One Wild Vegas Night (4 page)

A heavy feeling of guilt settled on him, but as his brain shook off the fog of his hangover he remembered the other requirement. A binding mating ceremony needed an exchange of pledges, vows of commitment. He’d marked her, but they wouldn’t have pledged themselves, so they weren’t fully mated.

His gaze flicked up as Hannah stepped from the bathroom, her expression remarkably calm. “Well, I’ve had hickeys before, but not since high school.” Her tone was light but it clearly pained her and Sol felt guilty.

He stood and moved over to her, tilting her head to the side so he could examine the mark. Damn, he’d bitten her hard. “I’m so sorry, Hannah, I don’t know what got into me. I really don’t remember doing that.”

“Hey, I don’t remember much after the champagne arrived. We were both pretty wasted. No real harm done. I’ll just need to wear a scarf for a few days.”

His hand dropped to take hers. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

She smiled, her eyes growing dark. “So are you.”

Lust gripped him at her obvious desire, but he forced himself to step away. With her wearing his mark, being with her again was out of the question. He could tell himself his bite meant nothing but his body was reacting viscerally to it, his shifter side telling him that Hannah was his mate, liking how his mark looked on her neck.

Sol cleared his throat and nodded toward the bathroom, and she stepped aside to let him pass. Once inside, he spun to look at himself in the mirror but a cry from Hannah had him racing back into the bedroom, instinctively looking for the threat, his nails sharpening, ready to attack. “What is it?” Hannah stood with her back to him on the far side of the room, looking down at the dresser. He walked over to her. “Hannah?”

She picked something up and slowly turned to face him. Her face was ashen and her hand shook as she held out a piece of paper. Sol could see it was a receipt of some sort. As he reached out to take it a strange feeling ran through him. His stomach dropped at the words written on it.

The Little White Wedding Chapel

Deluxe Wedding Package

Your merchandise will be available for collection tomorrow.

Sol’s knees buckled and he sank to the bed. Wedding? Vows, pledges. A shiver ran up his spine. No they couldn’t have gotten married last night, could they? With a shaky breath he glanced up at Hannah, who looked to be in shock.

“What the hell happened last night? Can you remember any of it?” There was an edge of hysteria in her voice.

“No, not at all.” He looked down at the receipt. Yesterday’s date was stamped on it.

“We didn’t get married, did we? I mean, that’s impossible.”

Sol rubbed the thin paper between his fingers. “It looks like maybe we did, but I honestly don’t remember anything. We’ll need to go there to be sure.”

Hannah nodded and then walked over to pick up her dress. “I’ll go get changed and meet you downstairs.”

Sol stood and stepped toward her. “Just let me get dressed first and I’ll come with you.”

“No.” Her voice was sharp and as he reached for her, she jerked away. The shock was gone, replaced once again with the fear she’d carried when he’d first met her. Hannah looked freaked and something heavy began to settle in Sol’s stomach. There was something going on here he didn’t understand, but his intuition was telling him it meant trouble.

“Hannah—”

She held up her hand. “No, I can’t do this right now. I’ll meet you downstairs.” She pulled the zipper of her dress up, and before he could speak again, she was out the door.

***

After Hannah had left, Sol dressed quickly, trying unsuccessfully to shake off the feeling of unease that had settled on him.
Why had Hannah looked so scared again? What was going on?

Unable to come up with an answer, Sol made his way down to the lobby, not entirely sure Hannah would be there, but she followed shortly after him. Again, he went to reach for her, but again she stepped away. Not wanting to force the issue, Sol’s hand dropped to the side and they walked stiffly across the lobby to get a cab.

As they rode to the chapel, the silence was heavy between them, the cab ride so different from the night before when they had been wrapped around each other. Hannah sat as far away from him as she could, her body rigid, her gaze locked outside, her expression tense. Sol longed to reach for her but he kept his hand back, his gut clenching.

All too soon they arrived, the building as tacky as Sol had imagined, and he couldn’t help but cringe. Without a word they made their way up the steps and through the double doors. Inside the chapel was traditionally laid out and a tall man stood at the end of the aisle. He turned as they entered, a large smile appearing on his face, his arms opening wide.

“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Martinez. So lovely to see you, though I did not expect you to be here so early. Your photos are ready but the DVD will be a bit longer I’m afraid.”

Hannah stepped forward. “Look I’m sorry but we…we can’t remember anything about last night.” She swallowed. “Did we get married here?”

The man cast them a surprised look. “Well, yes, of course you did. Such a beautiful ceremony, such love.” He paused, looking from one to the other. “You really don’t remember?”

“No,” Sol replied.

His head tilted slightly to the side. “So strange. You didn’t seem under the influence of anything. I can’t believe you don’t remember any of it.”

“You said there is a DVD, do you have the footage of the ceremony?” Hannah asked in a shaky voice.

“Yes, of course, and the photos are ready.” He turned to a desk on one side and picked up a white photo album, handing it to Hannah. Sol stepped up beside her as she started flipping frantically through the album, filled with photo after photo of the two of them very clearly getting married.

“The video footage,” Sol ordered in a voice so harsh it made both Hannah and the man flinch.

“Of course, come this way.” They followed him through to a small room at the back of the chapel and he fiddled with a screen and player until a view of the chapel appeared on the screen. Sol sank down into a nearby chair, Hannah taking the one next to him.

They watched in silence at the images on the screen; the two of them walking down the aisle, standing side by side in front of the man, the exchange of the vows, a passionate kiss. The recording was clear, their vows to each other undeniable, and the strangest thing was that neither of them seemed particularly drunk. Sol rubbed the back of his neck
. How in the hell had this happened? How could they seem so rational, so sober? Unless…

Sol stood and stepped closer to the screen. His eyes were almost glowing in the light of the camera and his body practically vibrated with energy…just as it would when he was close to his change. Understanding hit Sol like a fist. At some point last night his shifter side had come forward; not enough to make him fully turn, but enough to take charge, and it had clearly decided that Hannah should be his mate.

His attention shifted to the image of Hannah. Her expression was rapt, her pupils dilated, and she leaned into him as if she were taking strength from him. Sol’s brow drew down. With his shifter side so close to the surface his body might have produced strong enough pheromones to affect Hannah’s behavior. To make her throw off her inhibitions and the rational part of herself to agree to marry him.

Some of his friends who were mated to human females had boasted about their mates responding to their scent and losing control, but Sol had figured that was just guy talk. Now he wasn’t so sure.

As his mind worked, trying to make sense of the situation, the man paused the DVD on a shot of the two of them staring into the camera, arms wrapped round each other, expressions blissful. An undeniable feeling of warmth filled Sol. Hannah and he had willingly exchanged vows and he’d marked her. For good or bad they were mated. Sol turned to face Hannah, who sat staring ahead, her eyes unfocused, shaking her head, mumbling beneath her breath, “I don’t believe this. Can’t be married. Can’t be.”

Sol stepped forward and took her hand. She looked up at him, looking so lost, so fragile. “It’s hard to believe, but it’s true, Hannah. We are married.”

At his words, she jumped up, pulling away from his grasp, and began pacing back and forth, shaking her head. “No I can’t be married, can’t be, can’t be married.” Her words were rushed, incoherent and Sol watched her, a growing sense of worry filling him. “This is a huge mistake.” She stopped. “We need to get this annulled.” She turned to face the man. “You do annulments, don’t you?”

He nodded. “Yes, of course, breaks my heart, but I can do that. There’s some paperwork you both have to sign but it won’t take long.”

“Good, please go and get it.”

“Of course, if you’re sure. I’ll just be a few minutes.” The man started to turn but Sol’s firm voice made him stop.

“No.”

“What?”
Hannah spun toward Sol, her lips parted in shock.

Sol held her gaze, his voice firm. “I’m sorry, Hannah, but I can’t agree to an annulment.”

“Are you crazy?” Hannah’s voice was high, simmering with anger.

A nervous cough from behind drew Sol’s attention to the man. “I’ll leave you two to it for a moment. I’ll be out front if you need anything.” And he beat a hasty retreat.

Sol’s attention turned back to Hannah, whose face was growing red, her eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell are you thinking, Sol?”

He let out a deep breath and stood. “We exchanged vows, made a pledge to each other, and I marked you.” His eyes flicked to the bite mark on her neck, hidden by her top. “For me, for my people, that’s binding and cannot be undone.”

“What? What do you mean your people? Oh God, you’re not part of some weird cult, are you?”

“No, nothing like that, but for me a marriage is for life and cannot be set aside.”

“So, what, you expect us to stay married? To live together as man and wife. That’s insane.”

“No, not for me. This is fate.”

“
Fate?
No, I can’t do this, can’t be married.” She backed away, beginning to hyperventilate, looking absolutely panicked.

Sol moved forward, meaning to reach out for her, but Hannah leaped away from him, her expression furious, her eyes filled with tears. Though it was hard to do so, Sol stilled. With his acceptance of what had happened between them, his instincts were in overdrive, screaming at him that Hannah was his mate and he should comfort her, but she was reacting so strangely. Sure, he had expected her to be pissed, but there was something else going on; her reaction was too extreme.

“Hannah, let me try and explain.” He stepped toward her again, but she spun on her heels and raced for the door before he could stop her. With his instincts where they were, Hannah running from him was too much and with a low growl Sol went after her. She’d barely cleared the front door when Sol caught her in his arms, spinning her around to look at him. The terror he saw on her face chilled him to the bone.

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

“Get off me, get off me!”
Hannah screamed at him. She was acting on pure instinct; adrenaline made her heart pound in her chest. She couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe what Sol was expecting from her. She’d woken up so happy and now everything around her was crashing down.

“Hey, hey stop this. It’s all right; I’m not going to hurt you.” Sol’s words barely registered and Hannah kicked and thrashed against him, but he was too strong. She rained blows down on him, but he barely seemed to notice, which made her even angrier.

Hannah cursed and kicked and screamed at him, but Sol just continued to hold her, speaking soothing words. All of a sudden her anger passed and she sagged against him. Her throat felt raw, her head throbbing from a combination of her hangover and her outburst. Sol’s hand moved to her back, rubbing against her in a soothing rhythm, and gradually her breathing calmed.

They stood like that for several minutes and then Sol’s hands moved to her arms and he pulled her away from him. His expression betrayed his shock at her reaction. “It’s okay, Hannah, this will be okay.”

She shook her head. “No it won’t. You don’t understand.”

“Then tell me.” His tone was pained.

She searched his face. “You really want to know about me?” She could hear the desperation in her voice.

“Yes.” His expression was firm, his tone resolute.

“Fine.” She closed her eyes, trying to order what she was going to say. “Until about three months ago, I was married.” Her eyes opened and she flinched at the fury she saw in Sol’s expression. Her throat went dry.

“Go on.” Sol’s tone was flat and she had to force herself to keep going.

“My husband Richard was a bastard. Controlling, abusive, cruel.” Sol’s grip on her tightened as she spoke, his jaw clenching. “It took me years to get away from him, but I finally did. I got a divorce and a restraining order, changed my surname back to my maiden name. And then I got as far away from him as I could. I was here in Vegas to celebrate the start of my new life, my new freedom.”