Seducing the Colonel's Daughter: Seducing the Colonel's DaughterThe Secret Soldier

by Jennifer Morey

  She kept grinding on him, close to reaching her prize. When he flicked his tongue on her nipples, she did. Lifting his hips, he began pounding her and she rode him until he joined her in their own creation of paradise.

  Putting her hands on his face, she kissed him softly. “You make me the happiest woman alive.”

  “I’m going to make you even happier once I have the painting.”

  Kissing him a few more times, she sat up and looked down at him, fretting over how he’d do that. “What are we going to do about Travis Todd?”

  “You forget we have something he doesn’t.”

  “What’s that, my fearless man?” She ran her hands up and then down his chest. Why she enjoyed doing that so much she had no idea. He wasn’t muscular. It was what lay beneath the chest, what lay behind the windows of his brown eyes and past his thin lips.

  “Habib.”

  Chapter 14

  All that was left to do now was wait for Lucian LeFevre to make his presence known. Travis didn’t think it would take long, and Raeleen agreed with him. She wished this was over and dreaded the inevitable confrontation.

  All four of them were lounging on the flybridge, soaking up the sun. To anyone passing by, it appeared they were a pair of couples on vacation. Left unseen were the tension between her and Travis and the real purpose of their trip.

  Travis lowered the binoculars again. He’d been watching Rorey’s yacht. They’d arranged for someone at the marina to check on Rorey, and the local police were now processing the scene. The police investigation would remain behind theirs until they had LeFevre under control and the danger no longer existed for someone to be killed.

  He walked past Raeleen, face toward her, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. When he sat on the bench beside Harry, she felt him continue to stare. She stared back. They were all in swimsuits, and his abdomen was nearly making her forget they were in public.

  I’ll just have to seduce you into more than that….

  What had he meant? Did he want more?

  * * *

  Travis’s phone rang. Raeleen sat up straighter on her lounge chair as he reached to the built-in table beside the bench and put the phone to his ear.

  “Habib.” He stood from the bench, alert and ready.

  Putting the phone on the fixed table at the end of the bench, he turned the speaker on.

  Raeleen didn’t have a good feeling about this. Why was Habib calling him again?

  “Mr. Todd. I did not expect to talk to you again so soon.”

  “Why are you?”

  “I have met with LeFevre once again. He came to my market to pick up his purchase. In the interim, he shared some more of his plans with me.”

  “He seems to share quite a bit.” And travel a lot.

  “He enjoys talking of this painting called The Portrait of Sarah. I do not understand it nor do I wish to. I am contacting you only to tell you that he is in Anguilla as we speak. He has discovered you are there.”

  “Thanks for the warning, but we expected that.”

  “I have no doubt of that. The diamonds he purchased from me. He is meeting with a man who will buy them. Tonight. I thought you would like to know.”

  “Here?” LeFevre was laundering money for his clients in Anguilla? Is that why he traveled to Monrovia? Out of convenience?

  Habib told him what time and the location.

  “When did he tell you?”

  “When he came for the diamonds. He was not pleased to have to go out of his way because of the painting. He mentioned his business with the diamonds in passing, in his annoyance. LeFevre has always felt at ease in discussing things with me. I believe that is because I am not connected to any of his business transactions, or so he has assumed.”

  And Habib felt obligated to help Travis.

  Travis met each of the other’s gazes, staying the longest on Raeleen. She shook her head. This smelled of deception. LeFevre was using Habib.

  Travis nodded. “You’ve been a big help, Habib. Thank you.”

  “There is no need to thank me.”

  Travis disconnected the call. “Harry, you stay here with Raeleen and Meena. I’ll go intercept LeFevre.”

  Raeleen shot to her feet. “No!”

  “It’s the only solution,” Harry said, essentially agreeing with him.

  “Call Odie back and tell her to send more men.”

  Travis approached her. “There isn’t enough time.”

  “Yes, there is. She could do it. She’s the almighty Odie.” Glancing self-consciously from him to Meena and Harry, Raeleen wondered if her worry stemmed from more than what was natural for any person facing such danger. And Travis was probably wondering the same.

  “We only have an hour. If it’s a setup, we can’t all be in one place,” Harry said.

  In other words, someone had to protect the women. And Travis would push to keep her out of his way, out of harm’s way.

  “Travis doesn’t work for TES because he’s incompetent,” Harry added.

  Right then, Raeleen realized the only way Travis would learn is by failing. He’d walk into a trap and no one else could stop him. She could, however, get away from Harry and follow him. She’d take one of Travis’s extra guns. If Travis was too blind to see what he was doing, she’d save him herself.

  He slid one of his hands around her waist and pulled her to him. “I do this for a living, many times alone. I’ll be fine.”

  “Travis...” How could she make him understand?

  “I’ll come back.” He moved his head and kissed her.

  She didn’t think he’d intended to—it was natural, automatic, and once it was done, he kissed her again.

  That was the way it was with them. One touch and a fireball went rolling through both of them.

  * * *

  Raeleen watched Travis leave the yacht, feeling like a wife watching her husband go off to war. She would follow him as soon as he started down the dock if Harry wasn’t standing guard.

  “Inside.”

  She stepped back and Harry closed and locked the door. Pretending to go along with this cockamamy plan, she turned and walked from one end of the salon to the other, acutely aware of Harry’s watchful eye. This was all because of Travis’s fear of failing. He should have at least taken Harry with him. Raeleen didn’t want to be worried about him, but she was.

  Going into the galley, she opened the utensil drawer and reached far back to retrieve Travis’s spare pistol she’d taken from his duffel bag right after the call from Habib. He and Harry had been busy talking contingency when she’d sneaked into his cabin. Meena had seen her go into the galley but she hadn’t seen her slip the weapon from her jean shorts and put it into the drawer.

  Hidden behind a pillar at the entrance of the galley, she tucked the gun once again into her shorts. Harry moved so that he could see her. She shut the drawer and walked back into the salon. He eyed her peculiarly but didn’t say anything.

  Now all she had to do was escape the yacht.

  Footsteps on the aft deck made her go still.

  “Is Travis back already?” Meena asked.

  Harry picked up his gun from the table. “Too many footsteps. You two go back into the stateroom.”

  Meena started toward the cabin, reaching for Raeleen.

  “I’ll stay here.” She had to get out of there and find Travis, but she couldn’t leave Harry to fend for himself.

  She slid out the pistol so Meena could see.

  “Meena, go!” Harry roared.

  She ran to the cabin.

  A shadow passed in front of the sliding glass door. Then another. Raeleen took shelter behind the side of a built-in entertainment center, the hall to her right. Harry went to the door.

  Glass s
hattered as someone threw a chair through the window. Harry ducked, covering his head to protect himself against flying glass. He ran to the side of the window.

  Raeleen fired when she saw someone holding a gun. There were two of them. They disappeared from sight.

  Harry left the salon after them and Raeleen followed.

  Outside, she saw him peer around the corner of the deck that ran the length of the starboard side. He glanced back at her.

  “Get inside!” he shouted.

  One of the men fired toward the stern, dinging the corner and missing Harry. Peeking down the starboard side, he fired once and then ran toward the bow.

  Going after him, Raeleen saw him jump up to the flybridge. There was another way into the yacht from there. Deciding to return to the stern and enter through the salon, Raeleen poked her head around the corner first and then entered.

  Meena’s feral screech and the sound of fighting came from the stateroom. Grunts of pain followed kicks and punches.

  Scared out of her mind, Raeleen made her way down the hall to the door of the cabin. She’d never done anything like this before. She knew how to use a gun because her father had taught her, but she’d never had to shoot at another person.

  Harry kicked one of the men off his feet as the second man pivoted with Meena on his back. The man fighting Harry sprang to his feet and the other slammed Meena against the wall, dislodging her from her catlike hold.

  Then he swung his gun to Harry and fired.

  Raeleen fired at the same time.

  Harry went down. Oh, no! He was shot!

  Raeleen fired again, sending the men scattering. The one who’d shot Harry grabbed Meena and put his gun to her head.

  “Drop it,” he ordered.

  Meena’s eyes were big and round and her mouth parted as she breathed rapidly. “Harry!”

  Raeleen dropped her gun.

  The man let Meena go and she scrambled to Harry’s side. The man’s partner picked up Raeleen’s gun and hauled her roughly into the stateroom, pushing her so that she fell onto the bed.

  “Any one of you tries to come through this door, you’re dead,” the man who’d held Meena said. After picking up Harry’s and Raeleen’s guns, he and his partner left the stateroom.

  They were being held captive. And Travis was in more danger than he realized.

  Apprehension mushroomed in her, along with an urgency to escape and find him.

  “Damn it!” Harry growled.

  “Harry!” Meena knelt beside him, weeping and checking his wound.

  He was bleeding pretty badly from his lower left side. If he didn’t get medical attention soon, he might not make it.

  * * *

  Travis walked toward a palm-roofed shelter used for private parties, sensing something amiss. He’d had that feeling ever since he left the yacht. The shelter was far enough away from the resort to offer privacy. No one was on this stretch of the beach, and there were no parties scheduled tonight. The beach was dark and deserted.

  Reaching the shelter, he approached the open doorway with stealthy silence, pistol ready and another in his boot.

  Lantern-style lights hanging from the wood-framed ceiling revealed a small bar in the back and four tall, round tables in the front. At one of them, Habib Maalouf sat with a gun on the table.

  Travis’s mind spun to add everything up. All the while he berated himself for not seeing this coming. Although Habib’s presence confused him, he’d always thought his help was out of place. Why had he turned to LeFevre? TES had saved him.

  “Mr. Travis Todd,” he said, not getting up. His fingers trailed along the gun handle.

  “What are you doing here?” He stepped toward him, glancing back at the door. No one else entered.

  Habib was alone.

  For now.

  He stopped at the table, greeted by Habib’s shrewd but vengeful satisfaction.

  “LeFevre invited me,” he explained.

  Too calm of an answer for Travis’s comfort. LeFevre was one of his customers. Whose side was he on?

  LeFevre’s. But why?

  He began to figure it out himself. “What happened after Farid Abi Salloum and his son were killed?” Travis asked.

  The satisfaction left Habib’s eyes in a flash. Anger replaced it. “What did your organization expect me to do? I was forced to engage in business with Salloum and his men. And then I was forced to engage in your organization’s quest to kill what you Americans call terrorists. Who are the terrorists when you cause the same kind of destruction with your righteous brutality?”

  “Habib...I don’t understand. What happened? What went wrong?”

  Habib slammed his palm down onto the dirty table. “Your organization has cost me more than I can bear. When Lucian LeFevre told me of the kidnapping of a renowned American colonel’s daughter and showed me a photograph of the man who was sent to rescue her, I could not believe my fortune.” He stood and walked around the table to stand before Travis. “At last I am able to avenge my wife.”

  “Your wife?”

  “You killed her.”

  His wife had been killed? “I didn’t kill your wife.”

  “Your organization killed her. Colonel Roth and his crusade against terrorism killed her. What you do not see is the fallout of your tyranny. Well, I intend to make you see it now.”

  Travis felt sympathy for his loss but none for his lack of objectivity. “Why haven’t you come to us before this? We could have helped you.”

  “You could bring my wife back?” He leaned closer. “She is dead because of you.”

  “Habib, I was shot on that mission. I had nothing to do with it.”

  “You led Salloum’s men to me. When your organization killed him, there was great rage against me.”

  “The man who killed Salloum didn’t work for us. He was a mercenary.”

  “You led Salloum’s men to me. And in retaliation for helping you, his men executed my wife. My only love in this life. The mother of my children. Do you know what it is like to have something so precious taken from you? To have what Allah has given you ripped away from your grasp?”

  There would be no reasoning with him when he was so irrational. “I didn’t kill your wife.”

  “Unfortunately, you are to become a message to Colonel Roth. An example. A lesson for how he operates in the future.”

  Travis cocked his pistol and put it against the middle of Habib’s forehead.

  Habib didn’t flinch.

  “Are you finished, Mr. Maalouf?” a French accented voice said.

  Right now, Travis felt a lot like he had when he and Haley were being followed in Monrovia. He could also hear Raeleen say, I told you so. He feared failing with her in the line of fire, but she wasn’t safe without him. Now she wasn’t here and he had no way of protecting her.

  “Yes,” Habib finally answered.

  “Good. Now let us be on with our business.”

  Travis lowered his gun and turned. Only Lucian LeFevre stood there. He didn’t have to be told why neither Habib nor LeFevre needed a weapon.

  They had Raeleen. Harry and Meena, too.

  “You have twenty-four hours to bring me the painting,” LeFevre said.

  * * *

  Meena tried to stop Harry from getting to his feet, but he pushed her aside with surprising strength, retrieving a knife from his boot.

  At the other side of the bed, he lifted a small suitcase and opened it with one arm, holding his side with the other. He handed Raeleen a pistol and tucked another in his pants. LeFevre’s henchmen hadn’t thought to look in his luggage.

  “Cover me,” he said to her.

  “I will.”

  When he put his back to the wall on one side, she stood to the other, aiming for
the hall. He looked at her and she nodded. He pushed the door open so it drifted halfway. With a quick check, he saw one of the men at the end of the hall. He threw the knife and it stuck in the man’s chest.

  The second man stormed down the hall with a gun raised.

  Raeleen aimed and then shut her eyes and fired. When she opened them, the man lay on the ground. Harry moved clumsily out into the hall. At the end, he leaned against the wall, having difficulty breathing.

  “You should stay here.” Raeleen turned to Meena. “Call for help.”

  Meena nodded.

  “No!” Harry took hold of her arm to stop her, but his exertion cost him.

  “Don’t forget who my father is,” she told him, easily escaping his grasp and leaping over the two bodies to get to the glass doors.

  She might have deviated into a popular dining show, but she hadn’t forgotten everything her father had taught her. What she had forgotten, she realized just then, was that he had spent a lot of time with her doing so. Those were good memories, peppered in with his long absences. Well into her early twenties, up until she’d graduated from college and began her television career. His absences had grown so tiresome. She’d grown tired of missing him, so she’d stopped fighting to see him. That’s when the resentment had settled in.

  All the way to the beach where Habib had told Travis to go, she thought of that.

  Seeing two cars parked down the street from a beach resort, one of them with a woman inside, Raeleen drove her rented car past and saw Jada looking through the palm trees. She parked in front of the resort and hurried through the open lobby to the back. Passing the pool, she made her way to the beach.

  When she saw the outbuilding Habib had described, she slowed, her tennis shoes sinking into the soft sand. There was no one here. She was too late.

  She stopped, rising panic descending on her.

  Why had Jada been waiting in the car? Just as she began to turn, she heard someone come up behind her. Jada. The woman swung a palm branch at her.

  Raeleen blocked it and leaned almost horizontal to plant a kick against Jada’s midsection. The woman went airborne for a second before landing on the sand with a grunt.