Jewel of Solana
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Smashwords
Audrey’s Promise
Royals of Solana Series
Prince of Solana
Jewel of Solana
Crown of Solana
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This book is a work of fiction. Therefore, all names, places, characters, and situations are a product of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Susan Sheehey
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever. For information address Y&R Publishing Rights Department, PO Box 2283, Lindale, TX 75771.
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Cover Design by Simply Defined Art
Book design by Champagne Formats
Printed in the United States of America
Library of Congress Control Number Data
Sheehey, Susan
Jewel of solana / Susan Sheehey.
Royalty—Romance—Fiction.2. Political—Suspense—Fiction.
Fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Romance / Contemporary. | Fiction / Romance / General.
2017
Second Edition.
ISBN: 978-1-940460-56-7
www.susansheehey.com
www.yandrpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Title Page
Books by Susan Sheehey
Copyright
Praise for Susan Sheehey
Other Novels by Susan Sheehey
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Epilogue
About the Author
Sneak Peak of Royals of Solana: Book Three
Praise for Susan Sheehey
“Jewel of Solana is a sexy thrill-ride. Sheehey’s vivid writing will make you feel the spray of the sea, the steamy, tropical air and the deep attraction between a princess and her unlikely savior.”
—Kimberly Packard, Award Winning Author of Phoenix
“Just when you didn’t think it could get better than the first book, it did! Sheehey is a master of melding romance, action and suspense! This book is a wild ride you will not regret!”
—C.A. Szarek, Best-selling Author of the Collision Force and King’s Riders series
“Thank you,” she breathed. “For coming back for me. You have no idea how much that means to me. There’s no point in hiding who I am any more. Not from you. Those men are after me because I’m—”
Flynn cupped her face and silenced her with a kiss. Everything around him stopped. No music, no bass beat, no dizzying panic. Just the soft cushion of her lips on his, and that delectable coconut taste. When he stopped, her cheeks were flushed. “I already know, Alanna. I would’ve returned for you anyway.”
Her smile lit up the room. She kissed him again, this time holding nothing back. With a flick of his tongue, she opened for him and pressed against him. Pain zinged through his bruise, but he didn’t care. Holding her was his medicine. His fingers slipped behind her neck, entwining in her hair. Everything turned hot. Her hands smoothed up his back under his shirt, his skin stinging where her fingernails dug into his shoulder blades. A sting he relished.
The double doors burst open. Alanna gasped.
A young Filipina with embellished black eyeliner and purple lipstick shoved past them, smirking in a sequined shirt. “Take it to a stall, face suckers.” She disappeared into the restrooms.
“You’re too precious for a place like this,” Flynn said, catching his breath.
Alanna wrapped her arms around his middle. Her cheek pressed into his chest. But she didn’t say anything.
“We need to get you some place safe tonight,” Flynn said.
“That would be wherever you are.”
Other Novels by Susan Sheehey
Audrey’s Promise
ROYALS OF SOLANA series
Prince of Solana
Jewel of Solana
Crown of Solana
To My Little Princes—Dreams Come True
To My Husband—My Heart’s Home
To My Family—For Your Love
Around my three princes, I feel like a Queen. I love you all so much.
MUD SQUISHED BETWEEN ALANNA’S TOES with every step. She slipped on the damp vegetation, scrambling up the hill in short-heeled sandals. Towering palm trees and banana leaves covered her escape from the semi-automatic rounds echoing behind her. The darkness of night was nothing to the spotlights around the Royal Palace, the only home she’d ever known. Now infested with a plague of mercenary soldiers.
Under normal circumstances, she could’ve traversed this hill a dozen times before breaking a sweat. Instead, her lungs refused to inflate, cinched by a rubber band of fear. Gunshots ripped through the breeze, rapid-fire like her racing heartbeat. Alanna ducked, but pushed forward through the underbrush, grappling at the bushes with her hands.
Fear wasn’t in her father’s vocabulary, and certainly not in his repertoire of royal facial expressions. Kings didn’t feel fear, let alone show it. Tonight, with wide eyes and pale skin, he’d drawn her against his chest. Then ordered her to run, his finals words tinged with regret,and goodbye.
Don’t look back.
Now everything in her world had fragmented.
Alanna’s knee hit the ground, mud soaking her champagne-colored linen pants. Dirt filled under her nails as she struggled to push herself up. She clutched at her collar, steadied by the smooth edges of the precious stones wrapped around her neck. The heavy reminder of her responsibility to get off the island.
“Te veré pronto, I’ll see you again, te veré pronto,” she chanted, her chest heaving and sweat dripping down her lower back. The humidity was as overpowering as th
e mixed scents of lily and hibiscus blossoms that grew wild all over the island. But it was the crashing waves on the beach on the other side of the hill that kept tugging her forward. The constant call to the salty-sweet water, her place of peace and ultimate salvation.
Go, go, go.
She pressed on, toward her closest friend and sailing companion who lived over the next rise. Rona and her father could get her away from Solana, this tiny island country snuggled in the South Pacific. Take her anywhere, away from the madmen now destroying everything she knew.
Twenty years old, and this was the first time in her life she didn’t have at least two royal guardsmen at her side, covering her every waking moment. The thought was almost as terrifying as the massacre she’d just escaped. Pierre and Mario had ducked her through the palace hallways dodging open-fire and ignoring the dead bodies around them. Solely focused on their one charge: to save the princess. They’d only had time to reach the royal vault in the basement to retrieve the crowning jewel of the South Pacific: Luna de Azul, the massive necklace of ammephire stones. More valuable than diamonds, ammephires were only found on Solana.
As they reached the head of the staircase, Pierre took a bullet in the back. She could still see his stunned eyes staring at her. When she tried to shout, Mario covered her mouth, and dragged her the rest of the way to the hidden tunnel through the kitchen pantry that led to the outer gardens. Most of the darkened tunnel was a blur, the terror-induced adrenaline blocking her mental capabilities. When Mario helped her climb up to the gardens, he stayed behind to cover their escape and urged her on without him. She’d been alone ever since. Alone and numb.
At the top of the hill she drew in a ragged breath, and dared to look toward the palace. Men in black camouflage surged over the expansive grounds, easily identifiable in the bright spotlights surrounding the pool and gardens. All looking for her. A giant fireball exploded in the air by the entrance of the Royal Square, lighting up the sky. Boats and yachts were set ablaze in the marina, orange fire and smoky plumes choking the normally picturesque view of the starry Pacific.
Alanna stifled the scream that wanted out. All her family, including her nephew, had been sleeping when the first explosions rattled the walls. Little Alejandro must have been so scared. She’d urged him to come with her, but he refused to unclench his mother’s side. She could only imagine the horror for an eleven-year-old still afraid of the dark. Before Alanna could reach him, the guards had extracted her from the room. A rocket careened from somewhere by the marina, and obliterated the royal guardsmen outpost by the gates.
“Te veré pronto,” she whispered again through tears as gunfire and shrieks filled the air. Racing down the hill, she went into autopilot and eventually found herself knocking on the back door of Rona’s house. In the glass, her reflection resembled little of a princess. Her face streaked with mud and tears. Her blouse and pants caked in dirt and sweat.
A man with a trimmed goatee and a full head of gray hair greeted her in the window. Señor Valera. Rona’s father had the most welcoming eyes she’d ever seen. The man had taught her to sail and scuba dive, and helped her discover a love for the sea beyond a pretty view from the balcony. The only commoner her father had trusted with his daughter’s life outside the palace, though she didn’t think of him as a commoner.
Señor Valera opened the sliding glass door and hurried her inside. “Your Highness, how did you escape?” He ushered her to the side room. Law dictated she be addressed by her title, but this man was like her uncle.
“Mario and Pierre,” she huffed. “But they…” Something caught her throat. “Wait—how did you know?”
“We heard the explosions, and I received a call on the satellite phone from the Head Royal Guardsman.”
“Why would they call you?”
He motioned her to the master bedroom.
“Dios mio! Are you hurt?” Rona dropped the small suitcase and rushed over, heedless of the mud and sweat as she threw her arms around Alanna. Rona was the closest thing she had to a sister. They looked alike in many ways. Both tiny, slender, with a shared love of the sea. They’d relied on each other when their mothers both passed around the same time. Alanna’s mother, the queen, from pancreatic cancer, and Rona’s mother from an infected cut she received on the coral reef while scuba diving.
“I’m okay,” she lied.
“Rona, niñita, get some spare clothes for Alanna. Quickly!” Señor Valera ordered, not bothering to hide his panic.
Rona dashed out of the room while her father moved to the closet. He yanked up several floorboards and opened a safe concealed underneath. Alanna’s mouth fell open at a large stash of cash, a cell phone, and several passports.
“I’m your contingency plan, Your Highness. We have to get you off the island, now.”
“But I don’t—”
“Forgive my interruption, but you must listen. Protocol is to get you to a secure U.S. consulate off island. This is your decoy passport, not listed on any royal guardsmen file. Your name is now Perina Alanna Kalani. Get used to it. At least until it’s safe to return.”
She took the passport, opening it to a photo from an informal portrait sitting last year. How did they get this?
“This is an untraceable burner phone,” he continued without giving her a chance to ask questions. “It’s a GSM, but you have to be on land for it to work. It’s useless at sea.”
Rona rushed into the room, a stack of clothes in her arms. She dropped a flat sandal and tripped over it.
“Para! Just stop!” Alanna ordered. “Who are these people? What do they want?” Tears built in her eyes.
Señor Valera set the bag of cash on the bed and held both her shoulders. “This is the Manila Cartel, without a doubt. The political war your father and the United States DEA have waged with the Lozanos over the last ten years has hit their drug distribution hard. They want Solana for its strategic position in the South Pacific, for the marina and airport. The largest one between Manila and Australia that is the least protected.”
“But what about all the meetings Father had with the U.S. Ambassador? The United Nations? Can’t they intervene?”
“I have no doubt that they will, but politics moves very slowly. We must keep you safe until then.”
The moisture behind her eyes dissipated instantly. “You mean keep me in the dark.”
“Your father and brother have done a tremendous service to the rest of the Pacific by fighting the Lozano family. But they knew it was dangerous and wanted to keep you safe.”
Alanna had seen the brutality of these men firsthand. After only one glimpse into the gruesome side of humanity, she never wished to see it again.
“How do you know all this?”
Señor Valera’s jaw tightened and his gaze turned apologetic. “Your father keeps me informed, despite my retirement.”
“Retirement?”
“Royal Guard. Medical discharge fifteen years ago.”
Alanna’s knees shook. He’s one of my father’s men?
She’d treasured the times she escaped to Rona’s house to go sailing, believing the few moments of peace from her security detail resulted from her father’s trust. She’d been able to breathe out on the water, independence a gift she’d relished. And the Royal Guard had been watching over her the whole time…like she was still a child. Her chest tightened at the lie. Betrayed—by both family and friend.
He gently squeezed her arm. “I was ordered not to say anything. For your protection, su Alteza.”
‘For your protection, Your Highness.’ Fat load of good it’s done now. Alanna moved to the bed and snatched the first blouse and pants her fingers touched. She retreated to the master bathroom and closed the door.
Ignoring Rona and her father’s muddled voices, Alanna crouched in the corner and sobbed into her knees. Royalty wasn’t supposed to show their feelings, or any sign of weakness, especially not tears. Her father had relentlessly pushed that lesson on both of her brothers. But now there
was no one here to scold her for it. So, she cried harder, until her nose dripped and her head pounded.
Finally, she stood and wiped her eyes. After peeling off the mud-covered clothes, she scrubbed her face with a towel and changed into Rona’s borrowed outfit. The two girls were the same size, thank heavens, and the comfortable yet functional cotton shirt hugged her small chest without restriction.
She kicked off the destroyed sandals and washed her feet in the bathtub. Wetting a towel and scrubbing her cheeks, she clasped the extravagant necklace around her neck, buttoning the blouse’s collar to conceal it from view. With a last glance in the mirror at her splotchy skin, she swallowed hard at the bulk of jewels and their meaning. Reminding her of the family she left behind. Not just her father, but the Crown Prince Tulio, and his wife and son.
Please, God, let them be safe. Let them have made it out.
If something happened to them… Her chest heaved at the thought. Who would be responsible for Solana? Would the crown pass to her, or André? Her eldest brother had been exiled eight years ago, and now lived abroad on their mother’s enormous trust fund. Could he come back? Would he even know of the massacre on their tiny island home?
She fumbled with the keys on the burner phone, calling Andre’s cell. He had to know what happened. Maybe he was close by. She could make her way to wherever he was. But the call went straight to his voicemail.
Mierde!
She dialed again, with the same disappointing result.
“What if they followed her here?” Rona’s hushed voice caught her attention. “They could come after us.”
“Which is why we have to get on the boat right now. Head out before they catch up,” her father answered.
Panic gripped Alanna. After the top of the hill, she hadn’t looked back to see if she was followed. Rona was right. They could’ve tracked her here. Alanna had no idea how to use a gun, besides have the guts to pull the trigger. There’s no way Señor Valera, even as experienced as he was, could defend them by himself. Not with an entire mercenary army raining down on them.