Jewel of Solana

by Susan Sheehey

  Ward’s posture shrunk in the chair. A long moment passed before he spoke again. “Rumors are Bendetto was killed, we assume by Solanian forces. Mercenaries are fleeing the country or surrendering. Prince André is injured.”

  Her chest seized. “Injured? How?”

  “We don’t know. All of this is unconfirmed. Meaning it could be wrong. As soon as we have definitive intel, I’ll inform you of it personally.”

  “No.” I don’t trust you.

  “Excuse me?” War’s expression intensified.

  “I want to hear it for myself. Whatever room they’re using, I want to be there when the information comes in.”

  “Absolutely not, Princess. That’s against protocol.” He stood, and made his way to the exit.

  Alanna slammed her fist onto the table, bringing the U.N. delegate to an abrupt halt. Pain radiated up her arm, but she didn’t show it. She kept her glare glued to Ward. “That’s my country.” She rose, refusing to look up at someone as she gave a command. “Would you have expected anything else from King Rodrigo, or Crown Prince Tulio? From the leader of any other country under siege?”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Michaels’s face inch into a smile. Flynn stood beside her, his expression unreadable.

  Ward’s jaw twitched again, his annoyance clear. “No.”

  He snapped his fingers and Jones handed him several more files. He dropped them on the table with a loud thunk. “I was trying to save you from these images, Princess. But you’re the potential heir to the throne. Any leader would eventually be forced to see these. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Alanna frowned at his veiled insult, but didn’t rise to the bait. What he thought didn’t matter. Her people’s impression of their princess was more important.

  The manila folders were stark against the gray surface, the files daring her to open them. She didn’t want to see the contents any more than she wanted to relive the loss of her family. But she had to know. She placed her palms on either side of the files.

  Flynn touched her lower waist, the pressure gentle and reassuring. She needed his strength, his support, to make it through whatever was in these pages.

  “Give me a moment. I’ll inform Naval Intelligence of your request. At least until the end of the operation.” Ward checked his watch, his annoyed expression the only genuine emotion she believed.

  Why does this ‘operation’ feel like an invasion?

  Ward moved to leave, but looked back at Alanna. “As you assess these photos, I urge you not to think on what has already transpired, but instead what your country needs from you to recover.”

  Alanna raised her head, trying to make sense of this man’s attempt to counsel her. Perhaps he doubted her age, her gender, or generally enjoyed sounding condescending.

  “You can’t change the past,” he urged further. “But you can secure Solana’s future.”

  Alanna straightened. “Was that the same line you gave my father?”

  Just before the door closed, Alanna swore she saw him smile.

  THE SUN BLAZED OVER LOZANO’S head. Even early in the morning, his sunglasses didn’t block much of the rays, nor did his light suit dissipate the heat. Memo drained the bottle of Louis Tres in front of him, the helicopter blades behind him slowing to a stop.

  Only Memo had returned. No one else.

  Lozano flicked his cigarette into the grass beyond the concrete. Ricardo stood to the side, this time in a black suit and tie. Finally.

  “Did the rest of the crew take a holiday on that yacht?”

  Memo chucked the bottle, shattering on the private airstrip’s tarmac. Though his Tagalog thickened his accent, his English was fluent. “Nope. Napping with the fish.”

  “Jesus,” Ricardo muttered.

  Lozano’s prime rib from the night before churned in his stomach. “And your brother?”

  “Shoved in a drawer.”

  Memo’s slouch and nonchalant tone would have normally earned him a broken neck. For now, the cannibal was the least of Lozano’s worries.

  He’d just lost his top enforcer, the man he almost considered a friend.

  “Fuck.” Lozano popped his knuckles. Memo turned, keeping his side toward his boss. “That girlie was prepared for us. Bunch of guns on that thing, with people who knew how to use ’em.”

  The engineer can squeeze a trigger.

  Ricardo shifted behind him. No doubt keeping close in case he suffered another episode.

  It was just the damned heat.

  “Radio chatter picked up,” Memo continued. “The U.S. Navy was in bound to intercept. I hightailed out.”

  “Was anyone still alive?” Ricardo asked.

  “Julius. But that girlie was about to shoot his head off, so I didn’t stick around.”

  Lozano gritted his teeth. Julius had been promising, the only asset in Ricardo’s entourage that could have eventually taken Tiburón’s place. Now, he was a liability. If the purple-loving kid somehow survived this epic failure, he’d have to shove him in a drawer too.

  His hired assassin, Vasco, had never made it to their rendezvous point for this operation either. Nor had he returned any messages, which meant he’d pussied out. Or switched sides.

  If that bastardo turned on us, I’ll personally rip off his testicles, tenderize them in his gut, and roast them in his brain.

  Lozano’s fingers prickled with the urge to rip his gun from his waistband and imbed a slug in Memo’s head. In his hotheaded youth, he would’ve done it. But with age came wisdom. Control.

  With Tiburón in a drawer, he needed the brother. As vicious as his kin, and as eager to satisfy a sadistic penchant.

  His phone rang. Raul.

  “How’s the Indonesian bar scene?” Lozano asked.

  “Entertaining,” his youngest son answered, his higher pitched voice revealing his inebriated state.

  “Good to know you’re enjoying yourself at my expense.”

  “At least I have good news.” Music blared in the background.

  I could use some good news, right now. “Out with it.”

  “Those sleepers on Solana I told you about?”

  Lozano grunted.

  “They’re all tucked in, eyes open and ready.”

  Good. “How is enlistment going?”

  Raul laughed at a female voice in the background. “Promising.”

  Lozano rolled his eyes and hung up. He turned to Memo. “If you’re not otherwise occupied for the foreseeable future, I could use your talents.”

  He could feel Ricardo’s anxious stare behind him, clearly disapproving of their new potential recruit.

  Memo spit through his teeth, landing a foot away from Lozano’s shoe. “Depends.”

  “On?”

  “The pay.”

  Lozano cocked his head. “Double Tiburón’s price.”

  Memo shook his head, and his crazy eyes dared to meet Lozano’s. “Your body armor has vanished. You need him replaced. Takes more than money.”

  Dark fury filled Lozano’s chest. How dare this asshole threaten me! He tilted his head down, like a bull about to charge. “I earned my reputation long before you or your brother were born. I don’t need body armor. Just an enforcer.”

  The corner of Memo’s lip lifted. “Triple.”

  “Agreed. As long as you keep your hobbies out of my sight.”

  He shrugged.

  Ricardo swore under his breath, and retreated to the car at the edge of the tarmac.

  Memo didn’t even acknowledge him. “Where to now, amo?”

  Amo. Tagalog for boss. Lozano much preferred the more refined English.

  “Recruiting. My former assassin has reneged on our deal. Find Vasco. Make him regret it.”

  “A drawer for this one?”

  Lozano sneered. “No. How delectable would a world-class assassin be? My new bulldog needs a meal.”

  Memo’s eyes glittered.

  “GABRIEL? ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” Hannah Flynn wailed through the phone
. He hated seeing his mother cry, and hearing it was just as painful. Though he couldn’t understand why she answered his father’s phone in Australia.

  “You’re in Brisbane? When did you leave Los Angeles?” He glanced up, his eyes meeting Alanna’s across the small table in the tiny quarters. Her brown eyes laden with concern, she held his hand, just as he had held hers through reviewing those horrific files.

  “When your father called saying you were running from some terrorists in the Philippines, I dead-headed the next flight out.” Her voice was still strained, no doubt choking on tears. “Where are you? Have you been eating?”

  “I’m fine now, Mom. I promise.” He took a deep breath, suddenly shaky. It had been several months since he heard his mother’s voice, email the only communication they’d had. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized how much he missed her. How much hearing her words meant. “Has Dad disowned me?”

  “Are you kidding? He was furious when the Australian Navy wouldn’t let him on board to rescue you himself. And irritated they didn’t make it to you first, before the Americans. He’s been on the phone non-stop for days trying to bring you home. It’s the one thing he and I actually came together on without argument.”

  The two of them in one room scared him as much as staring down that gun barrel. They couldn’t stand each other.

  “When can you come home?” she pleaded.

  “I want to make sure Alanna gets to Solana safely, then I’ll fly back.”

  “I can’t believe all of this, kid.” Disbelief filled her voice, but Flynn managed a smile. After all this time, she still referred to him as a kid. “A princess, drug cartels, terrorists…makes my head spin. You’ve made some adventurous friends.”

  “You did say working with Dad would never be dull.”

  She laughed, and warmth burst in his chest. “I would like to meet this girl. After all, you risked your life for her. Worth at least a visit.”

  Flynn caressed Alanna’s knuckles. She’s worth a lot more than just a visit. His throat tightened at Alanna’s furrowed brow. “I would like that, too. But things are still really uncertain on Solana. She has a lot of people to—”

  “Oh, that’s right,” his mother cut him off. “She’s the new ruler or something. It’s all over the news. Wow. A queen. Gabriel, this is…this is just…”

  His gaze locked on hers, the realization hitting him for the first time.

  Alanna was a queen. Or was she? With her brother back on Solana, maybe André was the heir. Even though he was exiled, did that matter now?

  “We’ll figure it out, Mom. One way or another, you’ll meet Alanna.”

  The way he said her name, like it was his own, made his heart stutter. Alanna beamed at him from across the table, warmth filtering from her fingers into his skin. It still amazed him he could look her in the eye, and be so comfortable. So mesmerized. Like he couldn’t get enough.

  At the same time, it felt like their time together was almost over. That they’d be ripped apart by her responsibilities, by reality. Alanna was royalty. He was…different. Once she saw him outside all this chaos, she might not be as interested in him. Or realize she had other opportunities. Other men, worth a million more than him, with better qualities. Other men without Autism Spectrum Disorder.

  After all they’d been through, he couldn’t bear her walking away. She’d made him feel his eccentricities were cherished, not just a sideline or something to put up with. She knew all of him, and still sat beside him. Had saved his life. The thought of her leaving him made him shake.

  “Gabriel?” his mother broke in.

  He blinked. “What?” He swallowed the lump in his throat.

  “Call me as soon as you set foot on Solana.”

  “Will do.”

  “I love you, kid.”

  He swallowed again. “I love you, too.” He ended the call and set the phone on the table. Tension seeped out his pores.

  Alanna licked her upper lip. The subconscious gesture on her divine face invigorating him. He wanted to hold her, fall asleep with her wrapped in his arms on the tiny cot behind him, and wake up when all the craziness subsided.

  “What now, Princess?” he asked, casually.

  Her chuckle was tired and weak. “There’s so much to do when I get back. Burying my family, rebuilding everything…” Her shoulders sagged as a dark cloud passed over her face. “And a massive overhaul of our defense agreements, because those were severely lacking.”

  Flynn covered her hand with his own. She’d need so much strength for what was next. The gruesome photos of her deceased father, brother, sister-in-law, and nephew at the hands of Lozano’s mercenaries made his stomach roll. For added measure, they’d included a recording from the palace cameras, showing the murders in vivid detail. He never wanted to see such brutality again.

  But at least Alanna had survived. They could be remembered through her.

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for all of it,” she declared.

  Flynn shifted in his seat. After everything she’d endured, all the atrocities and tragedy, she deserved her freedom. A chance at happiness. But that was her call. If she made the choice without any self-doubt, it would be the right one.

  “Whatever you decide.” Flynn forced his voice to stay even. “You can do anything you want. You’re not only more than capable, you’re the best one for the job. If there’s a problem, you can fix it.”

  “That’s what my mother used to say.”

  “Mine, too.”

  Her smile widened. A blush filled her cheeks, all the way to her ears. The most heavenly sight he’d ever witnessed.

  God, don’t tear her away from me. I love her.

  He paused, and gasped.

  I just prayed. My first prayer, and it’s for Alanna.

  “I want you with me,” she announced.

  “I love you,” he said simultaneously.

  What did she say? Tingles raced up his arms.

  “What did you say?” she asked, breathless.

  “I love you,” he repeated. Though this time he was lightheaded. Am I about to pass out?

  But he meant it. For the first time in his life, he was in love. Every cliché to describe it flashed through his brain. Head over heels, out-of-the-ballpark, can’t-live-without-it, crazy-stupid love.

  “Please, tell me you meant what you said.” His voice was rushed, too airy, almost like he was begging. But he couldn’t control it. “That you want to be with me. Now, tomorrow, on Solana, or wherever we end up. As long as we end up together.”

  Her beautiful brown irises glossed over. A mixture of a sob and laugh came out of her. She stood and approached him, her smile so beautiful he couldn’t breathe. She straddled him in the chair, hooking her hands behind his neck, and gazed deep into his eyes. Right down into his heart.

  “I would never have survived this without you.” Her voice was shaky, too. “My whole world was ripped out from under me, and I didn’t know how I would go on.” Her lips trembled, and a tear escaped her eyelash. “Now I do.”

  When the tear reached her cheekbone, Flynn wiped it away. He couldn’t stand her crying, but happy tears could work on occasion. She grazed her lips across his. Then deepened the kiss, her tongue exploring the corners of his mouth. His body responded instantly, his dick hardening in his shorts, and a growl rumbled in his chest. Even after all this time, he could still smell her coconut scent.

  She pulled away, breathless and trembling. Her stare glued firmly to his. “I believe there’s a reason God brought me to you. You’re my guardian angel, Gabriel Flynn.”

  Every broken crack in his heart filled with love. Every second guess he’d ever had of himself, every moment where he’d been called a freak, abnormal or insufficient, didn’t matter. None of it. This woman loved him just the way he was. She looked at him as though the world revolved around him.

  He kissed a runaway tear from her cheek. “And you’re my angel,” he whispered in her ear.

  Whatever came t
heir way, they would face it—fix it—together.

  “My one regret,” she shuddered, her hands moving to the jewels around her neck. “I wish my family could have met you.”

  “Me too.”

  “They would have loved you…just as I do.”

  Just as I do.

  Flynn brushed her hair off her brow, wishing he could smooth away the creases in her forehead.

  “Queen, or Princess, or none of the above,” he pledged, “I’m with you.”

  MICRONESIAN KINGFISHERS FLITTED THROUGH THE treetops of the breezy hill, the noon sun brightening their blue wings and deep orange feathers. The transport helicopter approached the top of the hill, and a dozen iguanas skittered away, escaping to the trees beyond the clearing. Alanna couldn’t sit still in the seat as the chopper hovered, slowly descending to home soil. She traced the edge of Luna de Azul, safely clasped around her neck, waiting to return to the Royal Vault. When she smiled at Flynn beside her, he beamed back.

  A handful of people stood beside several white sedans, parked near the landing zone. She recognized the blue and gold uniforms of the Royal Guard, a welcome sight that had her nearly in tears.

  The chopper landed. The center figure in the crowd moved forward. The pepper haired man walked stiffly, his authoritative air indicative of a well-trained guard. It had been many years since she’d seen his warm smile.

  Stefano.

  André’s head bodyguard.

  Which meant André was there.

  She removed her headphones, and waited for the copilot to open her door. Once she set foot on the grass, she resisted from running to the man entrusted with her brother’s life. Instead, she waited for Flynn to climb down. The love of her life would be beside her the rest of her days, no matter what.

  The car doors opened and two people climbed out. The latter was a blonde, shorter hair wearing black sunglasses, a simple cerulean T-shirt and cotton pants. Her arm was in a sling.

  But it was the six-foot, dark-haired man who caught her breath.

  André.

  Her brother’s clean-shaven face and angled jaw line stunned her. Prince André’s signature goatee was gone. Now, she stared into their mother’s face, both sharing her soft, angelic cheekbones and eyes. Her brother had served as a constant reminder of the queen. What they had lost.