Slave to the Rhythm (The Rhythm #1)

“Well, a little, but it hurts. Could you get me another of those pills, please?”


I rolled out of bed and quickly moved to the bathroom, stopping a second to yank the curtains open, then bringing her another of the yellow pills.

She gave a small giggle, her gaze dipping to my briefs. I was too worried to be embarrassed that my dick was saluting the morning, right at Laney’s eye level.

“Can you sit up?”

“No. If you could just get me a little upright, I’ll be able to take the pill.”

She wrapped her arms around my neck, grimacing as I pulled her up, giving small gasps as if she was trying to keep her breaths as shallow as possible.

She took the pill, washing it down with several mouthfuls of water.

“You can put me back now,” she said softly.

Her face scrunched even though I was moving as slowly as I could. And I watched her for several seconds until it smoothed out again.

“Does that happen often?” I asked at last.

Her expression was exasperated.

“No, hardly ever. Only once before. Why it had to happen now . . .” and her voice trailed off.

“You had a panic attack,” I said flatly.

“I know,” and she closed her eyes. “The pain was so intense. It feels like every part of your body is on fire. It was so sudden, waking up like that—it’s what made me panic.”

She turned her head to smile at me.

“You were great. Thank you.”

I flopped back on the bed next to her.

“I was so scared, I nearly called the pr—Collin.”

She poked me in the side, making me jump.

“Don’t call him that. He can’t help being . . .”

“ . . . an asshole?”

“Ash!” She paused. “Anyway, I’m glad you didn’t call him, or I’d be waking up in hospital right now.” Then she gave me a big smile. “It’s much nicer waking up next to you. Don’t tell Collin,” and she laughed happily.

I shook my head, awed by this amazing woman. The only parts of her that she could move without pain were her head and her arms, and here she was teasing me, joking with me.

Then she frowned. “You look very serious. What are you thinking?”

I chose to lie.

“I was thinking that I should probably go shower in case Collin decides on a Sunday morning visit and finds us in bed together.”

“Good point. But at least the monster in your pants has gone back to his cave.”

I nearly choked on a laugh. “Monster?”

Her cheeks bloomed pink. “Go. Shower.”

Laughing loudly, I headed for the bathroom.

“I can’t believe I said that,” she muttered.

In the shower, my mood sobered. I worried that stress had caused this flare-up and the scary as hell panic attack. Maybe she’d reconsidered the whole marriage idea. I still didn’t believe that she’d be getting anything out of it, no matter which way she argued it. All the benefit was on my side, and I’d be a selfish douche to let her do this.

Sighing, I dried myself with a towel, determined to persuade Laney to change her mind. But when I walked out into the bedroom, she was working her cell, still flat on her back.

She beamed up at me.

“Locked and loaded!”

“Excuse me?”

“All the paperwork is fairly straightforward. Your Consular ID will be sufficient, but I’ll need to get a copy of your entry visa. Then we have to go to the clerk’s office, take a number and wait. We could drop by one morning before you go to the theater. So . . . how do you feel about getting married on Friday afternoon?”

“Laney, I don’t know . . .”

“Ash, stop. I can guess what you’re going to say, but don’t.”

“We agree this crazy scheme and then you get sick with a panic attack and . . . this!” I said roughly, jerking a thumb at her prone body.

Her expression softened fractionally.

“It’s not related.”

“It must be!”

“I know my own body better than you.”

I ran my hands over my wet hair in frustration.

“Don’t you want this?” she asked.

“Not if it makes you ill!”

“Is that your only concern?”

“Not really. What would happen if your family or the prick find out, or if someone realizes it’s a fake marriage? How much trouble will you be in? I figure I’ll just be deported.”

“Oh, is that all?” she laughed. “You should live a little, Ash.”



Laney

By Thursday, I still hadn’t gotten over my flare-up, which was annoying. God, the stares when I explained that we were there for a marriage license. I breezed through that on a wave of indignation. I’m not sure Ash noticed—he was too busy trying to talk himself into doing it. I wished I could convince him that it was the only solution.