Bride of Fortune Page 4

  Adele’s stomach gave an odd flip at the thought. The strange feeling of longing surprised her. Was this some long-buried wish? It completely went against her code of self-reliance. From a very young age, she had learned she was in charge of protecting herself.

  The idea, however, of having someone who cared about her health and well-being enough to look out for her struck at a soft, vulnerable spot inside her that she hadn’t even known existed.

  Adele frowned, wondering why Jason was affecting her so much. He seemed to have a knack for shaking up her natural order. He was just a man, she reminded herself. Sure, he was intelligent, charismatic and impressive, but he was just a man. Why did he seem more than that to her?

  The tap on her window startled her. Adele glanced around and found Jason beside her car. Her heart tripped, and she took a deep breath to collect herself. Grabbing her leather briefcase, she unlocked the door, but he pulled it open.

  “I’ll walk you to your office,” he said.

  “I would think that Fortune’s vice president of marketing might have more important things to do,” she said gently.

  He cocked his head to one side, looking at her in a considering way. “I believe you could be very important to the Fortunes.”

  Adele’s stomach dipped. She couldn’t tell if he was speaking personally or professionally.

  He lifted his thumb to her cheek, and she froze. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  His face was so close she could have counted his black eyelashes. He was close enough to kiss.

  “You have a smudge from your angel-of-mercy duty,” he said, then touched a strand of her hair escaping the upsweep she’d attempted this morning. “I like your hair better down.”

  “I wear my hair to suit me.”

  He tugged lightly at the strand, the barest seductive grin crossing his face. “I wonder what I could do to get you to wear your hair for me,” he said. “Good question. Maybe we’ll answer it another time.”

  He gently pressed his hand against her back and guided her toward the building. “After you get settled in, I’ll introduce you to the attorney who will also serve on the ethics committee.”

  As they walked into the lush lobby adorned with Native American art and photos of beautiful buildings, Adele noticed heads turn toward Jason and people call out his name.

  “What do you know about this attorney?” she asked as they headed for the elevators.

  “Attorneys are a necessary evil. A project the scope of the Children’s Hospital must be protected. The hospital won’t be able to serve the community if it’s not protected. That’s what this attorney’s duty is.” They entered the elevator and he punched a button. “Something tells me hospital attorneys are not your favorite.”

  “You’re right,” she admitted. “But I agree with you that the institutions must be protected if they’re going to serve and serve well. I’ve learned when I work with attorneys if I shift the focus away from what can not be done to how to do what needs to be done, we accomplish more.”

  “All in the questions,” he said with a glint of mystery in his eyes.

  “Yes,” she agreed, but wondered what he was thinking. The man made her insatiably curious. He was both a puzzle and playground to her, and she struggled with the desire to explore him in every possible way.

  He led her to her office and introduced her to a half dozen people along the way. Adele could see that he was respected and well liked. From her experience in the corporate hospital setting, she knew that combination wasn’t easily achieved.

  After a few more minutes, he glanced at his watch. “I have a conference call in a few minutes, then some brief meetings. The attorney will arrive at eleven o’clock. My office is on the top floor.”

  “I’ll be there at eleven. Thank you for showing me to my office.”

  He nodded. “My pleasure. What time shall I pick you up tonight for dinner?”

  Adele’s tongue wrapped itself into a knot. “I, uh—” she cleared her throat “—I decided it would be best not to join you tonight.”

  He watched her in silence, reminding her yet again of a lion, predatory, powerful, yet protective. He walked closer to her. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

  She opened her mouth to say no, but her mouth refused to form the word. “A little,” she finally conceded in a low voice.

  He nodded. “You make me a little uncomfortable, too,” he told her, cocking his head to one side. “You disrupt me.”

  Relief swept through her. “Which means we should keep our relationship professional.”

  He shook his head. “That would be cowardly.”

  “Wise,” she corrected, fighting a drop of panic. “Prudent, sane, sane,” she repeated because Jason made her feel the exact opposite.

  He shook his head again. “Cowardly. I’m curious about a woman with fire in her hair and eyes who changes tires for elderly strangers and fights for children. I think you’re curious about me.”

  Adele bit her tongue, refusing to agree or disagree. She was tempted to plead the Fifth, but even that would have revealed too much.

  “The invitation to dinner is open. You have my number. You can call anytime before six-thirty. I’ll see you in a while for the meeting with the attorney,” he said, and walked out of her office.

  Adele sank onto the edge of her desk. “Oh, wow,” she whispered. She was definitely out of her league. She hated the idea of being cowardly, and Jason was probably smart enough to know that. Yet he wasn’t forcing the issue, just leaving the door to temptation wide open.

  Adele wrung her hands and began to pace. Jason might be curious about her, but his curiosity would pass. She was certain she wasn’t the kind of woman to hold his attention. She was either too much or not enough, but she knew she would never be a keeper for him. He would satisfy his curiosity, burn through her like a forest fire, then leave her scorched and charred.

  She didn’t like her choices in this situation. She would either have to be cowardly or prove to Jason that she was boring.

  The lure hadn’t worked. Jason glanced at his watch—6 p.m. He squelched the urge to insist that Adele join him for dinner. With the exception of his daughter, he couldn’t recall an occasion where he’d found it necessary to insist with a female. He was accustomed to getting what he wanted when he wanted it.

  “You’re distracted,” his father said to him. “Are you concerned about the Viceroy bid?”

  Jason looked up to meet his father’s gaze. “Not at all,” he said, referring to the potential contract for a building for the largest law firm in eastern Arizona. “We’re the best choice to give them what they want. I’ll have that closed within two weeks.”

  Jason’s father’s hair was streaked with silver, his face chiseled with the same proud bone structure of his Papago mother, Natasha. Jason knew his father, Devlin, had weathered the slur of illegitimacy for several years before the Fortunes had embraced him and his brother Hunter. Together the two men had built Fortune Construction Company into a worldwide enterprise. Devlin inspired Jason’s full respect if not always his agreement.

  Devlin walked behind Jason and patted his shoulder. “You are an excellent hunter,” Devlin said. “You’re so smart about it most do not even know they are being hunted.”

  “I want them happy to be caught, so they’ll continue to give Fortune Construction good recommendations.” He glanced up at his father and saw mild amusement on his face.

  “Your way with women is the exact opposite of your brother’s,” Devlin mused.

  “I don’t have a way with women,” Jason said dryly, glancing at his watch. Adele wasn’t budging.

  “You haven’t done much hunting with women. They come to you. Some women are easily seduced, but a prize requires patience.”

  “Mother talked to you,” Jason concluded.

  “Your mother always talks to me.”

  “About Adele O’Neil,” Jason clarified.

  “It’s good for you to lose your indiffere
nce for a woman,” Devlin said. “It’s good that a woman can still make you feel.”

  Jason thought about Adele and felt impatient. He’d learned long ago there was only one way to take care of unanswered questions, and that was to do what it took to answer them. He would satisfy his curiosity about Adele. She might be under her skin, but he would allow her no deeper. “I won’t be disrupted long,” he promised, but he noticed when his watch turned 6:31.

  Two days later Adele rubbed her finger over the cream-colored note card embossed with Jason Fortune’s initials. It was the second note card she’d received from him.

  Adele,

  Are you enjoying your evenings in Pueblo? You are invited to dinner. My daughter will protect you if you are afraid. Call by 6:30 p.m.—Jason

  She scowled. Although she’d successfully eluded Jason’s invitations, she’d been bored out of her gourd. The comment about his daughter was low. It was 6:20, and she hadn’t called him, but Adele found herself vacillating. What was she afraid of? She was curious about him, she admitted to herself. Perhaps seeing him in his home environment would eliminate his mystique, and then she could get past her heart palpitations and short breath every time he looked at her.

  She glared at the card, willing it to give her an answer. Silly, she thought, and set it aside. She stuffed some professional journals in her briefcase and snapped it closed.

  The clock taunted her—6:28.

  Four

  Adele rang the doorbell to the expansive Southwestern-style ranch home of Jason Fortune. Since it was Friday, she’d been told he and Lisa often escaped from their in-town home at Saguaro Springs to the ranch outside of Pueblo. Adele noted the distance between neighbors and thought the wide-open space suited Jason. He struck her as a man who immersed himself in his work and the community, but who also craved privacy.

  She rang the doorbell again. When there was no answer, she found the door unlocked and stepped inside. Quickly taking in the comfortable surroundings of his home, she reminded herself she was here to get over her fascination with Jason. Hopefully there were many things not to like about him. She just had to find them.

  “Too confident,” she muttered to herself as she walked toward the back of the house. “Too handsome for his good and mine. Too controlled, too self-contained—”

  She broke off her litany at the sight before her in the backyard. Jason, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, stood beside a basket of softballs he pitched to a raven-haired little girl holding a bat and concentrating for all she was worth.

  The intensity between them grabbed at Adele’s heart. Heavens, what Adele would have given as a child just to know her father, let alone practice batting with him.

  “Pitch, Daddy!” the little girl called.

  Adele smiled at the impatience in her voice and watched as she hit a foul ball. “Good try,” Jason told her, but she obviously wasn’t satisfied.

  Jason’s daughter scowled and kicked at home plate. “Again,” she yelled.

  “Eye on the ball,” Jason coached, and pitched a slow ball.

  Jason’s daughter whacked a grounder that whizzed through the clumps of desert grass and cacti in the backyard. The girl’s face lit up and she hopped up and down. Jason gave a thumbs-up. “Great job.”

  Reluctant to interrupt, Adele watched several moments longer, drinking in the obvious affection between the two of them. Laughter, a little teasing, a lot of encouragement and a solid bond emanated from everything they said and did.

  Jason had helped shape a daughter who possessed his confidence and who had every reason to believe she was loved and lovable. Her heart squeezed tight. She wondered if either of them had any idea how precious that was.

  Adele saw Jason glance at his watch, then at the house. He narrowed his eyes as he gazed at the doorway where she stood. Oops, she’d been caught. Watching him walk toward her, she opened the door and stepped outside.

  “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough,” Adele said with a smile, “to see someone working on Mark McGuire’s record. She’s terrific.”

  “I know,” Jason said, then added wryly, “so does she.”

  “That’s not all bad,” Adele said.

  “I know. It’s just disconcerting when she seems to have the wisdom of a forty-year-old.”

  “Well, you know what they say,” Adele told him. “Out of the mouths of babes, and as your daughter becomes a teenager I’m sure there’ll be plenty of guys who will call her a babe.”

  Jason groaned. “Thanks for the words of comfort. Lisa,” he called. “Come meet our dinner guest.”

  Lisa ran to the back porch and gazed at Adele curiously. “Are you the lady who is helping with the rules for the hospital?”

  Adele smiled at how Jason had explained her job. “Yes, I am. My name is Adele O’Neil. You’re a good hitter.”

  “I’m gonna get better,” Lisa said.

  “From the way you’re practicing, I can tell you are.”

  Jason pushed open the door. “Let’s get dinner. The housekeeper left a casserole in the oven.”

  “I hope it’s nothing gross,” Lisa said.

  “Picky eater,” Jason murmured to Adele as Lisa skipped in front of them.

  Lisa lucked out. Tonight’s fare was spaghetti pie. After dinner, the youngster was allowed to watch one television show before bedtime. While Lisa sat on the floor of the den, Jason joined Adele on the couch.

  “You’re still wearing your clothes from work,” he said.

  Adele nodded. “I didn’t decide to come until late.”

  His lips quirked slightly upward. “It was 6:29. Has the evening been as much torture as you expected?”

  She tossed him a sideways glance. “Not yet. This wasn’t about torture,” she said, although his closeness bothered her. “It was about being wise.”

  His amber gaze was intent. “What made you change your mind?”

  Insanity. “I partially agree with you. Eliminate the curiosity and you eliminate the fascination.” She prayed this was true. “Right?”

  He nodded, his gaze falling to her lips, and Adele felt her mouth burn in response.

  “Unless answering questions leads to more curiosity,” he told her.

  Heaven help her if it did.

  Adele cleared her throat and glanced away from him. “I like your home. I bet you love being able to get away.”

  “My father says my two homes, just as his two homes, are a throwback to our ancestors’ two-village way of life.”

  “And what do you say?”

  “It’s possible. All I know is I like the space.” He paused. “I don’t bring a lot of women around my daughter.”

  Adele’s heart skipped a beat. “Why me, then?”

  He gave a low chuckle. “Well, it’s obvious you’re not clamoring for a permanent personal position in my life.”

  Realization struck her, and she couldn’t resist teasing him. “Oh, it must be a terrible burden dealing with all those Mrs. Jason Fortune wannabes. How do you do it?”

  His gaze dropped to her lips. “Did anyone ever tell you that you have a very smart mouth?”

  The phone rang and Jason answered it, providing her with an opportunity to breathe normally. Lisa’s television show ended, and Jason motioned for her to get ready for bed. When the call extended past tooth-brushing time, he covered the receiver and said, “Crisis with one of our large accounts in the Midwest. I’ll be a few more minutes.”

  Lisa, dressed in a white cotton nightgown that made her look like an angel, looked at Adele. “You want to read a book with me?”

  Surprised and touched by the request, Adele nodded and allowed Lisa to lead her down the hall. “Sure.”

  “I’m too big to have Daddy do all the reading, so we take turns,” she said as she climbed into her white four-poster bed. “You read a page, then I read a page. This is a book about a little girl named Junie B. Jones. She’s very funny and she gets into a lot of trouble.”

  A
dele joined Lisa on the bed and took in the way the decor combined femininity and pride in her Native American culture. Stuffed bears with pink ribbons and lace sat on a shelf next to a woven basket. Just as Lisa had suggested, they shared the reading of the entertaining book and were quickly finished. Lisa immediately turned her attention to Adele and hit her with a barrage of questions.

  “Where did you live before you came to Pueblo?” Lisa asked.

  “Minnesota,” Adele said, tucking the covers around the child.

  “What’s it like there?”

  “Much colder, wetter and very green. It’s January so it’s probably snowing.”

  Lisa touched a strand of Adele’s hair. “Is it real?”

  Adele raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean real?”

  “One time Daddy went out with a lady and her hair was blond, but it wasn’t real.”

  “Oh,” Adele said, amused, thinking that must’ve inspired an interesting conversation. “Mine is real.”

  “How long is it?”

  “A little longer than my shoulders.”

  Lisa sat up. “Can I see it?”

  Disconcerted, Adele paused. Like father, like daughter? She relented, releasing her hair.

  Lisa’s eyes widened. “It’s curly. Are they real, too?”

  “Very,” Adele said wryly. “I have done everything including ironing my hair to get rid of the curl, and now I’ve given up.”

  Lisa cocked her head to one side. “You’re a lot different from the other ladies my daddy dates.”

  Adele pictured a string of cool, sophisticated, willowy blondes. “That doesn’t surprise me,” she said dryly.

  Lisa leaned forward, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Do you think my daddy is a hottie?”

  A hottie? Jason watched the exchange between Adele and his daughter from the doorway. He noticed Adele’s hair hung in curly disarray to her shoulders. It looked as if his daughter was making better progress than he had. If he were a compassionate man, he would save Adele from the situation, but he wasn’t feeling overly compassionate at the moment. He was curious.