Navy SEAL Seduction Read online

  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.

  CHAPTER 5

  This time it would be different. Jarrett planned to stick to her side until she screamed.

  Once he’d made her scream a different way...in bed. That memory had his blood surging hot and thick. He remembered her blue gaze dazed with pleasure as he’d slowly thrust into her, their naked bodies achieving a mutual rhythm and pleasure that sent him sailing into the stratosphere. Sex with Lace had been the glue in their relationship.

  But now he needed more to get her back into his life. He needed to give her a safe haven where she could raise her daughter without either of them harboring the fear of someone tossing a firebomb into their car or shooting at them on the street.

  Until Ace got back to him with more intel, he would try to glean as much information as possible around her compound. Good thing he was fluent in French.<
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  She pointed to the wooden crates and neatly stacked boxes by a table topped with glass jars filled with jam. “Help me get these ready for packing. Each wood box can hold four containers of jam. Seal them with the staple gun.”

  As she picked up the gun, he gently took it from her. “I know how to handle one of these. I’m the weapons expert, remember?”

  “Yeah, Mr. Weapons Expert. I remember how you spent a whole weekend trying to fix the gate and the first time you used the nail gun you ended up in the ER with a nail sticking out of your hand.”

  He laughed. “It almost ended up in my ass. That would have been special.”

  A ripple of sensual appreciation passed over her face as she glanced at his bottom. “A real shame to hurt that part of your body,” she murmured.

  Pleased he still had that effect on her, he loaded up the staple gun.

  They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes. Lacey wiped the sweat off her brow.

  “Most of the jam goes across the country to restaurants, but I’m shipping a box to Mom as she and Dad love the stuff.” She pointed to the box he worked on. “Set that one aside. I’m going to ship it via air freight.”

  Her face fell and her lower lip wobbled a little. “I was planning to hand-carry them when I took Fleur with me back home as a welcome home gift. Now I don’t know when I’ll get her home.”

  He knew she was fighting emotions. Knew how she tried to hide it, because she’d always tried to be brave in the past, but that little wobble in her pretty mouth gave it away.

  Jarrett set down the staple gun, making sure to switch it off. He put his hands on her shoulders, feeling delicate bone beneath the soft skin. Lace wasn’t frail, but she had a soft heart and it had to kill her to be put into this position.

  “Hey,” he said gently. “Everything’s going to be all right, Lace. Have faith.”

  Have faith in me. I won’t let you down. Have faith in the job I do. It comes first. But I’ll always be there for you.

  In the end he wasn’t there when she truly needed him. Jarrett gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze, fighting the urge to kiss her senseless as he had in the past. Kiss her and lead her into the bedroom where he’d made all her woes fall away.