Phantom Series Boxed Set (106 page)

“Meaning?” she asked, suddenly shaking inside.

Rafe kissed her forehead, then held her closer. “I still mourn Irika, but until tonight, I never truly let her go. I had not opened my heart to you, and I nearly cost you your life.”

She snuggled against his chest, once again hypnotized by the amazing sound of his heart, which seemed to beat a bit faster than it had on the beach. He slid his hands up her back and into her hair, tilting her head.

Unlike any other kiss they’d shared, this one was filled with promise. His lips were soft, but his tongue was not. He made love to her mouth so thoroughly, she experienced a weakness in her limbs that might have pulled her to the floor if he hadn’t held her steady.

And for the first time in her life, she didn’t mind leaning on a man for support. Rafe offered his strength with no strings, no expectations. He wanted nothing from her but her love.

He had that in abundance from now until eternity. She whimpered when he broke the kiss.

“We should check on Paschal. If he’s strong enough, Ben advises that you and I retreat upstairs with him before the authorities arrive. He said something about my not having ‘proper identification.’ “

Mariah grimaced. “Yeah, that can be a problem with law enforcement types. I’d bundle up the sword, too. Wouldn’t be good for anyone if that baby is taken as evidence.”

She moved away, her hand still hooked with his, until she realized he hadn’t moved. When she turned, she found him gazing up at the mosaic again, not with longing in his eyes, but with curiosity.

“What?” she asked.

“This mosaic is not right,” he replied. “It has struck me as odd since we first entered this room.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said, surprised.

“Yes, of course, but I feel …” He took a step back. “Emotions. Many more than I can take in, but mostly … hope. My friends. My family. It’s as if …”

He retrieved a chair from the dining table and dragged it to the fireplace so he could reach up to the community fire that sparkled in the center of the tiled village. The moment his fingers brushed over the tiny red slivers, Mariah felt his body seize up. Though she’d braced her hand against his back as he’d climbed up, a bright blast of power sent him flying to the floor, unconscious.

***

“Rafe. Rafe, please. I didn’t go through all this to lose you now. Besides, you sort of have a lot of people waiting for you. Rafe, please wake up.”

Mariah’s voice drifted into his consciousness, and it took him a long moment to figure out what she’d said. He could feel her hair brushing against his face, and when he forced his eyes open, he saw that she was cradling his head on her lap.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Since you passed out? Quite a bit,” she said with a smile.

He had the sense of being surrounded by many people. The jingle of jewelry and the crackle of boots against the stone floor echoed all around. Voices suddenly broke into his consciousness, many of them talking in the Romani dialect he had not heard for centuries.

Pushing up to a sitting position, he saw dozens of Gypsies roaming about the great hall. Most were hugging one another in celebration, swinging children in their arms, attempting to venture into the rest of the castle, though they were blocked in the room by Ben, Cat and Paxton, who looked utterly and entirely shocked.

He opened his mouth to ask who all these people were, but suddenly he knew.

They were the Gypsies of Valoren.

He moved to stand, and Mariah helped.

“Looks like you and your brothers weren’t the only ones caught in Rogan’s curse,” she said.

“Curse?” repeated a deep, wizened voice from behind him.

Rafe turned and saw a man shuffling toward him, his gray hair and quick brown eyes instantly recognizable. Rafe gave a little bow in deference to the
Chovihano
. Irika’s father. His mentor in the shaman arts of the Romani.

His people were alive.

“Belthezor,” he said in greeting.

The
Chovihano
reached out both hands, took Rafe’s and gave Mariah what amounted to a disapproving glare. Rafe wasn’t surprised that Mariah did not quail, but hooked her hands possessively around Rafe’s arm.

“Who is this woman? Where is Irika?”

“Where did you come from?” Rafe asked, not anxious to break the news of Irika’s death to her father so soon after his reappearance.

“Rogan saved us,” the older man insisted.

“Saved?” Mariah and Rafe asked in unison.

He cast Mariah another spiteful glare. “Yes,
saved
. We received word from the governor’s messenger that an army was advancing to the village to reclaim the king’s land. I was moving the villagers to the caves when Rogan and Sarina begged us to come to the castle. Rogan spoke an ancient spell, and suddenly we were trapped within the tiles. That’s the last I remember, until you touched the center fire tonight with so much love in your heart for us.” The old man’s face brightened in a gentle smile. “You freed us, Rafe. You freed your people. You freed your son.”

Rafe staggered as the
Chovihano
reached behind him and unbuckled the bundle he was wearing on his back. Inside, Stefan dozed, unaware of and unconcerned with the celebration of freedom kicking up around him.

Mariah gasped. Rafe’s knees nearly buckled as he looked on the slumbering face of his infant son. He took the child and pushed away the swaddling, freeing his tiny limbs. The baby whined in protest, but did not wake. Rafe cradled him against his chest, fighting the instinct to squeeze him too hard.

Through clouded eyes, he watched Mariah take Belthezor to a quiet corner away from the crowd. The
Chovihano
frowned, but followed. Rafe found the chair he’d dragged from the table and sat in front of the empty fireplace, relearning his son’s face. His ink-dark hair. His round cheeks. His thick fingers, which curled under his dimpled chin as he slept.

Only the sound of Belthezor’s grief ripped his gaze away from his son. He was immediately surrounded by family and friends, and Mariah soon slipped away and returned to Rafe. She knelt at his side. His love for her grew exponentially as he realized she’d taken on the difficult task of telling Belthezor about his daughter’s death.

“He needs to mourn her,” Mariah said. “But he’ll be okay. He has his grandson, right? A piece of her.”

She gazed at the baby with an expression that was halfway between fear and wonderment—the same exact expression he’d seen on Irika’s face when she had looked on Stefan for the first time.

“Wow,” she said.

“I could never have imagined,” he said, brushing his hand over his son’s warm cheek. “I thought I had won the greatest gift of good fortune when I reunited with my brother and fell in love with you. I never thought I could have my son back.”

“We’re going to have a heck of a time explaining all this to the authorities,” Mariah said, but the sardonic tone of her voice was softened when she reached out and swept a lock of Stefan’s hair off his forehead. “But we’ll figure something out. He’s beautiful, Rafe. I guess we both got more than we bargained for tonight.”

Rafe’s heart clenched in his chest. He loved Mariah with all his soul and knew she felt the same for him, but they’d never discussed the future.

“Does this change how you feel?” he asked.

“What?” She looked up, her eyes wide, but glossy. “The instant family? Automatic motherhood? I’m probably going to screw him up terribly. It’s not like I had much of a role model. But luckily,” she said, her voice rising an octave and taking on a singsong tone, “we have something in this century called
psy-cho-anal-y-sis
.”

The baby squirmed in Rafe’s arms. Rafe had no idea what Mariah was talking about, yet again, but he knew his son would be in good hands with her. She was, if nothing else, incredibly resourceful.

Suddenly she laughed. “Isn’t my mother going to be shocked when I go home to Australia with not only a husband, but a child? That’s what she gets for making nice with me. Instant grandmotherhood.”

Rafe’s heart soared at the thought that Mariah wanted to marry him, and though he suspected she did not require a traditional proposal, he would make one just the same. Soon. There was so much to consider. So much to comprehend. That fact that she loved him and adored his son made all the rest insignificant.

Mariah slid one hand onto his shoulder and, with the other, caressed Stefan’s pudgy arm. When the baby curled his fingers around hers, she gasped, then cooed. He could feel her apprehension, but her love was more powerful. Now that she’d opened the doors to the emotion, he suspected. her capacity for it would build to an immeasurable store. For both of them.

In the next half hour, Belthezor returned and, still mourning the loss of his daughter, took Stefan and guided the villagers upstairs while the authorities investigated the deaths of the men on the beach.

But, as the sun rose, Rafe could not resist venturing outdoors. Basking in the sunlight from a balcony overlooking the sea, he allowed the sunlight to warm his face for the first time in two hundred and sixty years.

“The coast guard is at the lagoon,” Mariah warned, though she joined him outside and tilted her beautiful face toward the bright morning sky. “We should stay inside until they’re gone. I promise you’ll have a thousand more mornings of sunshine to enjoy once we put all this behind us.”

Rafe was almost afraid to believe that circumstances had turned out as they had. In the rush of rounding up the Gypsies, mourning with his family for Irika and cuddling with his son, he’d been unable to fully understand something the
Chovihano
had said. He had not had a chance to discuss it with Mariah until now.

“He said Rogan saved them,” he said.

She bit her lip. “Maybe Rogan wasn’t as evil as you thought. Because of him, the Gypsies are alive—and so are you. And your son. All ready to start new lives.”

“I have absolutely no idea what to do with this new life,” he admitted.

Mariah slid her arms around his neck and kissed him long and leisurely, making sure she touched every single part of his mouth with her tongue and every part of his soul with her love. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

He held her tightly, lifting her in the jubilation of all he’d gained on account of Rogan’s curse. He now had a woman to love again, his child returned and his Gypsy family restored, as well as part of his
gadje
one. What more could a man want? What more did a man deserve?

“This could not have been the future you foresaw for yourself when you stole that stone from Valoren,” he said as Mariah led him to the grand staircase, a twinkle of desire lighting her amber eyes.

“It’s exactly what I foresaw,” she insisted. “I am a treasure hunter. And you, sir, are the greatest treasure a woman could ever find.”

************

Afterword

Thank you so much for purchasing a copy of the Phantom Series Collection! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I think you can tell that the possibilities for further books remain—what has happened to Gemma as a result of her final act? Where does Paschal fall in this whole mix? Where are the final two brothers and is Serena still alive somewhere, trapped? And of course, was Lord Rogan truly as evil as Damon, Aiden and Rafe first believed? I would love to answer those questions…and I will, if enough readers are interested.

One way to express your interest is by writing a review of this collection or the individual books and posting them at Amazon. Word of mouth is so helpful! The review doesn’t have to be long or detailed…just a short, honest assessment of what you’ve read is worth its weight in gold! You can leave a review by clicking this link.

Also, I have gone over these books with a fine-toothed comb. They were edited and proofread extensively in both their original publication and in the re-release, but if you caught an error or typo that somehow slipped through and that you believe I should address, please send me a note via my email,
[email protected]
.

Other Works by Julie Leto

In addition to sexy paranormal romances, New York Times bestselling author, Julie Leto, also writes a one-of-a-kind sexy suspense series starring a kick-ass ex-bounty hunter with a particular love of sex, lies and lethal weapons…

Dirty Little Secrets

(Sexy Suspense)

Sex, lies and lethal weapons…

PRAISE FOR
DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS
…

“Stephanie Who? Readers looking for a genuine and credible bad-ass kick-butt heroine may want to check this book out.”

~ Mrs. Giggles

“Readers who love a great kickass heroine, propulsive action and plenty of steam shouldn’t miss Dirty Little Secrets.”

~ Leigh Thomas, All About Romance

“Get out the ice and set your fans on high! Julie Leto’s Dirty Little Secrets will set you on fire the minute you pick up this steamy, high-speed book of love, action, and adventure.”

~ Anne Lum, Writer’s Unlimited

OVERVIEW:

— A disgraced bounty hunter pursues her sexy ex.

— The secret agent on the run catapults her into his treacherous underworld.