Danger Close (The Echo Platoon Series, Book 1) (34 page)

BOOK: Danger Close (The Echo Platoon Series, Book 1)
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"What if he was?" Maddy repeated as they gaped at each other. Sam hadn't thought that father and daughter resembled each other at all until that minute.

"It may have looked like a heart attack, but what if his heart just gave out like mine almost did?" she added.

Excitement coursed through Sam's veins. "If you can prove he was poisoned the same way Maddy was, the FBI can probably make a charge stick."

"Dr. Troost gave me his card," she recalled, reaching for the white rectangle next to her bed. "You can get the name and the characteristics of the poison from the doctor, then tell the medical examiner in Paraguay to look for them in Elliot's blood."

Her father rolled out of the chair to take the card. "I'll do that," he agreed. "Can't hurt to try." Hope smoothed some of the lines from his careworn expression. "And if his bodyguard was poisoned the same way, we can charge him with attempting to murder you, also."

"And then I can go back to Paraguay and finish my work," Maddy said, her words prompting utter silence.

In that moment, Sam felt as sorry for her father as he did for himself. Letting Maddy flit off to other continents to do her work was going to be the hardest part about being in a relationship with her, especially since his own job had him doing pretty much the same thing.

Dismay wreathed Lyle's face, making him once again look every one of his sixty-five years. "Maddy," he said, dragging the armchair closer so he could sit in it while still holding her hand. "You don't need to finish your work with GEF," he said gently. "I'll send my own people to take a closer look at the situation. Any significant pollution being created by my wells will be cleaned up and contained for good, I swear it on your mother's name."

"Daddy, you're not the CEO anymore. You're not even in charge of the board of directors," she pointed out. "You can't guarantee that they'll agree to that expenditure."

"Of course they will. They're all still loyal to me."

"Even if they will, this is something Mom would have wanted me to do," Maddy insisted, knowing that argument would win him over.

Lyle fell silent. "Fine," he gruffly relented, "but you're not going back to Paraguay until your uncle is arrested," he insisted.

Maddy rolled her eyes. "What's he going to do to me from Switzerland?" she reasoned. "Nothing. He knows the gig is up. Killing me now won't make a lick of difference. Just let me go, Daddy."

"We'll talk about this later," he said on a sterner note.

Maddy fell quiet. Sam could tell by the way she pursed her lips together that she was going back soon, regardless of her father's wishes. And where would he be when that happened? Either training in Virginia Beach or in the mountains of Nevada or even in Alaska—it all depended on the terrain of the task unit's next big Op.

The conversation shifted to concerns that were far less controversial. Maddy regaled her father with the highlights of her and Sam's time together. Her happy smile reminded him of her declaration of love. Their feelings for each other were strong enough to merit a commitment.

We're going to do this,
Sam thought, rubbing her calf through the blanket. On one hand it felt perfectly right; on the other, he was petrified. What did the future hold for them? Could they really nurture the feelings they shared while spending so much time apart?

He knew he had to try. He couldn't let Maddy slip out of his hands a second time. It had been hard enough to put her from his mind after Matamoros.

"When do you have to head home, Sam?" Lyle Scott asked him, as if reading his mind.

"I have to report in tomorrow by noon," Sam replied, fighting the weightiness that shackled his heart, threatening to drag him into despondency.

Maddy's mouth immediately drooped at the corners, letting him know that his imminent departure saddened her, as well. He found himself wishing Lyle Scott had stayed in Paraguay so he and Maddy could spend their last night alone together, even if it was in a hospital. But then Maddy's situation had been critical. In any case, her father had been planning to collect his daughter when Sam's leave was over.

Lyle Scott stood up. "Well, I'll leave you two alone while I go find a bite to eat. I'm famished," he declared, proving himself more astute than Sam had realized. He bent down and gave Maddy a swift kiss on the cheek. "Could I speak to you for a minute in the hall, Sam?" he requested as he headed for the door.

Sam glanced at Maddy for permission then said, "Sure," and trailed him out into the hall.

He found Lyle Scott clenching and unclenching his hands, looking totally overwrought. "Sam, I have a proposition for you, and I hope you'll give it some serious consideration."

Sam suffered the certainty that he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. "What is it?"

Lyle heaved a weary sigh. The halogen lighting drew attention to the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. "I know my daughter's work means a lot to her, the same way it did to her mother. But the stress is killing me," he admitted. "I can't focus on my platform when I'm worried for her welfare."

Sam slid his hands into his pockets. "What do you want me to do?" he asked warily.

"I'd like to ask you to try to convince her to stay in the States for a while, maybe get a job in Virginia, close to you. You seem to have a strong pull on her. Maybe if you got engaged or something," he hinted, avoiding Sam's incredulous stare.

"If she still won't quit," Lyle continued, clearly uncomfortable with Sam's continued silence, "I'd like to make you an offer. If you would leave the Teams and guard my daughter fulltime, I'll pay you twice your current salary. I know that sounds presumptuous. I just—" His voice cracked with emotion. "I can't
stand
the thought of anything happening to her."

A ten ton tank might as well have rolled right over Sam. The offer had floored him. Presumptuous? Hell, yes, it was presumptuous. It smacked of elitism and superiority and all those disgusting attributes he associated with the filthy rich. "You want me to give up my career to be your daughter's security detail?"

A stricken look entered Lyle Scott's eyes as apparently it occurred to him that he'd gone too far. "No, no, of course not." He swept away the offer with a wave of his hands. "I'm sorry. I'm so overcome with fears and doubts right now that I don't know what I'm saying."

"But you said the words," Sam insisted, his heart hardened to the man's obvious distress. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." Lyle sounded eager to make amends.

"Did you lean on General DePuy and therefore SOCOM to get the SEALs sent to Paraguay to defend your oil wells?"

Lyle's eyes widened with guilt. "Well, I might have suggested it. But he told me SOCOM has no say-so over your foreign operations. That was strictly up to the Joint Special Operations Taskforce."

And so it was. But there was no telling how much influence SOCOM had in JSOTF's decision making.

An awkward silence fell between them. Sam stood taller to counteract the feelings of inferiority and indignation sluicing through him. Here was this man thinking he could be bought, thinking he had a right to sway the military to protect his interests. This wasn't only about Maddy and her safety. This was about Lyle Scott believing that his wealth gave him the right to manipulate others, even to the point of suggesting Sam get engaged to Maddy and give up his career for her sake.

Hell, no
.

"I think I've said enough," Lyle acknowledged, lowering his gaze. He turned away with a nod. "I'll go get some food."

In a tumultuous frame of mind, Sam watched him walk away until he'd disappeared from view. And then he turned and looked at Maddy's door.

A memory surfaced suddenly. He had felt this way back when Wendy the prom queen's father had convinced the judge not to post bail for her daughter's alleged attacker. Sam had spent the next two months awaiting trial at the state penitentiary, alongside hardened felons and child molesters. He'd been beaten, taunted, and very nearly sexually molested—all because Wendy's father's wealth had allowed him to influence the system.

Sam had loathed rich people ever since for thinking they had the right to manipulate those beneath them. Maddy's father wasn't any different. Both men had meant well. Both had wanted to protect their daughters, but to assume that Sam would give up his hard-won status as a Navy SEAL was every bit as arrogant as assuming Sam was guilty of rape just because he was Latino.

In Lyle's eyes, Sam would never be seen as Maddy's equal. He was nothing more than a tool to be manipulated, an insurance policy for keeping her safe. It had been that way from the moment Lyle clapped eyes on him. The only reason Lyle had found Maddy the job with GEF was because he'd found out through his friend General DePuy that Sam would be operating in the same location. Having noticed the chemistry between Sam and his daughter aboard the
Harry S. Truman
, he'd probably said to himself, "Now here's someone who can look after Maddy so I don't have to."

Well, guess what, Mr. Billionaire? This is one man who can't be bought. I may never make the kind of money you do, but I'm my own man. No one manipulates me!

With a deep inhale, Sam sought to harness his runaway temper.

And what about Maddy? he asked himself. Did she have any inkling of what her father had just offered him? Surely not. She had never once hinted he should quit his job and shadow her for the rest of their lives. Sam, on the other hand, had suggested she quit
her
job. That probably made him a hypocrite, but it didn't change the fact that her father had manipulated circumstances in the past and had just attempted to influence Sam's very future. At the very least, he'd suggested that Sam and Maddy get engaged.

Hah! Like he had any say-so in Sam's future matrimonial plans.

He had
no
say-so. None at all. And there would
be
no future plans, because Sam would sooner face a lifetime of looking for a woman who made him feel the way Maddy did than bow to another man's dictates.

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

Maddy regarded the door with concern. Sam had been out of the room for more than ten minutes. She'd overheard her father's voice at first and then the sound of him walking away. Still no Sam. She could use a cup of ice water, and she was hoping the nurse would remove the little stickers on her chest so she could get up and wash her hair. Maybe Sam could help her with that? She didn't want to spend the last night of her vacation looking like something the tide had washed in.

At last the door opened—slowly. Sam edged into the room and right away, she sensed the anger and resentment emanating off his stiffly held body. He crossed to the foot of her bed and stuck his hands into his pockets, his dark eyes as inscrutable as the first time she'd ever looked into them.

"What's wrong?" she dared to ask. Her heart blipped perceptibly faster on the monitor behind her. "What did he say to you?"

Sam's chest expanded on a deep breath. His jaw muscles jumped. She knew whatever it was it had changed something for the worse.

"It doesn't matter what he said." His rich baritone voice had turned monotone, emotionless. "Maddy, I've realized something about us."

A weight fell on her chest. Here it came. Nothing as good as what they'd shared could last forever. "What?" she whispered.

"I'm not the man you need me to be."

She hadn't expected him to say that. "Why do you say that? What did my father say to you?" she repeated.

"You need a man who's going to be there for you—maybe even travel to all the hot spots you insist on visiting." With every word, his tone grew more brittle. "You need a man who wants to follow in your father's footsteps and do everything he says. In short, you need a trained monkey, not a Navy SEAL."

Stunned by his vehemence, she could only stare at him in horror.

"I've enjoyed
every
minute of my leave with you," he continued, his tone now gravelly with emotion that she was only just beginning to glimpse in the depths of his eyes. "And you are a remarkable and beautiful woman, both inside and out. I meant what I said earlier—"

Was he referring to that moment on horseback when he'd returned her declaration of love?

"—but I
can't
give up my honor and my identity for you."

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