The Lost Seal: A Seal Romance

by Bell, Victoria

  Sheepishly, Elena slowly stepped down and faced the men.

  “I know but what else am I going to do around here?” she complained. “I’m a little bored.”

  Aaric sighed in exasperation.

  “We have discussed this,” he said with some annoyance, and he noticed a spark of the hurt cross through her face. “Look into college courses. Stop cleaning the house. If ICE stops by…”

  “What? Suddenly wives can’t clean their own houses anymore?” she demanded defensively. “How is that unusual?”

  “Elena, don’t be difficult,” Aaric snapped. “You know why this is different. Just find something else to occupy your time. I’m going to Miami overnight. Put the duster down. Please don’t have me tell you again.”

  Aaric spun to leave, Cameron on his heels and the two headed toward Cameron’s BMW parked in the long drive.

  “You’re a little harsh with her, aren’t you?” Cameron asked delicately.

  “What do you mean?” Aaric demanded, sliding into the passenger seat as his assistant unlocked the car. “I am trying to protect her. ICE are like vultures. If they detect one weakness between the two of us, we’re finished.”

  “I know that Aaric but you should still try being a little nicer to your wife. If she gets fed up with you and leaves, the gig will be up.”

  “She’s not going anywhere,” Aaric assured him. “We have a solid deal. I have already ponied up a million dollars to her.”

  He did not add that he had even better insurance. It was an ace he was keeping firmly up his sleeve for a special occasion.

  Just in case Elena gets unmanageable down the line. I will save the big guns for later on.

  Aaric admitted to himself that the novelty of the marriage was wearing off. While Elena was pleasant enough, she was by no means his match.

  How could she be? She belonged to a middle-class family and worked as a housekeeper. He was the CEO of the biggest technology companies in the south and a self-made billionaire.

  She is merely a means to an end, but she already forgets that.

  Asking where he was going was something she would not have done a month earlier, but it seemed that with each day that passed, Elena slipped more into her role as his wife and less as his maid. The blurred line seemed to be affecting her attitude toward him.

  It didn’t stop her from filling her time cleaning the mansion, but she did not allow him the same peace she once had.

  We are going to need to re-evaluate the terms of our deal, Aaric thought grimly. When I get back from Miami, we’re going to have a long talk.

  He assumed that Elena was merely bored. After all, she had nothing to do but wander the halls of the estate and even when he was home, Aaric was consumed with work-related issues.

  It did not stop him from growing increasingly irritated with Elena.

  Before their marriage, Elena had been a quick-witted enigma to whom he had always been attracted.

  Yet it seemed as soon as he had put the too expensive ring on her slender finger, she was something else.

  Aaric didn't quite understand that he was forced to regard Elena as a person suddenly whereas she had only been another potential conquest before.

  Maybe I’ll call Ilona to the office tonight, Aaric thought, a small smile toying on his lips. He hadn’t seen her in weeks, and he needed to unleash some of his pent-up nervous energy. Ilona could certainly assist with that.

  “Do you have a plan?” Cameron asked, shattering his reverie. Aaric shoved Ilona and Elena from his mind, determined to focus on his company’s issues.

  The women he could deal with when the important tasks were resolved.

  Oliver Dane could not believe his good fortune, and as he climbed from his vehicle, he almost tripped over his feet running to the front desk.

  “Can I get a room facing south, something on the higher floors? The higher, the better, really,” the agent blurted out to the concierge. The bored twenty-year-old nodded and punched his information into the computer before handing him a fob.

  “Fourteen oh six,” the kid told him. “Check out is at eleven.”

  Oliver nodded gratefully and hurried toward the elevators, briefcase in hand.

  Oh, don’t start without me, he thought, praying for the elevator to move faster. I have been waiting for this for days.

  In fact, it had been weeks. Oliver’s free time had consisted of following Aaric Buckley, and when he was not on the billionaire’s trail, he was daydreaming about catching him.

  He was collecting complaints daily for his lack of attention and not following protocol.

  I will get back on track as soon as Aaric Buckley is in the UK where he belongs. I won’t rest until he finally gets what’s coming to him.

  Oliver had sought out many avenues to make Buckley crack, but it seemed he always came up short.

  Until then.

  The weakness isn’t Buckley. The weakness is Elena. I have to crack Elena, and then I will get to Aaric, he realized, flinging open the door to room 1406.

  He barely ensured the door was closed at his back when he was tearing open the balcony doors.

  His heart is hammering, he could not believe that fate had smiled upon him so brilliantly.

  My persistence has paid off, he thought gleefully, opening his briefcase. Today I will get my man.

  The doorbell was chiming, and it startled Elena out of a deep, sensual sleep. She had been dreaming that she and Aaric were making love at the poolside, being watched by Wen and Carter. Aaric flipped her into myriad positions, twisting her about as if she was a contortionist and each move brought her to higher levels of ecstasy.

  Having the eyes of the others on her only created more of a frenzy in her writhing body and when the cursed bell went at eleven o’clock that evening, Elena was angry.

  The dreams about Aaric had become a nightly occurrence, and she wondered what they meant.

  Of course, you’re curious what he’s like in bed, she chided herself. It’s only morbid interest, nothing more.

  Still, Elena found herself longing for sleep and those filthy fantasies which seemed to intensify with every passing night.

  Who the hell is calling at this hour? She wondered, sitting up in her bed. As her eyes adjusted to the moonlit walls, she could hear the gentle waves of Norris Cut lapping outside her open balcony doors.

  She waited, listening but it was futile. She would not be able to hear anything between the thickness of the walls and the distance between her room and the front door.

  Did Veronica answer the door? She wondered, but she did not hear the tinkle of the ringer again.

  Unable to relax, she slipped out of her double bed and wandered into the hallway, toward the floating stairs.

  As she made her way around, she could hear raised voices, one Veronica’s for certain.

  Poor woman, Elena thought, rushing toward the steps. She’s been here two weeks, and she’s already regretting it.

  At the landing, Elena froze, seeing who was the cause of the commotion.

  “Oh, Mrs. Buckley,” Veronica cried. “Did we wake you?”

  Elena shook her dark head and glared at Agent Dane.

  “What are you doing here, Agent Dane?” Elena demanded haughtily. “It is the middle of the night.”

  Oliver smiled tightly and bowed in the form of apology.

  “Forgive me, Elena,” he said, and Elena scowled.

  “The least you can do is pretend to show some respect,” she snapped. “I don’t remember giving you permission to use my first name.”

  “Mrs. Buckley, should I call someone?” Veronica asked nervously, glancing between the two and smelling the power struggle as it unfolded.

  “Where is my husband?” Elena asked the new housekeeper.

  “Actually, Mrs. Buckley,” Oliver interjected. “That’s why I’m here.”

  Elena sensed danger and nodded at Veronica.

  “I’ve got it from here, Veronica,” she told her, smiling. “Go back to
bed.”

  “Are you sure, Mrs. Buckley?”

  “I’m sure. This is a federal agent. I am sure I’m not in mortal danger even if he has no respect for time.”

  Veronica eyed Oliver with distaste and exited the foyer.

  “What do you want, Agent Dane?” she asked again. “Is my husband all right?”

  Oliver chuckled without humor.

  “Is there somewhere we can go to talk?” he asked, but Elena folded her arms over her chest.

  “We’re talking. This is somewhere,” she retorted. “Spit it out.”

  In her mind, Elena wondered how much longer ICE would bother with these random pop-ins.

  “Fine,” the agent agreed. “But I think you might want to sit down.”

  Elena did not move, her eyes boring into Oliver’s blue ones. He shrugged nonchalantly, reaching into a manila envelope he carried in his hands.

  “Do you know where your husband has been the past three nights?” he asked. Elena did not respond, her gaze never wavering as she waited for him to get to the point. She knew he had not been deported; she had texted him just before going to bed, and he was staying in Miami for another night.

  “Okay, I see you don’t feel like answering questions which is your right. But I thought you might be interested in knowing the truth.”

  Elena gritted her teeth and waited.

  Here it comes, she thought. He’s going to give me a list of all Aaric’s shady business partners and ask me to help put him away. Too bad he doesn’t know I know absolutely nothing about his company. Even water boarding won’t work, buddy.

  Oliver thrust a picture into her hands, and as Elena looked down, she suddenly realized he was taking a far different tactic.

  In a glossy black and white eight by ten photo, Aaric was entangled in a passionate embrace with the escort she had seen in the house months before.

  “That was taken last night,” Oliver said conversationally, holding out another picture. It was another lewd shot of the girl inhaling Aaric’s member.

  “This one here was taken two nights ago, and I have others spanning back the last month.”

  Elena ground her teeth together so loudly; she was shocked they didn’t break.

  “I am very sorry to show these to you,” Agent Dane lied. “I know you just got married and all.”

  “Seriously?” Elena asked sharply, and he looked at her in surprise.

  “Seriously, yes. This is what your faithful husband has been doing at night while you stay home in wait.” The thick layer of sarcasm was not lost on Elena, but she was no fool, and she scoffed at him.

  “You woke me up to show me pictures which may or may not be legitimate at eleven o’clock at night? Do your superiors know you’re doing this?”

  Oliver lost his tiny, self-satisfied smile and Elena noted his face go pale.

  Choke on that, you smug bastard.

  “I realize that you have a hard on for my husband, Agent Dane but I think your obsession may be leading you off the right path. I would quit now before someone files a formal complaint about your behavior. After all, it looks very strange that I am standing here in a nightgown alone while you show me pornography, does it not? A lot could be interpreted by this.” She gestured over her head to indicate the security cameras facing the front door.

  “Especially when it’s being documented.”

  Their eyes locked and Elena watched as the agent visibly backed away.

  “I did not mean to upset you, Mrs. Buckley,” he muttered, gathering the photos and stuffing them back in the envelope as if her words stung his core.

  “Oh no? You thought that bringing me alleged proof of my husband’s infidelity would make me do cartwheels? Or were you hoping that I would throw my hands up in jealousy and tell you what you wanted to hear? That this marriage is a farce?”

  Oliver swallowed and turned away.

  “I know your husband is used to getting exactly what he wants at any cost to anyone,” Oliver replied, pulling open the front door. “You will be no different, Elena. When he is finished with you, you will be someone he drops in a gutter. Mark my words.”

  “Duly noted, Mr. Dane. Thank you so much for stopping by. Please try to keep your visits between office hours going forward.”

  She did not wait for him to reply as she slammed the door in his face.

  Elena turned, falling back against the closed wood, her heart hammering wildly.

  Tears of humiliation burned behind her lids and she tried to will them away, but they slipped down her cheeks as she closed her eyes.

  Why are you crying? She asked herself. So, he’s been staying in the city with a hooker? Who cares? You both are free to do what you want. He didn’t bring her here. That was our deal after all. What difference does it make?

  Yet in her heart, Elena knew it made a huge difference. Somehow, she had lowered her guard with Aaric, despite her resolve not to do so.

  How could she not?

  He had picked her up from a place where she had no hope for the future and turned her into a millionaire college student.

  She had found someone to care for the house in which she had been raised and sent her parents to live in a luxurious retirement community in Miami so they would be closer to both her and Lorenzo.

  He no longer barked at her and she could see in his eyes that he felt differently about her.

  Or am I completely losing my mind and imagining everything? I thought he cared for me too.

  But how could he if he was basically shacking up with another woman?

  And he’s been lying to me. God, I am such a fool!

  Elena wiped the tears from her eyes and headed toward the staircase.

  Screw this, she thought, bypassing her own small bedroom. He’s not coming home anyway. I may as well take over the master bedroom.

  And as Elena curled into the sheets, she found herself burying her face in the depth of Aaric’s pillow, inhaling his scent.

  Forget about him, she urged herself. He’s not the one changing the rules, you are. He has done nothing wrong, and you can’t be angry.

  Logic had no place in Elena’s mind as she wrapped herself in the umbra of Aaric’s aura, willing herself to sleep.

  The dream she had that night superseded all the others combined.

  Chapter Eight

  Aaric had spent the better part of a week in Miami, bouncing between his office and a hotel room he had rented specifically for him and Ilona.

  His days had been long and filled with strategic planning, calling in all avenues of the company to revamp and reface their failing image while his nights had been consumed with sweaty exercises and champagne.

  It was a heady combination, and as Aaric arrived home to Fisher Island, he felt refreshed and confident that business was about to take a turn for the better.

  Our new marketing campaign will detract from the legal problems, Aaric thought as he entered the house, climbing through the darkened halls. It was well after midnight, and he could hear little but the slight crash of the waves to the shore in the distance.

  From now on, I am Aaric Buckley, family man, he thought, grinning to himself. He was half amused, half alarmed by the sound of the words.

  It had been Cameron’s idea to use his new marriage as a turning point for the company.

  “You should exploit it for all its worth. Instead of billionaire playboy, you are a ‘changed man’ with a wife. Your priorities are no longer on the money. You are a traditional man. Do you think you can handle that?”

  Aaric stared at him, his mind spinning.

  Of course! He thought gleefully. Why didn’t I think of that?

  Opening the door to his suite, he undid his tie, humming softly to himself.

  Tomorrow I call the press and arrange for interviews with Elena and me. I will prepare her for the public eye somewhat, and we can sell this together.

  Unbuttoning his silk button down, he paused, looking at his California king bed. Elena was curled on her side,
breathing evenly against the crisp sheets, her dark hair a startling contrast to the ivory of the linens.

  For a long minute, Aaric remained to stare at her, unsure of what to do.

  Has she been sleeping here all week? He wondered, his heart rate beginning to accelerate as he took in her lovely, lean frame. Has she been waiting for me to come home?

  She was breathtaking at that moment, an untouched innocence about her. He would be lying if he denied his attraction to her over the years but he had learned to keep it at bay after her initial rebuffs.

  But now she was his wife. Would she be open to intimacy? What if he slipped into the bed beside her and embraced her against his naked body? Would she wake and slap him or sink against him?

  The desire to find out was overwhelming, and Aaric slowly slipped off his pants, his heart hammering.

  This is a bad idea, he warned himself, but he could not stop himself as he lays on the bed at her side. Aaric was many things but a brute he was not. If she protested, he would apologize and retreat immediately, but he knew he would hate himself if he did not seize the opportunity.

  Carefully, he rested his head against his palm, sitting on his side to gently stroke her arm.

  Elena sighed and stirred, her eyelids fluttering slightly. Aaric froze, ready to spring from the bed but she did not wake.

  His fingertips traced the skin of her shoulder and then, he leaned forward to kiss the soft, olive skin.

  Inhaling sharply, he realized that she tasted like salted honey and he knew that there would be no going back – if she let him.

  Again, Elena’s lips parted and slowly her lids opened.

  “Aaric!” she gasped as reality began to settle in. “What are you doing?”

  Instantly, he drew back and hung his head in shame.

  “You just looked so beautiful,” he murmured. “I – I’m sorry.”

  She stared at him pensively, sitting up and taking in his naked frame. Her chocolate eyes widened with interest as her eyes traveled down his body and backed up to his face.

  Without speaking, she drew toward him, pausing inches from his face.

  “If we do this, there’s no going back,” she told him.