Barefoot With a Stranger (Barefoot Bay Undercover Book 2) (39 page)
Read Barefoot With a Stranger (Barefoot Bay Undercover Book 2) Online
Authors: Roxanne St. Claire
Not beautiful, maybe not even conventionally pretty, but…
No, damn it. No.
Gabe closed his eyes and put his drink down on the table with enough force to splash some scotch. “Fuck this. I’m not in the mood for Christmas Eve. Give my regards to Nino.”
“Gabe—”
But he marched over the sand, making good time, but not good enough. Mal’s hand landed on his arm.
“I don’t want to—”
“Gabe, I have something from Isadora.”
Something else? That rosary with his son’s name engraved on it wasn’t painful enough? But when he looked down and saw a familiar pale blue slip of paper, his heart slipped sideways.
“I found it in the Country Club when I nabbed that gun. I haven’t read it, but I know it’s from Isadora to you. I didn’t know if I should give it to you or—”
Gabe grabbed it, tore it from Mal’s fingers like it was a bone and he was a starving dog. “It’s mine,” he said.
“I know, I know, but I didn’t want to make things worse until you—”
“Leave me alone. Just…leave me alone.” Gabe started to walk away, then glanced down at the paper, the fake starlight highlighting the words.
Gabriel, my angel.
Every cell in his body ached to devour her words, but he turned to Mal, whose face reflected the pain in Gabe’s chest.
“Hey, man. Thanks,” Gabe said, mustering up a smile. “Thanks for what you did in Cuba. And thanks for loving my sister. And thanks for…knowing how important this is.” He held up the paper and took a few steps in retreat. “Merry Christmas.”
Mal nodded, and Gabe walked slowly away from the party, as far along the beach as he could go but still have ambient light from the fake stars. Sitting on the cool sand, he opened the note with surprisingly steady hands and brought it to his nose first, the familiar peppery scent transporting him to another beach, another time, another life.
Gabriel, my angel.
He closed his eyes for a moment, not at all sure he could take this. But he had to take it. He had to read one last message from the only women he’d ever love.
I don’t know for certain if you’ll ever get this letter, but it is the only way I can communicate with you now.
Now? He stared at the words, then looked up to the moon-washed bay, hearing her distinct voice, always soft and sexy no matter which of the ten or twelve languages she spoke fluently rolled off her lips. She could say
I love you
so many different ways, but he’d never gotten tired of hearing it. Although, her natural, flat, Midwestern-toned English was his favorite.
He forced himself to look down and continue, not wanting this last shred of a connection with Isadora to be over too soon.
You will be told that I’m dead. I am not.
And in that instant, the world stopped spinning. And he stopped breathing. Blinking and taking a shaky inhale, he continued to read.
You will be told our son died when he was less than two years old. He did not. I am under deep cover and so is he. I promise you will understand when I explain it to you.
Someday, when I can see you again.
What
? He forced himself not to howl.
She was still alive?
And their son? They had proof of her death! And a grave marker of a child. What the hell did this mean?
Vaguely aware that his body was strung as taut as a wire, he shook his arms and cleared his head before reading on.
Gabriel, wait for me. Promise me you will wait for me. It might be years, but the very moment I am free, I will find you, I will come to you, and I will tell you everything. But I give you my word, on our love, that I am
not
dead. And neither is Rafe, who is a carbon copy of you in every way.
Rafe
. Deep inside his gut, everything hardened. And froze. And made him sick. Was this real? A joke? Ancient history or…a reason to live?
No matter what, my darling angel Gabriel, wait for me. I will come to you as soon as I can. When that day comes, you may not question me. You may not doubt me. And you may not recognize me.
Isadora
The sound of a cleared throat yanked him back to reality and spiked his blood pressure. He turned to see the blonde making her way across the beach, a look of determination on sharp, angular features, her defined jaw lifted as if to say she dared him to send her away.
Ballsy bitch.
But it was Christmas Eve, so rather than be a prick, he just looked down at the letter and hoped she had the brains and class to see he wasn’t in the market for a quickie.
“Gabriel.”
Son of a bitch, she knew his name. He slammed the letter on the sand as two bare feet with bright red toes planted themselves next to him. “Look, lady, I—”
“Like the angel.”
That wasn’t an English accent. That was…natural, flat, and Midwestern.
His blood turned to ice and drained from his head into a cold pool of disbelief in his gut. He was hearing things again. She didn’t even remotely resemble Isadora. She was taller, leaner,
colder
. Blond-haired and brown-eyed, no chestnut curls and grass-green eyes.
Gabe looked up, completely off-balance and almost unable to breathe again, but when he did, another whiff of her fragrance tortured him. “Do I know you?” he asked.
She just gave him a Mona Lisa smile that said everything…and nothing.
He started to push up, but she held out her hand to stop him, opened it, and dropped a hotel card key in his lap.
Without a word, she walked away.
He sat there in stunned, speechless silence until his gaze dropped to the letter on his lap.
When that day comes, you may not question me. You may not doubt me. And you may not recognize me.
What did she mean by that? He couldn’t acknowledge her…or he literally couldn’t recognize her?
How the hell was he supposed to know her then? He stood, peering into the darkness to see the blonde’s shadow disappear in the direction of the villa called Rockrose.
Everything spun out of control, making his head light with hope that she lived…and fear that his imagination was working overtime.
Who was she? A shameless stranger who wanted his body? Or the woman he loved?
Maybe she could be both.
* * *
Watch for Gabriel Rossi’s unforgettable love story…
Barefoot with a Bad Boy
Coming in early 2016!
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Books Set in Barefoot Bay
The Barefoot Bay Billionaires
Secrets on the Sand
(ALWAYS FREE!)
The Barefoot Bay Brides
Barefoot in White
(ALWAYS FREE!)
Barefoot Bay Undercover
Barefoot Bound
(prequel)
Barefoot with a Stranger
Barefoot with a Bad Boy
Acknowledgments
I received some special help on this fictional side trip to Cuba!
Muchas gracias
to Michel Mendez (and his beautiful wife, Eileen) who assisted me with first-hand knowledge of Cuba, including the geography and layout of Cairabién and the
municipal
. And huge writer-sister hugs to Maria Geraci, who patiently vetted every word of Spanish. (Read her books—they are fantastic!!)
As always, major props to the whole team of professionals who work with me on every book. In addition to my amazing editor, Kristi Yanta, I’m corrected by a brilliant copyeditor, Joyce Lamb; dressed by a talented cover artist, Kim Killion; perfected by a detail-oriented formatter, Amy Atwell; and supported by a tireless assistant, Maria Connor. And, of course, I’m loved by a street team beyond compare. (Join the Rocki Roadies on Facebook if you enjoy my books! We have a blast and they get secret scenes and book info!)
Lastly, love and gratitude to my family, most especially my dear husband, Rich, who helps with the details on cooking and airplanes and guns because he’s my personal Renaissance Man.
About the Author
Published since 2003,
Roxanne St. Claire
is a
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author of more than forty romance and suspense novels. She has written several popular series, including Barefoot Bay, the Guardian Angelinos, and the Bullet Catchers.
In addition to being a six-time nominee and one-time winner of the prestigious RITA™ Award for the best in romance writing, Roxanne’s novels have won the National Reader’s Choice Award for best romantic suspense three times, as well as the Daphne du Maurier Award, the HOLT Medallion, the Maggie, Booksellers Best, Book Buyers Best, the Award of Excellence, and many others.
She lives in Florida with her husband, and still attempts to run the lives of her teenage daughter and 20-something son. She loves dogs, books, chocolate, and wine, but not always in that order.
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Barefoot with a Stranger
Copyright © 2015 South Street Publishing
ISBN: 978-0-9908607-4-7
This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
All rights to reproduction of this work are reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission from the copyright owner. Thank you for respecting the copyright. For permission or information on foreign, audio, or other rights, contact the author, [email protected]
COVER ART: The Killion Group, Inc.
DIGITAL FORMATTING: Author E.M.S.
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