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

by Jennifer Morey

  “Of course. They don’t care about the contractors. Samuel was onto them. Sabine is with Samuel, so they assume she knows as much as he does.”

  “Or that Isma’il revealed his reason for kidnapping them during their captivity. To demand Aden give him back the emeralds.”

  “Either way.”

  “So Aden and Lowe wanted Isma’il to kill them.”

  Sabine’s eyes drooped with sadness with his comment. He wished he could spare her this.

  “And when you rescued Sabine, Lowe was ready with low-budget mercs.”

  “Compliments of Noah’s secretary.”

  “Right.”

  “There has to be more. Nobody in the States is after Aden or Lowe. There’s no evidence Aden got his share of the money from the emeralds, either. What are they so afraid of?”

  “I’m working on that.”

  “You’re an amazing woman, Odie. Have I told you how much I love you?”

  “You’re full of it, McQueen. Why do I put up with your ass?”

  Cullen chuckled, catching the way Sabine watched him now. She was wary of the way he talked to Odie. “Because I put up with yours.” He winked at Sabine.

  Odie laughed while Sabine’s lips curved with the hint of a smile. “At least you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

  “Ha, ha, ha.”

  “One more thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Noah’s secretary was killed in a car accident. Car went off the side of a mountain. There was a blurb on the news. Maybe you missed it.”

  “Car accident, huh?” He had missed the news on that. He’d been too wrapped up in his own downward-spiraling world.

  “That’s what they said.”

  “Call me when you find Lowe. I’d like to meet the man.” He already knew where to find Aden, and now he couldn’t wait for the encounter.

  “You got it.”

  He ended the call and sat on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes.

  “Who was that?” Sabine asked from behind him.

  “My secretary.”

  “Oh,” she exaggerated the word. “The J-3 captain, expert markswoman secretary.”

  He stood and faced her, liking the way she looked lying there all soft and warm. “She’s good at her job. I’d trust her with anything. Including my life.”

  “So would I, as long as I don’t have to fight her for you.”

  Heat dropped low in his abdomen. Was she doing that on purpose? Flirting with him again, like she had at the restaurant? He looked at her while he removed his clothes down to his underwear. The way she watched, the way her gaze roved over his body and then stayed on his face, moved him in a way that should scare him. Instead, he crawled onto the bed, caging her on his hands and knees. Her eyes widened as he took in her face.

  “You don’t have to fight anyone for me,” he said.

  She blinked once. Her lips parted slightly and her breasts elevated with a deeper breath. He bent his elbows to bring his mouth closer to hers, staring into her eyes while an inner struggle took place in his head. If he kissed her, he might not be able to stop. If he didn’t stop, what then?

  He’d lose himself in her. He’d fall in love with her. And not a comfortable love. With her it would be intense. Deep.

  Life altering.

  The cold shock of fear swept him. He jerked back from her mouth. Then rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

  * * *

  A sound woke Sabine. Opening her eyes to a dimly lit room, she remembered where she was. The light came from the bathroom down the hall, but movement in the room made her lift her head. She blinked the sleep from her eyes, some of her hair falling in front of one eye as she spotted Cullen standing at the foot of the bed. Glancing at the clock, she saw only two hours had passed since they’d gone to bed.

  She brushed the hair out of her face as she watched him load his pistol with a metallic click, anxiety bringing her fully awake. Dressed all in black, he looked much as he had the night she’d found him in her bookstore, which did something hot to her insides. The only thing missing was a mask.

  Where was he going at such an hour, and what was he planning to do?

  His eyes raised. Combat mode again.

  Though the news report yesterday had painted him nothing less than an American hero, he looked dangerous right now.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  He shoved the gun in a holster against his left rib cage without answering.

  Pushing the covers back, she crawled to the edge of the bed and sat on her folded legs. He picked up a hooded sweatshirt that zipped up the front and shrugged into it. When he zipped it halfway up his chest to cover his gun, he looked almost normal. Except for his height and general menacing appearance in black.

  “I want you to wait here,” he said.

  He started to turn, but she rose up onto her knees and stopped him by gripping his sweatshirt.

  Facing her, letting her pull him closer, his lower legs came against the mattress and his gray eyes found hers.

  “What if something happens to you?” Realizing she sounded like a worried lover, she lowered her eyes. What was the matter with her? He knew what he was doing. He got her out of Afghanistan. What made her think he couldn’t handle downtown Denver?

  He bent his head until she was forced to look at him. His eyes were soft above an unsmiling face. His gaze moved to her nightgown. She could feel him warming further, which disconcerted her because it warmed her, too. How close he’d come to kissing her enveloped her.

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  Trying to get a grip on herself, she released his sweatshirt. But she couldn’t resist touching him, so she flattened her hands on his black top between the partially open zipper of the sweatshirt. As his chest muscles flexed underneath, heat flowed more freely in her.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer. Instead he raised his hand and slid his fingers into her hair and around the back of her head. She stared up at him, into the burn of his eyes. His mouth came down. Pressed hard against hers. His other hand slid over her rear for a kneading caress that pulled her against him while he kissed her long and deep.

  Too soon, he withdrew and stepped back. “Don’t try to follow me.”

  At the threshold of the hallway, he looked back at her. “There’s a gun on the nightstand. It’s loaded. Use it if anyone other than me comes into this room. Don’t open the door for anyone.”

  The door shut with a solid thud, and Sabine collapsed onto her back on the bed. She stretched her body, arms above her head, humming with desire, wishing he was back in the room. On top of her. Inside her.

  * * *

  Sabine was sick of looking out the window at Brooks Tower. Every once in a while, a car passed on the street below. Lights glimmered from buildings. She bit her thumbnail. What was taking him so long? What was he doing? She didn’t like imagining him hurting Aden, but she suspected that’s where he’d gone.

  The sound of the door opening gave her a jolt. She scrambled for the gun on the nightstand and aimed it at the hallway. Heavy footfalls drew closer on the tile floor. Cullen’s dark shape emerged, sending her heart skipping with more than relief. She lowered the gun and put it on the table beside the chair.

  Cullen dropped a small duffel bag he hadn’t had with him when he left and shrugged out of his sweatshirt. He unfastened his gun harness and put it on the desk. It sounded heavy. He moved toward her, his biceps and shoulders pronounced in the formfitting black top, his eyes on her like an urgent touch.

  He stopped before her. “He told me everything.”

  “He stole emeralds with Lowe?” Somehow knowing it was true changed the way she felt. It was no longer speculation. Aden and Lo
we had stolen emeralds, and that was why she and Samuel were kidnapped.

  “Aden never wanted you and Samuel to get hurt. But he was most concerned about you. He warned Isma’il if anyone touched you, the gems would never be returned.”

  Was that why Samuel had been killed and not her? “But he never intended to give them back.”

  Cullen shook his head, his eyes still radiating warm intensity, with concern for how she’d take this news. “Lowe made that impossible. It was Lowe who put mercs in the helicopter that fired at us, and it was Lowe who had more waiting for us in Egypt. He forced Aden to use Envirotech’s resources to make it all happen. He also knew Aden could keep him informed about the mission. Aden persuaded Noah’s secretary to give him information because he had no other choice.”

  “But I thought... I thought Aden didn’t want anyone hurt. Why did he help Lowe try to kill me? Why did he feel he was forced to do it?”

  “Isma’il had a friend in Afghanistan’s Ministry of Justice. Turns out that friend made some noise about wanting whoever stole three million in emeralds to pay for their crime. Aden was contracted by the U.S. government to help with the groundwater analyses in the Panjshir Valley. There was a Status-of-Forces Agreement in place, but it didn’t protect nonmilitary personnel if a crime was committed. Aden and Lowe are both civilians. If the Ministry of Justice learns they were the ones who stole the gems, Isma’il’s friend could demand their extradition to face trial and the United States would have to comply.”

  “Because of the agreement.”

  “Yes.”

  Facing trial in Afghanistan as an American was a horror not unlike the one she’d survived. Aden and Lowe had plenty of incentive to make sure that never happened. Even if smuggling emeralds wasn’t a capital offense in Afghanistan, the punishment could be severe.

  “So when I start digging, Aden gets nervous and goes along with Lowe to kill me.”

  “Lowe saw the photo of you holding Samuel’s field book. They looked for it near the borehole but never found it. Aden searched Samuel’s things, but the field book wasn’t there. He must have just missed the contractor who found it, and that contractor must have put it in the shipping box right after Aden searched it. Lowe sees you have it and hires an affordable gun to kill you. Aden is too afraid to interfere. He doesn’t like the way Lowe operates, but he also doesn’t want to face trial in Afghanistan. With all the press surrounding you, they had even more reason to worry about exposure. It wouldn’t take much for Isma’il’s friend to hear about who planned your kidnapping and why.”

  Was she supposed to sympathize with Aden? She found herself wishing they both had been caught. It was what they deserved. Because of them, Samuel had died a terrible death. It made her so angry. Aden may not have wanted anyone to get hurt, but people had gotten hurt. People had died because he’d helped Lowe do what he couldn’t.

  “Is he dead?” she asked.

  “Who?”

  “Aden. Did you kill him?” She knew she was being unreasonable, but the injustice of Samuel’s death brought it out in her. For the first time since her abduction, she wanted to imagine someone being tortured. She wanted Aden and Lowe to suffer the way Samuel had.

  “I didn’t lay a hand on him,” Cullen said in a gentle voice. And it reached through her angry emotions, showing her he understood her so well. He knew it was grief over Samuel that made her lash out like this. “I didn’t have to. He wanted to tell me everything. I think he was glad to finally get it off his chest. It was almost as if he expected me to show up, to give him a reason to come clean. He never wanted Lowe to kill you, but neither did he want to face trial in Afghanistan, and Lowe threatened to turn him over to Isma’il’s friend if he didn’t help him.”

  She moved around him. At the table where she’d left the pistol, she picked it up. She handled the gun for a while, wondering if she had the nerve to go across the street and shoot Aden herself. Cullen put his hand around her wrist, stilling her.

  “Killing him won’t bring Samuel back,” he said.

  Slowly she looked up, struggling with a riot of emotions churning inside her. “Why didn’t you kill him? Why didn’t you kill a man who just stood aside and allowed a good man to be slowly and brutally tortured to death and others to die trying to save me?”

  “He’s not the one who deserves to die, Sabine.”

  But someone else was—she silently finished his unspoken thought. And he intended to hunt that man down. She nodded her understanding, satisfied that justice would be served. Samuel’s death would be avenged.

  Cullen moved to where he’d left the duffel bag. When he returned to stand in front of her, he handed it to her.

  “What is this?”

  “Open it.”

  She put it on the end of the bed and unzipped the top. Inside were several bundles of cash. Aden’s share of the emeralds.

  “Do whatever you want with it,” Cullen said. “Burn it. Keep it. Do something Samuel would have liked with it. It doesn’t matter. It’s your decision.”

  She stared into the bag for a long time, but she already knew what she was going to do. She was going to give it to Lisandra. It wouldn’t make anything right, but Samuel would have wanted to take care of his wife.

  * * *

  Late the next morning, Cullen put his finger to his lips when he opened the door to the room-service attendant. The graying dark-haired woman smiled and nodded. She eyed him as she carried a tray into the room. He wore only his jeans. Was she looking at his bare chest, or did she recognize him? He knew it was the latter when she saw Sabine sprawled sleeping on the king-size bed and her smile turned impish. Covered to her chin and curled on her side, Sabine looked rumpled and content beside the spot he’d vacated.

  Setting the tray of fruit, omelets, toast and orange juice on the counter between the armoire and entertainment center, the woman faced Cullen with covert but obvious glances toward the bed. As though on cue, Sabine rolled onto her back with a moan. She sounded sexy as hell.

  Clearing his throat, Cullen opened his wallet.

  “You don’t have to worry,” the woman said. “No one will know you’re here.”

  He paused in the act of pulling out two twenties to cover breakfast and a tip.

  “The entire staff has strict orders not to say a word to anyone.” She winked and looked at Sabine again, who had folded her arms over her head to enhance her appearance of a woman who was sleeping off a night of hot sex.

  Cullen grinned and replaced the twenties with a hundred.

  The woman thanked him profusely as she left.

  Taking the tray to the end of the bed, he stopped and stared down at Sabine. Two things she loved since coming home from Afghanistan were food and sleep. He adored that about her. He had no idea why.

  She made another sleepy sound as her eyes fluttered open and found him. It was all he could do to keep himself from crawling on top of her. She made it worse by rising onto her elbows, the blankets falling from her breasts and the strap of her nightgown slipping off one smooth shoulder.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  She smiled sleepily up at him. “Same to you.”

  Did she know what she was doing to him? Cullen moved on his knees toward her. Sabine sat straighter, crossing and folding her legs as he placed the tray in front of her. He stretched onto his side beside her, bracing himself up by his elbow. He was very close to that bare shoulder.

  Sabine lifted the carnation that someone had placed inside a small glass of water and brought it to her nose. Watching her smell the flower kept his interest stirred.

  Lowering the flower, she turned her head toward him. He looked at her mouth.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked, twirling the carnation in her fingers.

  He could think of something, but that’s not what she was asking. She w
ondered what they would do about Aden and his pilot. Taking the carnation from her fingers, he lifted it to her lips and used it to brush their soft fullness. “You’re not doing anything.”

  Her lips parted and he saw the quickening of her pulse in her neck. Heard it in her breath. Then she wrapped her fingers around his. He let her take the carnation from him.

  “Are you going to find Lowe?” she asked.

  There went the mood. But it was just as well. He didn’t want to give her false hope there was any kind of future for them. She couldn’t do casual and he couldn’t give her more. “Yes.”

  “And then what?”

  He didn’t answer, which for Sabine was the same as answering her question. She was getting to know him too well.

  “You’re going to kill him, aren’t you.”

  He could see in her eyes that she didn’t like the idea. Last night she was ready for blood, but today she was back to herself. While he couldn’t blame her after what she’d endured in Afghanistan, it spurred his annoyance. Casey Lowe would kill her without a second thought. Sabine might think she could defend herself, but Cullen knew better.

  “Lowe isn’t going to get another chance to come after you, Sabine. I won’t let him.”

  She didn’t say anything, but he could tell he hadn’t swayed her.

  “I can’t always be around to protect you.”

  That ignited green fire in her eyes. “No, you’ll run away to your next mission and I’ll be just an afterthought.” She stabbed the carnation back into the glass of water and slid her legs over the side of the bed to stand. “God, I should have seen this a long time ago.”

  What did she mean, run away? He watched her stomp toward the bathroom, then propelled himself up off the bed to go after her.

  “What do you want me to do? Let him get away with it?”

  “No.” She started to close the door.

  He slapped a hand on it to stop her. “What do you want me to do?”

  She met his eyes with the fiery energy of hers. “Can’t you think of anything other than your missions? What’s so frightening about having feelings for someone?”

  “What?” Where had all this come from?