Happily Ever After: A Romance Collection

by Amelia Wilde

  We lost track of her once she and Seth landed in Miami, but Ava gave us two possible starting points—a woman named Helen Regis and a Ramada Hollywood Downtown. I have the address, and it’s where we plan to start.

  The plane finally stops moving, and a low tone sounds in the cabin. The lights flicker on, and we all stand, including Logan across the aisle from me, and Freddie a row in front of me.

  We’re using fake names, and we’re dressed casually in jeans and button-down shirts. Our reason for this visit will be stated as “pleasure.” We’re simply European businessmen spending a week in South Beach. It’s the best way to stay ahead of the game.

  “I’ve made contact with our local guys,” Freddie says, once we’re through customs. “They’ll meet us in the parking garage with weapons and vehicles.”

  “What’s the latest on this weather?” I look out the window at the typhoon in which we’ve landed.

  “Typical Miami rain?” Logan suggests.

  “Let’s hope it pushes through quickly.”

  We’re in the garage, taking the elevator to the second to top level. Down twelve rows and over three, I see our men waiting beside a black SUV and a smaller black Mercedes sedan.

  “That’s not conspicuous at all,” I say, shaking hands with Ronald Delahousse, our local contact. His light brown hair is longish and messy, and he’s dressed the same way we are, except he has a thin nylon jacket on top.

  He does a slight bow. “Your grace.” He hands me a black leather wallet. “U.S. passport, Florida driver’s license, and credit cards for one Bill Aucoin.”

  At the rear of the sedan, he opens the trunk and lifts the mat. Two rifles and a store of ammunition are housed in a secret compartment.

  “Nice,” I say.

  “In the console area, you will find a drop-down compartment containing a thirty-five millimeter and a Diamondback DB-9.”

  “That would be a…?”

  “Four-inch nine-millimeter handgun,” he says. “Both are fully loaded.”

  “Sounds like we’re all set.”

  He hands me the keys to the sedan, and I wave to Logan and Freddie. They’ll shadow me to the hotel then wait from the SUV as I pretend to reserve a room. We’ll maintain contact through our smart watches, which has the added benefit of letting them know my heart is still beating. I’ve worked with these guys before. They’re two of the best from my regiment.

  It takes a half-hour to reach the hotel in the rain. I pull into the parking lot, giving it a brief scan for anything unusual. All is grey and quiet in the downpour. I reach into the console and take out the tiny pistol. It’s the size of my palm, and once I’m standing, I slide it into my jeans pocket before dashing into the lobby.

  “Wahoo! You made it just in time for the hurricane party!” A tall, dark-haired male behind the desk is smiling and lively.

  “Is a hurricane coming?” I glance behind me out the front doors. The black SUV is parallel parked on the street.

  “Nah, it’s just a thunderstorm, but any excuse for a party, right?” He does finger guns at me. “That’s some accent. You from Louisiana?”

  “Sure,” I say, looking away to inspect the run-down lobby. Not the greatest part of town.

  “Well, laissez les bon temps rouler!” He sings as he steps to the computer. I smile, playing along as I reach for my fake identification. “How long you staying with us, big guy?”

  “One night.” I hand over the license and credit card.

  “Oh!” The guy squints at the card, and I my smile tightens. “How do you say that name? Aye-you-coin?”

  “Close.” My shoulders relax, and I smile. “Oh-kwan.”

  “I wasn’t close!” he laughs. Then he whispers, staring at my card. “Oh-kwan… oh-kwan…”

  Holding my hand out, I cock a brow. “May I have it back?”

  “Oh, sure!” He passes it across. “Room 204. Elevator’s around the corner. Enjoy your stay!”

  “Thanks.”

  He’s back to doing a little dance, playing on his phone, and I slip around the corner. The room I’m searching for is on the second floor, but it’s on the other side of the hotel. I head straight down the empty hall, noting the faded carpets and peeling wallpaper.

  “I’m en route,” I say softly at my wrist, my eyes trained on the corner up ahead.

  I haven’t passed anyone in the hall, and I can only guess it’s because of the unfashionable location or the poor weather—or both.

  Around the corner, I stop as a blast of damp, warm air hits me. Keeping my back against the wall, I look down to see the exterior door is cracked, letting the rain and humid wind stream through the opening.

  A quick glance to my right, and I see the room in question. My pulse ticks faster.

  “I need backup,” I say quietly in my watch. “Enter from the pool area. The back door is open.”

  A light thump from my watch tells me they’re on the way. I fish out the small gun from my pocket and slowly creep down the shadowy hall. A flash of lightning makes me realize the power is out in the hotel, or at least in this wing.

  Crossing quickly, I press my back against the opposite wall, on the same side as my destination. I have my gun against my chest, and I slide my hand out, testing the doorknob. It falls open easily.

  “Shit,” I say so quietly, it’s not even a breath. I look to my right again. Come on, guys.

  I’m standing at the last known whereabouts of Helen Regis, and I’m not about to enter until Logan and Freddie are in sight. No telling what I might walk into. Freddie is as tall as me, but a bit leaner, faster. Logan is both taller and beefier. They’re the perfect combination in situations like this.

  The soft noise of the exterior door opening makes me tense until my partners dash up, shaking water from their clothes. Nodding, I hold a finger to my lips before pointing to the door. Freddie takes the opposite wall, and Logan is right beside me.

  Stretching out my leg, I kick it open, and Freddie points his gun straight ahead. Everything freezes.

  I hold my breath, waiting, and…

  Nothing.

  Silence greets us from inside. A low rumble of thunder fills the quiet as we start to breathe again.

  “Let’s go,” I whisper.

  Freddie strides forward, stepping into the black room and reaching to flick the light switch. No dice. I’m right behind him as he pulls out a flashlight, and we quickly scan the seemingly vacant space. No luggage, no sign anyone’s slept in the bed.

  Pushing back the heavy curtains fills the room with grey daylight. “She must’ve checked out,” Logan says behind me, moving around the magazines and a white plastic binder with his gun.

  “Check the bathroom,” I tell Freddie, and he nods.

  He’s only in the small, closet-sized space a moment. The noise of the shower curtain moving, and he calls to me. “Sir? I think I’ve found her.”

  Logan and I both rush to where he’s waiting, and there, in the tub, lies a large, female body. She’s wearing sweatpants and a shirt that reads, “I pooped today!”

  A plastic bag is over her head, tied at the neck, and it’s dotted with moisture. I’m just about to pull out our information to identify the body when the room phone blasts out a ring.

  We all freeze, our eyes meet, and I take a second to decide what to do. “Identify her,” I say, snatching a towel off the rack.

  The harsh, metallic noise blasts another ring, and I slowly approach where it sits on the laminate table. One more ring, and I pick it up with the towel, holding the receiver near my ear without touching my skin.

  I don’t speak. Instead, I wait for the person calling to go first.

  Silence. They’re waiting as well.

  I’m breathing fast, thinking as Freddie walks out of the bathroom. Clearing my throat, I pretend to cough.

  “Helen?” the female voice I’ve been desperate to hear speaks.

  “Zelda?” I say just as fast. “Zelda, it’s Cal—where are you?”

  Log
an stumbles out of the bathroom, holding a towel over his mouth and nose. “It’s her,” he says.

  “Zelda?” I say again fast. “Where are you, love?”

  She doesn’t hang up, which I take as a good sign, but she doesn’t speak either. “Zelda, please. I’m trying to find you.”

  “Cal?” Her voice trembles. “What are you doing? Who’s with you?”

  “Two of my men. Tell me where you are. We’re here to protect you.”

  A voice is with her. “Where is Helen?” I can tell she’s repeating what it told her to say.

  “I’m afraid she’s had an accident—”

  “Oh my god…” she gasps. “They’re going to kill us all.”

  “Zelda, talk to me.” My mind is racing. Helen and this hotel are the only leads we have. “I know you’re afraid, but you’re smarter than this. Let me help you.”

  She answers fast. “I can’t drag you into this.”

  “I’m already in it.”

  “I’m not good for you.”

  “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “You can’t save me.”

  “Want to bet?” My tone is deadly serious. I will not let anything happen to this woman. “I love you, Zee.”

  She’s silent a split second. “I have to hang up. They could be monitoring this line.”

  “Call my cell. You know the number—call me!” I’m shouting on the line as it goes dead. “FUCK!” I throw the receiver against the wall.

  For a moment, we stand in the dark room. I’m breathing hard, frustration surging through my veins. A dead body is in the tub. The woman I love is out there, God knows where, in danger. I’m about to lose it, when my watch gives me a little thump.

  Looking down, I see a text from an unknown number. Must stay hidden. Seth has a friend who can hide us.

  “Yes!” I shout, motioning to the men. “Come on. We’ve got her.”

  Dashing out the back door, I’m speaking into my watch. “Send me your location. I’ll come to you.”

  A quick touch, and the message is sent. I’m in the car, and the guys are dashing across the street to their vehicle. Seconds pass. They feel like hours. My jaw clenches. I’m staring at the small screen, waiting for her response. Waiting…

  Finally, a thump. Seth chartered a boat. Will text more when we’re there.

  She’s at the marina? Fuck! Which one?

  “No,” I speak fast into my watch. “Tell me where you’re going now.” A knot is in my throat as I hit send and wait.

  More seconds tick by. The rain has slacked off, and little pellets of water make pinging sounds on the glass. The storm is passing over, moving further north, and away from the coastline. I drum my fingers on the steering wheel as the black SUV pulls into an empty parking space beside me. My forehead is tight as I watch the virtual second hand move around the clock on my wrist.

  “Tell me, Zelda…” I growl, staring at the white hands on the black face. It’s humid in the car, and a bead of sweat rolls down the center of my chest beneath my long-sleeved button-down. “Answer me.”

  Another second passes… another little eternity. My forehead tightens; I’m afraid she’s not going to reply.

  Then all at once a tap on my wrist; I almost shout when one word appears on the screen: Tortola.

  I lower the window on the Mercedes. Freddie leans his dark head out toward me. “Get us on a flight to Tortola.”

  Don’t miss the exciting chase, the return of Zelda, the quest for justice, and a royal wedding in

  A Player for a Princess!

  Get it now: A Player for a Princess (link).

  UNTIL I FALL

  Claudia Burgoa

  Until I Fall

  Claudia Burgoa

  Aspen

  I gave my heart to a Navy SEAL.

  He took it with him to his grave.

  Eleven years later, ignoring the yawning void is as automatic as breathing. Working brutal hours, dating a comfortably commitment-phobic guy, hanging with my best friends. Anything until exhaustion—or an extra glass of wine—claims my consciousness.

  My neighbor’s handsome, enigmatic son invades my comfort zone.

  He says he’s a tattoo artist. But Anderson Hawkins’ piercing green eyes, mastery of the short answer, weird schedule, and military ink tell a different story.

  His touch ignites a long-dead flame inside me. A flame I’m afraid to examine too closely, even as I’m drawn to its heat.

  Anderson

  I retired from Delta Force

  Now I work at a high-intelligence security agency

  But working undercover isn’t the adrenaline rush it used to be.

  For one thing, my Mom’s illness shifted my priorities to finding a way to save her. For another, her neighbor next door, whose prickly defenses belie the unflinchingly caring heart underneath, has slipped under my skin. Now my mission is to convince her it’s safe to unlock her heart. Because I’m ready to give her mine.

  To the brave ones, the courageous. To those who still battle against cancer. To the ones who left us after fighting. To their loved ones. You are bravever than you believe, stronger than you think and beautiful. My heart is with you.

  To Efren, who courageously fought for two years until the end. I love you and miss your mischevious personality. He’d be thirty-eight this year, just like Anderson.

  Soulmates aren’t hatched, they grow. You make a connection, build a relationship, and then, you realize: This is my soulmate. ~ Anonymous

  Prologue

  Aspen

  Scarlett: Where are you?

  I sigh as I see a group text from Scarlett and Brynn appear on my screen.

  Me: Heading home, you?

  Brynn: We’re going to Johnny’s. Do you want to meet us there?

  Me: Nope, I have a test tomorrow. Unlike you two geniuses, I have to study so I don’t flunk.

  Michael: What have I told you about texting and walking?

  I halt, gasping as I read Michael’s text. My lips spread into a wide smile thinking of him, how I miss his crystal blue eyes, his boyish grin and…I sigh. He’s so far away from me, and neither one of us has plans to visit the other until next Christmas.

  Me: Many, many …

  My heart beats faster, stopping me from typing. I narrow my gaze at the phone, then look up. I find him right in front of my apartment, sauntering toward me. He’s here. Slipping my phone inside my lab coat, I rush to meet him.

  “You’re here!” I jump into his arms, my legs hugging his waist, my hands cupping his face as I make sure he’s here—with me. It’s been so long; I can’t believe he’s here. The exhaustion disappears, who needs caffeine? His touch energizes me, that spark of ours is all I need to come back to life. “Why didn’t you call me? I’d cut class for you.”

  “Keys,” he demands. He kisses the corner of my mouth. “You look cute wearing that white coat, Doc.”

  I hand them over, anxious to be inside my place.

  “You can’t call me that yet. It’s going to take years for me to become one.” I nibble his neck. He growls while fidgeting with the lock. “Take us to my room.”

  “Where’s the scaredy-cat?”

  “Scarlett and Brynn went to one of the bars near campus,” I groan. He’s got to be kidding me. Asking for his sister just as we’re about to have sex. Is he for real?

  “Good, we have a few hours to ourselves. I love my sister, but I hate when she interrupts.”

  I can’t agree more; my bestie is wonderful until she turns into the third wheel. “Nothing like the present, then. To my quarters, my soldier.”

  “I’m not a soldier, and you’re too bossy tonight. I should spank you.” He squeezes my ass with one hand, burying the other between my curly hair, bringing his mouth down to mine.

  He kisses me slowly; tasting me for the first time, deeply. Our tongues dance, soothing our souls after all the time we were apart. My fingers grip the back of his neck, I release his waist, lowering my
self off him. Suddenly it hits me, why he’s here. Like a sharp stab right in the center of my heart—he’s going on a mission.

  “You’re leaving?” He stays quiet, pressing me harder against his body and taking my lips again. I push him away gently. “For how long?”

  “You know I can’t say anything, Aspen.”

  I lean my head against his chest, listening to his heart. His beat slows like mine. My arms go around his waist and we stay like that for several minutes. Remember the pact. You not only agreed to love him as a man, but to understand who he is. He’s a SEAL. He lives to serve his country, to defend our freedom. A selfish part of me hates it. The rest understands that without men like him, the world would be a scarier place. Men like my fiancé are the ones who keep this country free. Still, I miss him when he’s away. I fear something bad might happen during those missions.

  After several minutes, and once I make my own peace, I straighten my spine, pushing down the fear, the panic, and everything that he doesn’t need from me. He needs a woman who will love, support, and accept him. Most of all, he needs me to wait for him while he fights for everyone. I release him. My hands slide down his chest, gliding down to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off his body, and leaving his well-defined torso bare.

  Pressing my hands to his tanned skin, I’m ready to face him with a broad smile and willing to spend the next… “How long are you here for?”

  “Less than twelve hours,” he announces, shedding my white coat and growling. “Fucking gorgeous.” He stares at my short sundress, his eyes filled with lust.

  “Why didn’t you call?” I help him undo his belt and fidget with the buttons of his jeans.