by Dana Volney
“Don’t go.”
Her hand froze mid turn as his words registered. His deep voice was huskier.
She squared her shoulders and slowly turned around. Did he want to have the last word … or call off the divorce?
Her gaze found him in the same spot she’d left him—standing in front of the kitchen island, arms crossed. His head was sunk, and she focused on the long curve of his neck.
“Why?” She had so many more questions, but that was the biggie.
Her throat tightened. If the words professional security came out of his mouth, she was going to kill him for toying with her feelings.
She stepped closer to Felix, stopping at the short edge of the island.
“You want a new start. Start here.” His gaze rose and found her eyes. They were soft. Loving.
She wasn’t talking to military Felix; she was talking to her lover. Yet cues she normally looked for in his stance, the severity of his frown, the creases at the sides of his eyes, the muscle in his jaw, suddenly didn’t compute into a firm answer of his objective. She couldn’t judge his intended meaning without adding what she wanted to see, to hear, to feel. She was over being impartial when it came to Felix.
The envelope on the counter hadn’t been touched. Her life was sealed in that pocket. She should probably be grateful to Darek in some way—his hunt had led her to Felix and the realization that he wasn’t just part of her past that she had tucked away. He was a part of her. She loved life with him a hell of a lot more than she liked it without.
He was her everything.
“Say what you mean.” She gazed back to him, finding comfort in the blue of his stare. There was a time and place for their fun games. Now was not one of them.
His chest rose high before falling. “I don’t want a divorce.”
“And what does that look like in your world?” She shook her head. The status quo didn’t work for her anymore. She needed all of him or nothing. “We see each other once a year? That doesn’t work for me.” Before he could offer her some half-ass solution he thought would appease her, she continued. “I want everything. I want to love and live in the same home. I want to make a home. I want a new job with a purpose. I want kids.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve already asked for a discharge.”
“Good.”
“Good?” To which part?
“Yeah.” He stood inches away from her; his woodsy scent flowed over her and drew her in. “We can have all of that. Together.”
Her hair swooshed over her cheeks as she shook her head. “What makes you so sure we can make it this time? Our track record sucks.”
He grabbed the tan envelope and tore it in two, throwing the pieces back onto the counter. Her wedding band bounced on the counter and settled in the middle of them. Neither made a move for the little, diamond-encrusted silver ring that had once been a symbol of their love.
“Because this time we’re all in.” He searched her eyes, his entire being focused on her. “I know I am.”
His palms swept up her forearm to her shoulders then her neck. His thumb caressed her jawline and her entire body buzzed with anticipation. It was happening. A once-farfetched reality was at her fingertips. And she had no idea what to say.
“I’m in love with you, Mrs. Ibarra. I can’t see my life without you.” He kissed her lips gently, and then his gaze melted her little by little, promising her the world. And knowing Felix, he wouldn’t stop until she had just that. “Please stay.”
“It won’t be easy.” The sting of tears pinched at her cheeks.
“It never is with us. We’re fighters though. I think that’s why I love you so much, my wife.” He kissed her again, a long lazy kiss that made her forget where she was.
He reached for the ring, held it between his thumb and index finger, and smiled. He slipped the band on her ring finger and kissed the top of her hand.
He swept her up into his arms and carried her toward his bedroom. His kisses were heaven and felt like home. “I’ve always loved you, my husband.”
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Crimson Romance and Tara Gelsomino for being such an awesome publisher! You are a fun and accomplished group of people who make the process enjoyable every step of the way. Thank you for continuing to let me be a part of your business. The lively and professional environment you’ve cultivated is one of which I’m proud to be a part. And, Stephanie Riva, thank you for your eagle eyes during copy edits (you definitely are our shark as Julie puts it)!
To my editor, Julie Sturgeon, thank you times a billion. This is, by far, the most fun I’ve had reading your edits, and, ya know, working on the story as a whole. There are so many emojis I’d like to put here, but I’ll use my words. I cannot believe this is the SEVENTH project we’ve worked on together. Here’s to beating the record—we can do it! I’ve enjoyed every last minute—even the hard ones when you say that there needs to be a motivation attached to an emotion or argument, but especially the ones when you say that I satisfied your smart-ass soul.
Jami Wagner, remember that time I was almost done with the first draft of a manuscript and you came over for dinner and we brainstormed about what the heck was happening in the plot and what in the world my heroine stole and I told you this convoluted story with my hands flying every which direction and you looked at me like I was a ball of crazy and helped me sort through the jumble? Yeah, me too. Thanks for keeping me on task, being a friend, motivator, and all-around cool person.
To my first friend in the publishing industry, Mary Billiter, thank you for being a part of my support system (for more than writing) and your encouragement.
To my unfailingly supportive family, thank you for championing me. I appreciate you more than I’ll ever be able to express. And, Dad, thank you for being my go-to gun expert.
Hola to all my Wednesday night writing mates: our lively discussions, laughter, and friendships go a long way!
Thank you to my friends, family, and readers who have and continue to support my dreams. You inspire me every day and are appreciated!
About the Author
Dana Volney lets her imagination roam free in Wyoming, where she writes romances and helps local businesses succeed with her marketing consulting company. Surrounding herself with good friends and family, and boating on the lake whenever she can, she thrives on moments and memories created with loved ones, especially on sun-filled days. That’s when Wyoming’s charm really sinks in. Dana is bold, adventurous, and—by her own admission—good with plants, having kept a coral cactus alive for more than one year.
Protecting His Heart
A Wyn Security Novel
Dana Volney
[email protected]
Crimson Romance: Romantic Suspense
Computer word count: 50,369
A Sneak Peek from Crimson Romance
Protecting the Prince
Dana Volney
“Wipe that damn smile off your face,” Franklin Black’s voice rasped.
Eliam Prince raised his eyebrows and stared at his stepfather’s beady eyes, tailored pinstriped suit, and indignant stance. This was never your company, old man.
“I’ll have your things boxed up and sent to you.” Eliam unbuttoned the last button on his steel-gray suit jacket and sat in the oversized sherry-colored leather chair—the president’s seat. His rightful seat. “Louis will show you out.” He nodded to Prince Industries’ head of security.
Franklin slammed his thick whiskey glass against the credenza lined with a fully stocked bar in crystal containers of all shapes and sizes. “This isn’t the end.” His scowl cut across the expanse of the office and satisfaction settled into Eliam’s chest.
Oh yes, it was. It was the end of bad times and the first day of a turnaround that would make a positive legacy for his family—he was going to make the company what it once had been. Great. Franklin had never been welcome, not by Eliam. And vice versa. The only thing they’d ever had in common was his mother, and now she was gon
e. The pain that tightened his chest after a month remained fresh and rampant.
“My mother’s shares are now mine, not yours, and the board agrees it’s time for ownership to be restored to blood.” Eliam’s words were clipped, but that wasn’t nearly as rude as leaping from his seat to strangle the man who had already taken so much from him would be.
Easy, man, you won’t get it all back in a day.
Eliam nearly had to pinch his wrist, inconspicuously of course, to see if this was just another dream. Eight years of putting up with his stepfather lording it over what his mother and real father did wrong—never right—all while profits tanked under Franklin’s watch. Those long years had felt like a lifetime, and now the nightmare was finally over.
Louis corralled Franklin and led him out of Eliam’s office to the elevator. Eliam tuned out Franklin’s echoing angry words: you won’t make it, you have no idea what you’re doing. He’d never have to hear that asshole’s voice again—and that would still be too soon.
Eliam looked up from his laptop to see Louis Jackson filling half of the doorway. He could’ve seen only Louis’s outline and would’ve known it was him by the edges of his pressed, short-sleeved shirt, Dockers, and flattop haircut.
“That went as well as expected.” Louis grabbed a beer from behind the credenza and sat on the black leather couch in the middle of the office. “There’s a screw loose with that one. I think we have a problem.”
“Problem?” It was over—he’d been voted out, unanimously.
“I think we need to get you personal security for a while.”
“Not necessary. He’s harmless.” Eliam leaned back in his chair and peered out the wall of windows at the downtown Seattle lights shining from tall buildings and stacked dwellings. From his vantage point, the waterfront was peaceful on the cool, September night.
“Desperate men do desperate things.” Louis shook his head and drank from his beer.
There’d always been an edge to Franklin, a ruthlessness that seemed a little too close to the surface for Eliam’s comfort. But surely Louis was going overboard painting him as a minion from the dark side—there had to be some good for such a kind, gentle, selfless woman like Eliam’s mother to love him. In tomorrow’s light of day, everyone would settle the hell down and business would go back to normal. Greed, incompetence, recklessness, and pride were not pleasant family dinner topics, but they weren’t criminal either.
“He’ll get over it.” Why in the hell were they talking about Franklin? He didn’t matter anymore. “He has no recourse.”
I’ve won.
Franklin was lucky there was nothing Eliam could do to take the money his mother had left the old man. If Eliam contested the will, her decision to give him her ownership would be questioned as well, and leaving Franklin destitute wasn’t worth the risk. Same went for Franklin—both men were at an impasse where her will was concerned.
“A man like that always thinks he has options. And they aren’t usually nice ones.” Louis’s dark skin personified his darkening eyes. Louis had been a part of the company since Eliam’s dad, Amit Prince, had started it. And although he’d been in and out due to his military service, only Louis knew the company as well as Franklin and Eliam.
“He should crawl back under the rock he came from, with my family’s money by the way.” Eliam opened his email and clicked on a recent one from Ann, his assistant. He was done with this conversation.
They should be toasting his promotion from vice president to president. Lord knew he didn’t have anyone else to go cheers with. His ears started to ring, and he swallowed to shoo away the mourning he hadn’t yet allowed himself for his mother. He didn’t know how to believe she was gone, that he was alone. He’d make his mom proud—he’d honor both of his parents by turning the company around. That would keep him going and them close to his heart.
“Do you trust my judgment?” Louis asked.
Eliam raised a brow and folded his hands in his lap. “Of course.”
“Call this number.” Louis pulled a card from his wallet. “Hire them.” He walked across the room with purpose—always with purpose anywhere he went—and practically shoved the card into Eliam’s hand.
“Wyn Security?” A bright red card with the company name, phone number, and the tagline “24/7 We Surround You” balanced between his thumb and index finger. “Aren’t you supposed to be my security?”
“They provide a different level of protection.” Louis glanced at the card and then back at Eliam.
There was a hint of warning in Louis’s steady gaze. A pit of caution sank in Eliam’s gut.
“We have tons of people around here for security.”
“You need them. Make the call.” Louis took two steps toward the door then turned around. “If nothing else, do it so I can sleep at night. I’m getting old.” Then he disappeared.
I don’t need babysitters. He was a responsible adult with a grown-up job who could protect himself. Nothing was going to get in his way of doing what he needed to do to make Prince Industries the top shipping company in the world—not Franklin, not bodyguards, not anything.
He pocketed the red card then busied himself with email and the stack of paperwork on his desk. When he grabbed the fifth folder in his pile, a picture slipped out and onto his keyboard. The smiling faces of his mom and dad stared back at him. He leaned back in his chair and flipped the picture over out of habit—his mom always wrote on the back to document the people, date, and location. The other man in the photo was their first client—Alan Bean.
I’ll make it right. This company will be great again and then you’ll always be remembered.
• • •
Winter Wyn sped through the highway traffic on I-5 heading north into Seattle. “Get out of the way, you fool,” she shouted in her empty black Durango at a car that merged into her lane and almost into her.
Her dickhead of a client hadn’t bothered to tell her or her team he had an after-party to attend at the downtown Westin. There’d been no security checks conducted and nothing coordinated with the hotel. Unpreparedness was not a motto she lived by—it was something she actively avoided. Assholes—they want my help, but then they don’t want to listen. Some of them most certainly deserved what she usually saved them from. And then they didn’t even pay on time, either.
“Boss.” Felix Ibarra’s voice boomed from her cell phone between her thighs. The handy tap-to-talk function made it easy for her team to stay linked constantly. They only called when they didn’t want the conversation to be overheard.
“Yeah.” She checked her rearview mirror—Felix, her second-in-command, was close behind. They’d left Eddie Dever with the client, and the other two members of her team, Amelia Roe and Mieko Noor, were in California escorting a client until tomorrow night.
“I just got off the phone with the event coordinator. A couple of the other guests have had security check in. Nothing out of the ordinary. I actually know one of the teams.”
“Good…” Her phone beeped, but she didn’t recognize the incoming number. “Hold on, I have another call.” She clicked over and held the phone to her ear. “This is Winter.”
“Hel-lo, Winter.”
The unmistakable voice of an old friend warmed her heart—Louis would always have a place there.
“Hey there, buddy, ol’ pal. Finally in the mood for that cup of coffee I owe you?” She delivered their standard coffee banter and swerved around a car in time to take the downtown exit.
“Yes, it’s been too long.” There was a hesitation in his voice, one she knew all too well from years of his being her commanding officer.
“Okay, tell me why you really called.” She braced herself, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. Louis was an excellent man, heroic even, but small talk wasn’t his strong suit.
“Eliam Prince at Prince Industries needs your services.”
Does he now? Louis had never recommended her company before.
But he had mentioned in th
e downtimes during their tour in Afghanistan and Iraq what he did back in Seattle. “Didn’t think you liked the guy in charge.”
He hefted a chuckle. “Good memory, but this isn’t the same guy. This is the guy who should’ve been in charge all along. Franklin was ousted today, and I think he’s looking for revenge.”
If Louis was calling for help, something was wrong, something he couldn’t take care of on his own. Which would be…what? Louis knew how to solve everything.
“How real of a threat are we talking?” She made sure to use her blinker in the thick downtown traffic, even though Felix knew where they were going.
“Franklin is trouble. I know it in my gut.”
The man’s gut had never been wrong.
“Franklin?”
“Stepfather. Nasty man.”
The Prince Industries’ change of power, since the passing of its matriarch, had been all the rage in the news today and, by all accounts, conflict free. Prince Industries was one of three major players in the worldwide shipping arena, so the transfer had been covered well.
“And I assume he has the means to be nasty, as you say?” Winter tried picturing the type of man Louis would see as a threat: slippery, powerful, and deviant.
“Unlimited and will steer clear of being implicated. Eliam isn’t taking this seriously at all, and he’s headstrong. Use your classic Wyn charm on him.”
“You want me to break his finger?” She grinned.
“The other kind of charm. I know you have it in you…deep down.” There was a smile in his voice. “He’ll listen to you.”
She nodded in the darkness and braked for a light. “They always do. Eventually.”
“Hopefully it’s not too late when he comes around.” Louis paused and she knew the dark place his mind had detoured.
She was picturing it, too. Louis had taught her damn near everything she knew in the army—well, the good anyway; the bad had been instilled in her long before she’d met her former commanding officer. Louis’s wasn’t the only command she’d been under during her ten years of service, but his was where she started to become the person she was now.