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lifted the lid. A shiny solitaire diamond in a silver setting winked at him in the glow of the computer monitors.
    An invisible band wrapped around his chest and squeezed as he held out the ring to Alayna. “I believe this is for you,” he choked out.
    Her hand trembled ever so slightly as she reached for the box, then looked up at him with eyes large and smoky with both uncertainty and longing.
    His cock hardened further as she slid the ring onto her finger, and he reached for the long box. Inside lay a collar made of braided leather in black with a ruby circle in the center. On either side of the ruby were silver circles, large enough to snap the latch of a leash onto.
    Alayna gasped and the rise and fall of her chest picked up as she gazed at the collar in his hands. The tip of her tongue swept across her full lips and his cock kicked in response ready for the touch of her mouth.
    Fuck it all. He may have found the mission to finally kill him. But hell, what a way to go.
    “Can you do this, Alayna? Can you submit to me?” With the stakes this high, he was going to push her past the point of no return if it got them their man. “Do you want to continue?”
    She glanced at the ring on her finger then straightened her spine as she looked him in the eye.
    “I do.”
     
     

 
    Chapter Four
     
    The little missus was pissed.
    Steele didn’t know why he found her temper so funny. The entire situation was more serious than a funeral, but he found it difficult to keep the smile off his face as he watched “the wife” fidget and turn in the seat next him.
    Wife. Damn. Even though it was pretend, he never thought he’d have that word associated with him. The Marine Corps had been his wife, and only allowed time for a mistress now and again, besides, he liked his woman naughty then gone. The good girls wanted all of his time. They wanted babies and vacations to Disneyland and only agreed to sex on the weekends, holidays and anal for his birthday.
    What he wanted was a woman who’d part her thighs with just a glance from him. Someone who’d drop to her knees and allow him to take her to the heights of pleasure. Then wave at him with a smile as he set off for his next assignment. He was a simple man. When he was tired, he slept. Hungry, he ate. Horny, he fucked. Simple.
    Could that be considered barbaric? Maybe. Chauvinistic? Abso-fucking-lutely. Which was why he never lied and led a woman on to think he was able to give more than a night of ecstasy. That wouldn’t have been fair, and there wasn’t a woman he’d ever been with that could say he hadn’t be honest and delivered on his every promise.
    But here he was, “married” to a woman who kept glaring daggers in his direction as she shifted on the cushy airline seat.
    “What’s crawled all over your hide, sweetheart?” he asked close to her ear to be heard over the roar of the jet engines.
    Her brows rose until they disappeared into the fringe of her bangs? “Are you kidding?”
    She glanced to the sides and behind them and leaned closer. At this late hour, the plane was only half full with rows of empty seats between them and the other passengers.
    “We are only ten minutes into this mission and already you are going off book,” she said in a terse murmur.
    “How so?”
    “You’re supposed to own a motorcycle shop. Shop owners cannot afford to travel in first class. We should be in coach.”
    “That’s what has you riled? Sorry, sweetheart, but you do not want to see me squeezed into a tiny coach seat. I’ll be cranky and irritable and ready to slap some ass.” He smiled widened. “Unless you want to be the ass I slap?”
    She let out a frustrated sigh and turned to face forward with her arms folded tight. Why didn’t it surprise him that even with a fake marriage, his honeymoon started off with his wife giving him the cold shoulder?
    “It makes sense.”
    She glared at him again. “What does?”
    “Convincing Poppy to upgrade the seats to first