The Boss Man's Fortune

by Kathryn Jensen -

  I loved him, she thought sadly. "Dunno," she said.

  "It's just not like him," Holly mused, sounding troubled. "He's not an easy boss, but he's always been fair."

  "There's a first time for everything," Katherine said.

  She thanked Holly for her help, and assured her she'd be fine. Then she called Execu-Temps and got herself a new job.

  * * *

  Katherine accepted a job working for a bank in the stockholder's department, typing correspondence and answering the phone. It was easier than working for Ian, but a lot less fun.

  Two weeks later, she had straightened out her identity with the temp agency and moved on to a clerical position with an insurance company. After three days they asked her if she was looking for something permanent. Sure, she said.

  Ian didn't call her or come to her apartment.

  She was glad, she told herself. Absolutely thrilled to be rid of a controlling, arrogant, bossy…

  Oh, hell, she thought, who are you kidding?

  She'd loved him. Still loved him. But there was a difference between loving a person who was good for you, she told herself, and loving a person who was not. She would just have to be strong and get over him. Somehow.

  * * *

  Ian looked the FBI agent in the eye and asked, "Are you sure it was her?"

  "Yes, sir." The man leaned forward in the chair opposite him. The agent had shown up late that afternoon with troubling news about the cartel's activities. "They've been keeping a low profile, but two of their men have been following the woman who was your assistant. Katherine Fortune, is it?"

  "Yes." Katherine. It hurt just to hear her name again. "You're sure they're connected with the cartel? Her family has been after her to come home, but I thought that was all settled."

  "We don't make mistakes like that," the agent said dryly, then cleared his throat. "I guess you fired her? Mind telling me why?"

  "I didn't fire her, I just asked for a replacement for personal reasons."

  The agent nodded. "Personal reasons." He wrote something in his notebook. "It's possible the cartel believes she's still connected with you in some way. Perhaps these personal reasons?"

  There was no doubt in his mind what the man was implying. "There might have been a time," Ian said. "But there's nothing between us now."

  "I see." The agent nodded. "But the question is, do they know that? It's our theory the cartel might try to use someone in or close to your family to get to you."

  Terror sliced, razor sharp, through Ian. "You think she's in imminent danger?"

  "We'd rather be cautious at this point. Is there any way you might influence her to leave town for a while? Go somewhere she might be safe?"

  Ian raked his fingers through his hair. There wasn't a chance he could talk Katherine into doing anything now, he thought grimly. She probably wouldn't even take a call from him.

  Even if he called Dennis, and her family contacted her, she might refuse to leave Savannah on the grounds they were bossing her around again.

  Stubborn, stubborn woman.

  Her green eyes and sweet face appeared before him. His heart soared, then just as quickly, plummeted. He'd lost her through his own fault. Worse yet, no matter how many times he'd told himself that he was over her, he wasn't.

  "Mr. Danforth?" the agent said. "Can you help us out here?"

  Ian looked up out of his misery, and in that moment a solution for at least one problem came to him. "I think I have a plan."

  * * *

  Katherine walked down the street, past the Danforth Building, making a point of not looking at its gracious facade or the distinctive D&D insignia she'd so often admired, scrolled across the doors. The time she'd worked behind those doors had been the most exciting weeks of her life.

  But she wouldn't think about that now. It was over. The job. Ian. It was all over.

  The spring morning was gorgeous, and she wouldn't let mooning over a man spoil it for her. She'd left early for work so the sidewalks weren't at all crowded. She enjoyed feeling as if the city was hers alone.

  She crossed Congress Street

  , checked out a wonderfully jaunty hat in a display window. But as soon as she started to walk again, she sensed a car moving slowly along the street as if it was pacing her. She intentionally stopped and turned to look in a jewelry-store window, hoping the vehicle would keep on going. All the talk about cartels and bombs in weeks past was evidently playing tricks with her imagination.

  The sapphire bracelet resting on a white velvet cushion was lovely, but her nerves suddenly pricked at the sound of a car door opening. Reflected in the plate glass, a tall figure came up behind her.

  She bolted. Strong fingers wrapped around her arm. "Come with me," a deep voice said. "Now."

  With a gasp, she spun around, ready to scream. But the cry died in her throat and all that came out was a whimper of surprise and irritation at the sight of Ian.

  Katherine glared at him. "You scared me half to death." She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip.

  "You're in danger. I'm taking you someplace safe."

  She laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. I have a job and I'm going there now. Let me go. And don't bother calling. I won't even listen to your messages."

  "That's why we have to do this my way," he growled.

  "You just don't listen, do you?" She tried jamming her fists down on her hips in a show of defiance, but he wouldn't let go of her arm. "Ian, manhandling a woman is no way to convince her to stay with him. I'm my own w—"

  He pulled her roughly to him, kissed her firmly on the mouth then heaved her over one shoulder much as she imagined he would have a sack of coffee beans.

  "Put me down!" she screamed.

  The few people on the street stared at them, as though unsure what to do.

  "Lover's quarrel," Ian mumbled cheerfully at a couple walking past. "She adores makeup sex."

  The man laughed, but the woman didn't look reassured.

  Ian dumped her into the driver's seat of his car and climbed in after, shoving her over with his hip. The car's engine was idling.

  He hit the child safety lock before she could reach for the door latch. "Uh-uh," he cautioned, immediately pulling into traffic. "You don't want to throw yourself out the door of a moving vehicle. Only in movies do people get up and walk away."

  Katherine pressed her back against the black leather seat, arms across her chest, and glowered at him. "I hate you."

  "No, you don't."

  "What do I have to do to prove that I don't want my life run by parents, brothers, a boyfriend or husband?"

  "Have you considered the option of having no life at all?"

  He was watching the traffic ahead. She couldn't see his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

  "The FBI says you're being followed, and they're pretty sure your shadows are cartel thugs."

  "Following me? Why? I have no influence over Danforth business policies."

  "No, but they must think you and I—"

  "Oh, please—"

  "Shut up and listen to me," he ground out. "You saw the way Hernandez looked at you that day in my office. He figured you were my mistress."

  She started to object, but he reached out and grasped her hand, gave it a warning squeeze. "These people are desperate, Katherine. They might try to use you to leverage me into a decision in their favor."

  She went limp and slid down into the car seat as they sped out of the city. "So why didn't the FBI just warn me?" she asked, her throat suddenly hot and tight.

  "Because, for now, that's all they could do. They don't have enough manpower to provide round-the-clock surveillance for everyone in my family, and you, as well. And I'm not convinced that just watching and waiting is the answer."

  She cast him a dubious glance. "So what is?"

  "We're going to disappear for a while."

  She could feel her anger swell again. But a voice from somewhere inside whispered that maybe, this once, his efforts to prot
ect her might be justified. Even if kidnapping seemed a bit extreme.

  "You said we. You're staying with me?"

  He nodded.

  "What about your work?"

  "My laptop's in the trunk. All I need is a phone line to plug into. I'll retrieve my office e-mail and I can handle anything critical from a remote location."

  "And my job?"

  "Holly was able to track down your current employer. I've already called and left a message that you're sick and will be out for a few days."

  "My family might worry."

  "I have their blessing, per Dennis."

  She sighed. "Sounds like you've thought of everything."

  "I try." She could hear a note of satisfaction in his voice. The consummate manager.

  Katherine couldn't help letting out a frustrated shriek.

  "What?" he said.

  "No matter what I do, I just can't seem to get my life running in a direction I want it to go."

  He turned his head to look at her as he took an exit off the highway through a low-country glade. "A lot of people feel that way. Believe me, I don't want to take away your freedom, Katherine. I never wanted that. After this is over, if you never want to see me again, I'll respect your wishes. But I can't let them hurt you. It's because of me you've become a target."

  She looked deeply into his eyes and could see that he meant what he'd said. It wasn't power over her that he wanted. He was all about doing the honorable thing. He saw her, for the moment, as his responsibility. He cared what happened to her. It was that simple.

  "All right," she said, finally letting down her defenses, "so where are we disappearing to?"

  * * *

  Tybee Island wasn't far from the glamorous city of Savannah. But there were pockets of secluded marshland and cottages off the beaten track taken by locals and tourists headed for Tybee's popular beaches. It would be difficult to find a person who didn't wish to be found, even if someone knew that's where they were headed. Besides, the cartel was looking for someone named Katie O'Brien, and she was safely in London—making Ian and Katherine's job of disappearing that much easier.

  The cabin, as Ian remembered it from a rare hunting excursion with his father, was a rustic, one-room affair, kept well-stocked with food and spare clothing on the chance one of the boys would drop in for a weekend of duck hunting. The key, Ian knew, would be under the porch.

  Ian led Katherine down a grassy hillside to an inlet off the bay, patches of water glistening in the sun where cattails and sea grasses hadn't filled in. A canoe had been pulled up onto the shore—an invitation to explore this watery world. An elegant great blue heron stood, matchstick-thin legs deep in brackish water, stoically eyeing the rippling surface for signs of prey—a slow-swimming minnow, a careless frog.

  Katherine froze, watching the immense bird, her expression absorbed.

  Ian stepped closer to her. "Are you all right?"

  "Better than all right," she murmured. "This is beautiful." She turned to face him. "You can kidnap me anytime."

  He guessed she didn't mean anything by it, just a comment to break the last strands of tension between them. But something about the way she leaned a little closer to him tugged at his heartstrings, and he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her head. He was ready to release her the instant she objected. She didn't.

  When she looked up at him, her eyes were brimming with emotion. He couldn't help himself. He kissed her deeply, long and hard.

  "I've missed you," he whispered.

  "Me, too." She shook her head then pressed her cheek to his chest. "I wish this were simpler."

  "The complications over the cartel?"

  "No, us."

  His heart stopped, then kicked into high gear. Was there a chance? What was she trying to tell him? He swallowed, sensing that every word he spoke now was important. Desperately he searched for the right ones.

  "Maybe we've made things more difficult than they need to be."

  "You think?" Her eyes shone, liquid emeralds.

  "Maybe." He kissed the bridge of her nose, her forehead, an auburn curl that toppled over it. "I'm sorry I've handled things so autocratically. I don't mean to do that—boss you around, make decisions for you. It's just that it's my father's way. As much as I hated him pulling rank while I was growing up, I suppose I've inherited some of his tactics. I never intended to hurt you, or rob you of your independence."

  She thought for a moment. "I suppose that's the way it is in my family, too."

  "How's that?"

  She shrugged, wrapping her arms around him to pull him even closer, although they were already chest to chest. "The men see it as their duty to protect their women. And we women either succumb to the paternal order, or rebel. I'm one of those who had to rebel."

  He chuckled, giving her a squeeze. "So I've discovered."

  Katherine turned her head to one side so that she wouldn't have to pull away to see his face. "Ian?"

  "Yes."

  "Is there still room for compromise?"

  "With your family?"

  "With us."

  He felt as if he'd been holding his breath for days. No, weeks. Knowing Katherine Fortune was like watching a movie, trying to guess the ending, and always being surprised no matter how many times you saw the film. She kept changing the last scene!

  Perhaps every couple faced a moment in their relationship when an invisible line was drawn by fate. Words were said, mistakes made. Once you crossed over, you could never cross back. He had let her down in ways he hadn't understood but were vital to her.

  But now … now he wondered about second chances.

  Slowly he lifted her chin and gazed into her misty green eyes. "I was terrified you'd never let me get close to you again."

  She smiled and, incongruously, tears spilled over. "I was terrified I wouldn't have the strength to walk away from you, if you couldn't see clear to letting me be me."

  His heart leaped with new hope. She was opening a door for him. He lifted her fingertips to his lips. "If you weren't you, I wouldn't love you." And he saw something wonderful light up in her eyes.

  "Let's talk. Really talk," she whispered.

  * * *

  Eleven

  « ^

  The hard parts they handled out on the water. Gliding across the smooth surface of a cove, sheltered by tall cattails and ancient cypress, they paddled the canoe and emptied their souls. Out in the middle of the marsh it was impossible for either one of them to walk away in a heated moment.

  Katherine knelt up front with her paddle, while Ian sat in the carved-out seat behind her with his. At first the coordination of paddling was as tricky as maneuvering through the pitfalls of their conversation. Sometimes she wanted to move the sleek yellow hull in one direction, and he paddled at a different angle, so that they ended up at a destination neither of them had intended.

  And sometimes their discussions sank to the level of frustrated paddle slapping on the water, resulting in wet clothing, tears, or pauses to hold each other, kiss and reassure.

  They agreed on one rule. Silence wasn't an option. They must keep talking, keep on sharing whatever they felt or needed or believed in. After the third day of navigating through each other's emotional highs and lows, and the mazelike brine marsh, they discovered they agreed more often than disagreed.

  And they made love whenever they liked, which was often. In the morning before a breakfast of French toast, maple syrup and spicy sausages. In the afternoon following hours of rowing, counting swans, geese and birds neither could identify. At night to the accompanying gentle hoots of owls.

  Katherine and Ian made love. They healed. They became one.

  * * *

  On their fifth day in the Tybee Island cabin, Ian sat on the edge of their bed and retrieved messages from his office. When he shut off his cell phone and turned to face Katherine, he was smiling. "The FBI picked up the two men who were shadowing you. They were illegal aliens from Colombia and are being deported." S
he gave an exultant shriek, and he took her in his arms and fell back against the pillows. "It's safe to go home," he said.

  Yet she wasn't sure she wanted to go back to Savannah. Why leave paradise? Except that the real world couldn't be put off forever. "Back to my job at the bank," she murmured, and looked up at him.

  "Unless you'd rather come back to Danforth's," he said.

  "In a heartbeat!" she cried, then thought about all they'd discussed. "I agree with you, though, I'm not sure it's best that I continue working as your EA."

  He looked relieved. "You're good with people."

  "Yes." This was something she'd only recently learned, and it pleased her, this talent she hadn't known was hers.

  "You like Holly?" he asked.

  "I do, and she's been really nice to me."

  "Think you could work with her?"

  Katherine pushed herself up out of the nest of bedclothes to look at him. "You mean, in Personnel? She'd be my boss?"

  "How do you feel about that?" It was a phrase he was learning to use more often in their conversations.

  "I like it. I didn't know there was an opening."

  "Holly left me an update on job openings. Of course, that doesn't mean you'd have to stay there forever. It's a good entry-level position that might prepare you for supervisory jobs, and eventually an executive position, if that's what you want."

  She grinned. "I'll take it!"

  "I'll call and tell Holly it's filled then."

  "Speaking of filling…" she said, wiggling her bottom into an inviting portion of his anatomy.

  He rolled his eyes dramatically. "My work is never done."

  "Shut up and just—" Kiss me, she thought, as he covered her mouth with his. And in a moment he was right where she wanted him.

  * * *

  The next day they returned to Savannah. The car was packed by ten in the morning, and Katie closed the door of the little cabin with a reluctant sigh.

  "Mixed feelings?" Ian asked.

  "I'm looking forward to my new job, but I'll miss this little place."

  "We can come back," he offered. "As often as you like." He seemed to hesitate. "There's one more thing I have to do before we leave." His expression was serious, and her nerves prickled in warning.