Page 5 of Cameron

“I can’t.” I push him away and run. I don’t get more than ten feet on the sand when he catches up to me, throwing me over his shoulder like a savage beast and carrying me away.

“Put me down, you big jerk.” I beat on his back which only earns a chuckle from his sexy chest.

“Not yet, Elena. Not until we get some shit straight.”

“Mr. King, do we have a problem?” a waiter says. Shouldn’t he be calling security to help me?

“No. Mrs. King has had too much to drink and needs to go to bed.” I’m so stunned that I can’t even respond to that bullshit.

“Congratulations,” he offers, not even questioning the liar. I can’t believe this man. He’s smooth as hell and so cool under pressure that his lies come naturally.

“What? We’re not married. You just said you had a fiancée,” I say, my head bobbing as he carries me through the sand and up the walkway toward the grand hotel.

“I never said such a thing.”

“I read about you living with Elle,” I inform him.

A deep rumble of laughter comes from him and I get pissed, jabbing him in the side. “Elle is my cat,” he grunts out.

I lift my head slightly turning it because maybe the blood has rushed to my head, and I heard him wrong. “Cat?”

“Yes. I don’t have a fiancée.” I try to think about the article.Did I read it wrong?No. I don’t understand. Well, it still doesn’t explain why he just called me Mrs. King to that guy.

“Well, you don’t have a wife either,” I inform him.

“Well, actually, Mrs. King—that’s another matter.” What does he mean by that?

“What? You’re really married? You are a pig.”

“How am I a pig? I can be considered a lot of things. A pig—I don’t think so.” He swats my ass, and I have to ignore how much I’m enjoying his strong hands on me. I’m going to blame it on the rush of blood to my head. Yep, that must be it.

Chapter Three

Cameron

I intentionally play obtuse with her because the blood flow and the two drinks she downed at the bar are starting to go to her head, and she’s missing the most obvious. She’s my wife. Although, I suppose it’s not very obvious without a ceremony, but we’re going to have one later. I swat her ass. “You’re my wife, baby.”

“Bullshit,” she hisses.

“I said watch that mouth of yours,” I remind her by swatting her ass gently.

“I’m not a child.” Don’t I know that, and then some. I’ve known that for so long, and so has my greedy dick. He’s been aching to sink into her womanly body for years now. Especially that one damn night. The night both murder and lust lived within my bones, warring within the good man that I fought to be for her.

“I told you, and I think you felt that I’m well aware of that.” Her thighs clench together with her sexual need.Very telling, my sweet.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on and why you’re goofing around like this. It’s not funny.” She actually sounds hurt. Does she think I’m playing with her feelings? I’ll prove it to her the second we get inside our villa.

“Elena, have you ever known me to goof around?” I ask, hoping she can hear the honesty in my voice.

“No. You’re a grumpy jerk, always growling and glaring when you come over. Whoa,” she cries out as I slip my fingers under her wet panties, rubbing her soaked pussy lips.

“This is why I growl, baby. You’ve always teased me with what I couldn’t have, but you’re eager to grind it up on me now. It may be the drinks running through your tiny perfect body, but I’ll take it.” We arrive at the hotel’s long stretch of villas. I lead her down to the one I rented for us.

Elena was checked out of her room as soon as she left for the beach and her things have been moved, but my little Elena doesn’t know that yet.

As soon as I reach the veranda, I set her down and unlock the door without letting her go. A part of me refuses to release my hold on her for fear that she’ll slip away from me. Even though I’d sure as fuck chase her down and bring her back. “What are we doing here?” she asks as she tries to catch her breath.

“I believe you know what we’re doing here, Elena.” I cup her face, running my hands up and down her smooth skin like I’ve long craved to for so many years. It’s softer, smoother than I expected. Elena never wears makeup when she doesn’t think I’m going to be around. Sometimes she’d know I was coming and then the makeup came on. She has a natural beauty that doesn’t require an ounce of artifice to please me.

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