An Ocean Between (Beachside Sweet Romantic Suspense Book 2)

by Rimmy London

  His smile grew to a grin, and he let a gust of breath out. “It’s what you should do.”

  “But?” I asked, glad to see the life return to his face.

  He finally wrapped me in his arms. “But not what I want you to do.”

  “Of course not. I’m with you.” I smiled proudly back at him until he silenced my victory with a kiss.

  Chapter 22

  I awoke with a start and my eyes shot to the window, to a flicker of movement. But the form had vanished into darkness just as quickly, and even though I’d fallen asleep in the safety of Givanni's arms, I didn’t need to search the bed next to me. I could feel that I was alone.

  “So where is she?” A voice hissed. I gasped, searching the darkness. “They’ve put a price on her head high enough to tempt her own mother.”

  “Who?” I breathed, “What do you mean?” I slid off the bed and backed against the wall, and the voice projected louder.

  “Enrica!” she yelled.

  I could hear her native accent. “She’s not here,” I lied, “she left.” It was foolish of me to even attempt it. I was a horrible liar.

  The woman laughed. “Please—let’s try this again.” A laugh shook in her throat, and I gasped at the closeness. With a click, the room lit up. The sleek dark hair of the girl from the diner shone in the beam of her small flashlight. She held a gun in one hand, and it inched closer to my chest. “Where is Enrica?”

  “She’s not here,” Givanni’s deep voice rang out from the doorway, and the girl turned so fast her hair billowed out like a cape. She switched her light off. I reached for her, but she was gone. From the other side of the room, I could hear a shuffling of feet.

  With my hands outstretched, I rushed to the door—and collided with Givanni. “Ouch,” I mumbled, rubbing my stubbed toe.

  “C’mon,” Givanni whispered, “I don’t think she was alone—our power’s out.”

  I couldn’t help but worry about Enrica, and I hoped that somehow she had known about our intruder before we did. Although, I doubted it would be hard for her to overpower the dark haired girl. I held the back of Givanni’s shirt as whe crept through the house, listening for any movement. But, it had become hauntingly silent. Givanni’s hand cupped my ear, “stay here—I’ll look downstairs,” he whispered. He dashed ahead before I could answer, and I walked forward even slower. With each step I searched the shadows. I passed an open bedroom door, and heard a whisper of voices inside.

  “…not upstairs, I’m sure.” Max said.

  I walked in to see a Jordyn and Max, huddled over a glowing light. Jordyn nearly jumped at the sight of me.

  “Have you seen her?” he asked frantically. I knew he meant Enrica, and I shook my head. “I know you think you’re just as valuable as any one of us,” Jordyn whispered, “but Loriel, stay here—I won’t have you endangering us.”

  I should have understood that he was afraid and anxious, and felt the weight of this on his shoulders—to save Enrica. But none of that would have changed my answer. “Why don’t you get on with it and quit worrying about me, Jordyn.” I snapped, watching his anger grow. It was clear he didn’t want to leave it at that. But he brushed it off and turned to Max, ignoring me completely.

  Their conversation was brief and simple, and I followed like a shadow as they ran from the room. Max turned only to hand me a small knife and look at me long enough for me to understand that I was on my own. For a moment I watched him run down the hallway, then slipping the knife in a pocket I sprinted forward.

  Stairs led to the lower level, and I hoped with each step to be met with Givanni. Max and Jordyn drifted further forward. Pressing against the back wall I observed as they inspected each corner. It was nerve-racking to wait.

  When a bulky shadow came from a room to my left, I held my breath to keep from screaming. He charged through the room at Max and Jordyn. The shadows of night hardly afforded a decent visual of what was happening, and from the snarls and grunts, I imagined it wasn’t going well. I flicked the blade from its enclosure, feeling my hand shake. But when I glanced back to where the big man had come from, a door stood open. I slid the knife back in my pocket and side-stepped to it.

  It was hard to imagine that beast of a man had been hiding in the small closet. Still mostly blind from darkness, I patted a few rows of pantry boxes before waving my hand along the lower section. The moment my fingers grazed cold skin I jerked my hand back, gasping and swallowing the urge to scream. It took all my strength to keep from running. With a breath I tried again, tracing the form crumpled on the floor to find tied wrists and silky hair. It was Enrica. I assumed he left her there when he saw Max and Jordyn—and that he would return for her.

  Adrenaline made my decisions almost instant. With my arms around Enrica, I heaved her halfway over my shoulder. I didn’t dare breathe as I made my way back as quickly as I could. My muscles burned as I charged up the stairs, sure I was making too much noise. Once I reached the upper level I charged into the first room I found, trying to be gentle as I lowered Enrica to the bed. But even with my efforts, her head thumped against the mattress.

  Frantic, I straightened her body, hoping everything under the surface was well. With a grip on her wrist, I felt for a pulse. After half a second I switched to her neck, sinking a couple fingers aside her throat and waiting desperately. The faint throbbing that surfaced almost knocked me to the floor. I tried to calm my shaking hand, whisking my fingers away and encouraging them to untie her wrists. The twine was strong, but hastily knotted, and as soon as I loosened it enough for her to move she took an audible breath. Twisting her hands from the twine, she lifted to a sitting position.

  And then I lost it.

  “Enrica!” I hissed, trying to whisper through all the emotion in my voice. Throwing my arms around her, I hardly noticed her stiffen. My sob only lasted a moment until I managed to choke it back. Smoothing her hair, I brushed it out of her face and rested my hands on her shoulders. “You’re alive.” I breathed. Irritating or not, Enrica was important to me. She was important to Givanni as well, but that thought I pushed aside. She had hardly a reaction to my blubbering, only staring at me intensely with her clear blue eyes. I wondered for a moment if she was completely coherent. “Are you hurt?” I offered, not used to this calm, still version of her normally hellfire self.

  Her eyebrows lifted. “Of course,” she returned, although she made sure to test every muscle before attempting to stand. The commotion below us had quieted, and we stood silently looking back at each other. Givanni hadn’t appeared since he’d dashed off after the dark-haired girl, and all I needed to know was that he was okay. No doubt her thoughts were a mirror of mine but directed at Jordyn. As much as she boasted independence, it was obvious her life had become closely connected to his.

  When both men entered the room, our reactions couldn’t have been more different. The air gusted from my lungs as I rushed forward, colliding with Givanni and tangling my arms around him. Enrica and Jordyn only stood closely together, looking intense and troubled.

  “They’re gone,” Max grumbled, entering behind Givanni and appearing extremely disappointed.

  “Not a bad idea.” Jordyn said before he glanced at me. “I’m sorry Loriel—and thank you.” Enrica nodded her head a tilt, and then they moved on. I was fine with that, in fact, it was more thanks than I would have expected.

  “Look, let me just say this,” Enrica started. “When I left Italy it came with a price. The cartel here in Mexico is easily bought, and I think it’s clear they’ve been given a price. We need to move.”

  “We can’t just continue on the run,” Givanni argued. “With a group like this, it’s almost impossible.”

  Jordyn was nodding halfway through Givanni’s argument. “You’re right—with a group like this.” He and Enrica stepped back decidedly, separating from us. “But we don’t plan on leaving with a group.”

  Givanni’s head lifted in understanding. “Ah—I see.”

  “I’m sorry
my friend.” Jordyn shrugged. “But there’s really no choice.”

  Givanni looked at Jordyn silently until they both stepped forward, gripping hands. And then Enrica and Jordyn dashed down the hall.

  I sighed, knowing that they were right. If there were two separate groups in two separate countries looking for Enrica the best thing to do was to disappear. If I didn’t know the two of them better, I might have been worried.

  Our now small group stood silently, each of us likely wondering the same things, but no one saying it. The black of night was giving way to grays, and together we wandered into the main living area again. The open concept was somewhat of a relief. I looked out on the room, appreciating Jordyn’s amazing taste. The modern, simplistic decor encouraged our eyes outward—to the view beyond.

  Having climbed the side of a mountain in the dark to get to it, I hadn’t noticed it. Now, as the grey relented to the pastels of early morning, it was an incredible thing to witness. I could almost pick out the little café we’d danced at, nestled in a small strip of village and cradled by the ocean.

  Givanni slumped into the couch with a puff of breath that sounded strangely like defeat. I let my eyes flicker to Max, and scrutinized his expression. He was watching the view also, but it hardly looked relaxing. He was transfixed, with as much of a severe expression as I’d ever seen on him. Clearly, he wasn’t imagining a solution to the mess we were in.

  I dreaded seeing that look on Givanni. But, when I looked at him with the morning sun catching the color in his eyes, an energy filled his face that I didn’t expect. His lip curved up on one side, the smile widening until it was a very confident grin. I was stumped, but even at the sight of my confusion he didn’t speak—only sat looking back at me like he was about to jump out of his seat. My hands rested on my hips, and with a tilt of my head I couldn’t hold back the smile any longer. Whatever was in his head was a complete mystery to me, but one thing was for sure…

  This man had found a way to freedom.

  Chapter 23

  “What is it?” Max had beat me to it, catching the look on Givanni’s face and appearing more than a little irritated by it. Whatever Givanni had going on, Max was left out too.

  “Okay,” he relented, more confident by the second. But so far Max hadn’t released any of the daggers in his expression. “I just heard back, only moments ago. It was my last attempt. It was the only thing I could come up with—the only thing I could think of that might possibly work.”

  I shook my head. He wasn’t making sense.

  “They’ll be here any second, so I really don’t have time to explain. I’m sorry abou—”

  The doorbell rang, and Max lifted a gun from his back. Givanni pushed it down, still looking giddy. “You won’t need that.” He said calmly, walking to the door and leaving us in our confusion.

  I tensed when the door swung open, sure Manwell was back with a dozen men. When Manwell did enter, I didn’t need to look at Max, I knew he was ready for anything. But the President appeared as confused as the rest of the room, minus Givann—he still looked thrilled. It was only seconds before the chaos descended on us.

  Commotion seemed to come from everywhere as strangers with cameras that were more lens than camera piled in behind Manwell. They were complimenting him like he’d saved the planet.

  I glared—he didn’t deserve that.

  “There she is!” I heard it once, and then echoed at least a dozen times, as eager faces turned in my direction. “Miss Lane!” I took a step back, but they surrounded me before I had even done that, flashing their giant lenses and laughing like I was the queen.

  “How did you do it, Miss Lane? A regular girl without any training—what a remarkable story.” I lifted my lip a tinge and a dozen lights popped, bleaching my vision.

  “Mr. President, if you please, step aside the young woman?” The request floated up from someone in the group, it was impossible to tell whom. Manwell smiled adoringly with fabricated humble appreciation glowing from his face. I swallowed, wishing I could be as composed. The most I could do as his arm fell around my shoulder and the lights flickered around us was to wipe the aggression from my features. Hopefully, it would come across as dramatic—a bit of shock maybe. What I really wanted was to strangle the rat standing next to me.

  The President’s security finally caught up with the group and filed in. Cameras eagerly caught the dark suits and their ever serious faces. But they were gently, sometimes not so gently, led from the room until we were alone again. Alone with half a dozen security guards and Manwell still smiling pleasantly. I wasn’t sure if I had smiled at all—I hoped so.

  Givanni walked slowly across the room, joining Max and myself, and turned to face Manwell. The lift of his head was victorious.

  Manwell’s pleasant expression narrowed, and his true feelings surfaced. “Clever Givanni,” he began, frustration brimming from the words. “When I heard the news this morning it was unbelievable—how such a thing could catch fire so quickly. Practically every newsroom in the country has already televised it.”

  “Well,” Givanni sighed, one arm naturally falling around my waist. “It is quite a story. Not something you hear every day.”

  Manwell brooded with ice in his stare, holding back what looked like quite a lot. “Yes, it is.” He breathed. “The President's secret team. Caught in a simple assignment by traitors—and then rescued by this unlikely hero.” His gaze rested on me, and I tried hard to stare back, and not to look to Givanni. “You even had proof. All those documents. When you cut out entire portions it works perfectly to prove your story. It is practically fact.” Manwell paced the room, and with a huff he stopped at the table, punching his fist down suddenly. “It will not hold!” He growled.

  Givanni chuckled, and I saw fire ignite in Manwell’s eyes. “What is it you don’t like about this story Manwell? The fact that you are the hero who uprooted an entire underground illegal operation or the fact that we, your secret team… are free?”

  Max’s head lifted as quickly as mine, both of our questioning eyes on Givanni. He looked pleasantly at my face as he continued. “Because while those documents prove our involvement in this stealthy plan, they also prove that… I… am… innocent.” And for the first time that day, my smile was genuine. I felt it fill my face and crowd my eyes. With half laugh and half sob, I threw my arms around him, both of us cheering at the euphoric lightheaded flood of freedom.

  I stepped back, trying to calm the energy bouncing around inside me. “No trial?” I whispered, tangling my hands in his and pulling him close.

  He wrapped his arms around my back. “Why would an innocent man need a trial?” His grin was back, strong and perfect.

  Pushing off my toes, I didn’t give him an option and kissed him while my head still spun. His arms around me tightened, and we lingered together longer than I had expected, not parting until Manwell finally cleared his throat.

  “Let me just say this. You have started a firestorm Givanni. It may seem like salvation, but that is the thing with firestorms, they’re quite unpredictable. I cannot guarantee you anything.”

  “Why would I want a guarantee from you?” Givanni scoffed, staring down Manwell until he looked away. The game had changed, and Manwell knew it. He was no longer controlling us, and whatever happened from this point, we were blissfully alone. It was freedom—and it felt incredible.

  Manwell’s phone buzzed, and he lifted it to his ear. A voice on the other end chirped happily, and I almost laughed. “Yes.” He grouched before slipping his phone in a suit pocket. Standing stiffly, he sighed his defeat. “We are needed for a group interview.” His eyes rolled a little. “They will be expecting each of us to look the part, I assume. The idea is to share our stories before we go our separate ways—they want us together. Outside you’ll find escorts.” He paused, looking at us indifferently.

  It was strange how all of his threats had dissipated, and with the soft turn of his features, it was hard to even imagine a harsh word co
ming from him. I guessed that was his job, to be whomever the public needed him to be. It felt one hundred percent wrong.

  “Goodbye.” He muttered, looking like a dog with his tail between his legs as he left. Once he opened the door, the dark boxy suits had surrounded him, meeting the noise outside with their heads high. The door swung closed, and with it the commotion was silenced.

  I listened to Max’s feet shuffle, and Givanni let out a breath. The sound of a helicopter outside thrummed steadily. A huff of breath behind me had my lip lifting on one side. Max continued to laugh, and I turned to see Givanni smiling. Chuckling harder, Max’s laugh had me laughing too, and once I started it was hard to stop. Our laughter bounced around the quiet, empty house like rays of sunshine, brightening the entire place. Stopping for breath we were huddled together, arms resting over shoulders.

  “Manwell…” With a breath, Givanni seemed reluctant to continue. “Manwell I thought we could trust—Boswik believed it also. I still hope Boswik can be depended on.” I turned to see Max nodding.

  “I believe he can,” He agreed. “But Givanni,” His eyes were wary. “What about Marco?”

  Givanni sighed, shrugging against the weight of our hands. “I still think he’s with us.” He sighed. My lips pressed together, and I thought back to seeing him on the island. Where had he come from? How did he know we were there?

  A polite tap on the door had us stepping away from our intimate circle, but it still felt like their arms were there. Supporting me—lifting me. I smiled.

  “We have the plane ready Sir.” A young lady said. She could have come across as professional if she hadn’t blushed at one glance from Givanni. “I expect they wouldn’t want you to be late.” She finished.

  My smile turned into a slight cringe. A plane. And after the plane, there was a crowd—expecting us. It seemed ridiculous to go from trying to escape the country one minute, to being celebrated by said country the next. But at least the company was good. I linked my arm around Givannis and he fairly crushed me to his chest. His hold tightened around me and he lifted my toes off the floor. After what he’d been through, it would have been expected for him to stay the reserved man he had been the last couple days, and I still would have loved him. But this was the man I adored.