Unchained

by Roze, Robyn

  He stood back and took his time admiring the beauty standing before him, proud and confident under his hungry gaze. He had told her once she was beautiful inside and out. That fact was never truer than at this moment. His focus skipped back down to something unfamiliar. A glint of sunlight reflected at her navel. He kneeled in front of her for a closer look, his grin and desire growing.

  “It’s an aquamarine. I picked it for its meaning,” she said, fingers combing through his damp hair, “water of the sea. I read there was a time when sailors used it as a talisman for good luck and protection.”

  The air left his lungs. This woman. This singular woman…

  “And, now, you are my talisman,” he murmured at her belly, his eyes flicking upward, as he gently tugged the light blue stone between his lips.

  She gasped at the sensation. “I’m whatever you need me to be. Always. Because I’m yours.” Her hand rounded under his chin, her expression sober. “And you’re mine.”

  He slowly rose, and she turned her back to him, his command wordless, her wish the same as his. Circling the necklace at the base of her throat, their promise renewed, he fastened the clasp. Then he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly to him, her back against his front. Their bodies slick with water, no daylight between them.

  “You own me,” he whispered next to her ear, emotion thick in his voice. “No one else can claim that. Not ever. Only you.”

  She trembled in his arms, his fingers and words teasing a soft moan from her.

  “I’m a lot of responsibility, so use your power wisely,” he said, feeling the push of her smile against his cheek.

  She snaked her arms up, hooking her hands behind his neck, surrendering unfettered access to everything he wanted.

  And he wanted it all.

  Chapter 31

  A balmy ocean breeze skipped across flushed skin and rumpled bedsheets.

  “When are you going to tell me?” Sean asked, sounding carefree and content.

  The subdued question dragged Shayna from the foggy brink of sleep. “Tell you what?” she yawned, with a satisfied sigh at the end.

  His fingertips swirled at her shoulder, her head resting on his chest. They had spent the last several days like this. No need for clothes. No need to go beyond the boundaries of their bed, kitchen, or private little cove.

  “How did you get here?” His fingers brushed at her cheek.

  “Oh, that again.” She intentionally sounded bored, giggling when he untangled their legs and rolled her onto her back, pressing her against the warm white sheets.

  “I’m serious, Shay. Tell me.”

  His handsome, distracting face hovered above hers, sexy silver wisps at his temples, his jawline rugged and unshaven. The most recent memory of his bearded face scratching against her skin, between her legs, heated her from the inside out. She really wanted to touch the scruff right now. Her palms itched to do it. But he had her hands pinned above her on the bed.

  “I like your face. I missed it. A lot,” she said, her expression and voice dreamy.

  He looked confused, and then aware. “You are not going to change the subject or distract me with your considerable charm—this time.”

  She slid her free, bare leg along his body. “You’ll lose,” she teased softly, “again.”

  His eyes creased in a smile, the memories replaying in his head.

  “Why won’t you tell me? I’ve answered every question you’ve asked me. And you won’t answer this one for me.” His expression turned impish. “For the face you like so much.”

  “I really do like your face.”

  “Shayna,” he complained, dragging out her name in a frustrated chuckle.

  She held her words, the calls of howler monkeys living up to their name in the forest around them filling the quiet spaces. “I think you should just admit I did an excellent job of getting here safely and leave it at that.”

  “You know I can’t do that. I’m not letting this go. Your brother couldn’t even get a trace on you.”

  “Ah, yes, my brother, who knows more about you than he should. Why is that, by the way?”

  “Don’t even try to change the subject.”

  “I’m not. I just don’t understand why you would tell him the things he knows.”

  “I didn’t tell him anything. He asked me to confirm or deny his suspicions. That’s it.”

  “Mm-huh. And how’d he get those suspicions?”

  Sean laughed, surprise lighting his face. “He never told you he had me checked out? Wanted to make sure I wasn’t shady. After your money. That kind of thing.”

  Shayna shook her head, stunned.

  “Let’s just say your brother is,” Sean searched around for the right word, “experienced. He knew how to read between the lines of the report he got back on me. Only someone skilled at covering his own tracks can recognize when someone else is concealing theirs. That alone told me a lot about who I was dealing with, and it earned a mutual respect between us.”

  Shayna scrutinized him for a few silent moments, her imagination running through scenarios based on this latest information about her enigmatic brother. It also explained why he and Sean had bonded so easily and early on.

  “Does that mean you two have worked together?”

  “No.”

  “Then what’s this import-export business of his?”

  He smiled sweetly down at her and brushed his nose against hers. “I agreed to tell you my secrets. Not his.”

  She scoffed. “Sounds like I need you to sign an addendum,” she teased, laughing as his unshaven face tickled against her neck.

  “Too late. You had your chance.” He kissed her quickly. “Now, tell me why Scotty’s connections,” his index finger shot up in front of her face, “which I will not discuss, couldn’t find you.”

  “Oh, please. He thinks I’m a pain in the ass. He was probably glad I left.”

  Sean studied her for a moment, not buying her flippancy. “You’re fucking with me.”

  She wriggled her hips underneath him, one eyebrow raised in a lustful invitation.

  “Stop that,” he warned, the hint of a smile at play on his lips. “His contacts should’ve been able to find something.”

  “And yours?”

  He guarded his response for a moment, annoyance marking his features. “They’ll find something I can work with, eventually.”

  Faking indifference, she said, “It really is a waste of your resources, Sean. But good luck to you.” She raised her head off the bed and planted a lust-filled kiss on his lips.

  He was, unfortunately, holding strong against her advances.

  “I wouldn’t have to waste my resources if you’d just tell me.”

  She remained tight-lipped.

  “Maybe I should come up with my own list—for you to sign.” He looked pleased with himself, and not as irritated as he pretended to be.

  She loved this new Sean Parker, more playful, more laid-back. The change in him had made her realize over the last few days that even when he seemed relaxed in the past, he hadn’t been, not completely. Until now, he had always been shielding a part of himself from her, protecting her from it, and making it impossible to truly know him.

  Now, he behaved like a freed man. A man who could at last relax and be himself, share the grim parts of his life story, and trust she would stay and love him through it all. With each new layer he revealed, noble or not, her love for him swelled like a high tide on a warm shore; the treasures left in its wake, hers alone to collect.

  “You don’t need to make a list. I’ll tell you.”

  His face brightened in surprise and victory.

  “When I’m ready.”

  “Shayna Parker,” he grumbled, shoulders slumping in defeat.

  She slipped one hand free from his and snaked it in between them. “Please let it go. For now, at least. Just let me have this win a little longer,” she whispered, squeezing gen
tly and feeling him harden in her hand, “and then I’ll tell you everything.”

  Suspicion narrowed the desire in his eyes. “Promise?”

  Her fingers tightened around him. “I promise.”

  Indecision and unrelenting curiosity crisscrossed his features. “I want a compromise. I want you to tell me the basics of how you got here—like a trained agent. The details can wait—for now.”

  He rolled off her and onto his side, releasing her grip on him, head propped up in one hand, fingers on the other fiddling with the gem at her navel.

  Shit. How could she argue with that?

  Simple. She couldn’t.

  There was one small problem, though. Such a compromise ruined her plan to call Jonathon Martel, thank him for his help, and, more importantly, come clean about her marital status; at which time, she would apologize to him for her impolite manipulation. She had delayed making the call until she could set eyes on Sean, not wanting to endanger either of them, or anyone else, until she knew his mission was over.

  In her grand scheme, the call to Jonathon would have happened before telling Sean the specifics of how she managed her clean getaway. She knew using her ‘considerable charm’ on another man would not sit well with her protective husband. Therefore, when she confessed, she had hoped to assure him Jonathon was already aware of her deception.

  Perhaps she could still do that with Sean’s proposal.

  Here goes…

  “I have a friend with a plane.”

  Sean remained unmoved, quiet, and waiting for more.

  “And I asked that my name be omitted from the passenger list,” she said, calm and confident, hoping the questions would end with the matter-of-fact statement.

  Still mute, his targeted stare unnerved her a bit. But she held it, refusing to look away first, even with his distracting gentle tugs at her piercing.

  After a few long seconds he said, “That’s quite a favor. Must be a really good friend.”

  She swallowed the apprehension rising in her throat from the steady measure of his pointed gaze, and a reaction that felt too nonchalant for him.

  “Yes.”

  He stayed stoic, his inscrutable behavior frustrating as hell to her.

  “Yours? Or his?”

  Her brow scrunched. “What? I don’t understand the question,” she stammered.

  “Is this a generous friend of yours? Or your ex?”

  Sean had put it together. He had only needed her to lay out the first couple of pieces of the puzzle. Of course, that’s all he needed.

  “Both of ours.” She tried to sound convincing, but he kept watching her, waiting for the unvarnished truth. “He was Frank’s friend, okay? What difference does it make?”

  He stayed irritatingly quiet.

  “He’s old, Sean.” Why had she blurted that?

  “So was your ex.”

  Indignation burned in her lungs.

  “Did you pay him anything for fuel and a crew like you would a chartered flight?”

  She looked away, teeth gritting together.

  “It’s okay, Shay. I get the picture. You made false promises to some rich old fart, betting he’d let you use his plane, by letting him think he’d get to use you, later.”

  She deserved that. But it did not make it any easier to hear. Nor did it stop her from knocking his hand away before locking her arms across her chest in defiance, and a little embarrassment. “You put me in that position.”

  “What?”

  “Your intentions were good, Sean, and seeing Dani was wonderful. But…” she paused, drawing a deep breath, “you don’t understand how many memories I have in Paris—with Frank. Our honeymoon, countless trips there during our marriage. It was his favorite place. We’d even stayed in the Shangri-La—twice.”

  She glanced at him; he had paled a bit.

  “On one hand, it was good being forced to face all that. And I did. But then, I needed to leave. I needed to breathe different air. I needed to be someplace that made me feel closer to you than to him. That was my choice to make. And it always will be.”

  “Shayna, I’m sor–”

  “Stop,” she interrupted, shaking her head, “I’m not looking for an apology. I don’t need one. What I need is for you to understand that I am in charge of myself: where I go, when I go. Not you. Not anyone else. Me.”

  He nodded softly. “I think that’s number five,” he said, a hint of humor around the edges, as he reached out to trace her cheek.

  The reminder of her list of demands, and his dramatic acceptance of its entirety, lightened her mood. A little. “I’m careful and smart. I’m resourceful, with my own money and methods. You can think whatever you want about the means I used to get here, but I got here without you or Scotty knowing how I did it. I’m pleased with that. You should be too.” She aimed a pointed look at him. “We’re very much alike, wouldn’t you say?”

  His poker face had vanished, now alight with admiration and desire. “Oh, Shayna Parker. I think I will always be awed by you.”

  Her fingertip tapped lightly at the tip of his nose. “I like your change of tune.”

  He bit back a grin.

  Drawing a deep, thoughtful breath, he said, “If I were to guess at your methods, I’d say you left the old fart back in Paris with no idea of where you’d be going once his borrowed plane landed. He wouldn’t have asked too many questions, either—too preoccupied by the payment he was expecting from you later. Those X-rated images of you in his bald, age-spotted head probably fried his circuits.” He chuckled at the comment, then unfolded her arms and brought her hand down in between them, returning her grip on him. “If any man knows how distracting you can be, it’s me.” He pulled her closer. “I’d also bet you didn’t land anywhere near here—misdirection. Then you used cash and false names—Wanda.”

  They snickered at the name she had used since staying in Picinguaba.

  “I’m also pretty sure you have accounts you access with only a number, no name, no way to track who you are, let alone where you are.”

  Stroking him in her hand, she spoke, breathy with need. “You talk as if you might have similar means and methods.”

  His lips brushed against hers in agreement. “We are very much alike, Mrs. Parker.”

  His hand slid around her neck, threaded through her hair, and cupped the back of her head. “I am pleased and impressed with the preparations you made in coming here. All the precautions you took to keep yourself safe, when I couldn’t be there to do it.” He pressed his lips to hers before she could counter.

  She knew he had done it on purpose but was okay with it. This time.

  Because, right now, it was time for action.

  Chapter 32

  A peaceful expression softened the strong angles of Sean’s face, his sanguine gaze fixed through the sun-streaked window above the instrument panel, and across the bow of the Tuscan Dream. In the distance, settled among the hills of Mykonos, white-washed homes and windmills bobbed gently against an azure canvas of cloudless skies. One of countless picture-perfect locations where they had dropped anchor in the Greek Isles over the past unhurried weeks.

  A carefree spirit guided him these days, a wiser cousin to the one he vaguely remembered from his youth when he and Mick had chased girls, drag-raced cars, and stirred up trouble out of sheer boredom, their lives not yet burdened with hard adult choices, and the long-lasting consequences of them. Yet, the freedom he felt now was even better than the fleeting memories of it from back then.

  He moved his gaze away from the postcard view to rest in an open doorway. Leaning against the doorjamb, he marveled at Shayna, her eyes closed, bikini-clad body stretched across a plush double lounger. Her painted toes wriggled at the tickle of sunlight sneaking under the canopy, fluttering under the caress of a warm Aegean breeze. Breathing in the salty air, he thanked his lucky stars for the woman who freed him. Healed him. The woman who had unchained him from the bottom of a bl
ack abyss, a self-imposed prison, the weight of his past like an ocean pressing down on him. He had been holding his breath down there for so long; it wasn’t until he relented and followed her lead to the surface that he felt the rush of salvation fill his lungs. From redemption, a better man awakened. One who had finally found the road leading home.

  A man who at last felt deserving of a happy life, with her.

  Picinguaba had changed everything for him. Any question she asked about his past, he answered. Directly. Honestly. In doing so, he quieted the raging demons he had locked inside himself for so long. She made that feat possible by facing his monsters with him, without looking away. Without judgment. Without any sign of disillusionment in her eyes. She had taken his shames and worst acts and loved him just the same. All of him. It was staggering. An unconditional acceptance he had never expected from her, from anyone. A rare gift she would never regret having offered him.

  That was his new mission in life.

  Glancing over his shoulder at his laptop, colorful images and scores of documents remained open on the screen. He reached back and shut the lid, chuckling to himself. He had not decided yet whether to keep the contents of the digital folder to himself. It would be entertaining to see her reaction to what he had learned. If she reacted at all. Because Shayna Parker was a cool cookie, a resourceful, determined woman, even more so than he had realized. She was his equal in all ways. If he had not appreciated her fortitude before, he certainly did now.

  Their life together would be remarkable. It already had been.

  Her eyes still closed, one corner of her mouth tipped up a bit. Did she know he was staring at her? Thinking about her? Probably. Over their time together, he had become convinced she was a mind reader. Question answered, eyes still closed, she patted his invitation on the space beside her.

  He ambled over, planted his hands on either side of her pedicured feet and began a lazy crawl over her body, his tongue tasting her sweet skin, his lips tugging at the meaningful gem nestled in her navel, his nose inhaling her healing essence—his oxygen. His antidote.

  The curl of her fingers under his chin brought his face to hers. “You’ve been awfully busy in there. What have you been doing? Anything I need to know about?”