Love Found Me (A City Love Novel, Book 1)

by Amari, Nina

  Suddenly, the feisty fight was gone from her. Barton had knocked Danielle unconscious, dragging her like a lifeless mummy. The eerie sound was louder, escalating even louder by the inch. The shrillness scraping against the steps was the cue that drew Roman's attention.

  Barton had his back toward the deck, pulling her up the stairway, each glittery heel clapping against the riser. A weighted shadow suddenly towered over his when he looked up over his plaid shoulder stunned.

  Barton's pale eyebrows instantly rose way up over his eyes that widened like saucers. "Hey, what are you doin--" Roman tore into his words when he'd yanked the collar of his plaid, bowing Barton's insolent smirk with it.

  Roman's voice lit into the yacht, sending a vibration all through it. Roman meant what he told Danielle, and Barton wasn't about to have him break his promise to protect her. "No one hurts my woman and gets away with it."

  Roman's hair shellacked his forehead like wet plaster, while Barton's pale dubbed a new shade of dull. His glassy eyes sunk behind his barely visible lashes outshining the flash of his pinky ring diamonds.

  Roman was still wild with fury after he'd snuck up behind Barton. And it didn't make matters any better now that he'd had another battle on his hands with Barton's threats.

  Tossing back his sleeves, Roman pinched a vital pressure point in Barton's neck that sent him to his knees, and Danielle tumbling down the staircase.

  "Oh, my god... Danielle!" Roman bolted down the steps to her.

  Her eyes were half-lidded when she'd mouthed to Roman, "Get him."

  Suddenly, Barton barreled into Roman bowed at Danielle's side, jolting him into the side of the stair rail. They both gaveled their way up the steps back up on deck, fisting each other with the fierceness and intensity of a weighted glove.

  The second it took her to realize her man was battling it out for her, she'd realized everything she'd initially thought was totally wrong. Now she'd had more than enough proof to believe the total opposite. He was willing to jeopardize his life for her. He had the guts to fight to the finish... For her-- For love.

  Danielle no longer feared trust. Blaming the losers in her life didn't allow her the chance to move forward-- to rid the negative vibes plaguing her relationships. She'd held back too long pushing papers behind an office door. Now was her time to blossom into something more.

  Suddenly, there was a roar from behind.

  In the midst of the action, it was hard to believe that Danielle had regained her vitality considering she'd been completely out of it for several minutes.

  But, Danielle wasn't about to give Barton the satisfaction of seeing her periled. She'd worked out the panic to a brewing pot of fury, as she'd suddenly rose up. Her slender frame poised monumental. Her eyes were dark and intense when she'd spun a kick so fast, her heel was a weapon in itself, daggering Barton's groin like sharpened scissors.

  Danielle felt like she'd had all the strength in the universe. She was a wild woman with that same fury Roman had. Barton made her so mad. She was so infuriated, she'd charged at him with all the strength her slender frame could hold.

  She hadn't thought at all about the danger. Only rocking his world like he'd rocked hers to a peril. Her career. Her relationships were a victim of his toxic trap.

  Sweat hosed the deck floor as she'd pushed the wet hair from her eyes, plastering her face like a drenched poodle.

  Roman stood in awe. Danielle's jacket buckles clanged against Barton's diamond-encrusted rings, the moment he'd dropped at her side to his knees.

  Barton's eyes rolled back in his head, the second he'd said, "You b----" His wailing drew silent as he fell to the floor, cupping his groin with the clutches of life like there was no tomorrow. He bit down on his hand silently screaming. He felt pure torture stinging, aching and gnawing. Danielle knew he'd deserved every bit and more. She was itching to kick him in the gut for another round. He had it coming.

  She was the victim of being in the wrong element. The victim of a dirty, brazen, whopping multi-million dollar scandal -- massive amounts of money -- a fortune that would chokehold any jackpot.

  She'd been a certifiable fool.

  Danielle regretted her gullible tolerance against Trumball's presence unbeknownst of their trap that was meant to destroy her.

  But, their ordeal had yet to be over.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  After giving Barton a piece of her pointy-toed wrath, she was still blazing a return back to herself.

  "Trumball..." was the one name she'd managed to utter, as she looked straight at Roman. Her panting was relentless. "What about--" Danielle's breath sawed in and out for seconds on end as she fought to edge the words from her mouth. "They're... Going To... Get... Awayyy."

  Danielle's slender frame bowed forward, as she cupped her hands to her knees in full force in an open attempt at rejuvenation. She was sucking in mouthfuls of the sea breeze. Her head tipped toward the deck floor as she waited for the heavy breaths to wane off.

  After a long minute she told him, "They're others." And then she gasped a short breath. "They must be loading the--"

  Shock had immediately cut her words when Roman admitted, "I know." The instant those words hit her, she quickly rose up. Danielle looked quizzical.

  "But..." was the one word she said, followed by a weighty silence. She didn't know what to say. She couldn't even blurt anything for a minute or two, looking into his eyes churning that same shadowy suspicion she swore she wouldn't give any light to.

  Her thoughts instantly sprung into a swirling rationale... Why hadn't Roman gone after Trumball and the rest of the crew? What about the evidence crawling the alcoves of the vessel? All the money and contraband they're hiding? But, her curiosity would be instantly mashed by the sound of Barton's wails butting into her contemplation.

  Even though her words had stopped cold, that didn't mean her brain had checked out of the thought. Danielle's eyes suddenly darted to Barton's annoyance rattling her ears, as he stilled, crouched in agonizing pain.

  She'd never seen Barton look so pathetic. The usually fine-dressed man was a mess of rags. His tattered, ruffled clothes couldn't outshine his scuffed up face that was all scratched and bruised, his nose leaking dark crimson all over his overcoat dotting the pinstripes in his plaid. His handkerchief, a snotty soaked remnant worse than before he'd replaced it.

  Barton's gaze zoomed behind her, as Danielle stood reposed in a breathless attempt to renew her composure. He quickly looked away, hoping she hadn't noticed a gargantuan shadow approaching. He was a seven-foot giant: feet like a clown, arms that rivaled a lamppost, and hands that could've clobbered the moon in his fists.

  Danielle clamped her heel on Barton, pinning him on the deck floor, as Roman's focus drew on the immense shadow forming.

  His seven-foot frame appeared monstrous, even to Roman. All he saw was a dark cloud suddenly entangle and mount his profile as if day had suddenly turned to night.

  The instant Roman fisted him in the gut; he'd felt like he punched a ton of steel bricks. Roman cocked a brow at Danielle just as he saw her poised over Barton, having battled it out with sweat still dripping her brow.

  Roman's veins started to smolder the rage once more. Protection. Honor. Virtue drove his thoughts. Suddenly, he'd shifted into gallant manliness for the woman he loved.

  The gargantuan rumbled a low crusty growl that rattled the deck lights against their sheathing, as he pitched his coat to the floor and stomped toward Roman. At that moment, his massively furred brows snapped together, as he found himself growing dangerously enraged by Roman's prompting. The man was bulging huge rifts in his shirt that appeared to burst as his salivating oozed from his grimly mouth in radial spurts.

  Roman turned and met the eye of the man that was like a toothpick to his self-raging fury. The brute stood like a towering monument. Size didn't matter. Because, what his seven-foot profile didn't know-- was likely going to pummel him.

  The gargantuan didn't stand a chance with Roman's
feet of ferocity, and fists daggering wrath into sharpened blades of lightning. Their fists barely boomeranged, once Roman upped his muscular vigor, exchanging most of the blows. Roman had swung a karate leg double kick-- thrust straight into the pit of his stomach. The brute didn't know what hit him when he skidded across the slick floor nearly missing the foot of a patio table.

  He'd barely edged himself off the floor from the fetal position, when Roman suddenly chiseled a heavy fist into his jaw, coaxing his already smoldering dark eyes into a tease.

  "Wanna piece of me?" Roman was cunning as he spoke, even though he knew the brute was edging to tear the lion out that was certain to be inside of his already thrashed profile.

  But, there certainly wouldn't be any showing of lion this morning, as the brute struggled to regain his footing, zigzagging into the yacht's rim. From where he stood, the rolling waves looked like an infinite canvas of aquamarine flooded with tidal peaks rocketing the horizon line.

  Roman‘s fists were searing red when he punched straight into his face again. And then his fists tightened as he drew another bone surfing, piranha pulsing punch-- straight between the eyes. Clearly, he was no match for Roman's karate belted brawn.

  The monstrosity of a man was out cold-- all in a matter of seconds.

  Danielle didn't say a word as her eyes widened, but Roman could tell she was amazed at how quickly he'd handled the overgrown fiend. "Lucky break huh," he panted. "Told you these hands work like magic."

  Her mouth shifted up into one of her lovely smiles that radiated an intense heat in his already breathless words. She parted her lips to speak, but then she'd realized the scum of the earth lay parked at her side.

  Barton was still crouched when she yanked his collar, jerking his head along with it, "Who's in it with you." She rattled his collar again, "I said," her voice rose an octave, "Who are you working with besides Trumball?" Danielle's sharp eyes skewered Barton's with a vengeance.

  "I'll get him to talk," Roman told her breathlessly.

  "No. Let me," Danielle flat-out insisted on grinding the truth out herself.

  Roman was still panting when Barton's snarling stirred a commotion. His mouth moved up to his infamous smirk when he'd said, "Go to h---"

  How crudely ignorant of him... he's such a rude bastard. Her murmuring amplified increasingly intolerant of Barton while his expression grew even more impassive the instant she told Roman, "Guess he hasn't had enough."

  Danielle drove her nails into his fleshy neck, "Barton, you just don't seem to get it do you? Hurting people is not okay."

  "What do you call this?" Barton responded, his words curt and rough. "Child's play." He seesawed in an attempt to free himself from her firm grip. He didn't let up. "Get your claws off me! ... You crazy--"

  She cut him off. "You're not..." She started her words, but then she'd paused while her hands plowed into his neck with a deeper piercing force. "I'm telling you that you're not going to get off easy, you slimy fraud."

  She pinched a nerve that had beads of sweat saucing his wispy lashes. Barton was fixated on payback. He hated her interference and divulgence into their massive scheme. But, the feeling was more than mutual, considering the way he'd treated her.

  Her dark eyes were brooding shears to Barton's cold lifeless stare-- devoid of any feeling.

  Barton was still on his knees in graveling position. He looked like every bone in his body was hedging a plea for mercy. But then, Danielle held no mercy in the palm of her own hands. Once again, her pinch suddenly tightened a clamp to his jaw, quickened with a pointy-toe kick aimed straight between his legs where it had hurt him the most.

  The moment she'd given him the stare that said, I'm warning you, Barton knew that he didn't care to find out what she was going to do to him next.

  She could have torn his guts out, when suddenly he pleaded, "Okay. Okay. I'll tell you." He choked on his breath cupping his groin. "I'll tell you everything. Just get that crazy broad away from me."

  The very next moment, her eyes darted to Trumball on a small watercraft fleeing the yacht, just as Barton rose up on the rail with his arms flailing, yelling, "HEY! HEY! YOU TRAITOR!"

  Almost at once, chaos was headed for an uproar. But then, the scene quickly shifted to shrinking panic nearly seconds later. Zipping against a torrent of waves, an army of vessels rumbled on and on until flashing lights surrounded the yacht nearing morning's edge.

  Sirens roared along the banks of the shore, flickering alarm that wrestled rays bursting goldenrod. Then, without delay, a powerful command riled over unsteady waters...

  "WE HAVE THE VESSEL SURROUNDED --"

  The megaphone roared loud and clear, vibrating a pinch of wave against the yacht's anchor, as another fleet of vessels gathered speed against the tides.

  When suddenly, the sun burst over the yacht, marbling both their eyes in a renewed state of calm. It was a new layer of resolve.

  It was the sound of triumph.

  "Oh. That was awfully quick. But how'd they know--" Danielle nodded, leaning close so she could hear Roman's voice over the sound of the local fleet motoring closer. She shook her head, "Ohhh."

  Roman was struck by how well she'd handled herself with those goons. Still, they had whatever backlash teetered on the brink of destroying her credibility and reputation.

  Danielle swallowed hard, almost crying, remembering how just days ago her entire world was shattered. The morning unfolded in a parade of interrogation, and finally officials were confident her testimony would bring the felons to justice.

  Roman proved more than the man she had expected, but even though she was amazed by what he'd done to protect her, she still had to wonder how Roman played into the scheme of things and piece together what had happened.

  Making their way to the pier, Danielle was looking up at Roman when she said, "It wasn't just Barton and Trumball."

  The look on his face told her that she hadn't begun to know the half of it, when he said, "I know."

  He was very suave and cavalier, considering his attire poured patches of sweat in and out. But he knew what she had to be thinking. It was logical. It was what anyone would want to know, considering his earlier behavior.

  Just then Danielle remembered Roman admitting a vague familiarity of the situation to which he'd never answered. But she'd just brushed it off aside from the fact she'd been tending to her stint with Barton's neck, and a warranted confession.

  Standing at the foot of the pier, she felt a chill raise up her spine as she realized quite clearly, there was nothing he could say that would cause her to leave him-- ever.

  But still, she wanted closure.

  "But how'd you?" She asked instead, "How'd you ever get involved... How did you know about me... about all of this in the first place?"

  "That's what I couldn't tell you." Roman nodded before turning back to Danielle to explain, "You were a pawn in their plan. But they didn't expect with your promotion, you'd be drudging up all their dirt. They knew you were smart, and that it was only a matter of when." He directed her attention to the seized contraband being hoisted from the hull of the yacht.

  "They had to beat you to it... nail you, before you nailed them," he said. "And that's where I come in."

  He perked a small smile saying, "Well, let's just say I'm a consultant. I'm the guy they call... what I mean by they, are all the officials who can't figure their way around a server, and all that technically complex and complicated jargon... just any and everything techie...”

  “I'm the man they call when they need an expert eye. I get a pretty penny for the trouble. Bad choice of words... let's just say that I get down to the bones of the recovery schemes to help bring the bad guys to justice."

  Roman explained to her, "We'd been working this for months. It all stemmed from Peterson and Macgregor who hired Barton to set up a bunch of dummy corporations..."

  "Shells you mean..."

  "Yeah, they were running all this through your buddy Josh and he in turn coaxed Aman
da Zeckler into their scheme."

  "You mean all of them--" she hedged, before giving a quick shake of her head. "I should have known Amanda would have been involved."

  Watching seagulls circling the length of the pier, Danielle paused and took a deep breath of the fresh air, the refreshing spurt of mist drizzling her lungs with salt water.

  "I'd almost completely ruled out Peterson as the brains behind the scheme until I found Macgregor's reports lying around the private office I told you about." Actually, Danielle had her suspicions confirmed ever since that confidential letter stirred up the notion suggesting accounting improprieties. She'd discovered Barton was involved in something underhanded, but she'd needed proof to divulge the man behind the phony corporations. "And then I pieced two and two together," she added.

  "You're quite a woman. You're something." Roman walked a couple steps nearing the fish lapping under the weatherworn plank. Bowing toward their playful splashing, he'd stopped for a quick second before he moved back towards her.

  He was facing her. Waiting. Watching. Wondering could she tell he was inching to fire their passion back up from where they'd left off.

  Roman caught a glimpse of bright orange and yellow slither beneath a slit in the hammered timber just before he looked at her flesh still percolating tiny remnants of sweat. It was making him hot. Even hotter the more he zoomed his eyes to her bronze shimmering.

  He was still zoning in on her beauty amidst the aquatic ambience, his head swirling thoughts. She's something quite special in fact. But he knew there would be plenty of time for all of that later.

  Pulling himself from his digression he said, "Yep. Pure and simple-- fraud... They're all a bunch of money-grubbing asses--"

  Her easy smile quickly shifted to a more serious point. "I can't believe all this time I've been--" she paused and took another deep breath, angling her sights past his shoulder. The yacht looked modest now from her vantage point. Not at all like the great behemoth that had always stood to dominate the entire harbor. She'd fought the emotions tending to rise up as she stared into its profile circling a captive audience in uniform.