by Angel Vane
“Good. Let’s get off this damn plane,” Mena said.
Leading the way, Julian stepped over the dead bodies piled up on the cabin floor and activated the emergency window exit. Pushing it open, the side of the plane was tilted, partially submerged in the beach, with about a three foot drop to the ground.
Jumping down, he turned and lifted Mena off the plane. The sounds of sirens filled the air. Coast guard and police boats raced across the waves, making their way to the wreckage.
“Julian … look behind you,” Mena said, a frown piercing her beautiful face.
Julian turned around and winced.
A mansion, burned and in ruins loomed in front of him. The same mansion he and Mena had escaped from a year ago. He’d landed the plane on Dumay’s private island. The place where all the mayhem had begun.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
“Was that Sunny? What did she say?” Mena asked.
Julian closed the hotel door behind him, then tossed his phone on the bedside table, before sliding across the bed and placing a decadent kiss on her mouth.
She savored the sweetness of his lips, the sexy scent he exuded. A feeling she thought she might not ever have again, yet here he was in bed next to her, put up in the Queen Palm Hotel in St. Killian, courtesy of Caleb’s boss at the Palmchat Gazette, Leo Bronson.
“Yeah, it was her. Enzo is back home and expected to make a full recovery,” Julian said, then stretched out on the bed next to Mena. “Tubeec Hirad survived being stabbed by Hakeem. He claims to have a copy of the evidence Okeyo Lagat had against Deputy President Rono and is trying to use it as a bargaining chip for his release.”
“Do they believe him? He has to be lying,” Mena said, flinching as she readjusted the sling on her arm.
“Maybe. Maybe not. ASF is taking his claims seriously and considering brokering a deal to see what he has,” Julian said.
“I can’t believe they would consider negotiating with a terrorist,” Mena said, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Why don’t we let Reggie figure out that mess.” Julian pulled her into his arms. “Is that okay? I’m not hurting your arm, am I?”
“It’s fine. I’m too doped up to feel any pain,” Mena lied, looking down at her heavily bandaged swollen right arm. The bullet had entered near the middle of her bicep and came out above her elbow without hitting bone or a major artery. It was the best prognosis considering the situation. The doctors at St. Killian General had cleaned the wound, stitched her up, bandaged and splinted her arm, and then sent her home with sobering warnings about the difficult recovery period and potential loss of normal use even with months of physical therapy she had ahead of her.
“Good, well not good that you’re a dope head right now, but I’m glad you’re not in pain,” Julian teased.
Mena slapped the back of his head.
“Ouch!” Julian said, then leaned over and kissed her again.
“Maybe ASF can get the evidence against Rono without having to set Tubeec free. Then, Rono can finally be held accountable for the countless attacks he orchestrated on innocent Kenyans who supported his political rivals,” Mena said.
“Arresting Rono would be a slam dunk. Conviction could be a lot tougher, given Rono’s well-connected friends, but his political career would be D.O.A. That’s if Tubeec actually has the evidence against him,” Julian said, twirling a strand of her dark hair around his finger. “But I’m sure Okeyo Lagat will do everything in his power to put Rono in jail, with or without Tubeec Hirad. It may take some time, but he should be able to gather the evidence he had before. Speaking of Okeyo, did you get a chance to talk to Wangari while I was out?”
Mena stroked his arm, lost in the memories of her conversation with the Director of the museum. “She was disappointed and offered a lot of concessions to entice me to finish out the fellowship. Private residence with a driver and a private TIDES bodyguard.”
“You already have a private TIDES bodyguard,” Julian said.
“I think she feels a lot of guilt about what happened and wants to make amends, but she doesn’t know the real truth behind it all. Dumay set all of this in motion and that had nothing to do with Wangari or Okeyo. None of this was her fault,” Mena said.
“Having second thoughts?” Julian asked.
“No. Even knowing that Priscilla wants us back in St. Basil for some reason, I can’t see myself going back to Nairobi to finish out the fellowship,” Mena admitted. After everything Priscilla had put her through, hiring an African terrorist to abduct her and bring her back to the Palmchat Islands, Mena was more convicted than ever to ensure Priscilla was found guilty of all of her crimes.
“If we’re not going back to Nairobi, then where to next? Do you want to stay here and be close to your dad?” Julian asked, a curious look in his eyes.
Mena cringed. Not that she didn’t love her father but being on the same island with him was going to be tough. She had a few more hours before her parents landed in the Bronson private jet. While she couldn’t wait to see them again, she was also dreading the smothering and overprotectiveness she knew was coming.
“I think going back to St. Basil is what I want,” Mena said. “Regina and Omar are both there. They say ‘hi’ by the way and thanks for saving my life … again.”
Julian laughed, then kissed her on the forehead. “Did they really think I wouldn’t?”
Mena paused, emotions choking her throat as she worked to push past them.
“Julian, I don’t know how to thank you for everything you did in Africa. You risked your life over and over again to find me. To save me from getting killed.”
Julian was quiet. His soulful brown eyes expressed an infinite wave of love, filling her to the brim and threatening to take her under. She hoped he felt how much she loved him in return.
Mena continued, “You were my relentless hero, not letting anything stop you from rescuing me. I will never forget what you did and I will never take you for granted again. I promise you that I will do anything and everything to protect our love. I’m all in … with you.”
Chapter Sixty
The door to the elevator dinged, opening into the opulent lobby of the Queen Palm Hotel.
Mena glanced left and right, then stepped outside into the fray of tourists milling about the grand establishment. She’d been lucky that Julian had already left the hotel to run errands when she got the text message. Glancing down at her phone, she checked the location of the private cabana again. Number 15 near the waterfall pool and closest to the beach.
She didn’t have much time to get rid of him.
Julian would be back in a few hours and then they had dinner with her parents tonight at Caleb’s house. She was determined to not let this meeting ruin her day. Everything had changed for her after facing down death over and over again in the desert of northeastern Kenya. Mena knew without a doubt that she wanted nothing more than to be with Julian forever. A commitment she cherished. She never thought she’d get married again, but now that was all she wanted.
Julian had been giddy and secretive about his outing today. She had a feeling they were on the same page and by dinner tonight, they would be engaged. The last thing she needed was her past coming back to ruin this day for her.
Taking the winding path past the Olympic sized pool, through the jungle enclave and out toward the outer pool decks, Mena scanned the numbers on the cabanas until she saw 15. It was discreet, the opening partially hidden from the view of anyone walking by and the furthest from the hotel. At least he gave her that courtesy.
As she stepped toward the cabana, the fabric curtain opened and she went inside. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at the man she’d married four years ago. Dr. Michael Marsh. He hadn’t changed one bit, still the same handsome doctor she’d made the mistake of falling in love with.
“What took you so long?” Michael asked, walking toward her, his hazel eyes concerned as he stopped mere feet from her. The kind eyes that she’d fallen for so
many years ago. “I’ve been worried sick since the bombing at the museum. When you didn’t show up to meet me, I knew something was wrong. I kept trying to find you, but the Kenyan police didn’t know anything. Then I heard you were on that private plane that crashed landed on one of the outer Palmchat Islands. I got here as fast as I could.”
“You shouldn’t have followed me to Kenya, and you shouldn’t have come here either,” Mena said, remembering the coral peonies that had arrived at the Irungu Center before Tubeec’s attack. The exact flowers from her bridal bouquet had arrived on what would have been their fifth anniversary, January 13th.
“Don’t say that,” Michael said, reaching for her. Mena slipped away from his touch, walking deeper into the cabana.
“What happened to your arm?” Michael asked, closing the space between them. “Let me take a look at it.”
“Don’t touch me. You’re a damn neurologist. That doesn’t qualify you to assess a gunshot wound,” Mena said, exasperated by the proximity of him.
“Gunshot wound? Who shot you? What the hell happened on that plane?” Michael asked. The genuine concern in his tone rattled Mena, shaking her resolve.
“I’m fine. I’ve been checked out by the best doctors in St. Killian. I don’t need a second opinion,” Mena said. “I don’t have all day to waste with you. Why have you been trying to get in touch with me? What do you want?”
“You.” Michael’s eyes twinkled as the words oozed from his mouth.
Her mouth fell open. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me. I want you. I want us back. Somewhere deep inside of you, I know you still love me. You didn’t want our marriage to end just like I didn’t. We were both blindsided. But now, everything has changed. We belong together and if you could accept the truth of what really happened, we could get back everything we had before. I’ve never stopped loving you,” Michael said.
“You love me so much that you didn’t tell me you had not one, not two, but three other wives across three states. Do you know how disgusting it feels to know that you tricked me and lied to me! You were a polygamist, juggling four wives at one time—”
“I was not married to all of those women!” Michael screamed back at her. “The day I met you, I walked away from all of them. I swear to you. When I stood before that minister on the beach in Miami and vowed to love you, I believed I was free of all the mistakes of my past.”
“But you weren’t! What about Emma and Alexis? When you married me, they both thought you were their husband,” Mena said.
“No, they didn’t. I hadn’t been around them much in years,” Michael said.
“Are you serious right now?”
“Yes. Both Emma and Alexis signed affidavits that they were aware of my marriage with Courtney and knew that our unions were not valid,” said Michael.
“What are you talking about? When did they do that?”
“During the bigamy trial, it all came out. That’s not all. I have proof that divorce papers were drawn up for me and Courtney a month after you and I met. She was supposed to sign the papers and file them with the court, but she didn’t. I thought I was divorced before we fell in love and before I proposed to you,” Michael said, reaching for Mena’s hand.
Mena jerked away from him. “That’s not what she told me after she showed up at my doorstep with a gun and a rag doused with chloroform. If she believed her marriage was over, why the hell did she kidnap me and try to kill me for sleeping with her husband?”
“You know better than anyone how unstable Courtney is. She didn’t want to accept the fact that we were over. That I’d met you and found true love. She didn’t want us to be happy. Don’t forget that I was your first hero. I risked my life to save you from that crazy bitch because I love you. Don’t you remember how good we were together? How much we meant to each other and the life we were building? We can have that again. It’s not too late.”
Mena jabbed her fingers into Michael’s chest, pushing him backward. “I don’t want to be with you! I am in love with someone else. Julian Montgomery. Do you hear me? He’s the man I’m going to marry.”
“You can’t marry him,” Michael said, pain in his eyes as he reached for her.
“The hell I can’t. I feel nothing for you, Michael. Anything I felt for you died the day Courtney showed up on the doorstep of our home,” Mena said.
“Then I guess you’ll be the bigamist, not me,” Michael said, walking away from her toward the opening of the cabana curtains.
“What does that mean?” Mena asked, stomping after him.
“You can’t marry Julian because you’re already married. Once I won the case of the criminal charges for bigamy, that means our marriage was valid. You never filed for an annulment or a divorce—”
“That’s because our marriage was void based on the statutes of the state of Florida. I didn’t have to file anything for a marriage that was never valid in the first place,” Mena said, stalking over toward him.
“Except our marriage wasn’t void. The court ruled that I wasn’t a bigamist and that means …”
“No, that can’t be true,” Mena shook her head, her body trembling with anger.
“It is true. Mena, based on the laws of the state of Florida, you are still my wife.”
Epilogue
Easing the motorcycle into the curved entrance to the Queen Palm hotel, Julian guided to a stop and stared over at Mena waiting under the expansive portico. The wind whipped through her hair as she absently spun the bracelet around her wrist, smiling back at him.
Mena rushed over to him. His mouth found hers and he parted her lips with his tongue, desperate to taste her after being apart from her for the past eight hours.
Breaking the kiss, Julian said, “Hey beautiful.”
“Hey,” Mena said, breathless. “So, this was your top-secret errand?”
“I knew it would take all day to get the ferry over to St. Basil, grab the bike from Kendrick’s house and return to St. Killian,” Julian said. “You like the surprise?”
“I love it,” Mena said as Julian pushed his body back along the bike seat.
The small jewelry box secured into the pocket of his cargo pants pressed firmly against his thigh. This wasn’t the only surprise he had in store for Mena. He hoped she meant it when she told him she was “all-in.” He loved her more than he thought was fathomable and it was time for them to make the ultimate commitment to one another.
“Ladies first,” Julian said, allowing her to get in front of him. Mena straddled the bike. He loved the strength and confidence she exuded when she was in command of the Harley Road King. But with one arm in a sling, she wouldn’t be able to steer the bike. Slipping his arms underneath hers, Julian gripped the bars and revved the engine.
“It’s too early to leave for my Dad’s house. What are you up to?” Mena said.
“On the ferry, I heard about this magical place on the island. It’s on the way to Caleb’s and I thought we could stop there first,” Julian said.
“Magic? Seriously?” Mena asked.
“Stop being a skeptic and roll with it,” Julian said, kissing her cheek. Adjusting the kickstand on the motorcycle, he peeled out of the driveway and onto the open road.
Twenty minutes later, he brought the bike to a stop along a deserted stretch of tropical road. Julian swung his leg over the bike, then lifted Mena off. Her eyes danced with excitement at the breathtaking view that stretched in front of them.
He was so lucky to have her. The woman who’d made life worth living again with her unconditional love and acceptance of him, his flaws, and all the mistakes he’d made in the past. He’d trusted her with his deepest, darkest secrets and had gotten compassion and understanding in response. A liberating act that had changed his life forever.
“You think that’s beautiful,” Julian said tipping his head toward the light turquoise waters of the inlet. “Wait til you see what’s down there.”
Slipping his hand in hers, Julian led
Mena down a short trail through a copse of hibiscus bushes until the shrubbery gave way and revealed a thin stretch of black sand beach leading into the water.
“Amazing,” Mena said, kneeling to run her hand through the grainy black sand. “I can’t believe we have the place all to ourselves.”
“It’s more popular for sunrises, but the ridge up there blocks the area from the magnificent sunset views that you can get on the other side of the island. So, for right now, this is our own private space,” Julian explained.
“And what’s so magical about it?” Mena asked. She stood and stepped toward him, wrapping her arm around his waist.
“I was told that this is the only black sand beach in the Palmchat Islands outside of St. Felipe. The locals tell stories that over the decades, hundreds of people have come here and had all their troubles washed away. Floating in the water and drying on the black sand is supposed to cleanse you from all the pain and burdens in life. You emerge with a clean slate, ready to live life again without the challenges you’d faced before,” Julian said. “But there’s a sort of ritual to get the magic to work.”
“A ritual?” Mena giggled, lacing her fingers within his as he pulled her closer.
“Yes and after everything we’ve been through, I think we should do it. Couldn’t hurt, right?”
“I don’t know,” Mena said, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You haven’t told me what this ritual is …”
“It’s simple. First you need to take these off,” Julian said, pointing to her clothes.
“You know what happened the last time you lured me to go swimming in my underwear. I’m not sure about this …” Mena said, hesitating.
“Stop it. All of that is in our past,” Julian said, pulling the shirt over his head. Turning, he reached into his pocket and slipped the small box out, concealing it in his fist, then allowed his pants to fall to the sand.
Mena inhaled sharply as her eyes, smoldering with desire, trailed down his body, making him rock hard.
