Ripple (Persy & Sully) (Seaside Valleria #2)

by Marianne Knightly

  “Yes, sir. I would become a Vallerian officer in full?”

  Cap’s eyes narrowed. “Do you find anything wrong with being an officer of the MPF?”

  Shit. He’d better tread carefully. “No, sir, of course not. I’m just trying to understand the implications of this opportunity.”

  Cap full-out smiled. He’d never seen the Cap smile like that before, except in a picture he kept on his desk of him and his family.

  “Good man. There are two or three potential opportunities. If you perform perfectly—and I mean not a shoe unshined level of perfection—the first option is a permanent transfer into the MPF at your current rank. We’d even try to transfer your benefits and retirement over as well. I can’t guarantee that, but we’d try our best. If that doesn’t work out, it means you’d have to work longer overall to achieve retirement.”

  Holy Christ.

  Cap leaned forward, linking his hands again and resting them on his desk. “A second option would be to extend your current assignment. It would be up to your superiors in Ireland to approve that. However, you would still be an Irish officer on assignment in Valleria, based here in Masillia. Though permanence is not guaranteed, it could be renewed on a yearly basis.”

  Cap sat back again. “There is a third option. Did you know that the Chief received a call from Prince Alexander this afternoon?”

  Shit! If the prince had called the chief, and they were still keeping him around, the call must not have been too bad. “No, sir.”

  “It’s unusual to receive a call directly from a royal, even for a chief of police. Since Prince Lorenzo lives in Masillia, the Chief has dealt with Prince Marcello and the RPS staff on a number of occasions.”

  Prince Marcello was also Valleria’s Minister of Security and Defense and oversaw the Royal Protection Service, as well as the armed services, intelligence agencies, and the police forces. “Yes, sir, that’s understandable.”

  “But to receive a call from a future king…well, that certainly pricked the Chief’s ears up. You apparently made a good impression on the prince, and therefore the Chief is considering keeping you here. Therefore, the third option piggybacks off the first: become a member of the MPF but instead of the officer post you hold now, there is the possibility you could go on assignment as liaison to some of Valleria’s other organizations.”

  “Sir?”

  “I’ll be straight with you. I’m talking about working under Prince Marcello and his men, either on assignment with the RPS, the armed forces, going undercover…it could open up a world of opportunity and professional experiences to you.”

  Shit. He was speechless. “I…I don’t know what to say, sir.”

  “Don’t say anything just yet. Nothing we’re discussing here is an official offer. As I said, I’d need you to be on your best behavior in order for me to advocate on your behalf for any of this. But you can start thinking about which, if any, of those possibilities might be interesting to you, and then get back to me so I can prepare accordingly. One more thing you should know: if you choose to become an MPF officer, you’d need to become a Vallerian citizen and give up your Irish citizenship. Dual citizenship is not allowed for MPF officers, or Vallerian police officers in general.”

  He sucked in a breath. Not surprising, now that he thought about it, but it was still unexpected. “I see.”

  “It’s a lot to think about. You could, of course, take your leave at the end of your assignment and return to Ireland as well.”

  The Cap stood and did he, too. “You’ve got a month to think about it. If you have any questions, let me know. Otherwise, I expect we’ll each have our answers in a month’s time.”

  When the Cap held out his hand, Sully shook it. “Thank you, sir. However things turn out, please know that I’m honored by your consideration.”

  The Cap nodded and dismissed him, and Sully turned to go. At the door, the Cap called out to him.

  “Yes, sir?”

  Cap had a wry grin on his face. “I should also mention that your wife, if she were not yet a citizen, would also be able to gain citizenship if you were an MPF officer.”

  There was a difference in the way fellow officers teased, as opposed to the way senior officers teased. Senior officers, who knew you couldn’t fight back, were much worse. “I am not married, sir.”

  “Oh, I know. Yet, I think you may find that information useful, no?”

  “Anything else, sir?”

  Cap chuckled. “No, Sullivan. You’re dismissed.”

  As Sully walked away, he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He’d always figured he would go home at the end of his assignment. Yet, now, he might have options.

  Extend his assignment and stay an Irish citizen in Valleria.

  Give up his Irish home, and make a permanent move to Valleria, with the chance for greater professional success in one of two ways.

  Or, do as he’d originally thought, and go home to Ireland.

  Cap had stated multiple times that Sully couldn’t be a liability if he wanted to stay in Valleria, and that he’d need to be on his best behavior. Yet, Sully had made it all year without anything negative until this video, so he didn’t see that as an issue.

  He thought of his ma, sisters, and his nephews. If he told them a prince and the Chief were talking about him, they wouldn’t think him immature then, would they? Then again, if he moved to Valleria permanently, they wouldn’t be keen on that, either.

  His thoughts flitted to Persy. He knew she would factor into his decision, though he wasn’t sure how yet. He’d have to discuss this with her. Not tomorrow night. That date wasn’t going to be about him.

  Soon, though. Soon.

  Chapter Four

  Sully knocked on Persy’s door and he realized it was the first time he’d done it. Every other time he’d been here, she’d been with him. He’d never picked her up—except to throw her on the bed, though that was a different sort of picking up—had never even given her the courtesy of it.

  It made him feel as though he’d been using her. It wasn’t true, not entirely; they’d used each other. Now, though, the realization made him feel uncomfortable.

  He hated feeling uncomfortable.

  He heard her shoes get louder as they made their way towards the door—he’d never seen her in heels, either, since she never wore them to work—and she opened it a moment later.

  Fuck, but she looked good. Different, yet just the same. He still saw her eyes: a blue so fathomless he wanted to lose himself there. Earrings like Millie usually wore dangling from her ears, that featured stones in a blue that brought out her eyes and a green that reminded him of Ireland. He still saw her body: valleys of curves dressed in clothes nicer than what she wore to work. Dark jeans, a deep green shirt, and a blazer that looked classy but not formal. His eyes inched down and caught sight of her boots peeking out from the hem of her jeans.

  Then he was imagining fucking her with those boots on and nothing else.

  His cock twitched, and he tried reciting police code in his head for a moment to calm down.

  His body began to stir—it always did with her—but tonight wasn’t for sex. It was about proving they could be more than just sex to each other.

  “Sully?” Her voice wasn’t the confident, self-assured Persy he’d come to know.

  “You’re beautiful, honey.”

  She flushed and glanced down. “It’s the clothes. They’re Millie’s.”

  He tilted her chin up with his forefinger. “It’s you. Clothes don’t make the woman, the woman makes the clothes.”

  “Oh.”

  “You ready to go?”

  She nodded. “Let me just grab my purse.”

  She walked back to her bed to pick it up, then came back to him. She swung the strap over her neck to wear it as a crossbody and locked the door. “Where are we going?”

  “One of my favorite places.” Then, because he wanted to and, for some reason unknown to him, he needed to, he reached over to ho
ld her hand. It was the first time they’d held hands outside of bed.

  She seemed startled at first, but didn’t pull away and relaxed into him. “What kind of place is it?”

  He frowned, realizing there was something else he didn’t know about her. “Is there anything you don’t eat? Anything you’re allergic to?”

  “Oh. Er, not really. I don’t like red meat or pork.”

  “We’re doing seafood tonight. It’s a local place Hector told me about.”

  “Oh.”

  He glanced down at her and frowned when he saw her frown. Why was she upset? Maybe she didn’t want seafood? Maybe she didn’t want to go out with him at all? “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she said far too quickly.

  He halted them in the middle of the sidewalk, her boots clicking to a stop. The night was fine and he’d felt a walk to the restaurant, and a chat along the way, would help them both relax a little. Now, he vaguely wondered if he should drive them down to the restaurant, in case her shoes were made for looking and not walking.

  “Talk to me, honey.”

  She looked away and tried to break her hand free from him; he held on tighter.

  “If you don’t want to go out tonight, we don’t have to. We can reschedule.” Like hell he wanted to reschedule, but he’d do it for her.

  He was coming to realize that he’d probably do most anything for her.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Do you want to drive? It’s not far, about a thirty-minute walk, but—”

  “I can walk.” She turned to go and tried to slip her hand out from his again.

  “Where are you going?”

  Her brows furrowed. “To the restaurant.”

  “Do you know which one we’re going to?”

  She rubbed her lips together. “No.”

  He just quirked an eyebrow until she finally sighed.

  “I’m no good at this.”

  “At what?”

  She gestured between them. “This. Whatever this is. Dating. I’m no good at it.”

  He wanted to pull her closer, but knew it wasn’t the right time. “Why would you say that?”

  “I don’t even know what to say to you. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Who says we need to say anything right now? We’ve walked together plenty and we rarely talked then.”

  “This is a date. It’s different.”

  “You’re right; this is a date.” Now, he pulled her closer. “But we’re still the same people. It’s me, Sully, and you, Persy. Same people, different destination.”

  “It’s not exactly the same.”

  He put an arm around her shoulders and started walking them towards the restaurant. “That’s true. We’re not having sex tonight, for one.”

  She stumbled in her steps, but he kept her from falling. “We’re not?”

  He shook his head. “Tonight’s about getting to know each other. I’d say we know each other’s bodies pretty well, don’t you?”

  “Um, I guess so.”

  He held back a grin. “Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of time to explore on our next date.”

  She stumbled again. “Next date?”

  He nodded. “Next night we’re both off.”

  “But what if I screw this one up? You might not want another one.”

  He stopped and turned her, once again pulling her close. “Get this, honey: I don’t care what happens tonight. I want to know more about you. If you decide you don’t want to know more about me, fine. We’ll talk about it. But, if we don’t move forward, it’s because we talked and made that decision together. It won’t be because I decided we shouldn’t be together anymore.”

  She frowned. “But the other night, you said you’d made a decision that we were going to be together and it didn’t matter what I wanted.”

  Shit. He’d screwed up all kinds of things with her, hadn’t he? He supposed since he’d never really had a relationship before he was bound to make mistakes and correct them as he was about to do. “I was wrong to say that. I meant the words, but I should have tried talking to you then, like we’re talking right now. What you want does matter.”

  “You say that now.”

  “And I’ll say it later, too.”

  Her eyes were heavy with some indescribable emotion, and his gut clenched at the sight of it.

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You might learn something about me you don’t like and want to end this.”

  Shit. What was in her past that she was scared of? “I won’t make promises I can’t keep.”

  He leaned down and kissed her lips. The breeze wove around them, shifting her hair and his. The cool scent of the sea in spring came with it, reminding him about their destination. It was a nice night and the streets were filled with quiet conversations and the occasional car. It was a night for sitting outside and enjoying the peace of spring before the heat of summer.

  He pulled back and tucked her against him. Walking slowly, without talking, they made their way through the streets. She began to relax against him and her own arm eventually slid around his waist.

  Progress.

  Persy relaxed little-by-little as they walked closer to the sea. She’d almost managed to calm completely by the time they made it to the white stone steps that led to their restaurant, but when Sully stiffened at the top of the steps, she froze, too.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He gave her hip a squeeze. “Nothing. Just glad I got us a reservation, considering the crowd. Though I think the crowd is due to the fact the princes are here, this time with more of the royal family.”

  Any bit of relaxed she’d achieved disappeared with her next breath. What if the little princess was here? “Do we need to greet them?”

  “No. I’ve been trained on these situations. If I come across a royal in an unofficial capacity, as this is, and there isn’t a security threat, I’ve been told to leave them alone. Let’s just head to our table.”

  She chanced a glance at the royals as they made their way to the table, but she only saw adults.

  No children.

  No little princess.

  Still, everything that had happened yesterday flooded back and she stiffened up again.

  He helped her sit then sat down himself. “What’s wrong? You want to go somewhere else?”

  Her eyes flitted to the table filled with royals. God, what must they think of her? Maybe that was conceited, thinking they’d remember her—they were royalty, for God’s sake—but she’d remember a woman who’d slapped an officer in front of her, so maybe they would, too. “That might be best. I’m embarrassed.”

  “Why?”

  “I slapped you in front of them, in front of one of their children. I…” She buried her face in her hands and shook her head.

  Children. She couldn’t even think of the word without her past reaching out and grabbing her heart in a fist.

  He pulled one hand away and her other hand followed suit. “If you want to go somewhere else, we can. They don’t seem the type of people to be cruel to a woman who needed help.”

  “I—” He was right. She took a deep breath. She wouldn’t cry. “No, you’re right.”

  “Do you want switch chairs? That way you won’t have to see them.”

  She pursed her lips then shook her head. “No. No, I’ll be okay.”

  “Honey, you shouldn’t be just okay. You deserve more than okay.”

  Her breath caught. After she’d left her village in Ireland, it had taken a long time for her to get to ‘okay’. For her, ‘okay’ was an amazing achievement.

  For the first time in a long time, she wondered what it would be like to have more than just ‘okay’. “Sully. That…that’s really sweet.”

  He kissed her hand. “So, you want to switch seats?”

  She considered that but decided against it. So many things in her life she hadn’t seen coming. If the royals—little chance though there was of this—came over to make a scene, at leas
t she’d see them coming.

  She committed herself to try and enjoy the night. She didn’t need to talk about anything serious or her past, not if it didn’t come up. If it did, she’d deal with it then.

  She took off her purse and set it aside. “No. Let’s just get on with our evening.”

  He nodded to her, then flagged the waiter. “Drink?”

  “Wine. White, since we’re having seafood.”

  He ordered for her and ordered the same for himself.

  She nodded to the royal table. “So, have you met everyone at the table?”

  He glanced over. “I know of them, as all cops are trained on the royal family and royal protocol. Prince Alexander I met yesterday morning. Lorenzo and his fiancée I’ve met. I haven’t met the others: Princess Rebecca, Prince Nathaniel or his girlfriend, Charlotte.”

  “Princess Rebecca’s very nice. She and Prince Alexander have been into the Seashell before. They’re always in the news, though I haven’t seen her recently. I think she stopped doing public engagements and travel for a while to handle some projects at the palace, or something like that.” That was the reason the royal press office gave, at any rate. “Frannie always talks about Charlotte, though. She’s supposedly a very good baker and chef.”

  Their drinks arrived as she was speaking, and the waiter spoke up while he poured the wine. “You are correct, miss. Lady Charlotte is an excellent baker and an esteemed chef. Her presence here tonight has made our chef very happy.”

  Sully leaned back in his chair. “Is that so? I know she runs the Vallerian Palace kitchen, but I didn’t realize she was titled.”

  The waiter smiled. “That is a title the people have bestowed upon her. Though she is not an official princess, we certainly treat her like such. The same with Lady Cecilia, though we will, of course, call her princess after the wedding. Would you like to order?”

  He turned to Persy. “Bouillabaisse all right with you? It’s very good here.”

  The waiter puffed up. “It is the very best here, sir.”

  She smiled for the first time that evening. “Then that’s what we’ll have.”

  “Very good.”