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

  Heaving a sigh of relief, she lowered her arms and dropped the toilet frame. “It’s about time you got here.”

  He cocked his head, looking from the toilet frame to her face.

  “Let’s get out of here.” She walked toward him. “Being locked in this lighthouse was pure torture with a hurricane on the way.”

  Stepping over splintered wood, she felt him take hold of her hand, bringing her to a halt.

  “I can see the resemblance to your father, but I’ll go first.”

  She wasn’t anything like her father. Why was he saying that?

  Before she could complain, he passed her on his way out the door, checking the stairway with his gun raised. She doubted her captor would still be here, but she allowed him the precaution and followed him down the stairs.

  Outside, wind and pelting rain were much stronger than they had seemed from inside the lighthouse, and she stumbled against its force. Travis took hold of her hand again and pulled her toward a Jeep parked in the sopping-wet gravel driveway. Hearing the terrible roar of the sea crashing violently against the shore, she glanced back to see the churning mass eerily illuminated by the lighthouse.

  “Oh, my God.” She didn’t even hear her own astonished murmur.

  “We have to get farther inland,” Travis shouted through wind and rain.

  A small branch hit her head and she shrieked.

  The rumble of another huge wave smashed the shoreline, this time reaching the lighthouse wall. An enormous spray of seawater exploded around it, and she felt a few stinging drops on her face. Something flew through the air. A piece of wood? It crashed through the lighthouse window.

  “Oh, my God.” She was just in there!

  Travis gave her a tug and she ran the rest of the way to the Jeep. He opened the passenger door and cradled her effortlessly in his arms to dump her onto the seat. Slamming the door shut, he ran around to the other side and got in. Revving the engine, he jerked the vehicle into Drive and spun into a half circle, racing down the driveway and fishtailing onto the main road.

  Raeleen grabbed hold of the door handle and watched leaves and branches and other unidentifiable objects fly across the beam of headlights. A section of someone’s fence tumbled onto the road.

  Travis swore as he swerved around it. “We aren’t going to make it to town.”

  “No kidding.” She white-knuckled the door handle.

  He drove faster, dodging debris without slowing. He had to compensate for the force of the wind, manhandling the steering wheel. He must have had a lot of experience with this type of driving, she thought.

  Another road came into view and she got an idea. Her cottage was one of the highest places on the island.

  “Turn up here!” She pointed to the road.

  His only response was to set his brow and mouth tersely. He slowed at the road and surveyed where it led first. She didn’t have to tell him this was as good as any place on the island. They needed high ground.

  He made the turn and sped up the Jeep. “What’s here?”

  “My cottage.” This was the back way.

  A huge tree branch fell in front of them. Another smaller one hit the roof of the Jeep. Raeleen screamed and put her free hand on the dash as Travis drove off the road to avoid the branch. Sparks from electric lines sprinkled the road as they passed.

  Travis swore again, racing along the road, swerving to avoid more branches. He slid off into some mud and fishtailed back onto the road. Raeleen hadn’t let go of the door handle and braced her hand on the dash again.

  “How much farther?” he shouted.

  “Not far. The houses are just ahead. At the top of the hill.”

  Just then yet another branch came sailing out of the darkness. Travis braked and swerved to avoid it. Raeleen’s seat belt kept her body from flying to the roof of the Jeep as he drove off the road. He narrowly missed a precariously leaning tree. They were thick through here, and he wasn’t as lucky the next time. The Jeep crashed into the thick circumference of a palm tree and stalled. A blur of whipping branches and vegetation was obscured by sheets of rain in the headlights.

  Travis tried to restart the Jeep, but only the headlights dimmed. The Jeep wouldn’t start.

  “We have to walk,” he announced.

  “Don’t you mean run?”

  “Run.” He climbed out of the Jeep.

  Raeleen got out on her side and fought the wind as she climbed toward the road. Travis was already there, a duffel bag looped over his massive shoulder. He took her hand and started jogging. Her boots splashed into the soggy ground.

  “You’re going the wrong way!” she yelled over the din of wind and whipping vegetation.

  “I saw lights this way!”

  “My cottage isn’t that way!”

  “It has to be!”

  Glancing back, she couldn’t see the road and couldn’t remember if it curved in the direction he was headed.

  A leafy branch swatted her shoulder and cheek. “Ouch!” She tripped and fell onto her hands and knees.

  Travis lifted her by the waist as if she were a sack of dog food and righted her on her feet. A sudden gust of wind almost knocked her down again.

  “Come on!” Travis grabbed her hand and ran.

  At a fallen tree, he turned, quick and smooth, to lift her over it ahead of him. Then he grabbed her hand again and resumed running.

  Buildings came into sight. Recognizing her cottage, she pointed. “It’s that one!”

  She’d chosen it for its partial view of the ocean. Like the other cottages along the street, all the windows were boarded. Her neighbor helped her with things like that. He helped her with all her maintenance issues.

  Travis kept her hand and they reached her backyard. “I don’t have my key!”

  Without responding, he hauled her along the side of the cottage. At the front door, he crouched over his duffel bag and straightened with a key. Her key? How had he...?

  He opened the door and she rushed in behind him. Water dripped to the floor from her hair and clothes, and her skin was drenched.

  The walls vibrated from the wind, but it was quieter than being outside. After allowing some time to catch her breath, she turned. Travis stood facing her, holding his bag, listening to the wind slam against her cottage and probably mentally assessing the construction.

  Typical of someone her father would send. What she hadn’t expected was for him to be hot. She pictured men her father employed to have pocked skin, no hair and

  Neanderthal bodies. She drank this one in. His straight nose was proportioned with his strong jaw and cheekbones, his otherwise smooth skin peppered with manly stubble. He had a soft and kissable mouth. His wet hair stuck out in places and still managed to look sexy, and those fearless blue-gold eyes were almost hard to meet. Stunning and magnetizing, they glowed with indomitable sureness. Besides his size, he was an intimidating man. Which was why she should not find him the least bit attractive.

  “The first room on the right is yours,” she said, so disconcerted that the storm had drifted to the background for a few seconds. “There’s a bathroom across the hall.”

  His head lowered from examining the ceiling. “We won’t be sleeping in separate rooms tonight.”

  Because of the hurricane. “I meant so you can change into dry clothes…. Do you have any?”

  Without answering, he went down the hall.

  She couldn’t help feeling a little petulant. While she knew her father would send the best—and were it not for Travis, she’d still be in her lighthouse prison—she hated what men like him represented. They were the fathers of children who grew up in their absence. Functioning dysfunctional families. Like those of alcoholics. Her father’s addiction was government and military, and the power he had in manipulating the politics that
came with them. She’d rather steer clear of men like that. She’d admit she had some commitment issues as a result of her upbringing. It wasn’t easy finding a manly man who could handle her busy lifestyle and whose ego didn’t need to wear the pants more than she did.

  She’d thought Deet might be that man. But she’d already established that she lacked the proper insight in that regard. Was her insight lacking again with Travis?

  * * *

  Fresh from a quick shower—who knew how long they’d have fresh water, let alone electricity—Raeleen emerged into her living room. Ordinarily, the cozy interior relaxed her. But the steady creaking of the cottage’s walls and the growl of wind changed all that.

  What she wouldn’t give for the mainland and a big, juicy double cheeseburger.

  Travis sat on her dark red sofa. He glanced up from checking the blade of a big knife, those incredible eyes of his roaming down and then back up her body. The unmistakable interest made her a little uncomfortable. She wore jeans and hiking boots and a plain white scoop-neck cotton shirt. He’d dressed similarly in a dark T-shirt and jeans. He’d put his boots back on, she saw. They must be waterproof. Of course, why wouldn’t they be?

  Walking around the white, rectangular table with a lamp and some books along the back of the sofa, she went into the kitchen to find something to eat. There was nothing that interested her. Nothing that could be kept in a cabinet for months interested her, especially when she was craving a cheeseburger.

  Returning to the living room, she sat on the chair across from her coffee table and noticed her purse.

  “My purse.” She’d dropped it outside her rental car when she’d been abducted. She recalled the key he’d used to open the door.

  Travis put the knife away and leaned back against the sofa while his gaze roamed over her. “I found it at Artz Eatery. Inside your rental.”

  The way Travis looked at her was distracting. More than his orders hovered there. She cooled her warming reaction.

  Lifting her purse from the table, she dug into it for her cell phone. No service. Not that she expected there to be. Travis had put her keys back in there, and she also found her passport. Her kidnapper must have put her purse inside the car. Odd that he hadn’t taken anything. All her money and credit cards were in her wallet.

  “I returned your rental and just left the keys on the driver’s seat,” he said. “I’d rather not have the police connect you to the murders until we know what this is all about.”

  “Good thinking. And thanks.” She held up her purse. “This saves me a lot of trouble. You, too, since I couldn’t leave the country without a passport.”

  “I’d have found a way.”

  Of course he would have. He worked for TES. She withheld a cynical retort and instead admired his bulging biceps and chest muscles. “How did you find me, anyway?” Her purse couldn’t have led him to her.

  “When I arrived at Artz Eatery, Dietrich Artz’s wife and her brother were there. She was already dead. He was killed while I was there.”

  Instant questions bombarded her along with a good dose of shock. “What? What happened?” She put her purse aside. “How do you know about Deet? Was he there, too? Why was his wife’s brother there? How do you know it was him?” And then she realized this was one of her father’s soldiers. Travis had probably known everything about her before he landed in Anguilla.

  “I went to the restaurant looking for you.” Travis leaned back. “When I arrived, I found Vivian lying on the floor. She was dead, but her brother wasn’t. He must have arrived just before me. The back door was open and the killer was still there. He fired at both of us. Vivian’s brother was shot. I chased the killer, but he got away. A car with three more men was waiting in the street.”

  He’d arrived right in the middle of it all. “Who were the men?”

  “I didn’t get a clear view. Deet, as you call him, wasn’t inside the restaurant, but he could have been in the car.”

  She struggled to digest it all. Deet...? “Didn’t you see the car before you entered the restaurant?”

  “It wasn’t there when I arrived. They must have seen me, though.”

  “That still doesn’t explain how you found me.”

  “Vivian’s brother told me you were in a lighthouse. The report I was given had information about a house on the coast that Deet and his wife owned. There was a lighthouse there.”

  Deet had mentioned the house but not the lighthouse. It was his second home. “Very clever. Thorough.” She expected nothing less. A moment or two more of thought and she backtracked to something he’d said. “You think Deet killed his wife?”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  Deet didn’t seem like the type to her. “If he killed his wife, why was I kidnapped?”

  “It was Deet’s brother-in-law who kidnapped you. John Rey. He and his sister must have been working together.”

  Deet’s wife had arranged her kidnapping? Why?

  “Did you know Deet was married?” Travis asked.

  Was he more interested in her morals than the reason two people had been killed? She supposed someone who’d seen a lot of death would be immune to it, but...

  “No,” she finally answered. “Deet was going to make me breakfast before my flight home. His wife was waiting for us at the restaurant.” She grew angry with herself all over again for not seeing through his duplicity. “She introduced herself.”

  “How did she find out about you?”

  “I didn’t ask. I left as soon as she told me she was his wife.”

  Something hit the plywood that covered the window off the dining area, startling her and causing Travis to look around the room. The lights flickered as they had several times now but didn’t go out. After the strong gust receded to a steadier wind, Raeleen relaxed her stiff grip on the chair’s armrests and noticed Travis looking at her as though she were more than the package he had to deliver to her father. She found herself returning the uncontrolled interest.

  Then Travis cleared his throat, an uncharacteristically awkward sound coming from a man like him. “The element of surprise worked in Vivian’s favor.”

  While his declaration steered them back to their conversation, it also explained why he’d asked her those questions. “I was definitely surprised Deet was married. And I was even more surprised to be kidnapped.”

  “It must have had her desired impact on Deet, too.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.” She let go of the armrests to put her hands on her knees. “But why did John and Vivian kidnap me?”

  “Deet must have something they wanted,” Travis said. “Or they tried to stop him from doing something they didn’t want him to do.”

  “Why would he kill his wife and brother-in-law before he knew where I was?”

  “Don’t forget there were four men in the vehicle I saw.”

  More than just Deet was involved, whether Deet was in the vehicle or not.

  “I was locked in the lighthouse for hours. If Deet’s wife was just murdered when you found her, how could Deet have done it? The restaurant was closed.”

  “It may have taken time to meet her with whatever she demanded in return for your release.”

  Ah, yes. That made sense. He had it all figured out. And the men in the car had provided assistance. What did Deet have that they wanted...and would kill to get? Deet must be willing or his wife wouldn’t have arranged to kidnap Raeleen to stop him.

  “I’m waiting on a financial report from Odie, but I’ll bet she’ll find Deet’s restaurant is in trouble,” Travis said.

  “Odie?” Why was he asking someone else to look into it?

  “You don’t know who Odelia Frank is?”

  “No. And maybe I don’t want to know.” She was probably another one of her dad’s pet soldiers.

  A
loud bang against the side of her cottage gave her a jolt. Expecting something to penetrate the wall, she shot to her feet and glanced around as the sound of a freight train rumbled outside the cottage. She could feel the vibration in her chest, feel the pressure changing in the house. Instinct brought her over to the sofa where Travis sat. He opened his arm for her and she sat beside him without thinking.

  “It’s getting really bad out there.” Talking helped keep panic at bay.

  Saying nothing, he moved his arm around her shoulder, his hand coming to rest there, sending streams of sunlit awareness through her core. All the while, he was oblivious, his gaze moving over the walls and ceiling as though he could see through them. Then those eyes returned to hers.

  “It’s probably time to prepare for the worst.”

  He sounded so matter-of-fact. “Don’t try too hard to be a ray of hope.”

  “I’m not Poseidon.”

  No, he just worked for her father’s secret organization. As much as she despised that, she hoped it was enough to get them through the storm.

  * * *

  Travis rummaged through Raeleen’s refrigerator while she paced the living room. It was impatience more than fear. The way she’d fearlessly held up the frame of a portable toilet seat kind of sealed his impression of her as Colonel Roth’s daughter. Training had cured him of impatience. Fear wouldn’t do anything to help him survive, so he never succumbed to it. Raeleen just hadn’t learned that yet.

  They needed to prepare for the worst. Food, water, a solid place to go if the walls started to fall down.

  Finding nothing in the refrigerator, he moved on to the pantry and had better luck there. Putting some crackers and chips into a box on the kitchen counter, he noticed Raeleen had entered the kitchen. No more pacing. Good. She could be proactive with him.

  “Go get some blankets and pillows and put them in the bathroom,” he told her.

  Her brow lifted ever so slightly at his take-charge tone.

  “Not the master bath. The one across from your guest room,” he added. “It’s in the middle of the house.”

  “I know where it is.”