by Raye Morgan
With a sigh, she started off. She was going to have to find out which.
The wet sand felt cold against her bare feet. The fog was rolling in fast, and there was no longer any evidence that a sun existed at all. She walked quickly around the old boat, eyeing the peeling paint and barnacles. No sign of Joe. She was going to have to walk under the pier.
She wrinkled her nose. The place was hardly inviting. Dark and dank and creaking, it smelled bad and looked worse. Shadows hid too many angles from view. Crabs scurried from one piling to another. Even the water had a scummy look.
Kelly paused, peering toward the beach, wondering where he could have gone. The fog was too thick to see far. She was going to have to walk through to the other side to really see anything. An eerie foghorn sounded off the shore, completing the strange ocean feel.
Wasn’t this the way most murder mysteries began?
She hesitated a moment longer. Did she really have to do this? Couldn’t she just go back the way she’d come? Anyone with any sense would be on her way already. But Kelly was still going. This was what she’d come for….
With another sigh, she stepped under the crumbling supports of the pier, walking quickly to get it over with. Each step took her farther from the light and sank her more deeply into the cold and clammy gloom. She tried to keep her attention on the hints of daylight ahead. Just a few more steps and she would be out….
When the hand came shooting out of nowhere and yanked her hood off her head, she gasped and stumbled in surprise. “So you are a girl,” a rough voice said. “What the hell do you want?”
The shock sent her reeling. She couldn’t scream, and her legs weren’t working right. She looked up frantically, her heart in her throat, trying to see who this was.
Joe Tanner, the man she’d been following? Or someone else, someone more sinister?
This wasn’t how she’d planned it. She wasn’t ready. She could hardly make him out in the gloom, and wasn’t sure if this was the man she had spun her theories about or not. Whoever he was, he was just too big and too overwhelming. Everything in her rebelled, and mindlessly, Kelly turned and ran toward daylight.
Although she felt as if she was screaming, she didn’t hear a sound. Only the crunch of sand under her feet, her breath coming fast, and finally, the grunt as he tackled her and threw her to the beach, his hard body coming down on top of hers.
A part of her felt complete outrage. How dare he do this to her?
Yet another part felt nothing but fear. The way the fog had closed in around them, she knew no one had seen what he’d done. She couldn’t hope for help from a passerby—not even a cell phone call to the police. It was as though they were in their own world. Jim’s warning flashed in her head: You don’t want to be alone with this guy when he realizes you’re studying him.
Her mind frantically searched for all the lost details of that women’s survival course she’d taken three years ago. Where were those pressure points again?
“Who are you?” His hand was bunched in the fabric of her sweatshirt. “Why are you tailing me?”
She sighed and closed her eyes for a few seconds, catching her breath. At least he hadn’t hurt her. For now, he wanted to talk, not wrestle. Straining to turn her head so that she could see around the edge of her hood, she looked at the man who had her pinned to the ground with the weight of his body, and she saw what she’d been hoping to see.
Yes, this was Joe Tanner. Relief flooded her and she began to relax, but then she remembered Jim’s warning again. Kelly was in an odd situation. She knew Joe had no right to treat her like this—but what was she going to do about it?
“Could you let me up?” she asked hopefully.
“Not until I know why you’ve got me staked out.”
“I don’t,” she protested, but her cheeks were flaming.
“Liar.”
He hadn’t hurt her and something told her he wasn’t going to. She began to calm down. Now the major emotion she was feeling was embarrassment. She should have handled this in a more professional manner. Here she was, lying on the beach with the subject of her investigation. Not cool. She hoped Jim and the others at the office never found out about it.
“You see, Kelly,” she could almost hear Jim saying, “I told you to leave these things to people who know what they’re doing.”
Of course, she always made the obvious argument. “How am I ever going to learn how to do this right if you never let me try?” But no one took her seriously.
So here she was, trying, and learning—and messing up a little bit. But she would get better. She gritted her teeth and promised herself that was what was happening here. She was getting better at this.
But she had to admit it wasn’t easy to keep her mind on business with this man’s incredible body pressed against hers, sending her pulse on a race. He was hard and smooth and golden—all things the perfect prince should be. Good thing she was covered from head to foot in sweatshirt material and denim, because he wasn’t covered with much at all.
“Come on,” he was saying now. “I want to know who put you up to this.” He sounded cold and angry and forceful enough to wipe out any thoughts of sensuality she might be dreaming up. “Who are you working for?”
“N-nobody.”
Which was technically true. Her office hadn’t authorized this investigation. She was strictly on her own.
“Liar,” he said again.
Reaching out, he pulled the hood all the way off her head, exposing her matted blonde curls. She turned her pretty face and large dark eyes his way and he frowned.
“What the hell?”
This young woman was hardly the battle-hardened little tough he’d expected. She was a greenhorn, no doubt about it. No one in his right mind would have sent her up against him.
A little alarm bell went off in the back of Joe’s mind, reminding him about lowering guards and being lulled into complacency. But even that seemed ridiculous in this case. She was too soft, too cute, too…amateur. His quick survey of her nicely rounded body as he’d brought her down had told him she wasn’t carrying a weapon, though she did have a couple of small, light objects in the front pockets of her sweatshirt.
He’d had plenty of experience in fighting off threats. He’d fought off hired guns, martial arts experts, Mata Hari types with vials of poison hidden in their bras. This little cutie didn’t fit into any of those categories. He would have staked his life on her being from outside that world of intrigue he’d swum in for years. So what the hell was she doing here?
“I’m not ‘tailing’ you and I don’t have you ‘staked out,’” she insisted breathlessly.
He raised one sleek eyebrow, looking her over.
“Then it must be love,” he said sarcastically. “Why else would you be mooning around after me for days at a time?”
Shocked at the very suggestion, even though she knew he was just making fun of her, she opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a strangled sound.
“Never mind,” he said in a kindly manner, though he was obviously still mocking her, and his mockery stung. “We’ll just stay here this way until you remember what the answer is.”
“To what?” she managed to choke out.
She tried to wriggle out from under him, but soon realized it was probably a mistake. She could see him better, but that only sent her nerves skittering like jumping beans on a hot plate.
He had hold of her sweatshirt and one strong leg was still thrown over hers. It was pretty clear he didn’t like being followed. He was angry and he wanted the truth. Nothing amorous about it.
Still, he was just a little too gorgeous for comfort. She wasn’t usually one to be tongue-tied, but being this close to him sent every sensible thought flying right out of her head. His huge blue eyes were gazing at her as though her skin were transparent and he could see everything—every thought, every feeling. She stared at him, spellbound, unable to move.
He began to look impatient.
“Let’s cut to the chase,” he said shortly. “I gave you your options. Pick one.”
She licked her dry lips and had to try twice before she got out an actual word or two. “I…I can’t.”
“Why not?” he demanded. “I want the truth.”
She shook her head, trying to clear it. What could she possibly say that he would understand at this point? All her explanations needed too much background. Despair began to creep into her thought processes.
“I have to get up,” she told him. “If you don’t release me, I’m going to get hysterical.”
“Be serious,” he scoffed. But then he looked at her a bit closer and what he saw seemed to convince him. Reluctantly, he rolled away.
“Women,” he muttered darkly, but he let her get up, and he rose as well.
She took a deep breath and steadied herself. At least they were out from under that awful pier. The fog hid the sun, but the sand was still warm here and that was a bit comforting.
She looked up at him. He was all tanned skin and muscles, with sand sprinkled everywhere, even on his golden eyelashes. For a moment she was dazzled, but she quickly frowned and brought herself back down to earth. This was no time to let attraction take over. She had work to do.
“What’s your name?” he demanded.
“Kelly Vrosis,” she responded.
He almost smiled. That answer had been so quick, so automatic, he had no doubt it really was her name. What was going on here? Didn’t she know she was supposed to lie about these things?
“Okay,” he said. “I was nice to you. Your turn.”
She opened her eyes wide, playing dumb. “What?” she asked, shaking her head as though she didn’t have a clue what he wanted from her.
He gave her a long-suffering look. “Okay, Kelly Vrosis. No more messing around. There are only three reasons people follow me. Some want information. Some want to stop me from doing something. But most want me dead.” He pinned her with a direct stare. “So which is it?”
CHAPTER TWO
KELLY SHOOK HER HEAD, feeling a touch of panic. “None of those. Honest.”
Joe’s hard face looked almost contemptuous. “Then what?”
She glanced up at him and swallowed hard. She’d had a cover story ready when she’d started this. It had seemed a good one at the time—something about thinking he was her college roommate’s brother—but now it just seemed lame. She had to admit this had turned out to be very different from what she’d expected or planned. Serious consequences loomed. This was scary.
“Uh, well…” she said, trying to buy time while she thought up something better. But then she stopped herself. There was no point in filling the air with nonsense just to give the impression she had something to say. He wasn’t going to buy it, anyway.
Things were happening too quickly. She needed a moment to reflect, to stand back and look at this man and make a judgment call. Was he or was he not the man she theorized he had to be?
She’d put all of her credibility on the line, coming to California and looking him up. Had she done something stupid? Or was she a genius?
Of course, she’d been crazy to get this close to him this early. She was on her own. If she got into trouble there would be no one to call.
Was she in trouble right now? Hard to tell. But it sure felt like it.
She looked him over. His blond-tipped hair was too long and sticking out at all angles. His skin was too tan. His body was too beautiful—and also too scarred to look at without wincing. He was barefoot and covered with sand. He didn’t look like any prince she’d ever seen before.
Was she crazy? What if she was completely wrong? How could she have put herself and her career out on a limb like this? Maybe she should just pull back and rethink this whole thing.
“I saw you writing in a notebook,” he said, moving toward her in a deliberate way that made her take a step backward. “It was about me, wasn’t it?”
“What? No…” But she knew her face revealed the truth.
His clear blue eyes challenged her. “I want to see it.”
Taking a deep breath, she tried for a bit of professionalism. She couldn’t just roll over for this man.
“You have no right to see it. It’s private property. My property.”
“If it’s about me, I think I have every right.”
“No, you don’t!”
“Hand it over.”
“No.”
“Never mind,” he said impatiently, reaching for her. “We’ll do it this way.”
She wasn’t certain what he had in mind, but was pretty sure she wasn’t going to like it. She took another quick step backward.
“Wait.” She put her hand to her mouth. “I think you chipped my tooth.”
His first reaction was skepticism and she didn’t blame him. It was a ploy, but she was desperate at this point.
“When?”
“When you tackled me.”
To her surprise, he actually began to look concerned. “Here, let me see.”
Moving forward and not giving her any room to maneuver, he took her face in his hands and looked down. This was a bit more than she’d bargained for. She wanted to protest, but after all, she’d set this up herself, hadn’t she? And she really did feel a sharp edge on one of her upper fronts. Now she had to go through with it to prove her point. Tentatively, she opened her mouth.
“Here.” She pointed at the place that felt sharp.
He leaned close, staring down. His hands were warm on her cheeks. His maleness overwhelmed her for a moment and she felt a bit light-headed. But his inspection didn’t last long. He touched the tooth, then pulled back.
“As far as I can see, no tooth was injured during my expertly executed preemptive strike.”
She gave him a look. “Cute,” she said, exploring again with her tongue. “It feels chipped to me.”
But while she was distracted, he was reaching to pull down the zipper of her sweatshirt, and that was another matter altogether.
“Hey,” she cried, trying to jump away from his reach. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Checking,” he said with calm confidence.
“Checking what?” She bristled with outrage.
“Don’t worry. I’ve seen it all before.” He gave her a sudden grin that just about knocked her backward on its own. “Just checking to see if you have a recorder on you. A bug. A mic.”
She moved quickly to protect the little microcassette recorder tucked in the front pocket of her sweatshirt, but his hand was already sliding in there.
“Ah-hah.” He pulled it out and waved it at her. “Just as I thought.”
“Hey,” she cried, truly indignant now, trying without success to snatch it back. “You can’t do this.”
He grinned again, eyes mocking as he dangled it just out of her reach. “Sue me.”
And while she stretched to try to claim it, his other hand shot forward into her other pocket and snagged her notebook and her tiny digital camera.
“Give me back my things,” she said, glaring at him, hands on her hips. A part of her was wincing, reminding her that she was reacting like any woman might, instead of like the intelligence agent she wanted to be. But she didn’t have time to consider that. She couldn’t let him do this!
“Okay now, this is just not fair.”
“Not fair?” He set her items on a rock and stood in front of them, so she knew she didn’t have a chance to grab them unless he let her. “Life ain’t fair, baby. Ya gotta learn to turn your lemons into lemonade.”
Despite his obviously experience based advice, she wasn’t ready to sign on to that attitude. She stuck her chin out and shot daggers at him with her eyes.
“You’re bigger than I am. You’re stronger than I am. You’ve got an unfair advantage. This isn’t a fair fight.”
He shrugged and took hold of the hood of her sweatshirt on either side of her face so she couldn’t escape, pulling her closer and gazing down into her eyes. Strange
ly, his look went from mocking to dreamy in less time than it took to think it. As she gazed into his blue eyes, he grazed her cheek with one palm, touching her as though he liked the feel of her skin.
“Who says we’re fighting?” he said, his voice suddenly low and sensual.
As humiliating as it was to know that he could turn her reactions on and off like a switch, she couldn’t seem to stop them. The seduction in his voice washed over her like a wave, turning her outrage into a sense of longing she’d never known before. All the blood seemed to drain from her head, and for a moment, she actually thought she was going to faint.
Kelly closed her eyes and summoned all her strength. Whatever was going on, she wouldn’t let it happen.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, trying to make her shaky voice firm as she looked at Joe again. “You think you can manipulate me like a puppy dog, don’t you?”
He dropped his hand from her face and gave her a pained look. “I see,” he said, turning from her. “What we’ve got here is a drama queen.”
She took a step after him. “Look, you’ve taken everything I brought with me. You proved you could do it.” She put out her hand. “So can I have them back now?”
He shook his head. “Not yet.” He hesitated, gazing at her speculatively. He’d already been through her sweatshirt pockets. All that was left were the pockets in her jeans. “What I’d like to see is some ID. Where’s your wallet?”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she repeated, backing away again. “You’re not coming anywhere near these pockets.”
His mouth twisted. “I suppose that would be going a step too far,” he said with obvious regret.
“Even for you,” she added. “Besides, you have no right to do any of this.”
He shrugged. “Okay. Come on back here and sit down.” He gestured toward the rock. “Let’s take a look at what you’ve found out about me.”
He was going to look through her research notes. She frowned, not sure what to do. If she didn’t have a real need to get along with him, she would certainly be treating this invasion of her space quite differently. In fact, she might be willing to swear out a warrant right now.
