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The Colonel's Daughter

Page 18

by Amy Andrews


  They pushed out of the revolving doors and stepped into the bright Sydney afternoon sunshine. Not that he noticed.

  He always used to notice.

  “Bloody hell, it’s stinking hot out here,” Kenny remarked and Seth realized he was right. The January heat weighed heavily against his charcoal suit. Sweat formed in the hollow of his throat just behind the knot of his tie.

  Kenny turned left and Seth followed. The meeting was at the bank’s HQ three blocks down and Seth let Kenny set the pace and continue to ramble on. They were both holding a stack of files as back-up info and Kenny had the laptop with the presentation.

  Seth let the oncoming flow of people melt in and around him as he walked, like he was separate to them, above them, almost. Watching them as if from afar until a waft of something familiar snagged his attention and he stopped, looking around for it, trying to pin it down.

  Kenny kept on walking until he realized Seth had stopped, then backtracked, dragging Seth under a shop awning, their elbows rubbing against the window as he steered Seth out of the flow which he was completely cocking up.

  “Okay, Seth, I don’t know what the fuck’s going on with you, but you need to get your shit together.”

  Kenny was pissed and he wasn’t bothering to hide it. It was the measure of their relationship that he could say it without fear of recriminations.

  “This is the biggest deal in the company’s existence. You’ve been working on this for the better part of a year. And you are seriously fucking it up. What the hell is it with you lately, man? You’re either disinterested or ripping everyone new arseholes. We’ve lost three of our staff in the last two months. You haven’t been the same since you did that job for Danforth.”

  The aroma was stronger now and Seth turned to the shop they were standing in front of. He couldn’t see the name, but the window was crammed full of French pastries and boasted a basket full of huge croissants.

  An image of flaky pastry crumbs stuck to Ivy’s mouth played in full Technicolor through his head and sucked his breath away. What the fuck was he doing here when he could be watching Ivy eat croissants?

  He looked at Kenny. “Ivy.”

  He loved Ivy. Who he’d hurt. Who had cried for his childhood. No woman had cried for him before. Not like that. Not for the little boy he’d been and the man it had made him.

  Kenny rolled his eyes. “Fuck. I knew it was a woman.”

  Seth shoved his files into Kenny’s arms. “Sorry to do this to you, man, but I gotta go.”

  “Go?” Kenny turned a peculiar shade of red. “We have the presentation in twenty minutes.”

  Seth shook his head. He had to go and get Ivy. He’d never been surer of anything in his life. He hadn’t felt more alive in two months than he did right now. He had absolutely no idea how, but he had to try.

  Even if it meant losing this deal and the shitload of money that came with it.

  “You’ll be fine.” Seth clapped him on the shoulder. “You know this thing inside out and back to front. Go get it for me and I’ll double your bonus, but I have to do this.”

  “You’re blowing this off for some chick? They want to see you, there,” Kenny hissed. “You’re the fucking CEO.”

  “She’s not just any chick. I’m going to marry her.”

  Seth didn’t care what he had to do to convince her, but he knew nothing else mattered.

  “Tell them I had an emergency and then bring it home like you always do. Come on man, you thrive on this crap.”

  Kenny shook his head. “I don’t fucking believe this. Are you going to come back with your shit together or am I going to have to start bringing tampons to work?”

  Seth grinned. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  Kenny grinned back. “Good. Neither am I.”

  Seth pulled up in front of Ivy’s house—the Colonel’s house—at six-thirty that night. It was usually a four-hour drive from central Sydney to the nation’s capital, but an accident on the road had complicated things and then he’d run into Canberra peak hour.

  It had been a long trip. He hadn’t stopped for a bite to eat or use a restroom, but at least he’d had plenty of time to think. To strategize. His first instinct had been to call her. Tell her he was coming. But given that she hadn’t answered any of his calls or texts since she’d been home, he doubted she would now, and he wasn’t sure giving her time to plan and maybe flee was good strategy.

  He was just pleased that some previously unknown sado-masochistic streak had talked him into not tossing the burn phone away. Seth didn’t have the kind of security clearance required to find out where Colonel Danforth lived, but with Ivy’s address still on the only text she’d sent him, he hadn’t needed it.

  He looked up at the house from the leafy suburban street. He could just make out the roof guttering peeking through trees that grew over the top of a high, solid, brick fence screening the property from view. It looked private, forbidding. A lesser man may have quailed at the subliminal keep out.

  But not Seth.

  The Colonel could have the whole place surrounded by thorny brambles and he’d keep coming.

  Ivy was in there. And he wasn’t leaving without her.

  He glanced quickly in the rear-view mirror, grimacing at his reflection. He looked like shit. His hair was completely messed up from raking his hand through it every ten minutes, his jacket and tie were long gone, the top two buttons of shirt undone.

  He contemplated taking a moment to make himself respectable. Less…desperate. But hell, he doubted even plastic surgery could manage that. And maybe she’d take pity on his sorry ass and agree to hear him out.

  He checked his teeth, squirted deodorant under his arms, and got out of the car, shutting the door behind him and walking briskly to the narrow, wrought-iron gate, which broke up the almost military severity of the utilitarian brick. He unlatched it and strode through, his heart beating like the bass drum in a military band as he mounted the ten wide stairs, two at a time to find himself in a fancy alcove facing an impressive white door.

  Seth turned his head, noting the discreet security cameras on either side of the alcove. He’d noted a couple more on his walk up the path. Not that it surprised him. The Colonel was high profile and therefore a target. And given the tragedy that had already occurred to the Danforth family, Seth doubted the Colonel took any chances with the security of his home.

  For a split second, as Seth raised his hand to the elaborate brass knocker, he wished he’d called Ivy first. What if she wasn’t here? If she was out of town or if she’d moved out?

  But if she wasn’t going to answer him anyway, how would it have helped?

  If she wasn’t here, he’d just talk to her father instead. Tell him the truth and suck up the consequences. Tell the Colonel he was in love with Ivy. Lay out all the reasons why he was the best guy for her including being able to keep her safe.

  Get him on his side then find out where the hell she was. Make it clear that with or without the Colonel’s cooperation and or permission, Seth was going to find her. And, if she’d have him, they were going to be together.

  Seth used the knocker, his pulse kicking up into the holy shit range.

  It took a moment for someone to answer the door. When it did it was to a woman with steely gray hair. She wore an apron and a neutral expression.

  “May I help you?”

  Seth’s pulse edged a little higher as he got one step closer to his goal. “Is Ivy in?”

  “Who may I say is calling?”

  “Seth Rodrigo.”

  “One moment Mr Rodri—”

  “Who’s that, Mrs McCarthy?”

  Seth’s heartrate hit defcon five at the irritated growl he knew only too well. He braced himself for the Colonel’s displeasure as he appeared in the doorway.

  “Rodrigo?”

  Seth extended his hand. “Sir.”

  “I’ll handle this, Mrs. Mac,” the Colonel dismissed as he shook hands with Seth.

  T
he woman, who Seth presumed was the housekeeper, nodded politely and the Colonel waited until she’d disappeared from sight before he said, “Is there something wrong, Seth?”

  Seth shook his head. Everything was wrong but not in the way the Colonel meant. “No, sir. I’m actually here to see Ivy.”

  The Colonel regarded him for a few moments, then narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t changed much over the years. A little grayer, his skin a little more lined, but his frame was still erect and he still had those spectacularly bushy eyebrows overhanging like hairy caterpillars.

  “Why?”

  “All due respect, sir, that’s really none of your business.”

  The Colonel clearly did not like being told to mind his own business. “I think you’ll find that if it concerns my daughter, it is my business,” he said, eyeballing Seth.

  That look came over him, the one Ivy had described as making her dates piss their pants, the one that he’d seen the Colonel use very effectively in the field. But Seth wasn’t some green recruit and he was not going to be intimated.

  “Is she here, sir? I’d like to see her.”

  “She doesn’t live here anymore,” he said gruffly.

  Seth felt a pang of pity for Ivy’s father. He was obviously displeased at the situation despite having brought it on himself. “Can I have her new address, please?”

  The Colonel’s caterpillars met in the middle. “I ask again, why?”

  “I need to speak to her.”

  The old man’s frown deepened. “Did something happen between you and my daughter, Rodrigo?”

  “Sir…” No way was he discussing Ivy or anything that had happened between them with her father. He’d learned that the hard way. “As I said, this is between me and Ivy.”

  “Dad?”

  The Colonel stiffened and Seth raised an eyebrow at him. “We have a regular Wednesday dinner together,” he muttered.

  “Who is it, Dad?”

  Seth’s heart rate sky rocketed to death con one. Her voice was just the way he remembered it with that slight husky quality. “It’s me, Ivy. It’s…Seth.”

  There was a pause and Seth held his breath. The Colonel seemed to as well. Then she appeared in the doorway. She was wearing a skirt that hugged her hips and thighs and sat just above her knees and a blouse that buttoned up at the front and looked soft and silky to touch. Her pink hair was platinum now and in some kind of up-do, with just a few stray strands working loose.

  She looked like a businesswoman, so different to the casual barmaid, to the protectee in tiny denim shorts, to the woman with the killer tat naked in his bed.

  But that mouth was exactly the same and he almost buckled at the knees as she stared at him.

  “Seth,” she whispered.

  The Colonel put his hand across the open doorway. Seth wasn’t sure if it was his attempt to keep Ivy in or him out but he was dead wrong if he thought that was going to keep Seth from her.

  “Can we talk?” he asked, mindful of her father bristling with every word.

  She shook her head. “There’s nothing to say.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “You and I were just a mistake, remember?”

  Seth cursed himself for ever using that word. The Colonel looked at his daughter, then at Seth, then back to his daughter.

  “Did he sleep with you?” He turned furious eyes on Seth. “You slept with her?”

  “Yes.” There was no point trying to dress up what he did or quibble about the technicalities. Not with the Colonel. Nor with Ivy. He just prepared himself for the blow he was sure would come.

  He’d actually feel better if the Colonel did punch him.

  “I paid you to look after her,” the Colonel hissed, the veins at his temple popping, “and you slept with her?”

  “I crossed a line that I shouldn’t have and you will never know how deeply I regret my weakness. But I’ll never regret the time we spent together and I’ve tried to stay away, but…” He glanced at Ivy who was looking at him with such pain on her face he couldn’t bear it. “I love her, sir. I want to be with her. And I need her to know that.”

  Ivy blinked at the words that had just come out of Seth’s mouth, her pulse fluttering like mad. He loved her? He wanted to be with her? For two months she’d been holding on to her anger and disappointment, telling herself that he’d lied to her, that what happened between them was purely physical, lecturing herself not to become some horrible cliché—the virgin falling for her first ever lover.

  She’d moved out, moved in with Merry, moved on with her life. She had a job.

  And then he turned up on her doorstep and said the magic words and her stupid heart jumped up and down all over the place. Lucky for her she’d learned that the heart should never be allowed a say in such matters.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” her father spluttered, his hand still barring her way like she might throw herself at Seth at any moment.

  Smart man.

  Her head might be following a hard line but her heart was weak. Everything had been so damn gray for so damn long and it was like the sun had come out. And her libido was going crazy over Seth in a business shirt and trousers.

  “You were with her for a week, pull yourself together, Marine.”

  The Colonel snapped it like an order and knowing her father, he’d expect Seth to obey. But she didn’t want her damn father fighting her battles for her. He, of all people, should know that by now.

  “No, sir,” Seth said shaking his head emphatically. “We pretty much spent every night for three months together.”

  The truth in the words hit Ivy hard. She’d been telling herself it was silly to feel something so strongly for someone she’d been with for a week, but they had known each other for longer. She’d had a thing for him right from the beginning.

  He looked at her, those blue eyes blazing heat and sincerity. “It was the best three months of my life.”

  Ivy’s heart quit leaping and started melting.

  Crap.

  “Please, Ivy. I’d just like to talk to you for a moment. Hear me out.”

  Her father stood in front of her, herding her behind him. “I don’t think so, Rodrigo.”

  Ivy knew that voice. The voice that had tried to protect her all her life after the terrible thing that had happened to her and her mother. That had tried to keep her wrapped in cotton wool. That had ruled her life for too long.

  She wasn’t even living here anymore and still her father forgot himself, trying to control which men she talked to.

  Which was, frankly, pissing her off.

  She’d be lying if she didn’t admit to being curious about what Seth had to say. Her foolish heart was desperate for anything that might help it recover from its trampling and she didn’t need Daddy to run interference for her.

  “Dad, its fine,” she said, trying to step out from around him. “Let me just talk to him.”

  He moved to keep her sheltered behind him. “I don’t think so, Ivy. He’s behaved with utter dishonor.”

  Ivy made a growling noise in the back of her throat at the stubborn set of her father’s back. She peered around him at Seth. His jaw looked like granite, his hands fisted by his sides as he stared her father down.

  She rolled her eyes. They should just get their dicks out and get it over with. Between the two of them she’d had just about enough. Her father had been very good giving her space since she’d come home, but it looked like he was regressing—fast.

  “Dad,” she said, her voice firm, annoyed, yanking on his arm. “Move! I want to talk to Seth.”

  Her father resisted the pull and Ivy was about to shove him aside when Seth said, “With all due respect, sir, you need to step aside. I believe Ivy has indicated that she wants to talk to me and I will put you down if you get in the way of that.”

  Ivy’s breath stuck in her lungs at the absolute authority in Seth’s voice. She’d never heard anyone talk to her father like that and it was stunning.

  Not to
mention hot as freaking hell.

  She had absolutely no doubt that Seth could do it, too. The two men were a pretty even match physically. They were about the same height and build and her father had kept wiry and fit even in retirement. But Seth had thirty years on her father. Not to mention absolute determination.

  It glowed like a white-hot flame in his eyes.

  “Dad,” she said squeezing his arm gently this time. “It’s okay. I want to talk to him.”

  Her father’s frame was rigid as the two men stared at each other.

  “I love her, sir. I’m sorry, I didn’t plan it, it just happened. But I’m not giving up either. You asked me to keep Ivy safe and that’s exactly what I did and you have my word that I will keep her safe always.”

  The hard muscles of her father’s arm seemed to melt under Ivy’s hand, his neck and shoulders visibly relaxing. Seth had mentioned the magic word—safety—and for all his faults her father cherished that above all else.

  Hard to go past an ex Special Forces dude for your daughter.

  She should have been pissed at both of them for their paternalistic crap. She could look after herself, damn it. But she was in a testosterone-laden environment and they were just those kind of men—protective, honorable, noble. She’d resigned herself to her father being that way a long time ago. Had given him a free pass too often because of what had happened to her mother.

  And, whether she liked it or not, Seth was that way, too. It was the military in them.

  Sensing the shift, Ivy stepped out from around her father. “Outside,” she said to Seth, herding him back, shutting the door behind them, shutting her father out.

  “Is he going to”—Seth looked above his head in the direction of the cameras she knew were there—“be watching us on those cameras?”

  “Probably,” Ivy agreed. “You have a problem with that?”

  The truth was her father was always going to be in her life and any guy who had an issue with that, who wasn’t man enough to hack it, was never going to make the grade. Her father was a right royal pain in the ass, but he was her father who had been through untold, unimaginable horror. Sure, she often felt like pushing him under a bus, but she’d still defend him till the day she died.

 

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