Navy SEAL Seduction (21 page)

With trembling fingers, she ripped open the package. But the first cartridge was damp. It would not fire.

She examined the second cartridge. Damp as well, but maybe...she loaded the gun, aware of the salt water sloshing around her ankles and the waves pounding against the hull. Mixed in with the smell of seawater was the pungent stench of gasoline. They were going down fast.

She aimed the gun skyward and dressed the trigger. The gun did not fire.

Her shoulders sagged. What was the use? She was going to die out here, on Paul’s boat. No one knew she was here. Rose had told Jarrett that she took the SUV and left for Ace’s house to see Fleur. By the time he discovered the deception, she’d be dead.

Never give up
.

One more cartridge remained. It was also damp, perhaps not as much as the first two. Water sloshed around her ankles now. Lacey loaded the gun and pointed it upward. Oh, please...

She pulled the trigger and the gun fired. The recoil startled her and she fell backward, onto her ass. But the pain didn’t matter as she watched the flare sail upward, cutting a red trail through the night, like a star leading home.

It soared ten feet and then fell to the sea.

Not high enough. Who could see it at that height? She refused to let her mind sink into despondency. There were boaters around. Maybe one had spotted it.

Collapsing back against the seat, in the sinking boat she prayed someone would see it and render aid.

Maybe she could bail out. She searched around for a bucket, anything to bail out the boat. Hope faded as she found a fist-sized hole in the aft section.

No use bailing out. The bow rider was going down, and she was going with it. Lacey grabbed a seat cushion and clung to it as the water lapped at her ankles.

She looked up at the sky, at the waxing sliver of a moon gleaming down upon the sea. Salt water trickled down her cheeks. Jarrett was out there, somewhere, maybe worried about her or wondering why she’d abandoned everything.

Her shirt was soaked with blood and she was losing consciousness. Lacey forced herself to keep awake as the boat continued to slip deeper into the water. Surely someone would find her.

She began to shiver violently.

And then a wave rolled toward her, and she fought it, but her arms were too tired. She let go of the cushion. It floated away, bobbing in the water.

No, please...

She swallowed a mouthful of water and coughed. She simply could not hold on any longer.

I’m so sorry, Fleur. I’m sorry, Jarrett. I’m sorry I didn’t give us the chance to become a couple again, a family
.

Dimly she heard something in the distance. It seemed a long way off. The last thought she had as the grayness pushed at the edges of her vision and her lungs screamed for air was a wistful hope that Jarrett had come for her after all.

CHAPTER 19

T
he SEALs had pinpointed the position of the suspect yacht headed south. In the Zodiac, Coop, Deke and Ace crouched down alongside Jarrett, all wearing their wet suits and combat gear. They were armed and prepared to board soon as they caught up.

Ace shouted to him above the sound of the waves.

“We’re losing them.”

But Jarrett’s instincts tingled. Yeah, they’d lose the yacht, but he suspected Lacey wasn’t on it.

Dark as ink out on the ocean. His NVGs were first-rate but he spotted nothing with them. They headed south, following the yacht.

Instincts fully charged now, he removed his NVGs to improve his peripheral vision. He scanned the horizon. And then he saw a red flare burst into the air about ten feet, then nosetail straight into the water.

Lacey.

“Follow that flare,” Jarrett ordered.

“Ice, we’ll lose the yacht,” Coop protested.

“Do it. Crank it up.”

Coop turned the Zodiac around. Brine splashed in his face, but he barely felt it, for the chill in his bones was making him numb.

They reached the spot where the flare was fired. Jarrett’s blood turned to ice as they came upon a bow rider flipped upside down.

There was a body floating in the ocean. Deke shone a light on the body.

Long blond hair.

No. No
.

Jarrett tossed down his weapon, jumped into the water and swam toward her. He lifted her head up and towed her toward the Zodiac.

As the other SEALs lifted her on board, they began emergency resuscitation. He climbed onboard, his heart racing, his mind frantic. Blood streamed from a wound under the American flag she’d wrapped around her shoulder.

She was dead.

Calm down. You can save her
.

Jarrett took over the mouth-to-mouth from Coop, leaving Ace for the chest compressions. The glowsticks Deke held showed Lacey’s skin bluish and pale. No breaths.

She had given up. His Lacey, the one who had always fought, who’d nagged and pestered him to keep pushing on, to reach past the superficial and grab the brass ring because she believed in him.

She had given up. And it killed him to see her hopeless, lost and empty.

“No.” He grabbed her shoulders, feeling the fragile bones and soft skin. Pale. She was so damn pale. “I won’t let you do this, Lace. You’re not giving up. Goddamn it, I’m not giving up.”

He bent over and continued giving her mouth-to-mouth as Ace resumed chest compressions.
Calm, stay calm.
Must focus. C’mon, Lace, breathe, damn it, breathe. You have so much to live for. Fleur.
Your dad, the charity you worked so hard to build up and all those women you taught to fight back.

Me.

Please, Lace.

Jarrett breathed into her mouth. Then he sat back. And heard the sweetest sound on earth.

Lacey, coughing and gasping. Alive.

“Whoa, there she goes. Thank you, sweet Jesus,” Ace said, sliding off her.

Gently, Jarrett turned her over onto her side as she began to vomit up seawater. He rubbed her back, his lungs expanding with air as he breathed out a huge sigh.

Never again. He didn’t care what he had to do.

He was never giving her up. Ever.

* * *

I should be dead. But I hurt too much.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. Lacey’s head ached and her legs burned, and she felt a deep throbbing in her ankles and hands.

She smelled metal, disinfectant and the slight tang of Jarrett’s spicy cologne on her pillow. Carefully she moved her head to the right. She was lying upon a cot or bed of some sort, in a dorm-style room filled with empty hospital beds. Lacey looked down. She wore a hospital gown, partly pulled over her shoulder and chest, which sported a large white bandage.

A tube snaked out of her right hand, and a cuff was on her left arm. Blood pressure cuff, she realized as she struggled to sit up. Ow. Her body felt as if someone had jackhammered it with a concrete chipper.

A man sat on a stool near her bed, thumbing through a book. He glanced up and dropped the book. Dressed in black cammies and a black T-shirt, he had close-cropped dark hair and a well-toned, athletic look.

“Thank God. You’re awake.” The sailor smiled at her and glanced at the tube snaking out of her left wrist. “I’m Chief Petty Officer Scott Weaver, from Team 15, US Navy SEALs, better known as Deke. I’m the corpsman who did triage on you.”

He beckoned to a woman in blue scrubs, and she came scurrying over.

Lacey tried to gather her bearings as the woman checked the machine by her bedside.

“I’m Lieutenant junior grade Nancy Jones, a Navy nurse. You’re on the Navy hospital ship USNS
Comfort
.”

Nurse Jones made a notation on the laptop she carried. “You’ve been unconscious for a full day, Ms. Stewart. It was touch and go to see if you would make it through surgery because you lost a lot of blood, but you had plenty of volunteers willing to donate for a transfusion.”

“An entire team of them,” Scott interjected. “It’s part beer, part piss and vinegar.”

Nurse Jones rolled her eyes. “SEALs,” she murmured.

“Water,” she whispered, her mouth dry and her lips cracked.

Scott brought over a sippy cup and helped her to drink. The water was warm, but she’d never tasted better.

Her body felt as if someone had hammered it with iron, but her head wasn’t as muzzy. Still, sitting up had drained her. She lay back.

“How did I get here?” she asked.

“The
Comfort
has been conducting disaster relief exercises in the Caribbean,” Scott told her. “It was faster than medevacing you to Miami. We heloed you over. You were in bad shape, Lacey. Almost as bad as Gene.”

“Gene? What happened to him?”

“Ice said he tailed you to the compound and Collette’s guys shot him when he tried to rescue you after they knocked you out cold. He was here for a while, but they medevaced him to Miami. He’s going to be fine. Ice is arranging for all his medical care to be put on his tab.”

“Jarrett,” she said. “Is he here?”

Does he care? Or did he think that I ran off and left him?

She closed her eyes again to hide the tears brimming in them, and then heard Scott’s voice echoing over an intercom system. “Lt. Jarrett Adler, report to sick bay. Your patient is awake. Hoo-yah!”

Lacey opened her eyes again, blinking fast. Scott returned. “That’ll get his attention.”

“He has more important things to do.”

Nurse Jones frowned. “Lt. Adler is the SEAL who rescued you.” She looked up. “Your father is here.”

Senator Stewart, flanked by a tall, gray-haired man in navy cammies with a commander’s insignia, and a suit with an earpiece, came to her bedside. Her dad, pulled away from DC. She felt confused and ashamed for interrupting his work.

“Ten minutes,” Nurse Jones warned.

“Lacey, oh, thank God you’re okay.” Her dad reached for her hand.

“Dad,” she whispered, reaching out. “I’m sorry.”

He squeezed her hand. “Sorry for what, honey? I’m so happy you’re awake. You’re going to be just fine.”

“I screwed up.” She blinked hard, trying not to cry. “Fleur? Is she okay? Where is she?”

“She’s here. Officially. She has her papers.”

“I can take her to the States?” Now the tears did run unchecked down her cheeks.

Her father’s brow furrowed as he reached for a tissue on the bedside table and handed it to her. “Don’t cry, honey. I know you wanted this to happen sooner...”

She wiped her face and blew her nose. Dad. She loved him, but at times, he was clueless. “No, it’s okay. She’s safe now. She’s safe.”

That was what mattered most. Her little girl was going to finally live the life Lacey wanted for her, and get the help she needed, and not have to worry about the
bad men
.

He kissed her cheek. “I have to go now and meet Alastair Monroe.” He flashed one of his famous smiles. “He wanted a personal tour of the
Comfort
, along with Francis. Alastair will make an excellent ambassador. He’s quite the politician, steamrolling over everyone, shaking hands and making friends. He wants Francis to work with him in diplomatic relations. Francis has charm, but that boy is like a locomotive running over the ladies.
Choo choo
.”

Something keep nagging her, tickling the back of her mind like a feather. But she couldn’t remember what.

“Are you going to be okay there, Dad?”

“Of course. The island is safe and protests have died down because of the UN patrols they sent in. You rest.”

He turned and left, and her mind clicked over everything, but the pain drugs pumping into her arm made it difficult to concentrate.

“Hey, Iceman! She’s awake,” Scott said.

And then Jarrett was by her bedside, his green gaze filled with relief and tenderness. He wore the same Navy T-shirt as Scott, and Navy cammies. He crouched down by her bedside. “Lace.”

He kissed her cheek, and warmth filled her. She reached up and traced the stubble shadowing his hard jaw. She had never seen anything better than his handsome face, the smudges of exhaustion around his eyes. “I love you. I love you so much,” she told him.

He blinked and his gaze grew guarded. Jarrett stepped back and gestured and she saw four other men dressed in blue T-shirts and camouflage pants. She blushed as she realized what she’d said in front of them. Obviously they were his teammates and she’d gone all gushy. Not appropriate.

Especially since she was no longer his wife, no longer had any claim on him.

As they gathered around the bed, she became awed at the impressive display of muscles, strength and quiet determination.

“Lace, these are the guys who helped rescue you. Team 15. You already met Deke. This is Snake, Dino, Spuds and Coop.”

She felt half-naked and exposed, but pushed past that to focus on their faces. They had saved her life. “Thank you. If not for all of you, I’d be flotsam in the Atlantic by now.”

“Ma’am. Glad you’re doing good.” This from Coop, a tall SEAL with piercing blue eyes, close-cropped black hair and a scar slicing through his lower jaw.

“Coop donated a pint of his blood,” Scott told her.

“Yeah, but Iceman saved you with mouth-to-mouth,” Coop interjected.

“He wouldn’t let Ace do the mouth-to-mouth, only the chest compressions,” Spuds told her.

She glanced at Jarrett, whose jaw tensed so hard it seemed ready to crack.

“We all wanted to donate blood, but only Coop was a match,” Deke said.

She offered a half smile, suddenly weary. “What about Rose?”

“She’s dead,” Jarrett said gently. “Your father is arranging for the burial, and to take care of her elderly parents. I’m sorry, Lace.”

He pulled up a stool and stroked her fingers as the men said goodbye and left. “You picked a fine piece of property to start a charity, Miss Lacey. The CIA has been after Collette for a long time. They found steps leading to a tunnel and an underground bunker hidden in a cave. Wall supports, a generator and a sump pump to pump out water. The tunnel runs for forty feet before accessing the cave. There’s a huge cache of cocaine, street value of over $300 mil, weapons and a lab.”

He kissed her fingers. “You don’t do anything by half measure. Rest here. I’ll be right back. Someone is dying to see you.”

Lacey closed her eyes and heard a soft voice called out in French, “Mama.”

Fleur. Fighting fatigue and the morphine, she opened her eyes and struggled to sit. Wearing bright pink shorts and a flowered shirt, her daughter came into the ICU, riding piggyback on Jarrett. He sported a huge grin, and Fleur looked relieved but solemn as he set her down.

“Sweetheart. I’m fine.” She hastened to assure her daughter she was going to be okay. “I’m here now and I’m going to get better.”

“Let her rest, Fleur.” Jarrett tried to tug her away, but Fleur laced her little fingers around the railings of Lacey’s hospital bed and refused to let go.

“She’ll be okay here. Please, let her stay,” Lacey told Jarrett.

He considered then dragged over a big recliner and plopped Fleur in it. He fished out a cell phone and tucked it into her shorts pocket. “You stay right here with your mom. If you need me, press the number 1 on the phone. I have business to do, but I’ll check on you in a couple of hours. I have to meet with your grandpa and a few others.”

Lacey smiled as he kissed her goodbye. “I thought I was your number one,” she told him.

He winked. “You were, until this flower came along.”

Jarrett tickled Fleur’s ribs, making her laugh, and then he left.

The ICU was fairly deserted. She was the only patient. Gradually she dozed off.

Her nurse brought in a tray of soup and a sandwich. She tasted it. Ice cold. A few minutes later the nurse brought it back steaming hot. Too hot now. Lacey lacked any appetite. Pushing it aside, she decided to save it for Fleur.

As Fleur closed her eyes, Lacey did, as well.

A few minutes later she heard a noise and her instincts tingled. Lacey opened her eyes. Clad in a dark suit, with a bright red tie and a starched white shirt, Francis stood near her bed. But his clothing wasn’t what startled her nor his presence.

In his hands he held a pistol, pointed directly at her daughter. Trembling, she opened her mouth to scream as she fumbled for the nurse call button.

“Don’t, Lacey. Or I will shoot her.” Pale-faced, Francis looked crazed, his eyes wild.

Fleur’s eyes opened. She stared at Francis, terror etching her face.
“Chou Chou,”
she whispered.

The knowledge hit Lacey like a slap in the face.
Chou Chou
. The one man Fleur feared more than any other.

“Oh, dear God,” Lacey whispered. “It was you. You’re Fleur’s father. You killed Jackie.”

The gun trembled in his hands. “She wouldn’t shut up. Just wouldn’t shut up, just like Caroline. Wanted to marry me. The bitch was trying to blackmail me into giving her money.”

“It’s called child support,” she rasped. “Francis, why did you kill her?”

Lacey reached for her daughter’s hand and pulled Fleur close. Pretending to hug her, she fished into the pocket of her shorts and then flipped on the phone and pressed the number one, leaving the connection open, praying Jarrett could hear.