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

by Jennifer Morey

  She tried to hide the field book but feared it was already too late.

  “Excuse me, Ms. O’Clery!” the reporter shouted, hurrying toward her. “Whose house is this?”

  Sabine reached her Jeep and climbed in.

  “Did you meet your rescuer here?”

  She turned a glare on the reporter and shut the Jeep door.

  Revving the engine, she squealed the tires racing away. The reporter didn’t try to follow. A few minutes later, she drove onto Wilcox Street in Castle Rock, just off I-25, and found the brick building her father had rented. Parking, she noticed a dark green Civic in front of the building, one she’d seen parked outside her bookstore more than once, or one like it. No, it was the same one. It had a dented front left bumper and fender and a cracked windshield. She hesitated before walking toward the darkly tinted glass windows and doors of Noah’s new office.

  Noah opened the door before she got there, his face tense with lines of frustration. “Where have you been?” he demanded.

  She entered the building, not liking the fatherly concern she heard in his voice. The sound of remodeling under way echoed, banged and buzzed. A man with pitted skin and dark eyes leaned idly against a wall ahead of her. She tried to remember if she’d ever seen him before but couldn’t.

  She turned to her father. “Who is that?”

  “He’s supposed to keep an eye on you.”

  Sabine couldn’t believe it. “You have someone watching me?” A mercenary was watching her.

  “You weren’t supposed to leave Roaring Creek. You said you wouldn’t. He lost you on the way here. You don’t know how worried I’ve been.” Noah turned an accusatory glance on the man.

  The man raised his hands in protest. “It’s a long drive from Roaring Creek to Denver.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Sabine rounded on Noah.

  “It’s for your own good.”

  “My own...” She narrowed her eyes as she began to piece things together. “Why do you have someone watching me? Do you know something?”

  “No, I—”

  “You know something and didn’t tell me.” Aggravated, she growled low in her throat. “Oh, that is so like you.”

  “I don’t know anything.”

  “Then why are you having me followed?”

  “Where did you go?” her father demanded again, ignoring her temper.

  “Tell me why you feel I need protection first.”

  Noah signed in resignation. “You’re as stubborn as your mother.” He paused before he relented. “I still don’t know who tried to stop your rescue.”

  “But no one’s come after me here in the States. Why do you think anyone would?”

  “The media have done us a favor in that regard. It’s obvious you don’t know why you were kidnapped.”

  “Then I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  “I disagree. Until I know who’s behind your kidnapping, that’s how it’s going to be, Sabine.”

  She pointed her finger at him. “Don’t you talk to me like that. I’m not your daughter.”

  “You are my daughter, and whether you like it or not, I’m going to protect you.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him again but held her tongue and lowered her hand.

  He looked down at the field book. “What’s that you’re holding? Where did you go just now?”

  She looked down at the book, then back up at her father. She had no choice other than to trust him with this. “I went to see Lisandra Barry. Envirotech sent her Samuel’s things. I found this among them.” She handed him the field book.

  He took it from her and turned. She followed him into a conference room, glancing at the man with pitted skin on her way. He stayed behind, a silent watcher. Her bodyguard. It frightened her to know her father thought she needed one.

  Inside the conference room, Noah closed the door and faced her. He opened the cover and found the photos, taking his time looking at each one. At last, he raised his head.

  “Do you know who these men are?”

  She shook her head. “That’s why I came here.” The only reason.

  He looked down at the top photo in his hand. “I’ve been to this bazaar before.”

  “In the photo?” Then she realized. Of course, in his active days as a mercenary, he’d been there.

  “It’s the Khyber Bazaar, not far from the Afghanistan border in Pakistan.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe nothing. But as soon as I know something, I’ll tell you. I promise.”

  He was going to tell her? Noah? She was taken aback. And she believed him, which made her uneasy. It sneaked past her defenses and warmed her.

  “You told me you’d stay in Roaring Creek,” he said, repeating his earlier comment.

  “I...”

  “I need you to stay there, Sabine. No more driving alone down the mountain and into the city where anything can happen to you.”

  He seemed genuinely concerned. She wanted to tell him about her dream, but she stopped herself. It was too easy to fall into old patterns and trust him with her heart. The dream disturbed her too much. She wasn’t comfortable with him seeing that much of her emotions.

  “What do you know about Aden?” she asked instead.

  “Archer? Why are you asking?”

  “He might know something about the kidnapping. Samuel and I were his contractors.”

  He studied her face and she could see his question. Why was she asking? She appreciated that he didn’t press her. “So far, he’s clean. Don’t go near him, Sabine. You leave that to us. You stay in Roaring Creek, do you understand?”

  “Us?”

  He hesitated. “Me and the others working to find the people who tried to stop your rescue.”

  Cullen? Was he still involved? She didn’t welcome the surge of warmth that thought gave her. She decided not to ask her father. The last thing she needed was to start wondering if Cullen cared more than she thought.

  “I don’t want you digging any deeper into this, Sabine. If Aden was involved in your kidnapping, I don’t want him to have a reason to get nervous.”

  She looked down at the field book. It might be too late for that. But she nodded to her father.

  * * *

  Late the next afternoon, Sabine was about to leave for the supermarket when a buzzer sounded, indicating that someone was at her back door. Going down the stairs and into the office behind what would soon be her bookstore, she peered through the peephole and saw Aden.

  The shock of it gave her a jolt. What was he doing here? It was too much of a coincidence after the blurb of her visit to Samuel’s wife. But if she didn’t answer the door, she might lose an opportunity to learn something. Besides, her father had found nothing incriminating against him. And she had her very own mercenary for a bodyguard.

  Too curious not to, she opened the door.

  Aden smiled without showing any teeth, his narrow face framed by thin, straight, dark hair. “Sabine.”

  “Hello, Aden.”

  “I came by to see how you were doing. I hope you don’t mind.”

  She shook her head. Instead of letting him inside, she stepped out onto the back stairs and left the door open. “I’m fine. You could have just called instead of driving all this way.”

  “I had to see for myself.” His brown gaze took a quick look over her before meeting her eyes again. “You look great.”

  “Thank you,” she said. Was he telling the truth, or did he have another reason for coming here?

  “Things seem to keep popping up in the news about you,” he commented.

  “Everyone loves a happy ending.” She smiled cheekily, while inside her heart flew. Why was he bringing that up?

  “Was
it a happy ending for you?”

  “I’m alive.”

  “No, I mean about that man in the Washington Daily photo.”

  She knew what he meant. “Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say.

  “They keep waiting to catch you with him,” he said.

  “I suppose the London airport photo is to blame for that.”

  “No supposing about it.” Aden grinned.

  In other words, the photo revealed an intriguing amount of passion between her and her mysterious rescuer. She hid her discomfort. She could still feel that kiss whenever she saw that picture.

  “Did you meet him at Lisandra Barry’s like the article speculates?”

  She breathed a single laugh to cover her anxiety. He was leading up to something. “No.”

  “Why did you go there, then?”

  “I haven’t seen Lisandra since I came home. I wanted to pay my respects.”

  Was that doubt she saw cross his eyes? “The photo showed you holding a field book,” he said. “Was it Samuel’s?”

  She hesitated. “You noticed I was holding his field book?”

  “Why did you take it with you?”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  His smile was too wily. “Someone tried to stop your rescue. I’m as interested as your father in finding out why.”

  She didn’t believe him. “You talked to my father?”

  “He came to ask me some questions.”

  “Really?” She tried to sound surprised. “Why did he question you?”

  “Do you have the field book?” he asked instead of answering.

  Cold apprehension rushed her. Did he know about the photos? How? He must not have been able to find them before they were shipped to Lisandra, and now he suspected they were hidden in the field book.

  “You’re awfully persistent over something as benign as a field book,” she hedged.

  He didn’t say anything, just looked at her with steady, unflinching eyes.

  They were playing cat and mouse, and she had to let him know she wasn’t planning on being the mouse. “I saw you meet with one of the locals in the village where we were working,” she said, hoping it wasn’t a mistake. “Maybe that has more to do with why you’re here than Samuel’s field book.”

  He stared at her for several more seconds. “Who did you see me meet?”

  “I was going to ask you that very same thing, Aden.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Be careful, Sabine. This goes deeper than just me.”

  Chills sprinkled down her arms. Her pulse quickened. He may as well have admitted his involvement outright.

  “Aden, if you know something...”

  A sound to her left made her turn with him. The man from the dark green Civic emerged from around the corner of her building, walking with a slow, long stride, watching Aden.

  “Is everything all right here?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she said, eyeing Aden.

  “I was just leaving,” he said, meeting her look. “If I could have done something to help you over there, I would have, Sabine. Remember that.”

  What did he mean? Was he trying to tell her he was a victim like her?

  Or had he met with Isma’il and played a hand in her and Samuel’s kidnapping, one he now wished he could withdraw?

  * * *

  The next morning, Sabine parked in the grocery store lot. As she locked her car, her mind still raced with everything Aden had said, and what he hadn’t. Her bodyguard had questioned her about Aden’s visit and said he’d relay the information to Noah. She hadn’t told him about her dream, though. What would it gain? Noah had already questioned Aden, and Aden wasn’t talking.

  “Ms. O’Clery?”

  Turning, Sabine saw a tall, slender woman with short dark hair approach from the direction she’d just come.

  “Rhea Graham with Current Events.”

  A sinking feeling tumbled through her middle. She didn’t move to take the woman’s outreached hand.

  “We’ve been trying to reach you by phone,” Rhea said. “I’m sorry to sneak up on you like this, but you really gave us no other alternative.”

  Facing the reporter fully, Sabine cocked her head at the woman’s audacity.

  “Have you given some more thought to doing an interview with us?” Rhea asked.

  “I don’t need to. I’m not doing an interview. Not with anyone. I’m sorry, you’ve wasted your time coming here.” She started toward the grocery store entrance.

  The reporter kept up with her. “How important is it to you to keep your rescuer’s identity a secret, Ms. O’Clery?”

  Sabine’s steps slowed and she glanced at the woman.

  “Someone close to your father knew things about your rescue no one else could,” Rhea said. “It’s how we learned of your crash landing in Greece. With a little more digging, it won’t be long before we have a name.”

  Sabine stopped altogether and faced the woman again. How much had her contact told her? It couldn’t have been too much, or it would have been all over the news by now. “My father isn’t that careless in his line of work.”

  “Are you sure about that? I thought you were estranged from him.”

  True. She had no way of knowing whom her father employed, much less about those he’d entrusted with information concerning her rescue. But even if he’d made a mistake, Cullen wouldn’t have. “You’re bluffing.”

  “Are you willing to take that chance?” In Sabine’s silence, she added, “This contact says she has a phone number. We’re working on convincing her to give it to us. She claims the number can be traced to the man your father hired to rescue you.”

  “Her?”

  The reporter smiled. “It’s your story we want, Ms. O’Clery. The more people who are curious about your rescuer, the more our ratings go up. The man in the Washington Daily photo can stay a mystery as long as the public stays interested...as long as you want him to stay a mystery.”

  “You can’t trace his number. He wouldn’t have used a traceable line.” Cullen wasn’t a stupid man. Then again, there was a picture of him kissing her in the London airport.

  The reporter smiled. “Maybe not. But if we keep looking, eventually something will turn up. A tiny clue that leads to a slightly bigger one that leads to something else.” She raised her brow with a sly look. “He can’t hide forever.”

  Sabine felt her pulse throb and tried to conceal her growing need for more air. “You’re saying that if I agree to this interview, you won’t try to expose the man who saved my life.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. But only if he stays away from you. If we see him with you, the deal is off.”

  “You won’t.” If she’d learned anything from her father, it was that a man like Cullen would have no problem staying away.

  “Then you’ll do it?”

  “How do I know you’ll keep your word? And what about other reporters?”

  “No one other than me knows about the contact who’s close to your father.”

  “Tell me who she is.”

  “Do you agree to do the interview?”

  “I’ll talk about the rescue, but I refuse to talk in detail about my captivity. Or the men who rescued me.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Now tell me the name of your contact.”

  Chapter 7

  “Isn’t your girlfriend going to be on Current Events this morning?”

  Cullen sent Penny a withering glance from the kitchen, where he was helping Luc pack for yet another fishing trip. Both of them had been making comments like that ever since he’d arrived to wait out the Sabine O’Clery media frenzy. “She’s not my girlfriend.” And she better not have agreed to appear on national television.
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br />   From the chair at the end of the table, his uncle’s eyes lifted from his tackle box and Cullen could read his silent skepticism.

  Something had happened between him and Sabine in Kárpathos and his uncle knew it. It didn’t help that his uncle had seen the newspaper he’d taken from Noah’s conference room. Cullen had taken it on impulse. He’d been surprised by how much the photo revealed. More than a kiss between a man and a woman, it showed how invested they were in each other. How invested he’d been. Maybe still was.

  The television went from a commercial to the Current Events show. A blonde anchorwoman started talking.

  “A little more than a month ago, Sabine O’Clery was rescued from her captors by a group of men working independently from the U.S. government….”

  Cullen rose to his feet as the anchorwoman continued. What the hell was she doing? He raged inside. Why had she agreed to appear on Current Events? She was going to ruin him yet!

  “She and one other contractor were assessing groundwater conditions in the Panjshir Valley when they were abducted and taken to an abandoned village. Little is known about the group who captured the contractors, but their leader, a man by the name of Isma’il al Hasan, is believed to have ties to al Qaeda. One of the contractors was killed during captivity, but Sabine O’Clery was miraculously spared.” The short-haired, mid-thirties anchorwoman turned to Sabine. “Ms. O’Clery, can you tell us what happened the day you were captured?”

  The camera moved to Sabine. In a black pantsuit with a white blouse under a stylish jacket, she glowed with health. Cullen couldn’t help noticing other things, too. Though she sat on a sofa and her clothes covered her well, he could tell she’d gained weight. Her face was fuller, her curly red hair shinier. She was even more striking than he remembered. Her green eyes stood out with the dark lines of her lashes, and her lips were glossy and full of color.

  Cullen realized he’d tuned out what she was saying as the anchorwoman asked her about her job and what she was doing in Afghanistan. He was that absorbed in seeing her again. The sight of her fed his starved eyes. He didn’t know what to do with such a foreign inundation of feeling. She threw him off center. And a gnawing desire mushroomed in him to find her, be with her again.