Colt, Billionaire Reunion: Sweet, Clean Christian Romance with Suspense (Billionaire Protectors Book 2)

by Alexa Verde

  This was reckless, stupid, ridiculous.

  Then she remembered Karli. She’d failed her friend back then, but she could try to rescue somebody her best friend had loved dearly.

  “I’m sorry, Colt. I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she slowed outside the mansion and set her phone to silent.

  Glad Mr. McCoy didn’t build a high fence around his house like Ross had, she parked the car at the curb, turned off the engine, and covered the short distance across the lawn to the front door—fast. Even before she tried the doorknob, she knew she wouldn’t have to use her lock picks. It opened easily. At least, she wouldn’t have to waste time.

  Please, God, let me be in time!

  Moving as silently as she could, she entered and crept down the hall.

  Ross’s slurred shouts came from the living room. “Stop it! I’m not going to listen to your accusations!”

  She tensed. No doubt, he’d helped himself to a whole lot of whiskey.

  “You know I’m telling the truth.” Mr. McCoy’s voice trembled.

  “You’ve–got–no–proof.” Ross’s frantic words ran into each other.

  If she waited any longer, bullets might start flying.

  Was she making a mistake again? Her entire life seemed to be a string of mistakes. But not the twins. And not Colt. Hopefully, he’d find the way to help her.

  She felt the text coming through. She pulled out her phone and glanced at the screen. Her heart warmed. Colt.

  I’m on my way. Please, please stay where you’re safe. I can’t live without you.

  “Me, either.” She couldn’t risk precious seconds typing those words into the phone.

  She slipped it into her purse, then switched on the recording device she always carried.

  “You murdered my daughter.” A note of exhaustion trebled Mr. McCoy’s voice.

  “No!” Ross screamed. “You’ll never accuse me again!”

  Staying hidden, she carefully peered into the room. Goosebumps erupted over her skin.

  Ross held Archie McCoy at gunpoint. More worrying—at wobbly, drunken gunpoint. It wouldn’t take much for him to pull the trigger.

  Now or never. Help me, Lord, please? I don’t have much of a plan, so I hope You do.

  Drawing her weapon, she stepped forward.

  “Ross, please put down the gun.”

  Pulse throbbing in his ears, Colt increased speed as he wove between cars on the motorcycle. How could Mirabella be so reckless? Wind whooshed in his ears. His shirt flipped in the wind while his fingers tightened around the handles.

  It was dangerous driving like this, yes, but he couldn’t lose the woman he loved.

  The woman he loved?

  He had no doubt about it now. He’d never stopped loving Mirabella, no matter how hard he’d tried.

  If only he’d answered that call, but busy in the lab, he hadn’t even heard it. But she’d said it. She loved him, too. And she did call him. Unlike the previous time, she trusted him with the truth.

  They were different now. They knew each other well enough now to fall in love with the real person, not the fantasy they’d once created for each other, to accept each other as they were—faults, mistakes, and all. They knew now what a treasure their love was.

  In other times, his heart would sing at finally hearing the words he’d ached to hear for much longer than he’d realized. But now…

  He simply wanted to get her back alive.

  All he could do was pray. God willing, once they got through this, they’d work out the rest of their issues and finally be together. Be a family with Corbin and Kitty.

  His heartbeat became a staccato and sounded nearly as loud as the thrumming motor. He passed another car and slid into a small space between two vans.

  Mirabella. He could get it about her wanting to save somebody’s life, admired her for that. But couldn’t she wait for the police to do the job? Or call Brett and have him send his people instead? Why risk herself again?

  Because the killer wouldn’t trust Brett’s employees. And police sirens would only precipitate another murder, if he understood Mirabella’s explanation in her voicemail right. But the killer might still listen to Mirabella. He hoped.

  Colt pushed away the image of her taking a bullet, blood spreading on her white blouse. Think about that too long and he wouldn’t be able to function, even to take his next breath.

  He’d called Brett’s friends at the police department, telling them no sirens. But as he dashed between cars again, he knew he’d get there first. The mansion loomed ahead.

  He debated parking far enough for the killer not to hear the motor or parking close enough to make sure he got there in time. He chose something in the middle and rushed toward the front door.

  Worry tightened his gut as he drew his gun from its holster and edged the door open. Voices echoed along the hall from the living room. One was Mirabella’s. Thank You, Lord! The fear constricting his breathing loosened a fraction.

  At least, she was still alive. But for how long? He swept the alarming thought away. Moving stealthily, he walked inside. He crouched toward the living room. What he saw made his heart stop beating for a moment and his blood crystallize in his veins.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Colt prayed like he’d never prayed before.

  Archie huddled in an armchair while Ross stood and waved a gun around, seeming unsure if his target was Mirabella or the older man.

  “Ross, please put the gun down. If you don’t, someone will get shot. And I don’t want to shoot anyone, even a murderer.” Somehow, Mirabella’s voice remained perfectly calm.

  Archie’s hand crept under his jacket. Having to make a split-second decision and act, Colt tensed, then launched himself. His taekwondo flying kick sent the gun Archie held spinning across the room before he could loose a shot. He grabbed Archie’s arms, ensuring the older man couldn’t reach any other concealed weapons.

  Extracting handcuffs from her purse, Mirabella rushed to his side and cuffed Archie. Her smile felt like sunshine after rain, like winning the Nobel Prize, like every blessing in the world all rolled into one. “Thanks, Colt. We make a good team.”

  She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.

  The words sounded again and again in Colt’s mind. But he’d only fully believe it when he could take her into his arms.

  “What are you doing?” Archie screamed, rattling the cuffs. “Ross is the killer!”

  “I didn’t kill nobody!” Ross whined. “He called and asked me to come over to talk about Karli. When I did, he started yelling that I killed her. Then he pulled a gun on me. I thought with this new murder he must’ve lost his mind from grief, so I took the gun away from him.”

  “Just what he wanted, so he could shoot you dead as an armed intruder who confessed to murder and then threatened him. Ross, please put the gun down. I promise not to shoot you if you do.” Mirabella gestured to the coffee table with the gun she held.

  Bewilderment clouding his eyes, Ross placed the gun where she indicated, well out of Archie’s reach. Just to be on the safe side, Colt grabbed it and moved it to a bookcase where it was well out of Ross’s reach, too.

  “But why?” the drunk man slurred.

  “Because he’s the killer.” Mirabella delivered the words in a matter-of-fact tone, but Ross staggered a few steps back.

  “Huh?” Ross shook his head.

  “It was a setup.” Mirabella spoke slowly as if explaining something to a very young child.

  Finally, comprehension dawned. Ross lunged at Archie. “How could you do that to my Karli? I loved her!”

  Colt leapt forward and grabbed Ross by the collar, bringing him up short, before shoving him into an armchair.

  “Sure.” Archie snorted. “You had a good way to show your love by cheating on her.”

  “Only that once. And it was a drunken mistake.”

  As if suddenly becoming weak, Mirabella slumped against the wall. Colt strode to her side and slipped a com
forting arm around her. She leaned into the support he offered. “Mr. McCoy, how could you kill your own daughter?”

  “Stepdaughter, Mirabella. Stepdaughter. Now, I suggest you uncuff me.” Archie raised his hands. “You have no evidence. I’ll deny everything, and nobody will believe you.”

  “We know about the charity,” Colt said with a calmness he didn’t feel. Good thing Mirabella explained some of this in her voicemail. “We have evidence you funneled money into your own secret accounts and covered it up with creative accounting.”

  “I only borrowed it.” Archie snarled, fury disfiguring his narrow features, any pretense at civility abandoned. “And I didn’t do it just for myself. What else paid for this house and Karli’s college fees? Even paid for the insurance you ended up drinking your way through, Ross. How was I to know she’d changed the beneficiary? Stupid girl.”

  Seeing the truth Archie hid behind his philanthropist front, horror filled Colt. It reminded him of a Bible verse. Something about the heart being hopelessly deceitful.

  “So she found out, and you killed her?” Mirabella asked.

  The older man lifted his chin. “I tried to make her see sense, but she insisted she had to tell the authorities. She left me no choice.”

  Tears glittered in Mirabella’s eyes. “No choice but to kill her? I don’t believe that.”

  “Karli brought it upon herself. The serial killer operating in the Austin area was too good an opportunity not to use. Sherrie had to go and ask you to investigate.” His eyes narrowed. “As stupid as her daughter. Your suspicions that Karli wasn’t killed by the Daisy Killer worried me. Then you disappeared.”

  A vehicle stopped outside the house, and Colt detected the faint squeak of car doors opening. The police, he hoped.

  The older man’s lips compressed to a thin line. “If you had to return, why couldn’t you leave things alone? But no, you had to poke your nose into the case again. You wouldn’t let it go.”

  “I wanted to bring justice to your daughter. My best friend.” Mirabella’s voice was quiet.

  Colt’s heart twisted for her.

  “Stepdaughter! It makes a big difference. Not my own flesh and blood.”

  “No!” The word shot from Colt. “I couldn’t love my stepchildren any more if they were my own.”

  Archie scowled. “And I didn’t. This is all your fault, the pair of you. You were supposed to stay in your lab.”

  “You bribed my employee?” First Fred, and now this? He’d need to seriously overhaul his vetting procedures. His inclination to trust his staff clearly had drawbacks.

  “Everyone has a price.” Archie shrugged, as if bribery was a normal part of doing business, and then stabbed a bony finger toward Mirabella. “And you, refusing to drop the case. The warnings with daisies didn’t work. The people I paid to follow you and shoot you didn’t work. I planned to dispose of you that day you came to my house, but you didn’t come alone.”

  Colt closed his eyes for a moment. He’d come so close to losing his Mirabella.

  Thank You, Lord, that I was with her that day.

  “And Nicole Mathers?” she asked, clutching at his hand.

  “Yes, I even had to kill that girl. It wasn’t easy. You can’t imagine what it’s like to kill someone in cold blood.” Archie’s voice quavered and his face convulsed as a shudder shook him. “But you still wouldn’t believe the Daisy Killer was back. Why wouldn’t you just let it go?”

  Mirabella’s hand quivered, and she loosed a soft sigh. “One thing I never told you, simply because I didn’t want to upset you. I was seriously injured in Australia. Severely burned, when the Daisy Killer almost made me one of his victims. I was in the vehicle with him when he died.” She stepped forward as the police officers stormed in. “Mr. McCoy has admitted to embezzling money from his charity, as well as to killing two women. His daughter, Karli, and Nicole Mathers.”

  “She’s lying. Karli wasn’t my daughter, only my stepdaughter. Anyway, you can’t arrest me. I’m a respected member of society. Look at all my awards for charity work.” Archie puffed out his chest. So, he still somehow imagined he could talk his way out of this?

  Mirabella pulled a recording device from her purse. She offered it to a police officer who, judging by his nod, knew her. “Here’s the recording of Mr. McCoy’s confession. He’s also confessed to several other crimes.”

  As the officer read the older man his Miranda rights, Archie’s shoulders sagged. The recording, most likely, wouldn’t be admissible at court, but he might not realize it. Colt had a feeling he’d confess for real soon enough.

  Archie glared at Mirabella. “You should have stayed away.” He almost spat the words before the police officer escorted him out.

  Colt drew Mirabella to him, finally believing she was safe, she was here, and she wasn’t going anywhere.

  She leaned into him, smiling up at him. “I think you’re forgetting something.”

  A wave of tenderness swept him up. “I can’t wait to kiss you, but I think it’s better to do it without witnesses.” They’d have to give their statements to the police, and he wasn’t looking forward to the process.

  But a lifetime with Mirabella? That was something he could look forward to.

  She chuckled against his chest. “That, too, but I meant something else.”

  It dawned on him. “Oh yes. I love you, too. Never doubt it.”

  Two weeks later, Mirabella sat in the dining room on Brett’s yacht, gazing around her at the faces of her family. The scent of fried meat and baked potatoes spread in the air. Of course, barbecue sauce already adorned Corbin’s chin.

  Kitty’s brow creased in thought. Then she laid her fork down at her salad plate and ran around the table.

  Throwing her little arms around Mirabella, Kitty leaned into her. “Love you, Mom.”

  “Love you, too, darling.” Mirabella finally found her voice as the backs of her eyes burned with tears—the good kind.

  She hugged her daughter back. This was the first time since her return Kitty had hugged her. Emotions overwhelming her, Mirabella glanced at Colt over the top of Kitty’s head, and her heart warmed as he mouthed, “You’re a great mom.”

  Then Kitty ran back and returned to her salad, grinning. Corbin, not to be left out, high-fived her, leaving a barbecue-sauce imprint on her palm.

  Kitty just giggled and wiped it off.

  Joy and love fountained in Mirabella as she looked from their children to Colt. She still didn’t know much about parenting, but she’d learned that one of the most important things was to love them as she did.

  She took a bite of her fluffy baked potato, but she barely tasted it.

  Colt’s gaze shifted from the children to her. “You know what makes me rich? Not the money. It’s my faith and my family that make me rich. You and the children. Every moment like this. This is what I treasure.” Tenderness coated his voice.

  “Yes. Same here.” She smiled at him.

  What else could she wish for?

  Well, maybe to be a family in a legal sense, to all live together again. To be Colt’s wife, in every sense of the word. But she’d professed her independence so often that maybe he thought she didn’t want to give up her single life to get married again.

  She caught him staring at her, and her pulse increased. Their physical attraction had grown stronger and stronger, and it was strong enough to start with. His eyes widened as his fingers wrapped around hers, and she sensed the reflection of her reaction to him.

  After eating, they all walked—with the exception of Corbin, who ran—outside onto the deck. The sunset dappled the Caribbean Sea in gorgeous hues of peach and lilac and gold. Colt was right. Every moment together was precious, and she gave thanks to the Lord for blessing her with it.

  Then she turned to her two treasures. “It’s time for you to go to bed.”

  “Mom, a few more minutes. Oh, and we forgot something in our room. Is it okay if we go to pick it up? We’ll be right back.” Corbin
and Kitty looked at each other and giggled.

  Uh-oh.

  Were the twins up to something? But just the sound of the word Mom melted her heart. She sent an alarmed glance at Colt, and a twinkle lit his eyes as if he were in on a secret.

  What was going on?

  “I think we can allow the children to stay up for a few minutes more.” Colt grinned. “If you’re okay with that.”

  How could she say no? Outnumbered three to one, she nodded. “Okay. But not for long.”

  “I’ll go with them.” He placed his hands on the twins’ shoulders, and they hurried below deck.

  Left alone, she enjoyed the sunset glory and lifted her face to the breeze coming from the water, but it wasn’t the same as watching the sunset with her family.

  Her family…

  As the wind flipped her hair around her face, Mirabella looked down on her hand laying on the railing. A ring on the finger didn’t mean marital bliss. She’d seen that in her parents’ marriage.

  And still, she ached so badly to be Colt’s wife. Not the wife of the handsome man in a tuxedo with dozens of red roses in his arms who’d serenaded her. Not the wife of the billionaire. But the wife of the caring father, a man who hid his emotions so deep inside sometimes it appeared he didn’t have any.

  The man with faults, yes, but the man God wanted her to marry.

  She might have to wait for that, but Colt was worth waiting for. She’d do so many things differently now. And God willing, she wouldn’t have to wait too long. If they didn’t get married again soon, resisting temptation wasn’t going to be easy.

  The shore seemed closer. Were they going to debark?

  Then the lights appeared on the shore as if people carried candle lanterns. Weird. They were moving, moving as if they tried to form a certain pattern.

  When they did, she blinked and blinked again. Was her vision playing tricks on her?

  Because this couldn’t be for real, could it? Her heartbeat danced a rumba.