, please.”

The clerk brought out the rings. The brides’ band fit Sonia’s slender finger. The groom’s band was a little large for Mick’s.

“We’ll take them,” Mick said again.

“Your band will have to be resized. It will take a few days for that,” the clerk stated.

“We’re getting married today,” Mick told him. “I’ll bring the band back tomorrow to be resized today.”

The clerk nodded his understanding and explained the company’s no-return policy. He rang up the sale, which Mick paid with a black credit card. After the couple walked out the door, the clerk retreated to the back room to place bets with his coworkers on just how soon this quickie celebrity marriage would end in divorce.

Their next stop was one of the many quick wedding chapels for which Las Vegas was famous. True to the advertisements, the chapel’s staff expedited the paperwork and the ceremony. Fifteen minutes later, the married couple returned to the limousine, followed by the chauffeur who had graciously served as a witness. It was all part of the service in that crazy town.

“Where to, sir?” he asked.

Mick looked at Sonia, who said, “Food. I’m hungry.”

“A restaurant, some place quiet and discreet.”

“Very good sir. Do you prefer American, Italian, fusion, or Asian cuisine?”

“American,” Sonia replied firmly.

“Very good, madam. We’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

The limousine pulled smoothly into traffic and ten minutes later rolled to a halt in front of the restaurant’s sophisticated facade. Sonia practically quivered in excitement at having the opportunity to dine at a venue made famous by its celebrity chef. Paparazzi hovered near the entrance in the eternal hope of catching glimpses of the rich and famous. A few flashes accompanied their arrival, then died off as another limousine pulled up to disgorge its passengers.

“It’s Tom Cruise!” someone shouted. The photographers surged after the movie star who paused to wave and smile and pose for them.

Mick grinned and tugged Sonia along after him. Sonia glanced back at the movie star and commented once they’d passed through the restaurant’s doors, “He’s shorter than I realized.”

He settled his hand at the small of her back and said, “You’re mine now, sweetheart. No lusting after other men.”

She turned toward him, open-mouthed with shock. But he just grinned at her, eyes twinkling.

“Oh, you are so bad,” she grumbled at him, realizing that he’d been teasing her.

“No, Sonia, I am very, very good and you’re going to find out just how good,” he growled in her ear.

And, just like that, her blood sizzled in her veins.

The maître d' greeted them with a polite smile asked if they had a reservation. Mick confirm they did. He nodded and murmured that it would be no problem to find them a table. A few minutes later, they followed the maître d' through the widely spaced tables.

“Hey, Mick. Good to see you,” greeted one man as they passed.

Sonia’s eyes grew wide as Mick returned the greeting with a handshake.

“What brings you here?” the country music legend asked.

“I got married,” Mick announced with a broad grin and held up his bride’s left hand, clasped in his right.

The singer’s eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed with speculation. “She’s lovely, congratulations. Not in your usual style.”

“No, she’s way too good for me. I had to snag her before she realized what a bad bet I am,” Mick joked.

“Well, again, congrats. I’ll be sure to send a housewarming gift.”

“That’s kind of you, but no puppies, please.”

“Would I do that?” the singer asked with feigned innocence.

“Yes, you would and did,” Mick laughed. “See you in September.”

“What’s in September?” Sonia asked.

“The band’s got a three week gig out here, at Caesar’s no less. Then we’re on tour for six months and it’ll be back to Vegas for another three-week stint.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.”

“The tour is actually on the short side. Iron Falcon isn’t big enough yet to merit an extended gig like Rod Stewart or Celine Dion. We’ll get there.”

Sonia hoped not, but did not say so. Thus far, she found Las Vegas overwhelming and—dare she admit it—tawdry. They took their seats and a waiter soon arrived to take their drink orders. Mick ordered champagne.

“We’re celebrating,” he explained to Sonia as he drew her left hand across the small table and kissed her knuckles. She could find no words to argue when the tip of his tongue flicked over her skin.

The waiter arrived with menus and recited the day’s specials.

“Why don’t you order for us?” Mick suggested.

Excited by the opportunity to sample the celebrity chef’s reputedly exquisite cuisine, Sonia quickly scanned the menu and asked the waiter to repeat the specials. Then she placed their order. The waiter looked a little surprised, but nodded and retreated to relay the order to the kitchen. The chef himself left the kitchen to inquire as to the special request on the entree.

Without stammering, Sonia quickly explained that she meant no insult to the chef, but that the lighter sauce she requested would better complement the champagne they were drinking. The chef paused a moment to consider her reason, then nodded his acceptance.

“Very perceptive of you, miss,” Oliver Augustin said. “Apparently, you have an educated palate.”

She smiled faintly and replied, “I’m a chef, too.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, I just graduated from the CIA,” she replied with justifiable pride.

“And you are here seeking employment?”

“What? Oh, I wouldn’t suggest changes to your menu and then ask for a job.” Sonia was genuinely horrified by the very idea.

“Where are you working, then?”

“Er, I’m not right now,” she admitted sheepishly. “My internship finished a couple weeks ago and I’ll be on the job hunt come July.”

“We’re on our honeymoon,” Mick interjected, raising her left hand so that the wedding band sparkled under the discreetly dim lights.

“Ah, young love,” Joseph said with a curt nod and a faint grin. “Come back tomorrow at eleven o’clock in the morning. I want to see what you can do in the kitchen.”

“I … er …”

“We’ll be here,” Mick said firmly. Turning his attention to Sonia, he commented, “I can’t let you pass up this incredible opportunity, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” Sonia said to them both. It was all she could say.

The chef retreated back to his kitchen while wait staff stared in amazement after him. Sonia took a deep breath and felt a bubble of hysterical laughter rise in her throat. She hurriedly took a sip of champagne to swallow it back down.

Soon their appetizers arrived, followed by their entrees. They shared a light dessert. Mick kept the conversation easy, lulling his bride into a sense of comfort with him. It wouldn’t do to spook her.

About ten minutes before they were ready to return to the hotel, he called their chauffeur. When they exited the front doors, word had spread that Mick Hendriksen of Iron Falcon was visiting. Paparazzi shouted his name and camera flashes popped like quiet lightning. Mick’s first inclination was to rush forward and make it to the limo as quickly as possible. But then he reconsidered: why not use these media piranhas? He stopped and wrapped an arm around Sonia’s waist, holding her close beside him.

“Mick, who’s the new girl?” one of the photographers shouted.

“Gentlemen,” he said loudly, “I have an announcement to make, if you’ll all be silent for a moment.”

The paparazzi complied, although the camera flashes continued.

“Smile, baby,” he whispered in Sonia’s ear. He raised his head and announced, “I’d like you all to welcome my wife, Sonia!”

Gasps and other less polite exclamations could be heard and the flashes increased to a frenzied pace as Mick drew Sonia around to place a passionate kiss on her mouth. He ignored their questions about the suddenness of his nuptials and his wife’s identity while he plundered her mouth.

“On the count of three, we’ll make a run for the limo,” he murmured against her lips.

“Okay,” she replied. He felt her tremble beneath his hands.

He counted and on three, they ran for the open door on the limousine. Their chauffeur quickly closed it behind them and returned to the driver’s seat.

“Back to the hotel, sir?”

“Yes.”

Mick pressed the button that raised the smoked glass divider between the driver and passengers. When they were private, he hauled Sonia onto his lap and kissed her again.

Sonia moaned as his warm hands roamed over her body, cupped her breasts, stroked her inner thighs. She found she could not control her hands, either. She reveled in the heat of his skin beneath the shirt and the hard, sculpted muscle beneath that. He groaned when she grew daring and stroked the front of his pants. After a minute of that, he put his hand over hers and held it still, pressed against his pulsing erection.

“Baby, if you continue that, then you’re going to lose your virginity in this car.”

She panted, arched her breasts against him, and pressed open-mouthed kisses against his neck.

“We’ve arrived at your destination, sir,” the chauffeur’s dispassionate voice announced over the speaker system.

It physically pained Mick to pull away from Sonia, but he did it. He straightened the bodice of her dress, making sure that she was presentable for public viewing. Then he quickly buttoned his shirt and tucked it back into his pants. There wasn’t much he could do about the huge boner, so he made a mental note to make sure he walked behind Sonia.

The discreet driver opened the car’s door after allowing them those few necessary minutes to straighten their clothes. Neither Mick nor Sonia saw him sigh with relief that they were, indeed, still dressed. Last week’s movie star ménage had exhibitionist tendencies, seeing as they hadn’t raised the divider and had ignored his subtle hints that they vacate his vehicle while they finished what they were doing. He’d made sure to add an extra hour onto the invoice for his time.

The VIP elevator whisked them quickly to their floor. A moment after alighting into the corridor, they were inside the suite. The door shut behind them and Mick pressed Sonia against its flat surface with his body as he plundered her mouth and his hands touched everything he could reach.

Sonia surged against him, passion rising wild and uncontrollable. Her hands grappled at his shoulders, pulled his ponytail loose and tangled in his hair. She mewled when his hands grasped beneath her thighs and hoisted her up. He anchored her pelvis with his own, lifting his leg so that she rode his thigh and his knee braced against the door. His mouth ate at hers, his tongue swept her mouth and tangled with hers.

“Bedroom,” he growled.

“Yes.”

Mick adjusted his grip on his wife, swung away from the door, and carried her into the bedroom. He carefully lowered her to her feet and he reached behind her to unzip her dress and unhook the fastening at top of the halter style bodice. Sonia’s fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. A fine shiver rippled through her when the cool air wafted against her bared skin. A second later, the straps of her unhooked bra slipped down her arms. Sonia went very still, her gaze searching his.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured as he slowly pulled the bra off. “Gorgeous.”

Another shiver rippled through her. “I want to see you, too,” she whispered.

He smiled at her and quickly finished unbuttoning his shirt and shrugged it off. The buttoned cuffs caught, but he jerked his hands through the narrow openings, which pulled the sleeves inside out. Seeing her fascination with his body, he said, “Touch me, Sonia.”

Her hands trembled as she brought them up and set her palms flat against his chest. She looked up at his face again and he nodded. “Touch me,” he repeated. Tentatively, she ran her palms over him. With light fingertips, she explored his small male nipples, smiling in delight when they beaded beneath her tough. Mick held himself still, letting her learn his body and enjoying every second of it.

But he could not be still for long. Soon he yanked at his pants, opening the fly and shoving them over his hips. They slid down the rest of the way. He let his knees bend and caught Sonia’s panties on the way down. She gasped as he pulled the lacy garment to her feet and helped her step out of it. She set her hands on his shoulders and braced herself as Mick unbuckled her sandal and slid it off her foot. He then removed the other sandal.

“Get on the bed, honey,” he commanded and quickly removed the rest of his clothing while she crawled to center of the king sized bed and eased beneath the covers. With a predatory smile, he crawled after and swept the covers down. “Don’t hide from me, Sonia. Never hide from me.”