Seducing the Colonel's Daughter: Seducing the Colonel's DaughterThe Secret Soldier
Page 14
Shopping...
She didn’t have her purse or her phone or her car keys. What was she going to do?
Panic set in. Why had her father driven ahead of her? Why had he left her behind? Was he even looking for her?
She was lost….
“Raeleen.” Someone gently shook her shoulder.
Was it the man on the train? He seemed to be trying to change her focus to the sights around them.
“Raeleen.”
Coherency settled upon her and she realized she’d just had a dream. A strange one that a dream expert would probably say meant she was having issues with her father. Not being able to catch up to him. Not knowing where she was or if he’d find her.
She looked over her shoulder and saw Travis up on one elbow.
“You were having a bad dream.”
“I was dreaming about my father.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get that figured out eventually.” His thumb caressed her shoulder through her T-shirt.
He meant her father. What a sweet thing to say. Despite her calling him a pet soldier, he still cared that she’d had a bad dream about her father.
“Meena said some things that must have gotten me thinking.”
“What did she say?”
“That I should cherish the moments I have with him instead of being angry and resentful that I don’t see him as often as I wish.”
“Good advice.”
“In the dream, he didn’t wait for me and I couldn’t find him.”
“Maybe that means you should stop trying.”
She’d given up trying to get her father’s attention a long time ago. Now she resented him for that.
“It was just a dream.” But the dream hung over her, dampening her spirit.
Travis was lying close to her, his body curved along her backside. Now there was a protrusion growing where it shouldn’t.
“Travis...? You have a...”
“You’re making me that way.”
All she’d done was have a bad dream. Light from the kitchen dimly illuminated the living room. She could see enough of his eyes to gauge their warming in tune with her own.
At some point during the night, he’d removed his clothes down to his boxers and gotten under the covers with her. He’d waited until she’d fallen asleep.
Her T-shirt had hiked up to her hips. The idea alone tossed caution aside and infused her with molten need.
With his elbow still on the bed, he hooked her head between his forearm and biceps and kissed her.
He slid his other hand down her hip, catching the waistband of her underwear and tugging them to her knees. Raeleen shimmied out of them and he pushed his underwear down enough to free his erection.
He kissed her again, rubbing his soft-skinned, bare hardness against her. Sliding his knee between her legs, the tip of him probed and sank into her.
Raeleen struggled to keep her breathing quiet, fearing they’d be heard. But it wasn’t enough to stop this delicious stimulation. It was also good that she was on the Pill if this kept happening.
With his palm on her abdomen, he held her as he moved back and forth. In three of those mind-blowing strokes, he made her come, kissing her as she tried to stifle a sound.
Shoving the covers off them, he climbed on top of her.
“What if someone...?”
He spread her legs and plowed into her. The expensive sofa didn’t even squeak. Meena was her new best friend.
Pushing her T-shirt up, he mouthed her breasts before resuming his thrusts, rising up by his arms. The wet friction stirred her to a new peak. She bit her lip with the second, stronger orgasm. Travis grunted and moved faster. With one final thrust, he collapsed onto her, his face beside hers. He kissed her softly on her cheek and then tenderly on her mouth. She ran her fingers up his back and down again, touching his butt before gliding over the firm muscles of his back once more.
“I wish you wouldn’t have had that dream,” he murmured.
He must be as confused as she. How good it was between them...
“We can’t sleep in the same bed without this happening.”
Harry and Meena’s bedroom door opened. The sofa bed was out of sight, but if anyone walked down the hall they’d see them like this, her legs open and Travis between them, her shirt rumpled around her neck and her breasts mashed against Travis’s chest, his bare butt, underwear around his ankles. The only thing left to the imagination was his penis still lodged inside her.
Travis pulled out of her and jerked the covers over them, curling beside her. Quickly adjusting her T-shirt, she rolled to her side so her back was to the room. The bathroom light switched on and then the door closed.
“Do you think they heard us?”
“No. You weren’t that loud.”
“You grunted.”
“If they heard us, they wouldn’t have come out into the hallway.”
“Not until we finished...”
“Shh. Close your eyes.”
She closed them as the toilet flushed. The water ran and then the door opened. Either Harry or Meena walked through the living room, clearly trying to be quiet.
The refrigerator opened and Harry or Meena poured something into a glass. The refrigerator closed and the person walked back through the living room.
When the bedroom door closed, Raeleen relaxed. That’s when she realized whoever had gotten up had seen her lying with Travis this way, with his arm over her waist and her head tucked on his shoulder.
“It was Harry.”
Harry had seen them sleeping like this.
* * *
The next morning, Travis pretended not to notice Raeleen emerge from the bathroom where she’d taken all the sheets from their bed to put them in the wash. Was she cleansing herself from the memory or concealing evidence?
Meena handed her a cup of steaming coffee. “You can sleep over anytime.”
If only she knew the real reason Raeleen had washed the sheets. He’d like to know himself.
“I’m betting you will,” Harry said from across the kitchen table.
Travis turned to him with a scowl. Was it something he saw in him or something in Raeleen that had him thinking they were a couple already? He didn’t want to know.
“We should get going.” He stood.
“Yeah,” Raeleen agreed, putting the cup down on the table.
“Seriously, Travis.” Meena approached him. “Don’t let years go by before we see you again.”
“Let us know when the wedding is,” Harry cajoled.
Enough was enough. “There isn’t going to be one.” Raeleen and her annoying trouble with her father would see to that. Damn it. Why had he allowed them to have sex again? He may have thought he could do casual with her, but now he wasn’t so sure. He couldn’t remember ever feeling hotter for a woman, or if the sex had ever been better. It was like no other woman compared to her. What that meant worried him.
“Something on your mind?”
Travis looked at Harry. “Yeah, a painting that’s going to attract killers.” He shook Harry’s hand. “I’ll call you.”
“Soon,” Harry said, searching Travis’s face. He knew something was up. In a lower tone, he said, “She’s a nice girl, Travis.”
“A nice girl who’s not into military men.”
Harry glanced over at Raeleen, who was busy talking to Meena about her show. “That’s not what I saw.”
It was rare when Travis felt uncomfortable, but he did now. Harry hadn’t seen them making love, but he’d seen the aftereffect of it. The way Travis had held her and the way she’d lain so close to him.
“Thank you both for everything.” Raeleen hugged Meena and then moved to Harry.
“Don’t thank us
. You’re always welcome here.” He hugged her while Meena rose up on her toes to do the same with Travis.
He handed Raeleen the tube containing the painting, slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and then lifted her small luggage. Finally he had her outside in the bright New York morning. The tension in him began to ease. A little. He still had to deal with Raeleen.
“Harry heard us.”
He looked at her. “No, he didn’t. He saw the way I was holding you and now his retired, romantic ass is delusional.”
He checked up and down the street. Deet was bound to be around somewhere. He’d seen him on the way to Harry and Meena’s. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have agreed to stay the night here.
A white Ford Taurus was parked down the street and there was a man inside. Predictable. What kind of trouble had Deet gotten himself into? It was long past the time when he found out.
“Is that...?”
“Get in.” He guided her to the passenger door with his hand on her lower back, scanning the street for anyone more dangerous than Deet. There was no one. Just as he
planned. Good.
He got into the car.
“You knew he was here, didn’t you?”
“He’s a lousy tail.” Travis turned the car around and drove along the cobblestone street, watching Deet follow in the rearview mirror.
“Is that why you wanted to leave last night? Do you think the people who are after the painting followed him?”
He didn’t respond. After he was a safe distance from Harry and Meena’s, he began to slow the car. He would have stopped, but Deet drew a gun and stuck it out his window.
He was going to shoot at them. A desperate man resorting to desperate measures.
“Get down!”
“Wh—”
Shattering safety glass made her duck as Travis sped the vehicle up and then slammed on the brakes. He had to stop him. Now.
Deet hit their rear end and then swerved, crashing into a parked car. Travis jumped out of the car, pistol aimed at Deet while he regained his equilibrium. Deet wasn’t going anywhere now. Nowhere except with them. He strode toward the driver’s door.
“Please, don’t shoot!” Deet dropped his gun to the pavement and held his hands up so that Travis could see them.
“Get out.” Travis picked up the gun and tucked it into his pants, glancing around as he opened the car door.
A man peered through the window of a flower shop, a cell phone to his ear. Seeing Travis, he moved out of sight. A car drove by, the driver not noticing anything. He had a few minutes at best before the police arrived.
Deet kept his hands up and Travis gave him a shove to get him moving toward the other car. He did as he was told. Travis almost took pity on him. He was so far out of his league it was a miracle he’d survived this long without help.
At the other vehicle, Travis patted him down, checking for any other weapons. Finding none, he let him sit on the backseat.
Travis bent down to look in the car at him. “Try anything and you’re a dead man.”
“What are you going to do?”
“More than you can.” Travis sat behind the wheel beneath Raeleen’s wide-open gaze.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“Go somewhere we can talk.” He drove down the street and turned a corner.
“You’re making a mistake. You should give me the painting and forget it ever existed.”
And leave Deet to handle a black-market art dealer all alone? Hardly. Travis ignored him as he drove into a small parking area underneath an overpass that ran along the water. It was just off the South Street Seaport, and the overpass provided good cover. The road wasn’t heavily traveled at this hour of morning.
“What are you doing?” Raeleen asked as Travis opened the back door.
When Deet didn’t get out, Travis grabbed his shirt and dragged him out. Deet found his footing and stood next to the car.
Raeleen rushed around the trunk and stood beside them, looking apprehensive.
“Tell us everything.” Travis kept his pistol tucked into his jeans. He didn’t think he’d need it.
Moistening his lips and then swallowing, Deet glanced at Raeleen uncertainly.
“It’s the only way,” she told him. “Tell us. Travis will be able to help.”
Deet reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He’d probably lacked a lot of sleep over the past few days.
“They killed my wife and brother-in-law.”
“Who?” Raeleen asked.
“Start from the beginning,” Travis redirected him. He wanted the whole story. “Tell us everything.”
Defeat weighed in his eyes before he nodded. “About a month ago, I found an art dealer who said he could sell Vivian’s painting. Discretion was important. Vivian was against me selling it, but I could see no other way to save my restaurant. I had to do something. That restaurant has been in my family for generations.”
“You were going to sell it without her consent?” Travis had to be sure.
“Yes, but this dealer promised anonymity. He told me he had a private buyer, one who’d keep the painting for herself and not reveal its history. I didn’t love Vivian, but I respected her wish to protect her grandfather’s name.” He turned to Raeleen. “Just before you came to do your new show, my dealer began to get threatening phone calls. He said he’d pay me for the painting.”
“And you refused,” Raeleen said.
“When my dealer told him we already had a buyer, he said he was the only buyer we were going to deal with from then on. I didn’t know what to do. Vivian would be devastated if her painting fell into the wrong hands and I knew nothing about this new buyer except that he seemed illegitimate. So I mailed the painting to you to be safe. I planned to come to the States with you, but Vivian was waiting for us...and then... Oh, God.” He broke down into sobs, covering his face and leaning over a little. “This has gotten out of control. What I hoped would save my restaurant has turned into a run for my life. If I don’t give this man the painting...”
“What is your dealer’s name?” Raeleen asked.
“Rorey Evertszen.”
“Have you spoken to him recently?” Travis asked.
Deet shook his head. “After the hurricane, he told me he was leaving Anguilla.”
And then the new buyer had come after Deet. Travis wondered what had happened to the art dealer. Had he left Anguilla as he’d claimed?
“Who is the new buyer?” That was who must have killed Vivian and John.
“I don’t know.”
Travis cocked his head in disbelief. Surely he had to know. “Haven’t you been in contact with them? How much did they offer you for the painting?”
“They offered my dealer more than his buyer was going to pay, but I refused, remember.”
And now they were just going to kill him to get it. “Who are they? Who is the one who made the offer?”
“I swear I don’t know. He never revealed his name, and Rorey never told me. Four men chased me once. They must have been hired by the man who calls me with threats.”
When Travis took a menacing step toward him, Raeleen stopped him with her hand on his arm. “He’s telling the truth. He doesn’t know.”
How could he not know? Why wouldn’t his dealer tell him? Then Travis took in the man. He’d been on the run since his wife and brother-in-law had been killed.
“Did your dealer ever tell you the name of his private buyer?”
He shook his head. “He only said she was an art collector. Discretion was important.”
“Fantastic.” Once glance at Raeleen confirmed she believed him.
Deet was in a lot of danger. Lucky for him, he’d done the right thing by sending the painting to Raeleen.
“They’ll find me. They searched Raeleen’s apartment. That means they know I sent her the painting. If they find me they’re going to kill me.”
“They definitely know where you are right now. And they’ll know what happened to the painting. I’ll make sure of that.”
“But—”
“Give me your cell phone.”
Perplexed, Deet did as he demanded.
Travis checked the phone and after a few minutes navigating through its programs, found evidence of the tracking software someone had installed.
He put the phone into his shirt pocket. “Now it’s me they’re going to find.”
Chapter 10
Habib had finished inventorying his stock when he heard the front bell ring, signifying someone had entered his market. He took his clipboard with him, seeing Lucian LeFevre standing at the entrance, waiting. It had been a few days since he’d seen him. Putting the clipboard down on the front counter, he went to lock the front door and close the plastic blinds that were so hard to keep clean.
“Sorry I am late,” Lucian said.
“Come, come.” Habib did not care why he was late. He had the rest of his diamonds.
In the back of his market where a small room served as his dual-purpose office, Habib found a key on his key ring and unlocked his safe.
“Did you have any trouble?” Lucian asked.
That was another way of asking if anyone had grown suspicious of his impatient buyer. “No. All as usual.” Since he’d severed his Hezbollah ties, he’d found another mine from which to purchase his rough diamonds. Word of mouth had spread of his business and he’d accumulated an assortment of buyers and dealers. Removing a metal box from the safe, he put it down on the computer table and began separating Lucian’s purchase.
He enjoyed this part of his life. His market brought in an adequate income. With his wife gone, he had no one else here in Monrovia. Many times he considered selling his market and retiring, but Lebanon was not an area he considered good for retirement. Neither was Monrovia, but alas, these were his dilemmas, dilemmas that no longer mattered so much now that his wife was dead. He could return to Lebanon, but he still had enemies there. He was relatively safe here in Monrovia. Better that than having to look over his shoulder.