Kissing Fortune (Man Season) (2 page)

Or was it
Bodey
?
He had a thing for her, told her once that he meant to take her away from
Istvan
once the show was done. Nah, he was too lazy to even
think of constructing a bomb, though he did work with explosives in
Iraq
while he was in the military.

Then there was her brother, Dennis
Aram
Evans. The brat was spoiled beyond
belief, had envied and despised Tierney for most of her life.
And why?
Because he was utterly happy being an only child,
pampered and paraded about like a prize cow. He enjoyed all the attention and
bragging. Then Tierney came along and stole some of his sunshine, leaving him a
miserable, sullen beast. She had tried to love him in spite of his acid tongue
and spiteful actions but it couldn’t be done. Only a saint – and she certainly
wasn’t one - could love that guy.

Tierney thought maybe she should call
her folks. Then she remembered her phone was in her purse and her purse was probably
floating in the Pacific if it hadn’t been blown to bits. She had the urge to
pee, took the opportunity to use the tiny bathroom.

As she was sitting there she heard
the footsteps again. The bathroom door flew open before she could get her
Victoria
’s Secret panties up! She stood;
bare-butted, face to hairy chest with the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. He
was shirtless, wearing jeans and deck shoes, and shaped like Apollo in a
Romantic Era painting, his body firm and muscled, his features finely chiseled,
with lines down his cheeks and a dimple in his chin. He looked her up and down
with cinnamon brown eyes then averted his gaze while he ran lean fingers
through a mass of golden brown hair. She swore his tanned face turned ruddy.

“What the hell … how did you get in
here?”

Tierney repositioned her panties, and
smoothed her denim miniskirt as she fashioned a quick lie. “I thought this was
my dad’s boat.
The Saracen.
I guess I was mistaken …”

“You must be blind, or high on
something. Get your business done while I turn the boat around.”

He turned to leave; she followed him
out. “Wait, oh, please! I can’t go back! Someone tried to kill me!”

He flung about, stood tall in front
of her. She was trying to mentally measure his height, made him out to be at least
six foot two.

“Are you crazy?”

“No, just afraid.
Do you have a TV? It must be on the
news by now.”

He dug through the clothes, found a
small flat screen on a table, and flicked it on. After a bit of channel surfing
he left it on the twenty-four hour news network. They were indeed talking about
Tierney. Her face was all over the screen.

“A bomb?
Damn, you must’ve made somebody real
angry!”

“Yeah, I guess I must have.” All of a
sudden her eyes went wet, tears streamed down her cheeks, ruining her mascara.

“Hey, there’s no need for that. Come
on, dry it up.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t! I’ve been
holding it in too long.”

She plopped down on a sofa, buried
her face in her hands. She felt three years old again. Her mother, upset over
some stupid thing her dad had done, left her in a ritzy galleria, and walked
off to her car. The poor child was lost for half an hour, bumping into callous
strangers. Finally her mother returned and scooped her up, begging forgiveness.
Tierney forgave her but she never forgot that feeling of vulnerability, of
being completely, hopelessly alone. It all came back to her now. And she
couldn’t stop the fear and misery from claiming her.

The man sat down beside her; he
seemed confused, frustrated.

“This isn’t helping anything, you
know. Tell me your family’s number and I’ll call them. They need to know you’re
okay.”

She glanced up into the rich brown
eyes. Hers were glistening, reddened by the tears. He began to fidget, as if
being so close to her made him uncomfortable. He smoothed her ash blonde hair
from her face.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Fortune.
Ezekiel Fortune, though most people
call me
Kiel
.”

“
Kiel
? That’s kind of cool. I’m Tierney,
but I guess you knew that.”

“Not until I saw the report. I’m not one
to watch reality shows. I’ve got enough drama in my own life.”

“Are you married?”

“No, was, once, but that ship sailed
awhile ago.
You?”

“No, I’m engaged, I suppose, though
there was no real proposal, not even a ring.”

“He’s probably wondering about you.”

“I doubt that. I’m not too certain he
wasn’t the one who planted the bomb!”

“Well, here,” he handed her his
phone. “Call your daddy and have him meet us at the dock. I’ll get the boat
turned around.”

He stood, breathed easier once he was
distanced from her. She watched him move as he neared the stairs, made her
twitch inside. God, what a man! He glanced back at her, caught her admiring his
butt. It seemed to irritate him; he climbed up to the deck.

“I guess I’m not his type,” Tierney
sighed.

They hovered around the marina until
Aram
and Betsy Evans showed up. Kiel
busied himself cleaning up the hull, Tierney helped him, trying not to let him
see how he was affecting her. She didn’t want to leave him. She wanted to know
him, in every way possible. To learn who he was and what he did, and how those
full lips would feel on her mouth, and just how deeply he would slide into her
if he had the chance. But he was stone cold, offering polite but vague answers
to her questions and avoiding her physically by at least two feet.

When
Aram
Evans’ Escalade Hybrid appeared
Tierney was reluctant to acknowledge it. She gave
Kiel
a hug in thanks, letting her body
linger against his until he stiffened, not in passion but from embarrassment.
She pulled away, looked at him one more time, trying to draw him upon her
memory then she hopped into the SUV and was shuttled off into the horizon.

“My God, Tierney!” her mother almost
shouted. “Why didn’t you call us right away? We were going out of our minds
with worry!”

“I’m sorry. I was mixed up, and
really scared. Wouldn’t you be if you knew someone had tried to kill you?”

“I can’t believe that. It must have
been a mistake.”

“Now Mom, how many red Ferrari
convertibles are there on my block? It was not a mistake!”

“You’re right,”
Aram
Evans stated in a solemn voice.

The women gasped in unison.

“
Aram
, you don’t mean it!”

“It’s true, Betsy. I’ve had threats
from some nasty people. I didn’t want anyone to know. The FBI has been trying
to track them down.”

“But who are they, Dad? And why are
they targeting me?’

“I’m not sure exactly who they are.
But I have received some ugly emails. The people involved seem to think I’ve
made my money under dubious circumstances. They talked about sweat shops in
China
, that sort of thing …”

“Did you?”

“Tierney …”

“No, Mom, I want to know.”

“It has come to my attention that
several of the factories that make our clothing are suspected of being sweat
shops. I was planning to fly over there, to see for myself, but the FBI warned
me against it.”

“Lovely,” Tierney sighed. She sat
back in her seat, quiet for the rest of the ride. Her thoughts kept traveling
back to
Kiel
Fortune. She wondered what he was
doing - if he’d gone to Baja or Catalina or just stayed there at the dock. She
imagined him taking a shower in that tiny bathroom, watched him in her fantasy
as he soaped up that firm, hairy chest and his lower parts too. She blew out
her breath, trying to quell an orgasm that was spreading through her. “I’ve got
to see him again,” she thought to herself. No one had ever made her feel the
way he did. Not
Istvan
or the two other supposed
fiancés she’d known in her young but busy life. And he hadn’t even kissed her.
But he would, he had to – no matter what she had to do to get him. She simply
had to know what it was like to kiss
Kiel
Fortune!

CHAPTER TWO

He was still thinking about her an
hour after she’d left, and damning himself for it. She was just a girl, one of
a million in LA who thought the world owed them something because they were
born rich. Sure, she was beautiful, who wouldn’t be with all that money at
their disposal for
botox
treatments, hair weaves,
liposuction, etc… Still, he knew she hadn’t used any of that junk. She was
naturally pretty and naturally blonde – one glance while her panties were down
was enough to prove that. He couldn’t get his mind off that either. It’d been
too long since he’d had a woman, and every cell in his body was letting him
know it.

He opened the fridge in the galley,
brought out a cold can of beer.

“Is that your answer to every
problem,
Kiel
?”

He turned; saw a tall gaunt man with
a regulation buzz cut standing on the stairs – Joe Smalley, his former partner
in the secretive CIA unit known as
Questor
.

“What of it?” he snapped then he
poured the smooth amber liquid down his parched throat.

“I’m glad I caught you before you
left.”

“Did Slater send you?”

“He did. He wants you back,
Kiel
. We all want you back. You’re our
best man for
intel
.”

“There are a dozen guys out there
better than me.”

“No, there isn’t. We need you.”

Kiel crushed the can, threw it into a
pile of others, making a metallic clank.

“I don’t need you, Joe. Can’t you get
that through your head? You guys shanghaied me when I was eighteen, straight
out of high school, for your filthy little techno unit. I did whatever you told
me to because my dad and mom had just died and I was numb. But over the years
I’ve come to hate every slimy, underhanded mission. I have to get away. It
killed Jeri, and our baby. If I don’t leave, sooner or later … probably sooner
… it’ll kill me, too.”

Smalley stepped down into the living
area. “We’ve told you before,
Kiel
… nobody leaves
Questor
… alive.”

Kiel
took another beer from the fridge;
popped the top.

“Don’t you realize I’m smart enough to
plan ahead? I’ve got copies of documents, all sorts of little goodies, on a
flash drive, just waiting with the right person. If I go missing or end up
floating face up in a gutter they’ll email those copies to every news agency in
the
US
!”

“We can find the person who has them,
you know that. We can make life a living hell for anybody who’s ever crossed
paths with you until the right one yells uncle. What’s the point in that? You
don’t want anyone else to be hurt because of you.”

“No, I don’t. The ‘right person’
isn’t really a person at all. It’s a program. And you can’t weed it out no
matter how you try. Give it up, and let me alone, Joe. All I want is a peaceful
place where I can hide away … and forget everything I did for the last fifteen
years!”

“I wish I could help you,
Kiel
. You’re like a brother to me. But
I’ve got orders.”

“I understand that, Joe; better than
you think I do. But I won’t go back. Tell Slater … tell him to go to Hell! And
you can get off my boat!”