Читать книгу Navy Seal Seduction - Bonnie Vanak - Страница 13
ОглавлениеIf his ex-wife had punched him in the stomach, Jarrett knew he couldn’t have felt more shocked. He stared at the little girl, her solemn dark eyes too big for her face. His throat tightened and his chest hurt.
He’d always wanted a little girl. A daughter in pigtails, with a cheeky smile who’d giggle when he tickled her stomach or swung her around. A little girl who looked like Lace. When Lacey lost the baby, part of him died, as well. But he had learned to hide his emotions.
Get a grip, he told himself. Jarrett forced a smile, sensing the child’s unease. “It is very nice to meet you,” he said in French.
She said nothing, only kept staring at him. Lacey wrapped her arms around the child, holding her tight. Jarrett straightened, anger surfacing at his ex. Had to control it, didn’t want to frighten the child. There was a story here in the little girl’s dark eyes and solemn expression.
He’d seen the same ancient weariness in the eyes of children he’d met overseas. Adults with a kid’s skin, a kid’s body and the experiences no human being should ever endure...
Lacey hugged the child. “Fleur, this is Mr. Jarrett Adler. He’s an American. I used to be married to him.”
Her expression wary, the little girl looked up at Lacey. Lacey smiled and spoke in French. “It’s okay. He’s a good guy.”
Jarrett felt his throat tighten more. At least the child had a safe place to live, and he could tell from the way Lacey hugged her that Fleur meant everything to Lace.
“That’s a pretty name. Fleur. It means flower,” he said in French.
Still, the child said nothing.
“Fleur, go into the house and change into your play clothing. You can play for an hour before starting on your homework,” she said in French.
The little girl nodded, took another look at Jarret and ran inside as if the hounds of hell pursued her. Lacey sighed. “I think she’s afraid of you. You’re a big guy, like the man we suspect killed her mother. It may take a little while for her to get used to you.”
Okay, more surprises. He was used to surprises; hell, it was his job to be prepared and adapt on the turn of a dime, but from his ex-wife?
He could easily handle an enemy tossing unexpected small arms fire, but a bombshell like this? His temper rose.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me about Fleur?” he snapped.
Lace didn’t even blink. “You’ve been out of my life for a long time now, Jarrett. You don’t know anything about me. And I certainly wasn’t expecting you to drop by for afternoon coffee.”
Dragging in a deep breath, he struggled to leash his temper. “Your daughter. You’re adopting her.”
“If we’re going to talk, let’s work. I have to get these crates ready for shipping the marmalade.”
Lacey went over to a stack of crates and began packing them. He picked up a hammer and helped. Bang, bang. Felt good to slam the hammer down against the nail, get his emotions under control.
After a few minutes he wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Talk to me.”
Lacey stopped stacking large empty sacks near the crates. “Fleur is five years old. She’s lived with me for the past year. I already adopted her in this country. What happened to Fleur’s mother is one reason Marlee’s Mangoes is important to me. I met Jacqueline about a year ago. She was a single mother, only nineteen, trying to sell Fleur to me because I was a wealthy American.”
Jarrett’s jaw clenched. “I’ve heard of that happening.”
“Her mother had kicked her out of the house because Jackie had an illegitimate child. Jackie was staying at a friend’s guesthouse, but it was only temporary. She begged me to take her daughter because Fleur’s father refused to give Jacqueline child support. He was a wealthy man and they had a brief affair.
“I gave her a job. I tried to find out who the father was, so I could pressure him, but Jackie refused to tell me. One day she showed up with terrible bruises on her face. She told me Fleur’s father had shown up the previous night, drunk, and then beat her because she refused to have sex with him.”
The hammer trembled in her hands as she picked it up and turned it over. “I was renovating my guesthouse and promised to give her a safe place to live, but I didn’t act soon enough. When Jacqueline didn’t arrive for work the following morning, I had this terrible feeling. I went to her home. Fleur was sitting on the floor by her mother’s body. Fleur’s bastard father had beaten Jackie to death...and Fleur saw everything.”
Jarrett’s stomach pitched and roiled as he imagined the horror witnessed by the little girl. “What about the cops?”
Lacey shook her head. “No one knew the name of the father, because Jackie kept the affair secret. All we know is he was a very big man and Jackie called him Chou Chou. Fleur was too traumatized to say anything other than she saw Chou Chou kill her mother.”
French for “my favorite.” Not much to go on.
“I wanted to take Fleur home with me, but she got embroiled in a mass of red tape. The police took her to an orphanage. I spent two months trying to find her because the admission paperwork was misfiled. When I finally found her, she refused to speak. I legally adopted her here. I have her passport and I’m just waiting on the damn visa to get her into the States.”
She threw down the hammer. “I want to go back home to my parents and give Fleur the opportunity to heal and receive a quality education. Get her far away from the memories that give her nightmares each night. Only in the States can I find her a psychologist who will help her recover.”
“And you’re stuck here until the visa comes through.”
“This is why I can’t leave with you, Jarrett. Can’t leave and won’t. I am not leaving my little girl behind.”
Her lush lower lip wobbled a little. “I’ve already lost one child. I’m not losing another.”
“I’m sorry, Lace,” he said gently. And he was sorry, for many things. He pushed aside the surging guilt. Now was not the time to examine how he’d screwed up in their marriage.
He had run into unexpected trouble before, and gotten his team out of a royal goat fluster when they’d been pinned down by enemy fire. Nearly lost one of the guys, too. He could figure out a way around this.
“Did State give you an ETA?”
“No. You know bureaucracy, and now with the unrest, it’s not looking great. Even my father can’t pull that many strings. I have to wait until after elections.”
Assess and then action. “What else do you need to tell me, Lace? If there are any other surprises, I need to know. Now.”
Disclosure would allow him to plan and strategize. And action was a hell of a lot better than the guilt squeezing his guts right now. I’ve already lost one child.
The ghost words that weren’t uttered hovered in the air all the same. Lost one child and you ran off, away to some foreign country, leaving me to deal with the loss on my own.
He had a job to do. Jarrett kept telling himself that over and over, a soothing balm that assuaged his conscience. But this time, faced with his ex-wife and old hurts, the balm wasn’t as effective. Deep inside, he found a tiny sign flashing over and over, taunting him:
All your fault she left you. All your fault. You failed.
He was not failing her this time. Not leaving her here with her little girl to face a country toppling around her like a house of cards and a terrorist who wanted access to her NGO.
And that dead chicken on the gate...
“Why do you need to know about my life, Jarrett? You’re not part of it anymore. I can handle myself. Unless you have a way of pushing the adoption papers through faster.”
“I can’t. But your father could.”
She shook her head. “He’s already tried. He wants me to come home as much as you do. I’m here until the papers come through, Jarrett.”
A breeze lifted stray locks that escaped her ponytail. Jarrett folded his arms across his chest and looked over the compound. It seemed peaceful, and the broken glass atop the tall wall would deter trespassers, the ordinary type. But he’d witnessed what kind of damage a grenade lobbed at a wall could do, and worse, what a grenade thrown at a person could do to a human being.
Why was Augustin interested in her compound? He held up a finger. “Give me a minute.”
Jarrett walked away as she kept working on the crates. When Ace answered on the first ring, he lowered his voice. “Ace man, got a problem. I’m here at Lacey’s house. She has a daughter she’s adopting and wants to bring to the States. But her visa is stalled.”
His friend groaned. “She never told me and neither did Aimee. Your ex plays it close to the chest, Ice.”
“Yeah, don’t I know it. If that visa comes through soon, I can hustle her out of here. She won’t budge until then.” He gripped the phone. “Any word on what Augustin wants with her farm and the donation?”
“Dude, the man’s an octopus, not a snake. He has tentacles all over the island with NGOs and parades around as a do-gooder. But word is he’s supplying guns to the drug gangs that are causing all this bang bang before elections. He’s a quiet supporter of the current regime, although the president would never admit to controlling these gangs. He just throws up his hands and says the police can handle it.
“They’ve burned homes in the slum in the capital and executed two people. One was a radio journalist who talked extensively about ousting the current president. The guy kept advocating a candidate who is gaining more popularity, a candidate the US supports.”
Ace paused. “A candidate that Congressman Alexander H. Stewart himself backs.”
Jarrett’s blood ran cold. “I didn’t know Stewart was involved in supporting political parties here.”
“His daughter’s living here, and he still maintains business interests in St. Marc. He wants her home as soon as possible.”
Quickly he told his friend about the threats at Lacey’s compound.
“Maybe the threats are politically motivated. Lacey is well connected. But back in the States, not here.”
“Or maybe Monsieur Augustin doesn’t want to build homes. Maybe he wants to kidnap your ex and wave that over her dad’s head as a threat.”
Ace had vocalized the deep fear Jarrett harbored. Still, his gut warned it was something else the man wanted. “Kidnapping is too messy.”
“I’ll say. Two weeks ago the gangs kidnapped a local and held him for ransom, and his family paid the money, but it was no use. They found his head in the local garbage dump. These guys are slick, Ice. And someone is funding them. Augustin may have the money, but someone else is directing them. Someone very quiet, a real shadow.”
“Let me know what else you find out.” He clicked off the phone and shoved it into his pocket then felt in the back of his jeans for his sidearm. Damn, life had just got a whole lot more complicated.
He knew how to maneuver around complicated. But not with a woman and a child’s lives at risk.
As he joined Lacey at the crates, she straightened. Despite the relative coolness of the day and the refreshing mountain breeze, sweat dampened her temples. It partly soaked her shirt, making the white fabric stick to her torso and breasts. She’d unbuttoned the shirt, and he could clearly see the tempting valley between her breasts.
Male interest surged, but he grimly ignored it. Sex would only complicate things a lot more.
“If you’re ready to leave, you can go now. I’m staying.”
The past was behind them. No going back. But he’d be damned if he got into the SUV and turned around and hopped a plane for home. He was a SEAL and the only easy day was yesterday.
Even when it came to dragging his ex-wife back to the States.
“Got a spare room? I don’t take up much space.”
Lacey’s eyes widened. “No, Jarrett.”
“I can sleep on the floor.”
“You’re not staying. You saw my compound, met my daughter. Goodbye.”
He walked over to her, stroked a finger down her cheek. Lacey quivered. They still had it. The chemistry between them was combustible.
He dropped his hand with a grimace. Nearly as flammable as this country.
“I’ll camp by a mango tree if I must.”
Lacey shook her head. “No. We’re not married anymore, Jarrett. You have no authority over me.”
“Dead chickens on the gate and a known arms dealer showing interest in your charity give me the authority. I’m staying until I find out who’s behind it, whether I sleep on the floor, in a bed or on the ground. Get used to the idea.”
“Jarrett...”
“Try to drag me out of here, Lace. There’s a child involved now and what threatens you also threatens her. That changes everything. I’m not budging. Not until I know you’re safe back in the States with Fleur.”
Or without her, but that option was too terrible to entertain.
He softened his tone. “If not for your sake, then think of Fleur. She’s already lost one mother.”
Her lower lip trembled. “Damn you, Jarrett. That’s a sucker punch and you know it.”
“Show me where I’ll bunk. My gear is in the back of the truck.”
After he grabbed his duffel bag, she led him upstairs to a small hallway. Four bedrooms and a bathroom were at the landing. Lacey unlocked the bedroom door on the left corner and stepped inside.
The room had a double bed with a plain white bedspread, a small desk and chair, scuffed wood bureau and a closet. Jarrett opened the closet, walked over to the window and tested the lock.
At his inquiring look, she sighed. “I haven’t had time to fix it yet. It’s safe out here in the country.”
“Safe as dead chickens with their guts ripped out.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “If you’re staying here, you work. No one gets a free ride.”
“I like hard work.” If he had to camp out by that damn gate, he would.
“Fresh towels are in the bathroom. Unpack and be downstairs and ready to work. You have twenty minutes.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
At his lazy grin, she frowned. “And Jarrett? We’re all women here, so remember to shut the bathroom door and for goodness’ sake, leave the toilet seat down.”
His deep chuckle followed her out of the room.
Jarrett stopped laughing and slung his duffel bag onto the bed, then he checked his weapon and then his wallet. He had no idea why Lacey was being threatened or what Augustin wanted with her charity.
But he sure as hell was going to find out.
* * *
The dead chicken bothered Lacey more than she admitted.
After checking on Fleur and giving her a reassuring hug, she talked with Rose, her cook, and Collette. Neither had seen anything unusual.
Pierre, the guard at the gate, finally admitted he had been dozing off last night. He wasn’t certain how long he’d slept.
Yelling at him did no good. Part of her challenge in running operations at the coffee plantation was hiring good help. Pierre was the son of a factory worker who begged her to hire him. He was a decent employee, and when her regular security guard took two weeks to visit his family in New York, she put Pierre in charge.
She had a bad feeling her security guard wasn’t returning.
Lacey told Pierre she was withholding his wages for the day and told him to go home. She called a friend about hiring a new guard. That was life here in this country. One must constantly improvise.
But the dead chicken was a new twist. Ever since she’d fired some of the local single men for laziness, replacing them with women, there had been grumblings in town. She did have enemies. Because of this, she’d made friends, as well, and hired four older, more muscled and trustworthy men, brothers and fathers to the women she hired, as caretakers to work in the cornfield and keep the grass cut around the property. Some slept in small storage sheds on the property, glad to have a place to bunk. Lacey reasoned if they stayed on the property, they could keep a close eye on things.
But it was a large piece of land, and the caretakers couldn’t oversee everything at all times, especially at night.
Fifteen minutes later, after a quick check of the outside of the house, she went into the kitchen. Jarrett was inside. Straddling a chair, he rested his muscled arms upon the back and chatted with Rose as she chopped carrots.
He flashed Lacey a warm smile as she entered the room, which she ignored, despite her rapidly beating heart. She couldn’t fully ignore him, though. A subtle tendril of scent threaded through the air as he neared—the spicy scent of his cologne. Jarrett still wore the same cologne and it opened a floodgate of memories. The smell of him, delicious and spicy, on his pillow the mornings after they’d made love. For months after the divorce, every time she smelled that particular aftershave, she wanted to cry, because it reminded her so vividly of Jarrett.
Sometimes when he’d deploy she would roll over at night and hug his pillow, breathing in his scent so she’d feel a little less lonely.
And then when he came home, the sex between them was good, so very good. Jarrett had been insistent on spoiling her, feeding her breakfast in bed, making sure she was covered and warm. Sometimes they spent two days in bed, exploring each others’ bodies, getting reacquainted in the most delightful of ways.
Now, staring at her ex, the old desire surfaced. Jarrett was solid muscle, all grace and strength. It showed in the way his powerful biceps flexed as he talked with Rose, but more than that, the man gave her cook his undivided attention. When he centered that emerald-green gaze at you, a woman couldn’t help but melt. Do anything he asked. And if the anything involved getting naked, even better.
Down, girl.
So what if she hadn’t had sex in more than two years?
It didn’t mean she was going to entertain thoughts of getting cozy with her ex, no matter how much her body said Go for it.
She had a compound to run, a daughter to adopt and someone trying to hustle her out of her compound. At least she could rely upon her staff’s discretion.
“Rose and I have been having a delightful little chat. She told me last week someone set fire to your best truck,” Jarrett said softly in English.
So much for discretion.
“It was an accident, I’m certain.” Lacey picked up a bright orange carrot piece and chewed it. “Someone probably tossed a lit cigarette into the cab, which I was foolish enough to leave open. It was extinguished in minutes.”
“Rose also told me that the women have been spooked by things left hanging from the gate. This is not the first dead chicken.”
Jarrett’s even gaze met hers. She shrugged, hiding her thoughts. The man could smell anxiety from miles away.
“She’s only upset because it was the waste of a good chicken for dinner.”
He did not smile at her little joke. She walked over to the counter to peer out the window. Fleur was outside, playing jump rope with the two other little girls who had accompanied her into the compound. Their mothers worked at the mango factory.
Lacey turned, studying her ex. Her gaze fell to the curve of his spine against the tight white T-shirt, the muscles on his back, down to the pistol tucked into the leather holster.
Jarrett was walking, talking security. He wouldn’t have fallen asleep at the gate. He’d have tracked down the trespasser and squeezed out the information about who wanted to scare her.
He rose off the chair, all six feet, three inches of muscled male. Her heart pounded faster.
“I think I’ll have a look around your house before I start on whatever manual labor you have assigned to me.”
For a big man, he had a quiet, graceful stride. She supposed it came from the nature of his work. And he was very security conscious. Lacey watched him check all the downstairs windows. Funny, she’d always felt safe when he was home.
When being the operative word.
But before he’d left for a mission, Jarrett had always ensured that the house was tight and secure, the alarm system working and emergency contacts within easy reach.
Jarrett went to the front door and ran a hand over the edge then jiggled the lock.
He turned, dusting off his hands.
“One well-placed kick could knock down this door.”
“We’ve never had anyone try. Usually they’re more polite and open the door.” She tried to hide the worry he’d put into words. When she’d been alone with Rose, she never worried about sleeping here. Now that she had Fleur, she constantly worried.
“Lacey, I don’t like it,” Jarrett began.
She held up a finger as her cell phone rang. Lacey’s heart sank as she answered and heard the news. Frightened by the spreading violence in the city, one of her best donors was packing his bags and heading back to France.
More and more wealthy donors were pulling out. Her chest constricted. She had to ship out jam and make good on her new contract or she’d lose all her profits.
She crooked a finger at Jarrett. “Come on. I have work for you.”
They walked outside, down the dirt path that led to a large, wood-frame shed where she packed the marmalade. Lacey fished a key out of her pocket and unlocked the door.
He picked up a jar of jam with the labels she’d made on her computer. Lacey took it from his hands.
“This one’s crooked. I’ll save it for the house.”
“You always were a perfectionist.” Jarrett smiled at her and the power in his smile made her weak. That smile...it was what attracted her to him long ago. Not his great, killer bod or his quiet intellect. That 10,000-watt smile. When he turned it on her, giving her his full attention, she felt like the center of his universe. She, who had been ignored by a father more interested in his business and a mother more concerned with her society parties, mattered the most to this man.
Lacey set the jar on the shelf among those she’d intended to keep, her heart squeezing painfully. Jarrett had another lady who came first—the Navy.
Duty before love.
They walked into the room. Jarrett’s gaze went from the stacks of crates and packing to a bottle sitting by the table. He went to the empty bottle, turned it upside down. There was a set of keys beside the bottle.
Her temper rose as she grabbed the keys. “Now I know why Pierre didn’t see anything.”
Jarrett sniffed the bottle. “Doesn’t help when your security guard has been drinking all night.”
“Job hazard in this country. I’ll have to fire Pierre. Total security fail. Damn it.”
He raised a dark brow, and the cynical expression on his face kicked in all her defenses. Maybe he perceived this as evidence she couldn’t hold her own out here, even though she had done it for years.
“One bad call in giving a guy a chance doesn’t make it a total failure.”
She blinked in surprise at his understanding and sought to regain her lost composure. “I’m not upset about that. I’m mad because that was a damn fine bottle of wine I’d been saving.”
His full mouth quirked in a sexy little grin. “That’s the spirit. I’ll find you a new security guard, screen him and have him start right away. I’m sure there are guys Ace can recommend on the island.”
Her mind zipped through the figures it would cost. The type of security Ace would recommend would strain her already screaming budget. “Things are a little tight in the pocket...”
“I’ll pay for his salary.”
“I don’t need your help,” she started. Jarrett raised a brow and she sighed. “All right. But I’ll pay you back after I get the check from the restaurants that ordered the mango marmalade.”
“Deal.” He whipped out his cell phone and sent a text.
As he tucked the phone away, his relief was obvious. “You’ll be doing me a favor, Lace. If you had someone on that front gate who knew how to hold a weapon, a trained professional, I could sleep at night.”
“Me, too. Maybe. Lately that’s a challenge, even with a glass of red wine.”
Jarrett smiled, looking lost in thought.
“Remember when we made the wine after I came home from the tour of Iraq?” He stepped closer, ran a hand down her arm. She shivered with pleasure at the contact.
“I remember how drunk you got me.” Her voice dropped. “I remember...what we did afterward.”
Jarrett’s gaze grew heated. “Every time I cracked open a bottle of wine, I remember what I did with you. Every single moment.”
Lacey hurried through the room, her body tingling. She had to put him at a distance. So many memories, and here he was before her, like a gift she never asked for.
A gift that could lead to heartache all over. She didn’t need this heartache.
And even if Jarrett Adler meant to stay for the foreseeable future, it didn’t matter. She couldn’t risk falling in love with him and ruining her life again.
This time it would be different. He wasn’t going to stick around, anyway. He’d get the call to return to base, and return to being a SEAL. Men like Jarrett Adler never did stick around.
