Navy SEAL Seduction (10 page)

CHAPTER 9

A
s a SEAL, Jarrett never underestimated the power of training for an op. Or being prepared with the right weaponry. SEALs constantly trained and trained for missions, and their gear was integral to success. But in this sitch, faced with protecting his ex-wife and her daughter, and the deep gut feeling that things could blow and get worse, he needed to be better prepared.

And armed.

After he dropped Fleur off at her friend’s house, making sure to meet and greet Sally’s mom, and size up the house and their security—much better than Lacey’s, complete with a very large German shepherd dog and lots of security cameras—he asked Ace to bring over a gift basket.

The kind of gift basket one did not order through a florist.

Two hours later Ace drove into the compound in his slick black SUV with the blackened windows. He parked and climbed out.

Grinning, Jarrett stuck out a palm. “My man.”

He clapped him on the back, grateful his friend could help him out. Kyle “Ace” Taylor was shorter than him, standing only five feet, ten inches. He wore one of his typical Hawaiian shirts and tan cargo shorts, and his dark blond hair was wavy and streaked, making him look like a surfer. Ace had an athletic, wiry strength like a tightly coiled spring. With his deep blue eyes and movie-star looks, he seemed too pretty to be a warrior.

Until you saw those baby blues narrow as Ace went for the kill. He’d been a sniper for the teams until he’d taken a bullet to the knee and was forced to take mandatory medical leave.

Jarrett had been through Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL (BUD/S) with Ace and seeing his friend injured had made him think long and hard about his own options. How long before he was laid up with an injury, or worse?

“Iceman, my friend. I have your little gift basket right here.” Ace opened the truck’s back door and hoisted out a large black duffel bag. He placed it on the ground, unlocked it and then unzipped.

Relief swept through him as Ace lifted an HK MP7a1 submachine gun out of the bag and handed it to him. The gun was compact, and would allow him to maneuver in tight quarters if necessary. The HK could be fitted with a scope, laser pointer and best of all, a suppressor to reduce both noise and recoil.

“Wasn’t sure if you could deliver the goods this fast. I’m impressed.” He handed him back the weapon.

“For you—” Ace put a hand over his heart “—I’d do anything. But wait! There’s more. If you order now, you get a bonus gift of ammo! Cut through a tin can one moment and slice and dice a tango the next! And a suppressor! Keeps the noise down so the neighbors won’t think you’re having a party and pout because they’re not invited.”

“Ace is a handy hardware man,” Jarrett drawled, zipping up the duffel bag and locking it. “Sweet.”

“Anytime.”

Jarrett wished he had his night vision goggles to survey the compound at night for intruders. Sophisticated and expensive, they were an essential for deployment. But smuggling them into St. Marc would get him into very hot water with his CO, not to mention the Navy brass.

“Surveillance?” he asked.

Ace shook his head, causing a hank of hair to fall into his face. He pushed it back with an impatient hand. “Can’t get the cameras you need for at least two weeks. And with the capital heating up like a pressure cooker, shipments are slower to clear through customs. Talk about irony. It’s easier for me to get this baby on the black market than to order legit security cameras.”

Damn. He wanted to wire the compound with proper surveillance, and the right amount of night vision cams, but it would take time to get all the equipment. One of the hazards of island life.

Jarrett clapped Ace’s shoulder. “I owe you, man.”

Ace’s gaze went intense. “You owe me nothing, Iceman. If you didn’t haul my butt out of that op in Somalia, my sister would be putting roses on my gravestone instead of cooking me dinner. I can’t thank you enough.”

Emotion clogged Jarrett’s throat. They were brothers in arms, and would always be friends, but it was difficult for him to open up to such quiet admissions.

“Your sister’s cooking is so bad you may want to order that gravestone anyway, Ace. Aimee is one fine woman, but she could burn water.”

“Hey, do not insult my only living immediate family member, Iceman. She doesn’t burn water anymore. She merely scorches it.”

“Come into the house and say hello to Lace.” Jarrett carried the bag as Ace accompanied him.

Inside, the smells of cooking chili wafted through the air. Ace’s nose twitched. “Damn, that smells like really fine chili. I didn’t know Lace could cook.”

“She can’t.” Jarrett carefully set the bag down on the sofa. “Rose, her cook, is terrific. Lacey, come say hello to Ace. He did a drive-by.”

“Kyle!” Wiping her hands on a checked dish towel, Lacey emerged from the kitchen with a big smile. “So good to see you again. Can you stay for dinner?”

His friend dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Lacey, but have to get back to the homestead. Aimee’s making a late supper for me. She’ll have my head in a bucket if I’m late.”

“We have real Texas-style chili Rose is making from a recipe I found on the internet.”

A wide grin split his friend’s face. Ace fluttered his eyelashes and put his hands to his heart. “I love you. Will you marry me?”

Jarrett told him to do something anatomically impossible and Ace laughed, dancing away from the reach of Jarrett’s mock punch.

“Oh wait, you can’t marry me. You’re already taken,” Ace teased and then he stopped, stricken as he realized what he’d said.

“I was,” Jarrett said, forcing a smile.

Lacey smiled, but Jarrett sensed his words troubled her. Yeah, they had been married, and had a good thing, but they let it slip away.

If only they could get it back again.

* * *

That night at dinner Rose’s six-alarm chili impressed Gene so much that he ate three helpings and declared Rose “an honorary Texan.”

Jarrett pushed back his plate and stole another look at Lacey as she talked with Sam. Several times he saw her gaze flick to the sidearms the men carried. Some women might object to the pistols, but Lacey seemed relieved.

That warned him how worried she was about Fleur. He remembered well the days when they’d been married. After coming home from a mission, he’d barely made it through the front door of their house when she ordered him to put away his personal sidearm and lock it up.

Of course she’d also ordered him to get naked, too. That was one order he loved to obey.

Fleur, squeezed between Lacey and Jarrett, had a special chicken and rice dish Rose had prepared for her. She said little. Her hair was done in several pigtails, with bright red bows and barrettes and she wore a red-and-white dress. She looked so sweet and adorable, but her eyes remained solemn as she looked around at the adults.

Worried, Jarrett looked at her plate. She’d barely touched her food. She’d been fine this afternoon when he’d picked her up from her friend’s house. Fleur even laughed as he played jump rope with her.

Lace had been great at reassuring Fleur, protecting her from the underlying tension in the compound from the fire last night, but kids were sensitive.

“You’re not eating,” Jarrett said gently. “What’s wrong?”

Fleur shrugged her thin shoulders.

“Anyone bothering you at school?”

A head shake.

“The chicken isn’t to your liking?”

“It’s okay,” she said. Her gaze slid to Sam and to Gene and he saw the fear flickering in the child’s face.

Three men at the table. All big guys, perhaps like the father who had killed her mother before the child’s terrified eyes.

“You know Gene and Sam are assigned to protect you. They’re good guys. You don’t have to fear them. They’ll make sure you stay safe from the bad men.”

“Like you do?”

Jarrett’s breath hitched. “Yeah. But if you don’t eat that delicious dinner Rose made for you, I can’t play jump rope with you tomorrow. Because I only play with children who eat their dinner and grow big and strong.”

“I’ll never be strong,” she whispered. “Some girls at school say I’m too skinny.”

Fierce protectiveness came over him at her forlorn expression. “I used to be skinny, too. But I got stronger as I grew older and ate the right food, and you will, too.”

Fleur glanced at Sam again, who was built like a linebacker. “I wish I had been strong enough to protect my first mommy.”

The lump in Jarrett’s throat turned into a baseball. He silently made a promise to do whatever he could to help get her to the States where she could get the psychological help she needed to recover from her past. Lacey was right. Fleur couldn’t thrive here on St. Marc. There were too many memories.

How he wished he could find the son of a bitch who fathered this precious little girl so he could give him a taste of his own medicine. Bastard.

“It wasn’t your fault, sweetie.”

“I know.” She sounded so damn adult it broke his heart all over again. “I have a new mommy and I love her.”

“And she loves you very much. She’d do anything for you. She’ll always do her best to make sure you have everything you need. She’s very special.”

Fleur didn’t say anything for a minute. And then she looked at him and whispered, “So are you, Jarrett.”

Suddenly, he felt her slide her hand into his under the table, as if for reassurance. He’d squeezed it gently, relieved when she began to eat.

When her plate was nearly empty, Jarrett turned the conversation to her school and how the class was preparing for the big recital at the end of the school year in another month. Gene asked Fleur to sing the song she’d been practicing with her classmates. As she sang a song about an old French folktale, Gene’s eyes misted over.

He applauded loudest of all when she finished. “Thanks, Fleur. You remind me of my little girl. She’s about your age and she loves to sing, too.”

Jarrett gave her hand another squeeze as Fleur beamed. “Can you skip rope, Mr. Gene? Jarrett is very good at jumping rope.”

Gene grinned. “I bet he is. Not as good as Jarrett here, because I’m not a special warrior like him. I’m not a SEAL.”

“What’s a SEAL?” she asked.

“It stands for Sea, Air and Land. I’m a special soldier who is good in the water,” Jarrett told her.

“Like a fish? We learned about fish last week in school and how they don’t breathe air.” She pursed her mouth and made a fish face.

Lacey laughed. “He’s a very good swimmer, sweetie. Like a fish. Maybe soon we’ll go visit Coco Bay and Holly and Heather. Jarrett can take you to the pool to teach you how to swim.”

“I’d be happy to teach your mommy, as well,” he said softly, his gaze centered on Lacey.

She looked at him, heat glimmering in her gaze. “Fleur. Time for your bath and then bed. Let’s give Jarrett alone time with our guests. I’m sure they want to drink beer and discuss macho stuff.”

Lacey nodded at the sideboard near the dining table, where an assortment of glass bottles stood. “I have a great dark rum if you’d like something that puts lots of hair on your chest, Jarrett.”

Fleur gave her mother an innocent look. “Do you like hairy chests, Mom?”

As Jarrett laughed, Lacey smiled. She put a hand on Fleur’s shoulder and bent down to whisper something in Jarrett’s ear. “On one chest I do.”

Fleur slid off her chair and said a polite good-night to Sam and Gene. But when she came to Jarrett, she threw her arms around him. He hugged her and watched as Lacey left with her daughter.

He, Gene and Sam went into the living room carrying the beer he’d found in the fridge. Gene popped his open and sighed. “What a sweet kid. I miss my little girl.”

“She Stateside?” Jarrett asked.

“She lives with my wife’s parents. Her mom died two years ago. Car crash, when I was deployed. With me moving around so much, I couldn’t keep her. I try to see her as much as I can.” Gene sipped his beer. “And you?”

“Lacey and I have been divorced for five years. It’s over between us.”

How it pained him to admit that.

“Yeah, didn’t look so the way you kept staring at her through dinner,” Gene told him.

“Couldn’t fool me,” Sam drawled.

He didn’t want to discuss Lace or his personal life. “Tell me what you found out about the man asking about Fleur.”

Gene set down his beer, his cocky grin gone. “Guy’s been appearing on and off throughout the past week. Usually just before school is dismissed. He wears dark business suits, expensive and tailored, always with a red checked tie. He looks like an official or a parent, so the locals who set up businesses outside the school or the men who play dominoes think he has a kid in the school. He’s short, and he has a scar on his chin.”

Sam spoke up. “We did a little checking with the locals. There’s a rumor going around that a man is inviting women to his house for interviews about a job working for his business in the capital. They go there for the interview and never return. He’s cutting out their hearts to use them in some black magic hoodoo ritual. They call him Big Shot.”

Lacey had told him about that horrible rumor. “People like to talk, spread tall tales. Have you seen anything or heard anything else?”

“It could be a rumor,” Sam admitted. “Except there’s a missing girl. Local named Caroline Beaufort. Last time her family saw her she was wearing a yellow shirt with lace around the collar, black pants. Her nails were painted neon green. We promised we’d keep an eye out for anyone matching that description.”

That name... Lacey had mentioned it was a woman who used to work for her. It worried him. Had someone close to Caroline blamed Lacey for her disappearance?

Lacey had told him villagers in small communities loved to gossip, and any newcomer was subject to scrutiny. Sometimes the locals blamed wealthy denizens for everything from crop failure to their donkeys dying.

He knew black magic wasn’t unusual on the island of St. Marc. But this particular story had his instincts on full alert.

Jarrett wanted to run into Fleur’s bedroom, wrap both Fleur and Lace in cotton wool and board them on the next plane to DC.

They finished their beer and Jarrett fished out three more from the fridge. Gene was in the middle of telling about parachuting exercises after he and a buddy had drunk too much the night before and “we all ended up puking as the chute jerked us upward like puppets” when Lacey walked into the room.