Billionaire Romance: MAXIMILIAN (An Alpha Bad Boy Contemporary Mystery Romance) (Mysterious Billionaires Book 3, Anthologies & Collections) (72 page)

Not that it made me want to go and down a bottle of Jack afterward, but it did make me go and jump on my horse and go riding for a couple of hours. I mounted up my favorite mare and rode her hard under the dusty gray winter sky until the both of us were sweating bullets and panting. My brain was a complete blank as I stared down at the long dirt road that leads from the Ironwood Highway to the ranch. I mostly had my eye on a pack of javelinas rooting around in the brush, gnawing on juniper and hoping to stick their snouts in a nest of termites, when all of a sudden I saw a cloud of yellow dust coming up the road. As far as I knew, none of the boys from the bunkhouse had headed into town today, so whoever was coming up the road so fast probably wasn't someone I wanted around. I kicked my mare and headed back to the house at top speed so I could meet whoever was speeding up my road before they hit the main drive.

I made it to the house just as the Border Patrol truck pulled up in front of the house, and I was greeted by a face I hadn't seen since Inez's troubles over a year ago, my older brother Sam, and his face was covered in blood.

                                                                                    ***

There are certain things you swear to yourself you'll never do again when you become an ex-soldier. Most of the time they're promises that you know you'll be able to easily keep. Me, when I came back from Iraq, I promised myself two things: I would never take another human life, and I would never pick up my sniper rifle again. I broke my first promise when I had to deal with the coyotes who were chasing after Inez. After that, the killing stopped because Sam knew the crackers who were after her and he laid down the law.

I broke my second promise tonight because of the people who my brother led to my home.

If these men had been strictly chasing Sam, there’s a better chance than not I would’ve told him to go fuck himself, that he’d made his own bed and now he needed to lie in it. But these men, they weren’t after Henry—they were after his girlfriend.

“She’s in the witness protection program, and they finally tracked her down.”

Obviously, my big brother hadn’t been aware until very recently, perhaps only a few minutes ago, that she was in WITSEC. His voice was so full of heartbreak and bitterness that I almost wanted to pull him into my arms and give him a hug, which is something I’ve never done with Sam. But instead of a hug, I locked him, his girlfriend, and Inez in my safe room and I dug out my Armalite AR-50 and my night vision goggles.

Then I waited up on the hillside above the house until those cocky sons of bitches began creeping towards the house from the brush, and watched as each and every single one of their heads turned into pink mist.

Chapter 7:
Sam, Apache Junction, Arizona—Two Months Later

Sam supposed he should be happy. After all, his little brother was getting married to the love of his life today. Over the last two months, Sam had realized how special that was, and how damn lucky his brother and Inez were to have found one another. Yeah, he should have been happy, but he wasn’t, because today was also the day he would be losing the love of his life.

After today, Angela would be gone forever and they’d never see one another again. If he was the type of man who cried, there’s a better chance than not he would be curled in a ball in some dark corner weeping his eyes out. But he wasn’t that kind of man. He hadn’t even cried when his old man was killed, so he sure as hell wasn’t going to shed a tear over Angela. At least he knew she would be safe and out of harm’s way, at least for a little while.

He did feel lucky that they had had the last two months together. After they were finally able to get ahold of her handler’s boss—her handler, Agent Kelly, had been captured and tortured by the Russians, which is how they were able to track her down—the Feds decided it was probably a lot safer for her to be with Sam and Henry on the ranch. True enough, they lived on edge the entire time, but after the number Henry did on the dozen mobsters he put down with his rifle, they figured she’d be just as safe with them as anywhere else. Plus, the FBI was keeping a tighter eye on her than ever.

In those two months, Sam and Angela had really gotten to know each other. Not the happy facades they’d presented to one another over the last six months, but their real selves, warts and all. She let him get to know the money launderer and mistress, and he let her get to know the smuggler, the wheeler and dealer, the crooked cop, and neither one of them seemed to mind the other’s past mistakes. Because they were, after all, mistakes. For a time, he played with the idea of going into WITSEC with her, but he knew that he could never pretend to be someone else; he was who he was, and there was no changing that.

He felt a light touch on his arm and he turned and faced the woman who would soon be gone from his life. She gave him a small, sad smile, her eyes shinny with recent tears.

“They’re ready,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.

He gently kissed her, mentally saying his goodbyes, and then they went to their seats.

Epilogue:
Henry

I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my whole life. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve experienced more than my fair share of nerves over the years, but this is practically unbearable. As I stand in front of the alter with my older brother at my side, I feel myself starting to pass out. But Sam steadies me, pats me on the back, and gives me a smile.

Just as I feel like I’m going to pass out again, the wedding march begins, and I see Inez for the first time in her wedding dress. And at that moment, I know that everything is right in the world, and I’m the luckiest SOB walking the planet.

Scotland, the side of a mountain.

Spring, 1763. Noon.

Visibly annoyed, Elizabeth couldn’t help but stare out the window of her coach.

“Can this carriage not go any faster?” She lifted her head upward as she spoke to the coachman.

“Not here, it can’t! This isn’t England, milady!” The man answered without giving her as much as a glance. The beautiful Elizabeth wasn’t used to not being stared at, but this time it was a welcome change of pace.

“These are the highlands of Scotland! We’ll be lucky if we get anywhere without losing a wheel or tipping over!” He spoke again, as if spurred by her silence.

“Well, that is just marvelous! For the money I’m paying you, you should find a way to work around it!” She said, now observing the scenery rather than the man. The surrounding mountains appeared beyond harsh, yet possessed a rough kind of beauty. The kind of beauty she didn’t know existed up until then.
Too bad the coachman isn’t half as amusing.

“And the amount of money you’ve offered is the sole reason I even took this job, milady! Besides, I wouldn’t worry about speed as much as safety out here!”

Safety?
“Just what are you referring to?” She asked, her gaze turned back toward him now.

“The highland is a dangerous place, love! And when I say that, I mean more than the scenery!”

“Be more specific, please! The natives? Local wildlife? What?” She could feel her fingernails bite into her palms as she spoke.
This man is beginning to annoy me.

“All that, and more, I’m, afraid! Otherwise, people would’ve jumped at the chance of transporting you over the border! Have you ever thought about that, milady?” Hints of a smile could be detected in the man’s voice.

“Oh, I’ve thought about a great many things, good sir. Enough to make me undertake this trip, after all. You think I’ve made this decision lightly?”

“Indeed I do. But what do I know? I am just a coachman after all, milady. And respectfully, no matter how much thought you’ve given this, it couldn’t possibly have been enough. There’s the rest of the world, and then there’s Scotland. In my own experience, the two don’t mix.
At all.
”

“I see,” was all she could say after a few moments of contemplation.

“Say, would you mind sharing your reason for coming here, milady?” He interrupted the silence.

“As a matter of fact I would, if you do not mind. It is my business, and it would please me if you stayed out of it,” she replied in an annoyed tone.
He may know his trade, but I do not like this man one bit.

“Too bad. Sorry to bother you, then. Must be one hell of a tale!”

“You are forgiven. Just do not do it again, please,” she said as she retreated into her cabin, pulling her long blue sleeve behind her so it doesn’t stay outside. The scenery was indeed breathtaking, but the man had reminded her of unwholesome things, and she felt like being by herself.
A hell of a tale, he says.
She laughed grimly.
Perhaps it is. For me, it was more ‘hell’ that tale, though.

It was only two days ago that she had made the fateful decision. Her lands, title, even the money that by all accounts should have been hers; she would leave it all behind and flee into the unknown. Everyone else would kill a chance to be in her shoes.
Me, I would rather kill myself than do what was expected of me.

She sighed, pulled out a mirror from the large purse to her side, and observed her reflection. A beautiful, heart-shaped face. A pair of sizeable, almond-shaped eyes parted by a small nose. Beneath it all, full, sensual lips the color of natural red. And finally, that beautiful visage was crowned by a full head of waist-length blond curls. Everything worked in tandem with her sky-blue dress, producing a figure of angelic, feminine beauty.
Yet it all amounts to nothing,
she mirthlessly said, placing her mirror back in its place.
It matters not at all when I am to be married to that… that fop!
She found the word difficult to articulate, even within her mind. She had heard of the expression in the past, but didn’t know full well what it meant. Until she met her betrothed, that is.

Painfully thin and weak of chin (albeit his nose more than compensated), the young William Guilford had to use generous amounts of make-up and expensive clothing in order to make himself appear presentable.
And it didn’t help him all that much.
What little he said, Elizabeth wished that he hadn’t, and his body language was painful to watch.
I know that you are rich and come from a great family, William! No need to stick it my face like that!
Even though the prospect now lay behind her, she couldn’t help but get angry. Once again, she buried her fingernails into her palms.

I had no other choice,
she thought as she conjured up the memory of herself stealing a hefty amount of money from her mother’s room while the woman was in one of her stupors. She had no idea how to do it, but one thing was certain: for as long as she remained in England, she would not be free.
Where there is civilization, there are Cornwalls,
her father would always say. She took it to heart. Scotland was supposedly a wild land, populated by unkempt savages, or at least so she was taught.
Let us see you find me here, in the highlands!
she taught as she smiled in her coach, her mind back in the present.

Still, perhaps I should have taken a hint and reconsidered this…
She remembered how less than keen the coachmen for hire were, even after she had unfastened her bag and shown them her pounds.
Only the man up there wanted to take me, and even he had been reluctant.
For a while, she stared at the floor like that, lost in her own thoughts.

Oh, well. What’s done is done!
she reminded herself of the finality of her decision. She was well on route toward the
closest highland city
, as she had told the man. He had told her that it was a place called
Oban
. There was no turning back.

She laid herself back, feeling liberated. There was no way to tell what was going to happen next, but she was free. Free from William and from the gilded cage her family had prepared for her.
Who knows? With the amount of money I’ve… borrowed, I might be able to create a good life for myself,
she reassured herself.
And with that thought, she drifted into a light sleep.

Later?

Being less than comfortable, and light of sleep as well, it didn’t take much for Elizabeth to be roused from her slumber. The coachman was yelling something, although she couldn’t quite make out what it was.
Does he not see that I do not wish to be disturbed?
She sluggishly stuck her head out the window, preparing herself to reprimand him. When she saw what was happening outside, she immediately wished that she hadn’t.

Oh, by the Lord, no!
she silently exclaimed. The carriage was suddenly surrounded by several dozen men that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Muscled, hairy, and adorned in wear that she had never seen before, they did not seem pleased to see these interlopers.
Are those… skirts?
The coachman tightened his rears in an attempt to make the horses stomp over the first two men that were in his way. He was about to say something too, when an arrow pierced through his neck and stayed there.

Faced with his imminent death, the man quickly lost control of his carriage, and instead of continuing onward, the horses changed direction instead. Now shocked back into consciousness, Elizabeth pulled her head back inside and grabbed the edges of the window, preparing herself for an imminent crash. Rumbling, crackling and tumbling, the coach jumped and trembled underneath her.
This is it! I am going to fall down a ledge!
She gritted her teeth, trying to persuade herself that she had made her choice, and that there was no room for regrets. It did not work at all, and she could feel her whole body shiver in response.

Then, after a good deal of rattling, the carriage abruptly stopped. The force of the halt had propelled her forward, and only a timely interception of both her hands had prevented her from breaking her nose when she hit the seat on the other side.
Has the coach fallen into a small ditch, then?
The thought was comforting, but the idea of being surrounded by barbarians was far less so.
What are they going to do to me?
She bit the inside of her lip, causing it to bleed just a little bit. Footsteps could be heard from the outside, a clear indication that the wild men had no intention whatsoever of leaving her be.
Perhaps there may be room for regrets yet…

A shadow went over her window, apparently belonging to a man who was not quite close enough to stick his head inside and look. A moment later another one followed.
Someone will look inside any moment now.
The image of her coachman being shot through the throat showed up in her mind, and continued repeating again and again.
Is that what they are going to do to me? Or is it going to be… worse?
She could feel her heart pounding faster. Her breathing would have increased in pace as well, had she remembered to do it at all.

“Top of the day tae ye, lassie!” A voice could be heard, right from the outside of her window. It was masculine and powerful, yet melodic in a strange way. She had never heard a Scotsman speak before, and the way he rolled his R’s would have sounded comical to her, were she not in her dire situation. Having been completely overtaken by instinct, she did not reply. Instead, Elizabeth sat on the floor of the coach, pressed her back on one side, and hugged her knees with both arms. She had no plan, and by all accounts, had consigned herself to her fate.
Whatever that might be…

“Are ye going tae step out? I dinnae wish tae drag such a bonnie lassie out by th’hair!” The man spoke again.

The Lord help me.
She made herself rise, and felt that she did not shake as much as she expected to.
This man’s voice, wild though it might be, does seem to calm me somewhat.
She grabbed the side of her window again, and started to pull herself out. Almost momentarily, a pair of strong, hirsute hands grabbed her by the waist and pulled her out effortlessly.
Just what is he trying to do?
she asked herself as the man lifted her up, but as she found herself staring into the man’s green eyes, she found herself unable to do anything else.

He was beyond handsome, although in an unusually rough way. His face was strong, with a week-old red beard. His hair was of the same shade, albeit significantly longer. His body rippled with bulging muscles, and nearly every inch of it was covered in thin, fiery hair. He wore one of those skirt-things, yet it was amazing how it did not detract from his appearance.

“Now, is it nae better out here?” He asked as he put her down on what passed for ground in this wayward country. It was uneven and rough, and she was certain that would have cut into her feet was she not wearing her shoes.

“Who are you and what are you going to do to me?” She asked, unable to comprehend just how disrespectful her tone had made her sound.

“That isnae the way tae speak to th’Laird! Show proper respect, or I’ll chop off yer tits n’ slap ye with ‘em!” One of the men exclaimed from the side. The man who had pulled her out of the coach did not say a word. Instead, he stared at her with a mixture of amusement and… something
else
.

Oh, Lord… he hasn’t taken a liking to me, has he?
She had undertaken her journey to
escape
from a man, not to leap into the hands of another.
Despite how strong those hands might be.
She shook the thought from her head, causing another bemused reaction from the man.

“Since ye asked nicely, I’ll indulge ye. This man we’ve shot through th’neck was a regular blackguard. Works with one of ‘em ransom-asking clans way up north. If we dinnae stop him, he’d have sold ye to them the way one’d sell a hen!” The men laughed at his remark, and he smiled as he talked.

Elizabeth was so shocked she had to cover her mouth with her hand.
So, those were his intentions… I was a fool.
Then, having composed herself, she again took a posture that denoted her excellent breeding. “Then I am afraid that I have misjudged you, good sirs. Thank you so much for your assistance!” She took a polite bow as she spoke. The men did not seem impressed.

“Why, would ye look at that! We’ve got ourselves a proper English lass here! Tell me, lassie, dae ye perform tricks?” Another man spoke with a mixture of curiosity and outright disdain. Most of the others laughed. The man who had pulled Elizabeth from the carriage did not.

“That’ll be enough of that! We’ve a long way back home, and I dae not intent to waste it here! Move!” He announced as he directed a disapproving stare toward every present party, Elizabeth included. What little safety she could feel due to the way he looked at her had evaporated that very instant.

“Sir? What about me?” She forced herself into asking. The way everyone looked at her made her wish that she hadn’t.