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

by Jennifer Morey

  That didn’t add up for Raeleen. “Why would the buyers kill her if she was trying to get them the painting?”

  Travis frowned his agreement. “That’s what has me stumped.”

  Across the table, Odie’s eyes narrowed as she thought about it. “Maybe Vivian was the one who didn’t want to sell. Deet has a failing restaurant and his marriage was ending. He wanted to sell, Vivian tried to stop him and the buyers killed her.”

  “Still doesn’t explain why Deet’s house was ransacked,” Raeleen said, shaking her head.

  The table went silent as everyone realized she was right.

  “It also doesn’t explain why Raeleen’s cameraman was beaten,” her father said. “They must have already known she was Deet’s lover.”

  Raeleen glanced at Travis, uncomfortable with the direction this was headed. Her father’s company could be in jeopardy if his connection to it were ever exposed.

  “They knew I was sent to rescue her,” Travis said. “And Landon knew things about you, things he heard Raeleen say.”

  Her father’s gaze moved to her and she watched him process what that could mean. Then anger stormed into a black cloud around his eyes. “I’ve told you time and again not to argue with me on the phone!”

  “Dad—”

  “You know how damaging the press can be for me. Are you trying to ruin me?”

  Now anger flared in her. Instant and sharp. “As usual it’s all about you.” She shoved her chair back as she stood, leaning over and pointing at his face. “You don’t care about anything but your damn company!” She was so mad and upset. “You never cared about me!”

  Lowering her hand, she straightened and noticed her audience. No one talked to Colonel Roth like that.

  “You always say that, and it isn’t true.”

  It irked her that he remained so calm, as if none of what she felt mattered. “Then prove it.”

  He pushed back his chair and stood to face her. “How? By exposing TES? That’s the only thing that will make you happy, Raeleen. You’d rather put hundreds of people out of jobs than let me keep running the organization.”

  “There is such a thing as balance. I’m sorry Landon exposed you. I didn’t know he overheard me on the phone with you. But if you spared two minutes of your time for me every once in a while, I wouldn’t feel like yelling at you every chance I get, which ends up being not very many.” She turned. “I’m leaving. I’m going home. While you all thrive on this kind of excitement, I don’t. Thanks for sending Travis to come and get me.”

  “Raeleen, wait.” Her father followed her, stopping her at the door.

  She didn’t want to look at him anymore, the father she didn’t know as a father.

  “How much did Landon tell them?”

  With heavy resignation, she met his purposeful eyes. He’d stopped her to ask her about that, not about how his neglect hurt her. “Ask your pet soldier.”

  He didn’t let her go. “Raeleen, you’re my daughter. I know I don’t spend the kind of time with you that you’d like, but that doesn’t change the fact that I love you.”

  Empty words. Spoken so methodically. He would never change. “Landon told the men who beat him that you ran a secret counterterrorism organization and that Travis works for them. He didn’t know the name, but he knew your name of the organization, and he knew you were the one behind it.”

  “A fact that should deter most people. And yet, you and Travis were followed at your hotel.” He was all business. Forgotten was his daughter, who’d just yelled at him—again—for not being there for her. He could rescue her, oh yeah, but to be a father? What a disappointment.

  “It might not deter a black-market art dealer,” Travis said.

  Around her father’s shoulder, she saw Odie looking grave with her elbows on the table. Jag nodded.

  “We don’t know who’s after the painting. We only know they feel untouchable enough not to run,” Odie said. “That’s not good.”

  “It has to be someone who’s into art,” Travis continued, and Raeleen agreed that a black-market dealer made the most sense. A private collector would probably be less likely to go to such extremes.

  Travis still sat at the table, relaxed against the back of the chair with his hands on his thighs. His intrepid eyes shifted to her and the hint of angry emotion flashed. Remembering she’d called him a pet soldier, she understood why. Contrition weighed down her energy. She’d also nearly walked out of the bakery without so much as a goodbye.

  Moving past her father, she stopped beside Travis’s chair, reluctant to do this in front of everyone but seeing no way around it. Not if she had any hope of getting out of here and away from her father. “Travis.”

  Stiffness answered her.

  “Thank you for getting me out of that lighthouse.”

  “Just doing what any good pet would do.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Don’t make it worse, Raeleen.”

  “He’s a big boy, he can handle it,” Odie said.

  “Stay out of this, honey,” Jag told her.

  Raeleen looked down into Travis’s eyes, knowing she’d miss looking into them. But this was it. There was no need for him to stay with her. He’d brought her home. End of mission. He’d done what he’d promised to do. The rest was in TES’s hands. Her father’s hands.

  “Goodbye.” When he didn’t say goodbye in return, she walked toward the door.

  Her father stood in her way. She didn’t feel like saying goodbye to him. To her amazement, he let her pass.

  “See you at Christmas,” she said. “If you’re free.”

  He didn’t respond, and that waved an invisible red flag. What was he thinking? That she’d see him sooner than that? She didn’t believe it. Not for a minute.

  * * *

  “It’s almost as if she’s one of us.”

  Travis was getting tired of Odie’s smart mouth. She’d picked up on the undercurrents between him and Raeleen. Everyone had. And it only reminded him of losing her when he’d never had her from the start. Dinner with her at the Burger Shack had felt...normal. Like he could share hundreds more of them with her. A lifetime of dinners and other everyday activities. Once again he’d found a woman he’d enjoy exploring and she turned out all wrong for him. She’d try to change him. She’d never accept his profession, and he’d never be able to make her happy.

  “Don’t worry, she’ll come around,” Odie continued. “They all do.”

  Travis sent her an unappreciative look.

  Roth moved away from the door after watching his daughter get her luggage from the driver of the sedan and then catch a cab.

  She’d go back to the airport and then home to New York. Gone for good. Out of his life, and it had been so easy for her to walk away...after labeling him one of her father’s pet soldiers. It told him more clearly than anything that she still thought of him that way. Negatively. He was no different than her father to her, a man she rarely saw, a man she wished she knew more than she did and felt never would. She loved her father but didn’t get enough in return. She was afraid of having the same inadequacy with his pet soldiers.

  “I need you to keep watching her.”

  Travis snapped to attention with what Roth had just said. “What? No.” He shook his head. “My mission is finished. Send someone else.”

  “I’m sending you.”

  “She’ll be mad as hell.”

  “What if she’s followed?”

  He hadn’t thought of that. He was too busy thinking about how easy it had been for her to walk away.

  “She was Deet’s lover,” Odie added.

  They were right. Travis had no choice. To find the painting and catch the black-market art dealer behind all this, he’d have to stay close to Raeleen. She was the first p
erson they’d go after if they couldn’t find Deet before Travis did.

  “Fantastic,” he muttered.

  Chapter 8

  A long nap and then a glass of wine on her apartment balcony with the stereo on low. That’s what Raeleen needed. De-gassing after the adventure she’d just had. So many thoughts cluttered her mind that she felt exhausted. All the way here everything that had happened since Travis broke down the lighthouse door replayed for her analysis. Waking on top of him after the hurricane. Sleeping with him. The Burger Shack. Warm longing filled her, the bittersweet ache of new love, and then angst and frustration, vacillating back and forth.

  Opening her midtown Manhattan apartment door, she breathed in the smell of home. It was so good to finally be here. Shutting the door, she froze.

  Furniture was overturned in her wide-open living room. Clothes littered the hardwood floor, trailing from her bedroom into the hallway. Pictures had been pulled from the walls. Her kitchen cabinets were open and some dishes were broken on the floor. Immediately on alert, she let go of her luggage and dug for her phone, ready to dial 911 if she needed to. She didn’t hear anything. No one was lurking in her open, modern living room and kitchen. Heading toward the short hall, she passed her office. It had been torn apart like the rest of her apartment. The bathroom wasn’t as bad, but her big bedroom was in shambles.

  She put her phone on the dresser and went to the balcony off her room. The door was locked. No windows were broken. Back in the living room, the second balcony door was also locked. Her apartment was ten floors up. How had someone broken in? The doorman only worked days, so it was possible to get in the building undetected.

  The door buzzer gave her a jolt. She pressed the intercom. “Yes?”

  “There’s a Mr. Deet Artz here to see you,” the part-time doorman said.

  Deet? What was he doing here in Manhattan?

  Taking a chance, she told the doorman to let him in. Moments later, he appeared in view of her peephole, dark green eyes fearful and thick, black hair uncharacteristically messy. He usually kept it combed, but today it stuck out all over his head as though he’d raked his fingers through it after skipping a shower this morning. His head turned from one side to the other, as though fearing he’d be seen.

  She opened her door.

  “Raeleen.” He sounded relieved. His long-sleeved light gray dress shirt was unbuttoned at the neck and had wrinkles all over it. His blue jeans had dirt stains on them. How long had he been wearing the same clothes?

  Whatever his reason for being here, she didn’t feel threatened. She didn’t feel anything except the need to learn about the painting. Stepping aside, she gave him room to enter.

  He checked the hall once more before his six-foot frame passed her. Then, seeing the condition of her apartment, he stopped.

  “They’ve been here.” He ran his hand over his mouth as though agitated.

  Raeleen closed the door and walked over to him. “Who?”

  “That’s not good. That means they know I’m here. They must have followed me.” He seemed so frightened. This was a side of Deet she’d never seen. She’d only seen the part of him that met her at her cottage for a weekend here and there. Fun and light. Nothing serious. Certainly nothing dangerous.

  “Who, Deet?” She had to get some answers out of him.

  He recovered, controlling his fear and gearing his attention toward his purpose here. He put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry about all of this, Raeleen. I’m sorry for everything. What you must be thinking...”

  “Why did you come to my cottage after the hurricane?” she asked.

  “I never meant to involve you in this.”

  She stepped back, out of reach of his hands. He wasn’t going to tell her.

  “I was going to divorce her.”

  That didn’t matter to her. Even if he’d been single, their time together would have run its course. He was handsome enough, but there simply had not been a connection. Not the way she’d connected with Travis.

  As soon as that materialized in her thoughts, she pushed it aside. “Deet—”

  “I was. I swear it. I just didn’t have time to tell you.” Moving closer, he put his hands on her again. “I’m in love with you, Raeleen.”

  Smothered by the announcement, Raeleen stepped back again. He had to stop touching her. After being with Travis, it felt dirty. “You have to tell me about the painting.”

  “Please, Raeleen. Listen to me. I fell in love with you. I know you thought the long-distance relationship was working, but I missed you like crazy every time you left.”

  “You never told me you were married.”

  “I was going to divorce her.” He let out a disgruntled breath. “I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid of scaring you away.”

  Scaring wasn’t the word she’d use. “You were married. You should have never started anything with me. You should have told me you were married.”

  “Would you have been with me if I did?”

  He had to ask? She didn’t bother answering him. How unfair of him to keep that secret just so he could have her. She must have known he lacked integrity on a subconscious level, and that’s what had kept her at a distance.

  “Raeleen...” he pleaded.

  “I don’t love you, Deet. I never did.”

  He searched her eyes in denial. “You’re just upset that I was married.”

  “Actually, I don’t care that you are.” Were. Vivian was dead. “There’s a reason I preferred you on the island and me in New York. I didn’t want anything serious with you.” It had taken her too long to figure that out.

  As exactly what he probably refused to accept settled in his mind, Deet said nothing.

  “Tell me about the painting,” she demanded. “Were you going to sell it to save Artz?”

  “How do you know about my restaurant?” When she didn’t explain, he filled in his own blanks. “It’s that man I saw you with. Who is he?”

  He was jealous. Was that why he’d turned around when he’d seen them after the storm? He couldn’t face her with another man there? “That isn’t important. The painting, Deet. I need to know about the painting.”

  “Your father sent him, didn’t he?” He was still stuck on the other man who’d been with her. She’d told him about her father. Not about TES, but apparently it was enough.

  “Travis is helping me,” she answered vaguely.

  Staring at her for endless seconds, he finally moved farther into her apartment, rubbing his hand over his jaw. Lowering his hand, he turned and stared at her again. “I need you to give me the painting, Raeleen. Don’t ask questions. Just give it to me. They’ll leave you alone as soon as you do.”

  “I don’t have it.”

  “You do have it. I mailed it to you.”

  “You mailed it to me here?” Anger flared with incredulity. Not only had he lied to her about his marital status to satisfy his own selfish needs, he’d put her in danger by mailing her the painting. He’d used her. Again.

  She looked around her apartment cynically. “Well, then I don’t have it anymore.” She wasn’t about to tell him that her neighbor Marcy took care of her apartment when she traveled, which was a lot. That included getting her mail.

  If Deet had sent her anything, Marcy would have it. In a flash, she worried that whoever had searched her apartment had discovered that and harmed Marcy. She needed to get rid of Deet. But first she needed him to tell her more.

  Deet approached and put his hands on her shoulders again. “I have to have that painting.”

  She stepped out of his reach. “Why?”

  “It’s best if you don’t know.”

  How could she make him tell her?

  In the quiet pause, he looked over her body and spent some time absorbing her fa
ce, as though remembering their affair. Had it excited him to have an affair? Did sleeping with another woman give him perverse pleasure? Both women not knowing...

  An ill feeling in the pit of her stomach expanded. That was the only part that bothered her about his betrayal. The disgusting reality that he’d been sleeping with two women and she’d been one of them. The only thing she ever saw in him was his faraway address and lack of strings. She hadn’t known him well, and now she was paying the price.

  “I do love you, Raeleen.”

  That only made her sicker. “Did you kill your wife so that you could sell the painting?”

  He blinked once. “No.”

  “Who did?”

  “I don’t blame you for not believing that I love you.”

  Why would he not let that go? “I do believe you. But I don’t love you. Now, who killed Vivian, Deet? Start answering me.”

  “That man you were with must be good if your father sent him to find you. You’re attracted to him, aren’t you?”

  “I’m getting tired of this—”

  “Did you sleep with him?”

  She nearly blanched with the suddenness of his question. “That’s none of your business!”

  “I can tell there’s something going on between you. You’re...different. I know you, Raeleen. You would never have backed away from my touch if there wasn’t another man in the picture.”

  “You’re married!”

  “That doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t have backed away. I’m not saying you’d still want to be with me. You just have this...barrier now, and it isn’t there because I kept the fact that I was married from you.”

  Really? She had a hands-off barrier after being with Travis? Like she was...his?

  “All right, yes. I did sleep with him. And it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. Earth-shattering. Mind-

  blowing. Incomprehensible...completely incredible sex.” Maybe now he’d stop forcing his love on her. Love he’d developed while cheating on his wife and lying to her.

  She achieved her desired result. His whole face turned to stone, going still in tense resentment. “Give me the painting, Raeleen.”