Chased Beyond the Tide: Beyond The Tide

By N Dune

Since she was a teenager, Chloe's had one goal—to track down her sister's killer and bring him to justice.

Chloe never believed that her sister had run away, she knew that Leah had been killed, there is no way her sister would have left without a word. What Chloe hadn't planned for was falling in love with the emotionally shut off detective who was put in charge of re-opening her sister's case.

Marcus had always needed control in all areas of his life. He has no time for a relationship and no need for the feelings that Chloe was evoking deep inside him. But once she gets under his skin, all bets are off. Marcus thought he could control it. He thought he could protect her. He was wrong.

When their worlds are turned inside out, and all hope appears to be lost, will their love for one another persevere and heal them … or will it be too late?

Chased Beyond the Tide is the third and final book in the Beyond the Tide trilogy. This series needs to be read in order. Chased Beyond the Tide is a steamy romantic suspense book which contains violent scenes that may be a trigger for some readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: N Dune
• Release date: Aug 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223895541

Book preview

CHLOE

It's not easy being the girl who lost her sister. The stigma has been with me since I was fifteen. There were plenty of rumours running around back then. Some thought my sister had run away without a word and gone to live abroad. Others had already decided someone had killed her, and then some chose to believe that Leah had got mixed up in crime and was somewhere high on drugs or selling herself. It was difficult to determine which I hated the most. No one knew my sister as well as I did, she had always been my hero, and I'm not ashamed to say I worshipped her at that age.

Leah was ten years older than me, Mum, unfortunately, had many miscarriages between Leah and me, so they had given up trying after several years. To say I was a surprise is an understatement, and I guess I was spoilt, not just by my parents but by Leah too. She was like my second mother. That is until she discovered boys, then she wasn't around quite so much. Leah liked to party. She loved to dance and go out with her friends. Then she met Damon on a night out in Bristol; he was four years older than her. For her, it had been love at first sight, and they soon became utterly obsessed with each other. At that time, I was about twelve years old, and I couldn't understand why my big sister no longer had time for me or why she wanted to move out and live with this man.

She tried to stay in touch as much as she could, taking me out to the cinema or for food whenever Damon worked late, texting me almost every day with silly pictures or sage words of advice. It was because I knew her so well that I noticed when things started to change in their relationship. Whenever they came over, Damon put on an act in front of our parents. He never paid any attention to me. In fact, I don't remember him ever having a direct conversation with me. As he ignored me all of the time, I witnessed how he began to change, particularly when my parents weren't in the room. Leah's visits home became scarce, and her texts less frequent. I had guessed that the rushed messages she sent me were being deleted before Damon could see them. He wasn't happy unless he had all of Leah's time and attention.

The day she disappeared, Leah had managed to come back home. I think she had hoped that Mum or Dad would be around, but they were both at work. I hadn’t been home from school long when she rushed in. I asked if she was okay, and she replied ‘no,’ bursting into tears. There was bruising on her face, which she had obviously tried to hide with makeup, and I immediately knew Damon was responsible. My fifteen-year-old self was full of anger, and I had insisted she wait to tell our parents and go to the police. Only Leah was scared, even more so when Damon turned up outside our house and started yelling and banging on the door. I wish one of our parents had been at home as my words weren't adult enough or strong enough to stop her from going with him. She told me she was going to find a way to leave Damon, and I begged her to stay with me until our parents returned.

His banging got louder, and Leah began to worry that the neighbours would call the police. I had been relieved at the possibility, at least then he would be taken away. Damon would be out of our lives, and then I would get my sister back. But Leah left with him. She didn't want to make a scene and was hoping to calm Damon down. I guess I will never know what her plan was or even if she had one. For years I replayed that afternoon in my head, wondering if I could have done or said anything different. I even blamed my parents for not being around when Leah needed them. That last time I saw her, she squeezed me so tight and told me not to worry. Then the text had come through, saying Damon's mood hadn't improved and that they were arguing. It was a short text, and maybe she intended to type more. I will never know.

It had taken me two weeks to convince my parents and the police that something was wrong, that Leah wouldn't just stop calling or texting. I had told Mum and Dad about her visit, and they thought I was overreacting, dismissing me because I'd never liked Damon. Their words, not mine, but still true. However, when Leah didn't call or drop by on Mum's birthday, Dad tried calling her at work. Her boss informed him that she hadn't shown up for days. Then they started to believe me and finally went to the police. That smarmy bastard convinced the police that she had left him. He even went so far as to say that he was worried. Damon admitted to arguing with her, and the police established that she got out of his car. He said his efforts to find her had been fruitless, and he played the distressed boyfriend well. Leah was twenty-four at the time, an adult. I still remember the police saying there was no evidence of foul play and that she would undoubtedly be in touch with us.

Only she never got in touch. We never heard from her again. The stress of Leah's disappearance eventually drove a wedge in my parents' marriage, with Dad finding solace in another woman's arms by the end of that year. Then I was the girl whose sister disappeared and whose parents divorced. No one had a clue what to say to me, so most of the time, they didn't bother. All of this should have made me sink into the background, but I had a plan. One I only shared with my best mate, Raz.

I would find that bastard, and I would get justice for my sister.

Chloe, open the door. Marc's demanding tone breaks into my spiralling thoughts of the past. Just for a second there, I had forgotten I was on his boat and that I had shut myself in the guest room. I’d also forgotten the reason why. Sights and sounds return in a flash, bringing me back to the present. Back to the knowledge that my sister had inadvertently caused the car accident that killed Lou's dad.

Chloe! Marc bangs on the door. I look around the room that has been my home for the last few weeks whilst I tried to convince Marc to give us a go. I get off the bed and make my way to the door, unlocking it. I find an agitated man, his fist raised, about to hit the door again. God just looking at him does things to me that I didn't think were possible. Stupid body and its ridiculous physical reaction to this drop-dead gorgeous man. I berate myself silently, Don't you know that we are angry with him right now? I turn my back on him whilst I try and wrangle my hormones under control.

When were you going to tell me, Marc? I ask, hoping that my voice is imbued with enough anger, despite my body’s reaction to his presence.

Not just yet, he admits. That's one of the many things that attracted me to Marcus as soon as I met him. His no-nonsense attitude and the fact he has never treated me like a victim. He's all business, and therein lies the problem. He is under the misconception that not only am I too young to know my own mind but that I'm also too close to this case for him to get involved with me. You'd think that would put me off, that he's so unobtainable, but it doesn't. Oh no, my foolish heart won't let me give up on him, and the thing is, deep down, I don't think he wants me to—or that’s what I keep telling myself.

It’s an ongoing investigation, Chloe. I can’t just give you all the information despite you being involved in the case. He sounds frustrated, and I’m not sure if it’s because the information is well and truly out there or because I’m still involved with my sister's murder investigation. If he had his way, I would be tucked away in Bristol with Mum whilst he got on with the case. As I have reminded him countless times, there would be no case if I hadn’t got involved in the first place, and there is no way that I’m not seeing this through to the end. I will not rest until Damon is behind bars for what he did. And for what he continues to do if Mel’s death is anything to go by.

You saw Lou’s reaction, Chlo. I was trying to prevent that. I knew you would find out eventually, especially if Raz has anything to do with it. Marc starts pacing around the room like a caged tiger. He looks just as dangerous as one too, with his shirt crumpled and sleeves rolled up, revealing his muscular tattooed forearms. The top buttons of his shirt are undone as well, affording me the occasional glimpse of the tattoos on his chest as I track his movements with my eyes. He’s lost in his thoughts, which isn’t unusual, so I let him get on with it. Turning back to my task, I continue packing.

What are you doing? he asks, appearing to finally notice my activity. He stops moving, and I can tell he’s directly behind me from the heat infusing my body.

Exactly what it looks like I’m doing, Marc, I’m leaving. I’m sure you will be relieved. I feel a little immature for adding the last part, but hey, it’s not like he had encouraged me to stay, even if he hadn’t sent me packing when he realised I was here and not in Bristol. That day had been one of the two times he had shown any real emotion where I was concerned, but it had been enough to convince me that I’m not imagining this thing between us.

Sure, I’d cryptically told Lou and Tils that Marc would only hurt me if I let him. I guess I shouldn’t have said anything really, because he’s never once touched me in truth. I know of his preference for control; it comes out in everyday life all the time. There are also rumours around the precinct about his fondness for dominance in the bedroom, which Raz has delighted in giving me the full scoop on as he loves to gossip. My best mate since he moved to my school in year nine, Raz is an absolute pro with computers and my hacker when I needed information to track down Damon. Since I’ve become involved in Leah’s case, Raz has become more and more involved with the police. As he said, Better to help than get arrested. He always makes me laugh, and I could certainly do with his brand of humour right now.

Marc still hasn’t said anything, so I turn around to look at him. The conflict on his face spurs me on. I guess I’m asking for a fight. Anything other than having to feel this empty, painful pit inside my chest.

Cat got your tongue, Marc? I hate sounding like a spoilt bitch, but he really does bring the worst and the best out in me. He lets out an exasperated huff as his stormy-grey eyes bore into mine, trying to see right to my very soul. His intense gaze would make a lesser person shrink away, but I return it with what I hope is a steely look of my own. I see him flex his hands at his side, and I just know he’s itching to teach me a most delicious lesson for my sass, just like the heroes in the books I started to read. Oh, I’ve always read romance, but since meeting Marcus, I’ve wanted to know a bit more about the relationship between a more dominant man and a submissive woman. It’s not like you can go around asking people about it. Raz suggested that I try a different approach and recommended a couple of books his boyfriend liked reading.

It’s late, Chloe. You can’t leave now. At least wait until morning. Marc’s voice sounds calm, even if his body language betrays him. This is how he is, in complete control all the time. What I wouldn’t do to see him lose control—just once. I want to see what happens when this man finally decides to take what he wants. His words penetrate my anger and errant thoughts. I know he’s right, even if it infuriates me.

What if I don’t want to wait? I didn’t say I would let him know he was right, and yes, I’m not at all sensible at the moment. My mind is all over the place, whirring with all the information that has come to light over the last few months. Learning that my sister was tortured and murdered by Damon before being left to rot under a layer of earth beneath Lou’s dad’s coffin, has been the hardest thing to take. I hate to say I told you so, but I did. For years I told anyone who would listen that Leah wouldn’t have just left. She would have found a way to stay in touch. Even my mum and dad didn’t want to believe something terrible had happened to her. Now they have no choice but to accept it, and that in itself is taking a toll.

You still need to learn patience, don’t you, he says as he stalks towards me, looking every bit the dangerous man he is. I back up slightly, the back of my knees hitting the bed. The dominance in his voice should annoy me, but every time he speaks to me like that, I want to get on my knees and beg him to fuck me. Damn, I have it bad for this broody man. He stands in front of me, not even touching me, and I feel my breathing become erratic. The room is dimly lit by one lamp on the bedside table. He’s right, and it is dark outside now. It must be late. He hooks a finger under my chin, pulling my face up, so I’m looking up into his eyes. I hadn’t even realised I’d lowered my gaze with all the thoughts dancing across my brain. Is he going to kiss me? Marc is looking at my lips as though he wants to taste me. I stand stock-still, watching him watching me. He has schooled his features to mask what he is feeling, but his gaze is intense enough to start a fire. I know any second I’m going to fidget with self-consciousness. I feel like an elastic band pulled to the limit of its stretching capabilities. Any moment now, I’m going to snap. He knows it, I’m sure. He makes no move to come any closer, and I try with all the willpower I can muster not to lean into him.

Some things are worth the wait, he says cryptically, his voice low and deep, sending a pulse of need all the way to my core. Then without warning, he turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him with a click. I’m left standing there, desperately turned on with no way of releasing the pressure. The yacht’s walls are too thin, and even now, I can hear him getting undressed in the next room. I stomp off to the bathroom, allowing my anger to take over as it does a lot of the time lately. Once I’m back in my room, I move the suitcase off the bed and crawl under the covers for another night of restless sleep. The nightmares have been more frequent since we found Mel’s body. In my dreams, it’s not Mel I see lying in the surf being tossed about like a discarded rag doll—it’s Leah. Each morning I wake up in a pool of sweat with my sister’s screams ringing in my ears and tears pouring down my face. I take two of the herbal sleeping tablets Lou recommended and hope with all my heart that tonight will be different.

MARCUS

I chuckle to myself as I hear Chloe stomping around before she finally gets into bed. I really should know better than to poke that particular bear, but I can’t seem to help myself. She pushes all my buttons, testing my self-control until even I’m not sure if I’ll snap or not. Oh, I know what she wants, she’s made that perfectly clear, and even if she hadn’t, her best mate, Raz, has dropped some pretty obvious hints. As I explained to both of them on separate occasions, it’s not going to happen. Chloe may look older and even act more mature sometimes, but she is still only twenty-one. If our age difference wasn’t enough to deter me, the fact that she is embroiled in the case I’m working on certainly is. My work life has always remained separate from my private life, and that is the way I want to keep it.

Sure, I know there are rumours around work suggesting I’m the next Christian Grey. My mates have even bought into the fantasy if their comments are anything to go by. It’s not strictly true. Yes, I like to experiment and help the women I’m with explore their fantasies and push their boundaries. Letting them feel things that they sometimes weren’t even aware existed. However, I do not have a sex dungeon, as Jay and Con keep suggesting. I like to stay in control of every situation, and yes, that includes the bedroom. Maybe it’s a trust issue, or perhaps it’s the fact that I had very little say in how I lived my life for most of my childhood. Now that I’m an adult, I prefer to remain in control, and I see nothing wrong with that.

Chloe, now she’s something I wasn’t planning on. She’s feisty, upfront and goes after what she wants with an enthusiasm that I’ve not seen before. She thinks I don’t see the real her, that I don’t know that under that tough assured exterior is a hurt young woman who has never really gotten over her sister’s disappearance. I’ve done my homework, and I know all about Chloe Brayden, how she was an unexpected arrival in her family, how her sister doted on her until she started seeing Damon. I know that she was a quiet child, so much so that Damon never even paid attention to her being around, so as a young impressionable child, she witnessed her sister’s abuse at his hands. I know that she never once believed that Leah had abandoned her, which led to many fights as she went through the later years in school. From Raz, I’ve learnt how Chloe cut herself off from most people, only allowing a rare few to see her true self, the one that isn’t full of self-confidence and is still a little lost.

This is why I know just how hurt and confused she must be now. She had finally let Lou and Tils close to her, and their friendship, although brand new, had been beautiful to watch. The latest information is bound to affect Lou, who has herself been through the wringer these last few years. I have been in awe, watching just how strong my friend has been. If I think about it, Chloe reminds me a little of Lou when she was younger. Lou was always a little feisty and forward, knew exactly what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to get it. Unfortunately, Lou has changed, no doubt about it, but I see her old self emerging little by little every time I meet up with them again. I’m sure that with Jay’s love, she will be able to overcome even this latest hurdle, and I hope, given a bit of time, Lou will be able to continue her friendship with Chloe. I have a feeling they are going to need each other.

Lying here looking up at the ceiling, I let my thoughts wander to the woman in the next room. She unexpectedly turned up in Cornwall a couple of weeks ago. I thought that she was safe in Bristol, then I got a panicked phone call from Raz to say she had taken it upon herself to get the train down here. He knew that she had arrived because she’d texted him, but he hadn’t heard from her since. Raz makes me laugh; he’s like a mother hen where Chlo is concerned and probably with good reason. She is forever taking risks without first thinking about the consequences. One call to Jay confirmed what I suspected. They’d picked her up from the station and brought her home with them. He’d apologised for not letting me know but said it had been late, and Chloe hadn’t seemed all that keen on me finding out. No doubt she knew she would be in trouble with me for taking risks as I was already pissed at her for agreeing to take part in the re-enactment of Leah’s last hours. Putting herself in harm's way like that was unnecessary. I know why they chose her; Chloe’s likeness to her sister, especially after she insisted on dying her hair and wearing colour contacts, is uncanny. Thank God Damon was too drunk the night he took her back to his apartment for him to notice. Jesus, just thinking about what could have happened if he realised she was Leah’s sister makes me want to smash something.

Once I knew where Chloe was, I walked up the coastal path, hoping to regain some control over my emotions before seeing her. However, when I walked through the gate, and not one of them had noticed I was approaching, I could barely contain my anger at their disregard for their safety. They were lying about on the grass, with their T-shirts rolled up, or in Chloe’s case off. It was all I could do not to bellow at them for being so careless. Lou and Tils had fled into the house, but I knew they were watching as Chloe got up to face me, her T-shirt clutched in her hand. I remember growling at her to put it on, my lips barely moving as I gritted my teeth against the words that were trying to escape. Her stunning green eyes had flashed with defiance as she stood toe-to-toe with me, unwavering in her gaze. Deliberately slow, she had pulled it on over her head. Once she was dressed appropriately, I had towed her out of the garden onto the coastal path.

What the hell are you playing at, Chloe? I had finally managed to get my words out, but they still shook with anger and something else I wasn’t willing to address. She yanked her arm from my grasp and stood frozen right in the middle of the path, which was thankfully empty.

Since when has it been any of your business, Detective Crawley, what I do or do not choose to do during my summer break? she asked—and to be fair, she had a point. Only my overprotective self was unable to see it that way. The woman who stood in front of me was infuriating with her lack of self-regard.

You are putting yourself, Lou, and Tils at greater risk by being down here, Chloe. I tried to use a more gentle tone, hoping that I could break the indignation I saw written all over her face.

What on earth are you talking about, Marc? she asked me, looking confused.

Don’t you see? Your face has been all over the telly! Granted, you had contacts in and a different style of hair and clothes, but you still look like you do now. Damon has been in the area. If he saw you on the TV looking like Leah, then saw you here, what do you think he is likely to do? I turned looking out over the ocean, trying to get my emotions under control.

This is not a game, Chloe. He is seriously deranged. I wanted to add that she wasn’t safe here and that she needed to return to Bristol, but I didn’t. Part of me wanted her here—with me—to ensure she was safe, and another part of me knew that there was no guarantee that Bristol is safer.

I’m not going to stay hidden for the rest of my life, Marcus, and unlike you, I don’t run away when things start to get a little tough! She was agitated and poked me in the chest to emphasise her words. I went to stop her hand before she hurt herself, but she wasn’t done. Oh boy, when she blows, she blows. Where I choose to spend my time and who I spend it with is entirely up to me. She turned around as if to go back to Jay’s cottage. Well, I wasn’t letting that happen. So, I had grabbed her, wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her flush against my body.

I had known that was a mistake as soon as I felt her go rigid against me, but still, I continued holding her. At that point, I couldn’t remember why I was fighting the damn chemistry between us.

You’re staying with me. It’s safer than being here. Damon has no idea who I am, and he’s been watching Jay’s place. I had surprised myself a little with my words, but they felt right at the time. She had relaxed against me then, and we stood there for a few minutes, not saying anything.

All right, she said and that had been the end of it. Chloe has been staying with me ever since, and I’ve been pleasantly surprised with how much I’ve enjoyed having her around. Now she wants to leave, and part of me agrees it’s for the best, but another inner, selfish bastard wants her to stay here.

I must have drifted off, it’s still dark outside, and I instantly go on full alert, wondering what has woken me. It takes a few seconds, and then I hear the sounds coming from the next room. It sounds as though Chloe is having a nightmare. I debate with myself whether to go in there and check on her. This is not the first time she’s had a nightmare since being here. I haven’t asked her about them, but on several occasions, I’ve got up and gone into her room, trying not to wake her as I whisper that she’ll be okay. So far, she hasn’t woken up. Should I risk it again? I can’t have her getting the wrong idea if she wakes up and finds me in the room with her. Just as that thought comes to me, a scream has me bolting out of bed, taking the decision from my rational brain. I dash into her room to find her sitting up in bed sobbing.

The mattress dips underneath me as I sit next to her, gathering Chlo’s shaking body in my arms. I hold her tight and stroke her back as she continues to cry. I don’t know how long we sit there with her clinging to me like a life raft and me holding her closer than I should. Eventually, her grip on my T-shirt loosens, and she rests her hand against my chest over my heart. Sniffing a little, she leans back away from me, it’s difficult to see her features in the dim light coming from the open door, but I feel her searching my face.

Thank you, she sniffs, straightening up and pulling out of my arms. I’m sorry if I woke you up, she says, getting off the bed.

Do you need anything? I ask, feeling a little useless and unable to act on my body’s need to pull her close again.

No, it’s okay, I just need the loo. I must look an absolute mess. She leaves the room and enters the bathroom before I can reply to that. Then she pokes her head out of the door again, Maybe some water if you don’t mind? Chloe asks before closing the door again. Leaving me alone with a wet T-shirt and a thankfully unnoticed inappropriately timed hard-on.

CHLOE

Splashing cold water on my face, I hope to free my mind of the images still playing in the background. My body still tingles from Marc’s touch, and I fight the urge to run back in there and throw myself at him. I don’t know if he’s aware of just how much his holding me helped loosen the nightmare's grip upon