Love Found Me (A City Love Novel, Book 1)
Page 20
The air had begun to sprinkle a slight mist that quickly evaporated onto the pearlized marble already showing off its luster. Streaks of deep pink and light coral mingled sapphire on a canvas of sky sifting blue violet. The yacht seemed completely quiet, as if the night hadn't posed such suspicion well into morning. Except for the flock of seagulls squawking back and forth circling the harbor, while dinghies motored the early open waters...
The morning left a sense of renewed vitality. It tamed worry. Her dread was dissolving fast, with her hand tightening in his. At least for the moment, Danielle could think of nothing but the intimacy they shared. All she'd thought about was the moment Roman had taken her breath away all over again.
But then, reality kicked in. As beams of light glinted the wispy threads in his sweater, they could hear the breeze crescendo the tides to a new high, when Roman linked eyes with Danielle and made himself say, "Ready?"
Chapter Twenty
Suddenly, panic left her. All that was left was her desire to be with Roman. He was the man in her life. Her protector. And judging by the look on her face, she hated the fact that their relationship was still at odds with the huge disaster on their hands that had yet to come to an end.
Her hand barely released his, not even for a second. But then, they sought the need to get moving. As she collected herself, every cell in her body limbered against the marble. She yearned a continuance. She hungered for another bite of his animal magnetism. Her tousled bustier was just about the only thing standing between her desire to tear his silken threads inside out.
She had restrained her desire for so long. She'd dealt with it. She'd understood the familiar. Career was safe. Putting her heart on the line wasn't. It was a slippery slope she'd had to climb -- to find him -- to find love.
Though, in the back of her mind, she had the feeling their love would be tested. Trust was still something that mired her heart, even when her gut kept telling her it was a mistake to.
Danielle didn't want to spend another second thinking about it.
She let herself look at him for a long moment, the way his eyes roved her sensuously. A deep gasp escaped him, a second before his dimple winked at her.
Flexing his arms, she'd watched every ripped muscle in his biceps bulge her pulse another octave beyond where it already was. Chills flew up her spine, mingling with the goose bumps that had now crept way up her arms.
Such endearment had her muscles feeling like a pool of jello again. And yet, she would have to move on--from glorious calm--despite the yacht being the one place she'd been forced to connect with her destiny. She'd never forget their time here. Especially the fact that a shimmering bowl of white onyx and indigo could work this kind of magic.
Moving her palms to the glittery hem of what felt like a warped and twisted mess, her hands started to tremble against the loose buttons. Danielle hadn't realized she'd so hastily left a haphazard strip in her fumbling rush earlier. Roman instantly drew his eyes to her struggle when his hand moved into place over hers. Her hands fell to her side almost on impulse, as his fingers moved in to fix it.
Roman was undoing her buttons, slowing unfastening the row as the fabric parted to expose the soft curve of her breasts glinting back at him. He swallowed hard and paused for a moment before he'd fastened each button again slowly. He'd managed to dodge that weakness. But, that would only last mere seconds when his eyes spoke the kind of naughty that she was thinking.
His hunger for her was inching its course as his hand slid underneath the gold hem peeking through to her bronze. Stroking his fingers gently back and forth across the flesh of her stomach, Danielle's heart all but froze, clocking his sweet caress in slow motion. She could have stared into his lush valley of hair that was starting to hypnotize her out of her mind alongside his touch that was becoming crazier by the second.
But then, his hands unexpectedly left her bustier, flowing down to her waist. Barely a second later, Roman had suddenly swept her up into his arms. And, not surprisingly, she'd felt like the damsel carried by her prince of Camelot. For a brief moment, her dreams seemed a reality. But of course, she had no intention of sprinting them on-- for now anyway.
Staying huddled in his warmth, Roman lifted Danielle over the spa as her heels swung near the tiled edge. And then her arms released from around his, the moment her glittery stilettos rolled straight to the deck floor. Holding her waist with his strong hands, she tipped up on her heels and flung her arms around his shoulders as she looked up at him with a pure and sensual desire.
Danielle finessed a tantalizing lure that no man could simply ignore. Even though morning was clocking every minute to the hour.
Her arms were still draped across his when she shifted as if she might kiss him. But, as she went to lower her arms, she felt his arms move against hers. His hands were warm on her shoulders when he suddenly lifted his hands to her hair, "Everything will be fine," he told her as he ruffled the long curls away from her eyes.
On one hand she knew he was being a perfect gentleman, comforting her, shielding her from worry. But he'd seemed overly confident in his tone that sparked mere suspicion trying to creep its way back in when she asked, "How can you be so certain?"
"Just trust me. You've got me with you. We'll get through this together." Just then, he was slowly stroking his cheek against hers, with his hands wrapped back into position around her waist. "I'm here for you Danielle." He kissed her lips softly, "We'll never be apart again."
Their murmuring grew slowly, like waves surfing crests of the deepest waters. Danielle knew the determination to stand strong would pose a threat to their relationship, but she knew she'd had to trust him. Her gut urged her to. And when instinct spoke, this time she would heed it.
With tears in her eyelids she looked up at him for a long second, and smiled, thinking about how their connection was stronger and deeper than it had ever been before. But Roman knew he still had more to prove. He wanted to be the man she could rely on and trust completely-- and he was hell bent on proving himself that man.
Her lips rolled into a naughty pout just before she bowed his head towards her and pressed a kiss to his cheek. As she kissed him, Roman surreptitiously scanned the deck over her shoulder, as variant skies whizzed a haloing orbit of thick gray clouds shadowing the path in and out. There was no one-- not a sound.
And then finally, she breathed a long sigh as her pout suddenly turned consensual. She craned her neck toward the gloom and blew a quick breath just before she said with a nod, "I'm ready."
But then suddenly, something clicked in her head -- about the day they'd met. And, how he'd conveniently appeared out of nowhere. Strangely, a lot of the mess began -- nearing his presence.
For all she knew, he could have been the mastermind behind the scheme to destroy her. Maybe it was part of his secretive plan-- to get close to her. Find out what makes her tick… know her triumphs and struggles. How better to bring her down– than to use her as the scapegoat.
For god's sake, you have got to stop this. She told herself. Trust has to root somehow.
Her heels were just about the only thing glistening across the deck that was mingling daybreak with the clouds still sifting gloom in and out, as she turned to face him. But it didn't make matters any better that life had thrown another one of its curveballs at the wrong time and in the wrong place.
At that moment he gave her a weak smile, as he stood before her. Roman held out a hand to her, as he'd paused, his expression serious. And, surprisingly, she felt a pang of worry surge through her. He could see in the whisper of light that stormed through the rear portico, that this was going to be a fight to the finish.
Danielle slowly smoothed her hair, and sidled back over to the spa to make certain there was no sign of their rendezvous. With a wistful look on her face, she'd nearly made it back to Roman's side when a burly man suddenly sprawled the deck toward them. Roman quickly zoomed in on a long piece of metal littering the deck, and quickly grabbed it just before he'd pum
meled hard into the man's thick chest and back.
The brute was searing dark eyes, with a body built like a ton of bricks. Thick, meaty muscle bulged his black threads, as he raised off the deck no sooner than he fell. Roman blocked his punch and fisted him in the gut, while the metal rod flew from his hands, clanging the deck just before it rolled out of arm's length. The bone crunching went on for several minutes, as the brute fought back like a machine with super-charged batteries.
Danielle knew there were at least four more threatening goons onboard, along with a creeping awareness that they were clearly outnumbered.
Barely a second later, Roman spun towards Danielle, his muscles veining his forehead in a frenetic frenzy. He was hardly taking in his breaths when he told her quickly, "Get to the engine room to shut off the--"
But, a heavy force suddenly wrenched into Roman's words when the meaty arm wrangled him from behind, stiffening him in a chokehold.
Despite the fact Roman had been exchanging blows head-to-toe with a brute the size of a prized-fighter, he'd conveniently remembered in all the uproar that the engine snag had stalled the yacht's departure for any time now. But, there was still a remote chance that they could stall their operation indefinitely.
Danielle's slender arm barely unclenched his beefy muscle when she charged toward him, leaping against his massive shoulder. Her body was dangling like a scrawny acrobat on his beastly frame that suddenly flung her into the steel railing. It was all happening so fast. Roman barely caught a glimpse of her rag doll profile whizzing past his struggle to gain control with the thick arm still wrenched around his throat.
She was sprawled against the rail, when Roman's voice sent a jolt running up through her spine. "Danielle!" he gasped in a choked voice, "The engine room." Danielle knew what she had to do. Well, maybe not exactly. She was no mechanic. She wasn't a nautical expert. But just like everything else in her life, there may have been struggles but she was certain that she'd figure it out with shrewd intelligence, and a little deductive reasoning.
The moment Danielle elbowed herself off the floor; Roman wriggled his torso until he'd managed to suddenly fling the brute off his back, freeing the hold around his neck. But, the brute was still incessant, barreling towards him again. Roman caught her eyes panting, "Go on, I'll take care of him."
The distraction got Roman clobbered over the head, just before he spun into the deck railing. The very moment he slid, the steel daggered his side the instant his body collided with it. He'd barely saw it coming. He'd only felt the sharp-edged metal that pierced into his back with a force that was stiff as a sword and painful in its thrust.
Roman was moving slower still, wailing groans from his mouth that was completely pursed shut. Stumbling for footing, he dropped to his knees, clutching his gut while his eyes rolled open and shut. Then, the next second, his body was careening back and forth, just before he hit the deck floor.
Pulling herself to leave Roman in the midst of struggle, somehow the look on his face told her to be careful without him ever saying a word.
I've gotta hurry. She tried to convince herself that Roman could more than fend for himself. She made herself say, "He'll be just fine." And then she closed her eyes a quick second and murmured... Please let him be fine.
Her breath hitched in her throat, not because she was still worried about him, but she had a task on her hands and she wasn't strapping the oomph that she'd needed. She wasn't sapped of her energy, only wrestling with the peril that still lay eminent.
Moving in the direction of the engine room, Danielle was starting to fluster when she said, "I remember the staircase was..." Her hands were elbowed to her temples for a split second. And then, she paused as her eyes darted ahead, "There it is."
But then, just as she'd ambled a few more steps nearing the flight of stairs, Danielle was stunned by the garish voice that crept out of nowhere straight at the break of her path.
"You stuck up little bitc--" Barton shoved past her, pushing her off balance as he ascended the deck stairs. She teetered, and then fumbled for footing, hanging onto the yacht's sheathing as if it were Velcro.
Barton turned toward her, "You dumb broad. You were a fool to ever think you could destroy me." He circled behind her and suddenly clamped her waist like a nutcracker, as he'd backed into the yacht's hull.
Danielle was snarling just as loud as the striped plaid in his overcoat was calling. "How dare you. Get your freakin hands off me!" She pushed against his arm and pulled at its tight and sturdy grip, just before she dug her spiked heel into the toe of his polished wingtips.
Barton seesawed forward gripping his knees. "Damn y--" He quickly caught a breath, just as the blast of an engine backfired. He felt his temper begin a burn in the vapor as he breathed her name, "Prentiss!"
"And by the way, hasn't anybody ever told you... There's such a thing as peppermint y'know." She turned her nose up at the foul stench reeling all the way through her senses, reeking nearly as bad as the meaty armpit that hauled a truckload of onions.
"You think you're so smart don't 'ya..." Barton curled his lip, and then bit into it just before he'd told her, "You're a fool for believing--"
"No ...You're the fool." Danielle butt in. "You crazy lunatic." She straightened her leather to her shoulders, "What'd you think, you could get away with it?"
"Who's gonna stop me?" His grin rolled toward an insolent smirk, as he regained his stance and said, "Who, you and your boyfriend." Barton's scowled gaze came closer as he studied Danielle's expression.
"He's working for us 'ya know," Barton admitted, as Danielle narrowed her eyes. "Yeah that's right." He cleared his throat, "You heard me right... Guess he didn't tell 'ya that huh?"
Danielle gave a blank stare. She looked down, as if she didn't want to believe it. Matter of fact, she refused to believe it. They're all a bunch of liars. She thought to herself.
She'd tried to hide her reaction. Danielle refused to believe it, once she and Roman had gotten pretty good at reading the other. Roman never doubted her, just like she refused to doubt him now. She just knew in her gut -- she didn't need to convince herself that -- it wasn't true.
Although what came to mind, was the silence-- Danielle hadn't since running into Barton near the steps, heard any of Roman's supposed battling it out. As if he'd gone missing. Suddenly, the seagulls flocking were just about the only thing stirring the yacht, aside from the engine setback and the fist that was wrangling to meet her as its target.
"You're lying. You're a damn liar," she said. Her voice was so loud that it clapped a seagull right off its lacquered perch along the rail. "That's what you are, nothing but a lying coward."
Barton's expression glared an audacious grin, as beads of sweat had begun to drizzle her forehead.
That one word must have hit a nerve in him when suddenly Barton repeated, "Coward, huh?" He barreled toward her and yanked her hair, fisting it into a tight ponytail. Barton pulled her closer, grappling her in a chokehold that had her flesh turn a pale yellow.
"Let go of me," she gasped in a choked voice that made every word fade toward a pitch lower than the previous. The sound of her wail totally underestimated the strength of his muscle rooting deeper. Her hair pulled at the scalp as her head bowed in his strong grasp clamping even tighter by the second.
"I said let g--"
Roman had been out of it for several seconds, looking as if he hadn't an ounce of strength left in him. But he was tougher than defeat. Much tougher. He wasn't about to back down from that weak point that would only last a flash.
Suddenly, Roman's eyes popped open and his chiseled tan quickly smoldered red. His hands sinewy and pulsing fury... His eyes were searing revenge and a wild piranha spirit as his fists tightened and his knuckles surfed the bone.
Roman's head rose up, "It's payback time."
The menace in Roman's low-pitched voice had his eyes light up with a spark of raging fire. The way Roman looked, he wouldn't have been able to stop once he got a hold of
the brute waving his hands in the air like a champion-- so haughty in his ways.
The brute was still relentless, jumping up and down with his fists reeling for battle. That was until Roman suddenly leaped into a karate man of action.
Towering his six-foot-four shadow, Roman sprung the widest angled leg kick that boomeranged into the brute's gut, smacking into his belly with the force of a ton of bricks. He'd never stood a chance in knowing what had hit him the moment Roman's leg gaveled another tomahawk straight into the pit of his stomach.
The brute fell to his knees quickly rising in a huff, as Roman's sweat ladled buckets. Then out of nowhere, Roman came at his burly build, aimed straight for his thick and meaty back. Jumping clear into the air, Roman surged at him with a backward kick that spun so fast it could have played back in stunning slow-motion.
Roman could've pummeled the brute to a pulp. He could've slapped the sweat hosing off him in a torrent until he'd begged for mercy. The goon was panting with the last breath inside of him when Roman's next double side kick instantly knocked him out cold.
There was no time for triumph.
Roman's stomach knotted when he'd heard a scream crush the vibration of the brute plummeting his nose-dive to the deck.
"Danielle!" The peril in Roman's voice shrilled beyond worry that had him bolting with the same fury he'd crushed into Barton's goon only moments ago.
He called out again in desperation, "Danielle!" as he raced down the deck that felt like a maze of obstacle within every crucial second.
Suddenly, the scream muted, as Roman tore clear across the expanse in a mad flash with that same plea of panic. Sudden haze was sifting his sights in and out for a few brief seconds, as it had begun to clear up the moment he'd neared the deck's hull.
Roman closed in on two silhouettes tussling against a narrow corridor of steps. All he'd heard was an eerie shrill and breathless panting, until the echoing of the latter suddenly trailed off before it had completely stopped.