I hear the cheers, applause, and laughter as the final vow is said.
It’s the wedding event of the year for Monaco.
Which is saying something.
Along with family, the guest list is The Who’s Who of almost every industry from business to entertainment, and even a few members of royalty—as well as a former Pirate and his very fascinating fiancée.
But Magnus and I only have eyes for each other as our lips connect in a kiss. Our first as husband and wife. Even as the cheers grow louder around us, we savor it for a bit too long.
When we separate, we stare at each other, enjoying this moment. Then, we separate to turn and face those who have come to wish us well on our special day.
As I look out over the faces smiling back at us, the excitement builds in me. When Magnus reaches out to take my hand, that same electricity courses through my veins that fills me with the anticipation of everything yet to come. I know that even eighty years from now, should we both make it that long, the intensity of it won’t have faded.
Because we both complement and contradict each other. He’s the yang to my yin, the negative to my positive…the perfect match.
It’s going to be an amazing adventure.
Epilogue
“So, are you scared yet?” I ask, looking over at Magnus.
“Twice over,” he says, his eyes still focused on the two recent additions to the Reinhardt family. A boy and a girl.
“Well, take a breather while they’re both taking a breather. Danielle is a screamer. Come keep me company in this bed.”
I watch Magnus smile a bit and reach out his hand to Max, who is apparently still awake since his tiny hand comes up to wrap around one of his father’s thick fingers.
“This one is going to be the poker player in the family,” Magnus says with a grin. “He gives nothing away until you force his hand.”
“Or he might surprise you,” I hint.
Magnus turns to me with a smirk, and when Max lets go, he walks over to settle on the bed next to me.
I wrap both arms around his neck and grin. “Only a week old and you’re already planning their futures.”
“Just preparing myself.”
“Well, prepare to be surprised. After all, they are our children. What are you going to do when they start walking…talking…driving?”
Magnus groans.
I laugh and pull him in closer. “He’ll probably want to take your motorcycle out. She’ll be riding next to some boy in his convertible down those winding streets, hell, she may even be the one driving.”
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I just became a father.”
Frankly, both thoughts cause my heart to go through a few palpitations as well. “Just getting you ready for when you inevitably butt heads, I think more so with Danielle than Max.”
“She is the one that keeps us up most nights so far. I don’t see that changing as she gets older,” he says with a chuckle.
I smile. “I think we’ll handle it okay. We’ll use our parents as examples.”
“I guess I know what to do if he’s scared of sharks,” Magnus says with a wry grin.
“Or clowns,” I say with a shudder. “Though is there really a cure for that one?”
“No,” he says with a straight face. “Sharks? Spiders? Snakes? No problem. Everyone should be scared of clowns.”
I laugh and pull him in to kiss his cheek.
“I think the key is to…let them be. At least they seem to get along with each other, which is a great start.”
“That’s another area where we can teach from experience.”
“Mmm-hmm,” I hum in agreement.
Giorgio and Estelle already have two boys, the youngest only a few months other than Danielle and Max. Even though they live in Italy, they visit often, which Mona is ecstatic about, especially since there are now more little ones to spoil.
My parents have finally retired. I’m pretty sure the pregnancy convinced them they needed much more free time in their lives. A few weeks in the French Riviera several times a year is just the icing on top.
Theo found a girl who is just as quirky as he is, and they have a blast nerding out with one another.
“I think the most important thing is to enjoy these moments, especially when they’re peaceful. Pretty soon, they’ll be more verbal…and mobile, then the real trouble begins.”
“It’s a good thing sharks still swim while sleeping,” he says with a grin.
“Keep in mind, they’re the children of sharks,” I tease.
“Which means they’re already off to a good start.”
I sigh and lean my head on his shoulder, staring over at the twin bassinets. “It’ll be an adventure, that’s for sure.”
“And there’s no one I’d rather experience it with,” he says, kissing my forehead.
A cry erupts from the bassinet with pink bedding, loud and fierce. “I think that one is more of a lioness,” I say with a laugh.
A second cry comes from the other bassinet, bold and determined. “And there’s your wolf,” Magnus growls.
“Never a dull day in this zoo of ours, is there?” I say, laughing as I slide off the bed with him to see to this latest crisis.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says with a grin as he follows me.
Afterword
Thank you so much for reading The Monte Carlo Shark. I hope you enjoyed it.
To answer some questions you probably have:
1. YES, Richard Coleman will be getting his just desserts in the next book, The Spanish Pirate, coming April 2020 (Continue to end for an excerpt).
2. Whitney’s (from Her Icelandic Protector) friend, Jasmine, is getting her book The Armenian Saint in May 2020.
The Spanish Pirate (EXERPT)
The Spanish Pirate is next in the International Legacies Romance series.
COMING APRIL 2020
Below is an excerpt from the book.
* * *
I sensed something was off long before I noticed her swimming in the water past me. I’ve always been one to trust my intuition, and, as usual, I wasn’t wrong.
But that doesn’t answer the bigger question of who the hell she is.
This hidden island cove is supposed to be my secret. It isn’t visible from the other side of these cliffs. Even the opening allowing my boat access is hidden from the casual eye wandering past in the Mediterranean. If any of the sisters at the convent on the island knew about it, they sure as hell wouldn’t bother making the trek through the opening in the cliffs to get to this little bit of paradise, the one I discovered twenty years ago.
These days, I come here long enough to deposit whatever “booty” I’ve claimed from my latest pirating adventure, at least that which isn’t purely an electronic transfer. There’s something amusingly old-fashioned about having my own hidden treasure, one without any paper trail. The only map is in my head. Even my boat is devoid of any GPS or other mapping systems. If someone did manage to follow me here, they’d have a hell of a time discovering the cave where my treasure lies.
Until now.
She hasn’t answered my question asking who she is yet, so I repeat it, harsher this time.
“¿Quién eres?”
Instead of answering, she goes back to struggling. Something about that soft, bare ass and smooth, brown skin slithering against my naked front side allows Mother Nature to take its natural course. I grip tighter and lean down to talk into her ear.
“In case you haven’t noticed, you aren’t doing yourself any favors by struggling. Keep it up, and I may find another way to get answers from you, one that’s far more enjoyable—for me, at any rate. I doubt you’ll feel the same.”
Her struggling ceases long enough to listen to me. Then, she starts up again, this time, less like a slippery eel and more like an escape artist, testing my grip.
I’m no rapist, but I had hoped the threat of it would be enough to still this struggle. Maybe there’s som
ething lost in translation?
“Do you speak Spanish?” I hiss in English.
The fact that she’s gone perfectly still in response to that question doesn’t tell me much. Either it’s a reaction to me speaking English, or it’s the very pronounced dick, now hard and throbbing as it presses into her ass cheek.
She doesn’t look Spanish, at least not entirely. The bronze skin and thick, curly hair hint at some kind of mix. From what little I’ve glimpsed of her, it’s one that works well.
“I’ll take that as a yes to English?”
She still doesn’t move a muscle. Nor does she answer.
I shift my hand so that it cups one of her naked breasts, then I squeeze, just firmly enough to elicit a soft mewl from her. I take one of her nipples between my thumb and finger, pinching it lightly, causing it to harden.
Her mewling turns into a moan.
It has the effect of sending the blood rushing to my dick, causing it to press even harder into her ass. Hopefully, that will convince her, even if my words don’t.
“¡Dime! Tell me!” I order, using both languages for good measure.
She wriggles again, trying my patience to the point of anger. One of her arms escapes, and she points toward one of the small clearings by the water. I follow the direction of her arm and notice for the first time the clothes lying there.
Well, that answers one question.
So, she isn’t some mermaid, risen from the sea and transformed into a woman.
I take in enough from this distance to recognize the same cloth from my brief stint at the convent.
“¿Una monja? You’re a nun?”
There’s a slight pause before she nods her head in the affirmative. I’m not sure what the pause was for, but at least now I have an idea how she got here.
My eyes scan the cliff, finding that small opening near the top that the five-year-old me found once upon a time. I laugh as I consider the fact that one of the nuns managed to make it through that hole and down the cliffs.
To swim naked?
Her tragic mistake.
Instead of releasing her to recover her clothes, I push off the rocky bottom of the lagoon I’m standing on and swim her toward my boat. She’s too stunned to do more than squeak out a cry of surprise.
If she was under the impression that I’m a gentleman, she’s about to learn the truth.
I reach the steps at the stern of my boat and struggle to drag her up and into the small cabin below. There isn’t much beyond a bar, bathroom, and open space where a wide bed is situated.
I toss her completely naked onto the bed, happy to be rid of her, if only for a moment. She’s smaller than me but spirited. And fucking sexy, now that I have a better look at her.
I wait for her to scramble and cover herself with the sheets, even as I stand there fully naked with a half-erect dick.
She stares at it with a mixture of trepidation and…curiosity?
Maybe she really is a nun.
Who swims naked?
“So English or Español?” I ask once she seems somewhat settled.
She just stares at me for a moment, then brings one hand up to her lips and shakes her head, no.
I chuckle and shake my own head in disbelief. When I steady it to give her a hard stare, I decide on a different tactic. “Okay, just nod then. English?”
She pauses, her gaze flickering. Just when I’m about to switch to Spanish, she shrugs and nods.
“Good, that’s progress. Now, what the fuck were you doing in my lagoon…Sister?”
She straightens up, looking indignant. I already know I’m not going to get an answer.
Sure enough, no answer is forthcoming.
I walk over to a locked cabinet door and use my thumbprint to open it. I pull out a pair of handcuffs. It also holds a gun and other bits of “just in case” paraphernalia. I always travel prepared.
Her eyes go wide when she sees the cuffs, and she begins to scramble across the bed, taking the sheets with her. I take hold of one corner and whip it away, forcefully enough to rip it right out of her grip. While she sits there stunned at her sudden nudity, I grab hold of her ankle and drag her back toward me.
I reach out to wrest one hand away so I can slap one of the cuffs on it, then attach the other side to the handhold near the bed.
Now, the moans and whines of protest come. So she’s not mute. Which is something I can work with.
Because I plan on getting answers from her one way or another.
Starting with who she is.
* * *
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The Monte Carlo Shark: An International Legacies Romance Page 30
