Pure Iron by Holly Bargo Page A

‘Did you think I was the only one to be off-limits by wearing a wedding band?”
    Aware that he’d made an egregious error and faintly shuddering at the thought of having sex with any of the promiscuous groupies who clustered around backstage doors and the band’s bus, he moved quickly to rectify it. But he knew he had to be honest with her.
    “No, sweetheart, I just hadn’t thought about it. I was looking more to find something that you’d like.”
    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