“Having sex with you was a mistake.”
“Was it?” he challenged and immediately saw that she couldn’t call it that with any conviction.
She humphed again and headed toward the stern of
Rorey’s boat. Travis climbed aboard ahead of her and turned to extend his hand. In those heels, she took it and he helped her aboard. He deliberately didn’t move back so that she bumped against him.
She jerked back, her eyes afire with resentment. But underneath he knew he’d find passion. That addicting passion they’d created together. Right now he could walk away from her. Later...
Maybe she was right. Having sex again might be a mistake.
Rorey’s yacht was about fifty feet longer than Harry and Meena’s and worth about a million more. The blinds over the sliding glass doors leading to the salon were closed.
Travis knocked.
When no one answered, he tested the door. It was unlocked. Now he wished Raeleen wasn’t so stubborn.
He opened the door and carefully stepped inside. All was silent, but the smell was potent. A bloated body lay on the salon floor. The man had been there awhile, but Travis recognized Rorey from the photos Odie had shown them.
“Uh.” Raeleen covered her nose and mouth.
“I’d tell you to wait outside, but you won’t.”
She moved from behind him and saw the body that had been lying there for several days now. Travis covered her mouth before she screamed.
“We don’t need to draw attention right now.”
Her big, round, beautiful blue eyes stared up at him in horror.
“I don’t want to be caught here by local police, okay?”
She nodded three times really fast.
“This is why you need to trust me when I tell you to wait somewhere.”
She jerked her head back. “This is the first dead person I’ve ever seen.”
“And hopefully the last...if you ever listen to me.”
With Raeleen close behind him, Travis did a quick search of the rest of the yacht. As he’d anticipated, he found nothing that would reveal the murderer.
Back on the aft deck, he led her to the dock.
“Why hasn’t anyone noticed him?” Raeleen asked, still disturbed.
“Must not have many friends here.”
“Not even the marina noticed.”
“He has a permanent slip. I’m sure they thought he wasn’t even here.”
“That poor man.”
He was definitely innocent. Putting his hand on her back, he guided her to the steps leading off the yacht. Going ahead of her, jumping onto the dock, he reached for her. She leaned toward him and he lifted her by her trim waist and swung her gently onto the dock. She stood there looking up at him, calming now.
He took her hand.
“Harry and Meena’s yacht is the other way.”
“I want to look at you some more. You dressed that way for a reason, and now I want to accommodate you.” He’d never spoken to a woman this way before. Was he so at ease with her that he felt he could say anything? Or did he feel he had nothing to lose?
“W-what? Travis, we just...”
“Come on. I want to have a look around the marina. See if anyone else is aware of Rorey’s current state.” A partial truth.
“I don’t feel so good.” She put her hand on her stomach.
“Keep moving.”
“No. I really don’t feel good.”
“We’ll get you a soda, then.” He looked down at her shoes. “You won’t be able to walk through the sand in those.”
“I can take them off.”
She did and he walked with her toward the beach. Vendors dotted the sea of blue-and-yellow umbrellas. Travis searched all of them, looking for anyone who stood out.
Sure enough, he spotted a woman dressed in jeans and a white blouse with a colorful scarf blowing in a slight breeze. Wearing a straw hat, her long brown hair hanging down, she leaned an elbow on the surface of an open marina bar and held a bottle of beer. The hat shaded her face, but he had a feeling she was watching them.
He stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
“We’ve been spotted.”
The woman abandoned her perch at the bar and started toward them. She posed no threat to him in public. He’d be ready to draw his gun just in case.
“Who is that?” Raeleen asked.
“Let’s find out.” He waited for the woman to approach. She had to know he’d seen her. She seemed to be waiting for them...or someone. Waiting to see who came to find Rorey dead.
The woman stopped a few feet from them. “I’m sorry. I saw you board Rorey’s boat and...and... Well, you aren’t... You don’t seem like...” She’d taken a chance approaching them. She knew Rorey was dead. Immediately he wondered why she hadn’t notified local authorities. He could surmise only one reason.
The Portrait of Sarah.
“How do you know Rorey?” he asked.
Her lengthy hesitation convinced him she was reluctant to say. Why had him most curious.
“Who are you? Why did you come to see Rorey?”
“We’re looking for whoever killed him,” Raeleen answered, ignoring her question.
The woman studied them warily. “How do you know him?”
“We’d like to know the same from you,” Travis countered.
“Rorey was an art dealer I frequently used,” she finally relented. “I was aboard his yacht when three men arrived unannounced. They would have killed me, too, if I hadn’t hidden.”
That explained why she’d kept her distance and why
Rorey’s body was still on the yacht. She might have been afraid to notify authorities. “Come with us. We’ll talk somewhere more private.” He wanted to be somewhere he could control the situation without having to watch his surroundings. She may have been followed or her surveillance noticed.
Harry had been keeping vigil in the flybridge. When they drew nearer, he came down to the aft deck, Meena behind him, and led them all into the salon.
Raeleen passed Travis and turned to stand beside Meena and Harry near the open galley entrance.
After Travis introduced everyone, the woman told them her name.
“Jada Manoah.” She wandered across the salon of the yacht, significantly less appointed than Rorey’s, fingering the edge of a worn chair. “I collect art from all over world, mainly pieces with interesting history.”
Just like LeFevre. “You were the private buyer Rorey found for Dietrich Artz?” Travis moved to keep facing her.
Turning her head, she nodded. “Yes. The day I came to pick Dietrich’s painting up is the day Rorey was killed.”
“How did you learn of The Portrait of Sarah?” Travis asked.
Jada wandered the salon again. “I’ve known about The Portrait of Sarah for years.” Her gaze touched Harry and Meena’s fish wall art without inflection. “Rorey was one of several brokers I use. He called me after Dietrich came to him. Dietrich’s wife was sensitive to protecting her grandfather’s name, so he asked Rorey to find a private buyer. I collect art like The Portrait of Sarah. I don’t exploit it. To Dietrich, I was the kind of buyer he was looking for. But then—”
“Rorey was murdered by a black-market art dealer,” Raeleen supplied.
“Yes.” Jada looked at her. “Rorey told me about him.”
“Lucian LeFevre?” Travis asked.
She nodded. “Lucian approached Rorey, but Rorey refused his offer. He found out about the painting after Rorey began searching for a buyer. In Dietrich’s best interest, he chose me.”
“Vivian was against selling the painting,” Raeleen said. She’d arranged for her kidnapping to stop Deet.
“Rorey never told me that. He k
ept the owner a secret, at Dietrich’s request. I only learned about him when Lucian came to kill Rorey.”
“What did LeFevre say when he was aboard Rorey’s yacht?” Travis asked.
Jada stopped her wandering and faced them all. “He wanted to know where Dietrich was. When Rorey couldn’t tell him, one of his men shot him.”
She was very refined, Travis observed. Definitely the artist type. He was good at reading people, and she was telling the truth.
Rorey had been killed after Vivian and her brother. And Rorey hadn’t revealed Jada’s identity. If he had, he agreed that LeFevre would have killed her. He’d eliminate anyone standing between him and The Portrait of Sarah.
There was something missing, though.
Jada may be an art collector, and she may be telling the truth, but there was something she wasn’t telling them. He felt it. Stepping toward her, he stopped right in front of her to get a good look at her eyes. They never flinched.
“Manoah,” he said. “It’s Jewish, isn’t it?”
One blink, then two rapid ones. “Yes. You’re very astute, Mr. Todd.”
He continued to watch her eyes, certain she well understood why.
“Don’t you think it’s strange that Deet didn’t divorce Vivian sooner?”
Travis twisted to see Raeleen when she spoke, wondering why she’d asked the question.
“I mean, I was with him for a year,” she continued, perplexed. “Why didn’t he divorce her before then?”
What would she have done if he had? Moved to Anguilla? Travis stepped around to face her, his booted feet thudding on the polished floor. “Maybe he wasn’t sure about you. You preferred a long-distance relationship.”
She didn’t seem to hear him, too deep into her thoughts to notice. “He must have stayed with her long enough to get the painting from her. That’s why he didn’t divorce her sooner.”
Travis berated himself for letting his jealousy show. Harry noticed with a smirking grin.
“She probably hid it from him,” Jada said.
“But then he found it,” Meena added.
“And that’s why we’re all standing here right now,” Harry concluded.
Travis turned to Jada again. “Not all of us.” She had different reasons for being here right now.
Judging by the way her eyes blinked again, she knew damn well he was onto her.
“What do you mean, Travis?” Meena asked.
“I’m Sarah’s great-granddaughter,” Jada explained.
That loaded announcement plunged the salon into utter silence. Only Travis wasn’t surprised. He’d already guessed that’s who she was. His hunches were rarely wrong.
“You have the money to afford buying it back?”
Jada didn’t appear to appreciate Meena’s question. “I married well.” She flashed her left hand, wiggling her fingers. “Divorced now.”
Meena looked bashful. “Sorry.”
Harry curled his arm around her waist and pulled her against him.
“Why pay to have what is rightfully yours, anyway?” Raeleen asked.
Jada turned to her. “My concern for the painting is the same as Vivian’s. The world doesn’t need to know that my grandfather’s wife was murdered by her Nazi art thief of a lover. And now people are dying to possess it. I’d rather no one discovered my identity. While I don’t relish the danger of being killed for it, that painting means a lot to me. It belongs with me.”
Travis agreed. She had conviction where the painting was concerned. He doubted she’d ever give up finding it and having it for her own.
What he wondered was how far she’d go to do that.
“I’ll handle LeFevre.”
“And the painting?”
She was asking if he’d give it to her. “Go back to your hotel and wait for my call. If you’ll leave a number...”
“Do you know where it is?” Jada glanced at Raeleen, and Travis wondered why.
“We’ll call you when we know something.”
Jada’s gaze shifted back to him and he thought she’d press him further. Instead, she gave him a business card and acquiesced.
When she left, Raeleen asked Travis, “Does she know Deet gave it to me?”
“Rorey could have told her.”
“He must have,” Harry joined in.
Raeleen looked at him. “Why not tell us, then?”
“LeFevre is the bigger concern right now,” Travis said. “She probably thinks she has a better chance of getting it from us than him.”
“I would,” Meena said. “Black-market dealer as opposed to counterterror organization. It’s an easy choice.”
Maybe. Travis always reserved his conclusions until there were no missing pieces, and there was still something missing about Jada.
Chapter 13
“He’s smarter than even I predicted.”
In their opulent hotel room, Jada paced from the window to the sofa, where LeFevre sat listening to her debrief him on her meeting with Travis Todd.
“It went exactly the way we planned, darling.” He stood and took hold of her hands, stopping her pacing. “Don’t worry so much.”
She couldn’t believe how she’d come to care for him over the past few days. He seemed to genuinely care for her, too. They’d formed an alliance, an unexpected one. But a little voice in her head kept warning her not to trust him.
“I want you to have that painting, Lucian.”
He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it softly. “And I want to have it for you, my love. Don’t you think I know how much it means to you?”
They both had come to Anguilla for the painting, but Jada had conceded her claim to Lucian, assuring him that her greatest wish was for the painting to be removed from the Nazi hands that stole it from her ancestors. She’d tried to convince him that she was no match for him, while at the same time that she was enamored with his power. Flattery had gone a long way.
Now he’d professed he’d have it for her. And she could hear in his voice and see in his eyes that he meant it. Her heart welled with emotion she was afraid to name or unleash. “Lucian.”
“You don’t have to pretend anymore, Jada. I know the painting is what draws you to me.”
That worried her no small amount. “Lucian, I...” Oh, dear God... Was she in trouble? She didn’t know what to say. If he caught on to her true intentions...?
“When I seduced you, I was sure you’d back away. When you didn’t...” Lust darkened his eyes with the memory.
Jada hadn’t planned on having sex with him. Only the painting compelled her. He’d undressed her slowly, made her stand before him while he raved about her beauty and his fortune to have her.
It had taken every ounce of her willpower to stay in the hotel room with him. And once he’d entered her, her whole world had changed.
“Yes, that is a memory I will keep with me always,” he said, sharing the intensity with her.
“I didn’t expect it.”
“Nor I. Your reasons for being with me are purely selfish, Jada, but I admire your determination.”
“As it happens, I admire yours, too.”
He moved closer, touching her face with his fingers. “Tell me what you’ll do once I have the painting.”
She searched his eyes and answered neutrally. “I don’t know.”
“You want the painting for yourself.”
Running her hands up his chest, she looped her arms around his shoulders. “Yes. But I am content with you having it.”
He read her eyes and she saw him draw the correct conclusion. If not for him, she’d take the painting. Maybe she’d still try.
“I was uncertain what to do with you once we finished this charade.”
Jada waited, ho
ping she wouldn’t have to resort to her emergency plan.
“But that night...”
“Yes. That night.” And the next morning. Midday. And evening. Then he’d gone on his trip.
He was a good lover and she was addicted to that part of his anatomy—against her will, but addicted just the same.
“You are exactly the kind of woman I’ve been waiting for, Jada. Nothing will stop you from having what is yours. You are brave. Beautiful...”
“Lucian.” He made her so hot talking that way. She pressed her body closer, wishing he’d kiss her.
“I’m going to give you your painting, my darling.”
“Kiss me, Lucian.”
“And then I think I’m going to have to marry you.”
“Kiss me.” His statement shocked her and made her crave him inside of her.
He did. And passion exploded. Oh, how she loved the way he ignited her blood.
“You will marry me.”
She tipped her head back and he kissed her neck. “Lucian.”
“Say you will.”
“So soon...”
“I want the painting and so do you.” His rasping breaths intertwined with his warm kisses.
“Yes.” She met his searching tongue, so swept away with sexual anticipation that she’d tell him anything he wanted to hear.
After unfastening his slacks and letting them fall to the floor, he sat on the sofa. While he pushed his boxers down, she unbuttoned her jeans and removed them along with her underwear. Kicking off her sandals, she climbed onto the sofa and straddled him.
He held his erection for her, and she lowered herself onto it, already wet for him. She ground herself on him, feeling him long and hard inside her.
Grabbing her butt, he moved her faster.
“Jada,” he almost hissed.
She leaned forward and kissed him reverently, her sweet, dark criminal. He was so bad, and she loved him.
Gripping the front of her blouse, he ripped it, only to encounter her bra. Unclasping the front hook, he freed her breasts with a satisfied sigh.
Seducing the Colonel's Daughter: Seducing the Colonel's DaughterThe Secret Soldier Page 17