by Sharon Wray
“Yeah?” Cain said. “And who the hell are you?”
Juliet put her hand on the man’s shoulder. “Calum Prioleau is the man who owns the gym, the mansion where you’ll be moving to when it’s ready, and the club.”
“What club?” Kells asked.
“The one Rafe will manage,” she said. “The one where your men will take turns working security.”
“Bouncers and gym rats?” Vane laughed until he coughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No,” she said. “Like Pete said, these jobs will give you money and help reestablish your identity in the civilian world. They’re the perfect cover. You can work during the day or at night at the club and still have time for your mission.”
“We’re not working with Montfort,” Kells said.
“Then you can leave,” she said.
“Give us one reason why we should trust Montfort,” Cain said.
“I’ll give you two,” she said with her hands on her hips. “Nate and Pete have spent the last week working and fighting by his side, and they trust him. Second, you’re going to need information. And the club is the best place to find it.”
“Sounds like you’ve figured all this out,” Kells said.
“I have.” She nodded toward the tall Hispanic man in a lightweight jacket, jeans, tie, and holster. Clearly a cop. “Detective Garza understands your situation and is willing to protect you while you figure out what to do next.”
“Why the hell would he do that?” Zack asked.
“Because, gentlemen,” Garza said in a hard-edged voice with a Jersey accent, “in the past twenty-four hours, I’ve met your enemy’s minions. And they’re as badass as they come.”
“There’s something else about the property,” Juliet said. “There are tunnels between this place, the mansion, and the club. They’re not all clear, especially the ones leading to the mansion, but I’m sure you and your men won’t mind helping with that.”
Kells finally looked at Rafe. His brown eyes glowed with resentment. Maybe even hatred. “What do you have to do with all of this?”
“I’m just the man who, with the help of a few friends, defeated my enemy and learned the name of yours.”
“You know who set us up in Afghanistan?” Luke said.
“I do.”
“And?” Kells asked.
“Do you agree to Juliet’s terms or not?”
Kells studied his soldiers. Although he’d been their CO for years, this had to be a joint decision. Once they made it, there was no turning back. “What do you say?”
One by one, his men—including Nate and Pete—nodded. So Kells looked at Juliet. “You have our answer. We agree. We’ll run the gym, live in the mansion, work at the club—”
“And clear the tunnels,” Calum added.
“Yes. Clear the tunnels.” Whatever that meant.
Montfort took Juliet’s hand and, on the exhale, said, “Remiel Marigny.”
“Bullshit,” Zack said. “He’s dead.”
“Even if he wasn’t,” Cain said, “he’s a low-level player. A hack gun runner.”
“I’ve never heard of him,” Luke said.
Vane rolled his eyes while Ty sat on a bench and gave them all the stink eye.
“Colonel?” Juliet prompted. “Do you believe us?”
Kells exhaled and wished he could sleep for the next forty years. “Unfortunately, I do.”
“You can’t be serious,” Zack said. “This is—”
“True.” Kells spoke directly to Juliet. “We accept your offer.”
She nodded. “We’ll leave you with Nate and Pete to get settled.”
“One more thing.” This time Kells looked directly at Montfort. “Is the Fianna in any way involved with our mission? Past or present?”
“No. But if you see a man bow”—Rafe looked at each man in the room—“run.”
Chapter 52
Rafe sat on the couch in his apartment to tie his black shoes, frustrated as hell.
When Calum appeared in a tuxedo carrying a florist box, Rafe ripped the lace out. “These don’t work.”
“They’re not combat boots. You do that before you put them on, not after.”
Rafe tugged the shoes off and tossed one to Calum while he searched for the other lace in the clothing bags littering the floor. It’d been a long few days helping, from the sidelines, Nate and his men get settled. Then there’d been Carina’s birthday party, where they’d celebrated with champagne near a stunning Pegasus fountain, and Miss Beatrice’s funeral, where they’d cried. Rafe even spent time with Philip, who’d asked if they could celebrate Thanksgiving with Pops.
Calum finished lacing the first shoe and threw it back at Rafe. “I went to great trouble to buy you new clothes, including the tuxedo you’re wearing, and you can’t hang them up?”
Rafe slipped on the shoe and tied the laces. “I told you I didn’t want them.”
“I told you you’d need them.” Calum laced the second shoe. “Hurry up. Ivers is double-parked, and we can’t leave your bride waiting.”
With one shoe on, one off, Rafe went into the bedroom to get both rings. On his dresser, he found them in the folded blue ribbon next to the photo of Juliet and his momma. He’d wanted to buy new bands, but Juliet still had hers and had insisted on using their original ones. “Did you bring the other ring?”
“Yes,” Calum said.
Rafe came out, and Calum held up the diamond-and-sapphire engagement ring in one hand, the florist box in the other.
Rafe put on his second shoe, slipped on his jacket, and pinned the gardenia-and-lavender boutonniere to it. Calum would hold the rings until they were needed. “Let’s meet my bride.”
* * *
Juliet tightened the belt of her silk robe and paced the rectory/sheriff’s office. Her high-heeled sandals clicked on the pine floor. When Samantha came in with two bouquets of white roses, gardenias, and lavender, Juliet asked, “What’s the time?”
“Don’t worry.” Samantha laid the bouquets on Jimmy’s desk and adjusted her strapless seersucker dress. Her hair, like Juliet’s, had been braided and twisted into a bun. It was too humid to wear their hair down. “We have thirty minutes.”
“I don’t have a dress.”
“Miss Nell promised it would be delivered on time.”
After the ceremony, Miss Nell was leaving for Charleston. “What if she’s forgotten—”
Samantha held up her hand. “Let’s go through the checklist. Something blue?”
Juliet showed off her mother-in-law’s sapphire-and-diamond bracelet. “My silver hair combs are old. And my dress will be new.”
“This will do for borrowed.” Samantha took a small box out of her handbag.
Juliet opened it and found a silver heart locket engraved with delicate scrollwork. “It’s beautiful.”
“It was my grandmother’s. You have your hair combs. I have my locket.”
“Are you sure?”
Samantha took the necklace and stood behind Juliet to clasp it around her neck. “I’d be honored if you’d wear it.”
Juliet held the heart and looked back at her friend. “Thank you. After everything that’s happened, I’m surprised you’re even talking to me.”
Samantha kissed her cheek. “I’m okay. I have you and Pete. I might even count Rafe, Calum, Garza, and Philip as friends. For the first time, I have a family, and I’m grateful. I want today to be everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
Juliet’s eyes blurred, and she hugged Samantha.
“But,” Samantha said, pulling away and wiping her eyes, “if any of them disappoint us, they’re going down. Now that Pete is training us in Krav Maga, no one’s safe.”
Juliet laughed and found her compact to fix her makeup. “Agreed.”
A knock sounded, a
nd Samantha opened the door to allow Miss Nell in. Today she wore a light-pink silk Chanel suit with a strand of diamonds. She held a long box with a veil on top. “I hope Juliet’s not fretting.”
“A little.” Samantha took the box and laid it on a table against the wall.
Miss Nell placed the veil next to the bouquets on the desk. “Juliet, remember the dress you found in your daddy’s trunk?”
“The one belonging to my mother?”
“Miss Beatrice and I sent it to the most wonderful couturier in Charleston who specializes in updating vintage gowns.” Miss Nell opened the box and with Samantha’s help unwrapped the tissue around the dress. “You’ll have to meet her when you come visit me. She couldn’t save much of your mother’s original gown, but she was able to use the lace.”
Samantha and Miss Nell helped Juliet into the white silk gazar strapless slip with a chapel train. The white silk gossamer dress floated over her head with her mother’s Chantilly lace forming the scoop bodice and delicate cap sleeves. The lace-trimmed skirt and train were fuller and longer than the dress, giving the gown an ethereal look. When Samantha used Juliet’s silver combs to attach the veil trimmed with the same lace, Juliet felt like a bride.
Miss Nell kissed Juliet on the cheek while Samantha handed her a bouquet. “Ready?”
“Always and forever.”
* * *
Rafe inhaled the smell of orange oil and flowers. The white church with eight rows of pews had been polished and decorated with gardenias, roses, and lavender. The sun streaming through the stained-glass windows cast the room in an otherworldly light.
He stood in front of the church with Calum and Father Quinn. He was surprised to see some of the Isle’s residents there, including Grady, Miss Mamie, CJ, and Tommy Boudreaux. Nate, Pete, Garza, and even Bob, all in tuxedoes courtesy of Calum, sat in the front left row. Jimmy Boudreaux and Philip sat on the right side with Miss Nell and Carina.
Rafe was shocked Carina had come. But he wasn’t about to question the woman who’d agreed to keep the truth of his pardon a secret.
He whispered to Calum, “You knew this would work out, didn’t you? That’s why you ordered me a tux.”
“Yes.” Calum clasped his shoulder. “Here they come.”
Samantha led the way. Once she stopped at the steps to the altar, everyone stood. Juliet didn’t need an entrance hymn. When she walked through the church doors on Pops’s arm, her smile made the angels sing. Rafe’s heart got tangled up in his chest. He could barely breathe, and there was no way he could speak. He’d have to nod his way through his vows.
Once she took his hand, though, he found his courage and his voice.
The woman he’d adored his entire life stood in front of him. She’d forgiven him. Believed in him. Loved him. When he slipped on her wedding band, followed by the new engagement ring, she met his gaze. Her eyes had filled, and he almost missed her soft “I do.”
The back of his throat burned, and he had to be prompted—twice—to kiss his bride. When he lifted his head, the room thundered with claps and cheers. Juliet wiped her cheeks with trembling fingers and took his arm to face their guests. They were surrounded by the people they loved. They were no longer alone. They had friends, family, a new beginning.
Epilogue
After photos and well wishes, Juliet pulled Rafe onto the dance floor at Boudreaux’s. The band was playing her favorite Creole waltz, and she needed his arms around her.
“You were right,” he said against her hair. “About waiting. It’s going to be…intense.”
Her smile hid the fact that her lower stomach was clenched in knots. They were spending the next week in Charleston at the Mills House, the same hotel where they’d had their first honeymoon.
He kissed her nose and then twirled her before bringing her back in for the slow waltz. “When can we leave?”
“Soon.” She laughed while her veil and dress surrounded them like spun sugar. Her bare feet barely touched the ground. “Look at how many people are here.”
Almost every family from the Isle had shown up at Boudreaux’s with food and coolers filled with sweet tea and beer. All of them had offered congratulations and, in their own way, forgiveness and acceptance. They were no longer outsiders within their own home.
“Except for the Marignys,” he said. “They didn’t have the guts to show.”
“They wouldn’t have come anyway. Anytime everyone’s here at Boudreaux’s, they’re poaching on my land.”
He chuckled, and his chest rumbled beneath her cheek.
“I’m serious,” she said. “The Tobans, Mercers, Prioleaus—they all came. And when they heard we were rebuilding the manor, they offered to help. I didn’t have the heart to tell them we don’t have the money right now.”
“Actually, we have the money.”
She pulled back to meet his gaze. “What do you mean?”
“I worked for the Prince for five years before prison. While I wasn’t allowed to give money away, I was allowed to will it. I saved, invested, and named you my beneficiary. After my arrest, I assumed the Prince confiscated my accounts. Apparently not.”
“Accounts? As in more than one?”
“As in many, with lots of zeroes.”
She stopped dancing and took both of his hands in hers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There hasn’t been time, and I wanted to sign the paperwork. Calum reviewed it, and everything that once was mine is now ours.” Rafe took her face in both hands and kissed her softly. When he was done and her head was spinning, he whispered, “My home is with you. Wherever you are, that’s where I’ll be. Besides, you made an agreement with the Prince, and you’re stuck on the Isle.”
She punched him in the arm, except it probably hurt her more than him. “My daddy always told me to stay away from men who bow.”
He laughed. “Too late for regrets.”
“We haven’t made love yet.”
“Soon, that’s all we’ll be doing.” This time he kissed her properly, and she was vaguely aware of clapping.
His lips left hers to trace her cheek. “I’ve loved you for five thousand one hundred and nineteen days.” His words broke apart as if there wasn’t room in his voice for all the laughter and happiness. “There aren’t enough stars in the sky to match the I love yous in my heart.”
His words healed those wounded places hidden inside and offered her a life she thought she’d never have. Because of him, the future—their family—was theirs to build.
“I love you, Rafe Montfort.” She threw her arms around his neck and whispered, “I just don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”
“Love me.” He swung her up in his arms, his eyes narrowing as his lips met hers. “As I love you.”
“Forever and always, my love.” Her veil caught the breeze and swirled around them, leaving them in their own private world. “Forever and always.”
Acknowledgments
The problem with a debut book, especially a long one like this, is that there are so many people to thank. Then there’s the added issue of order and rank. Is the last one more important than the first? Or vice versa? So in the interest of fairness, the following list is random. Kind of.
First, I want to thank my extraordinary agents, Deidre Knight and Kristy Hunter. Your confidence and support made this all possible. I have no idea where I’d be without you both, but definitely not here, with a book in my hand and my name on the cover. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
Unfortunately, there aren’t enough thank you-type words in the English language to describe how grateful I am to my editor at Sourcebooks, Deb Werksman. I handed her a massive manuscript with multiple plotlines and she guided me with patience and the most amazing feedback until we ended up with a book we both loved. This story exists because of your brilliance!
The rest of the Sourceboo
ks staff rocks as well. Thank you Susie Benton, Laura Costello, Rachel Gilmer, Stefani Sloma, Stephany Daniel, Beth Sochacki, and Emily Chiarelli for all of your help with my newbie questions. I’d like to say that I won’t have any more, but I don’t think that’s true. So I’m also thanking you in advance and apologizing in case I’ve forgotten someone.
And OMG! The Sourcebooks art department! Thank you so much for the awesome cover. I still can’t stop looking at it!
I’d like to thank my sister-in-law Kieran Kramer, who stepped off the writing cliff first and told me it was safe to jump. Then there are my critique partners, Karen Johnston, Christine Glover, Juliette Sobanet, and Mary Lenaburg, who read this manuscript in so many versions and so many times that I will be forever in their debt. I am truly grateful!
I’m so lucky to have my amazing RWA Golden Heart sisters and brother, as well as the Washington, DC, Romance Writers, who’ve held my hand for all these years and never let go. I love you guys!
A huge thanks to my brother-in-law and Charleston, SC, lawyer Bill Hanahan (William Ogier Hanahan III, Esquire) whose family stories inspired the historical aspects of this series and whose knowledge of obscure Southern seventeenth-century real estate law and the history of King’s Grants saved this book.
A girl is nothing without her friends, and I’m lucky to have Jean Anspaugh, Shannon McGrail, and Jackie Iodice by my side, and Zoe Gwennap in my heart.
Sandals South Coast Resort in Jamaica. I started this book on the French beach, where the bar staff kept me hydrated, the lifeguards kept me safe, and the concierge reminded me to wear sunscreen. Thank you for providing such a wonderful place to relax and dream.
No acknowledgment is complete without mentioning family. So I’m raising my glass in an Irish toast to:
My mother and Rooster, my sister and her husband, my mother-in-law and father-in-law, along with my husband’s enormous family, who stood by me during the Great Rejection Years with love and support. You all are more awesome than words can convey.