Chapter 1

Kiana Harris lay on one of the lounge chairs that were scattered around the pool. A few yards away, a couple of gardeners were busily pruning one of the several palm trees that were on the estate’s property.

Yes, the Harris’s were wealthy, mostly due to her husband Walter’s business savvy in the financial markets. He had worked hard to get to the position and financial status that he had achieved, and Kiana had managed to land herself a really good catch in him. He wanted the best for them both and now because of his hard work, they enjoyed a lavish lifestyle.

Kiana was a very beautiful Malaysian woman and model who had made a name for herself in the fashion world. Walter had a penchant for exotic women and when he found Kiana, it was a perfect match.

Perfect, that is, except for one small detail. While Walter had his work to keep him occupied, the life of a model was a sporadic one – short periods of frenzied travel and photo shoots, followed by longer periods of waiting for her agent to call with her next assignment.

She was currently on one of these long waiting periods ... actually, this one was longer than most, and she was beginning to get a bit tired of hanging around the house. She wanted to get back to work, to travel to some glamorous location and work with some of the other models and photographers that she had been on other locations with.

And there was another reason why Kiana needed to get busy again too. You see, Kiana had one small character flaw, a vice if you will. She was a bit of a nymphomaniac. Not a counseling three times a week in a psychiatrist’s office nympho, but she really loved sex. And a bored woman like her left alone all day is going to get into trouble eventually!

And so it was this day. It was a warm day out and with nothing better to do, she thought she’d sit out by the pool and read a little while working on her tan. She didn’t pay much attention to the gardeners working a short distance away from her – actually, she never paid much attention to the “hired help” to be honest.

Kiana was conceited and narcissistic, as many models are, and felt she lived a higher plane of existence than the common people. But she took it to higher levels than the average egotistical fashion model. And so while she lounged poolside in her Maryan Mehlhorn designer bikini, black open-weave Sophie Anderson designer sunhat, and black Prada open-toe pumps, the landscapers did their best not to disturb the lady of the mansion.

These workers knew all about Kiana Harris. She was well-known to the repairmen, contractors, and service people for her overly-critical standards and her temper if they weren’t met in a timely manner. And no one wanted to be the poor sap that had to explain why something wasn’t done to her liking or timetable!

Walter Harris wasn’t without his faults either. A high-energy purpose-driven man, he had worked hard to reach a certain comfort level in life. He learned long ago that there were two kinds of people in this world, those that could further his plans and goals, and those that he would run over to reach them. And woe be to anyone who happened to fall in the latter category!

In addition to his ruthless drive to succeed at all costs, Walter also gave new meaning to “insanely jealous and possessive”, especially when it came to Kiana. He would get mad if another man so much as said a word to her, no matter how innocent. And if the man dared strike up a conversation with her, Walter would launch into a tirade that would have everyone in the room looking for cover!

On this particular summer day, his “green-eyed monster” would be tested like never before. Kiana was relaxing with her eyes closed behind her sunglasses, enjoying the sun’s warmth on her copper skin. All of a sudden her peace and tranquility was shattered by the bellowing of an enraged man.

“What in the blue blazes are you doing out here looking like that?” he yelled. “Don’t you see those men over there leering at you? Go inside and put on something decent dammit, I don’t want you out here acting like some high priced whore!” He pointed to the house as he yelled at her.

“I wasn’t doing anything but sitting here working on my suntan!” she retorted, “Those men haven’t said one word to me or even one word that I have heard! Honestly, Walter, you need to see someone about this jealousy thing you have, it isn’t healthy to get so worked up over nothing!”

“You heard what I said. I don’t want you out here dressed like that when there are men working. I know men and I know what they are thinking. They may be over there pruning the trees, but their minds are mentally undressing you and wondering if those tits are real and how tight that ass of yours is! Now I am off to work ... when these men are finished and leave you can come out and suntan to your heart’s content. But until then I want you to stay inside, understand?” he said.

Kiana got up and stormed off toward the house. She was mad at him – furious even, no question about it. But she knew that getting into a pissing contest with him was a waste of time and energy. When Walter’s mind was set on something, nothing on heaven or earth would sway him. She went into the house, slamming the door, and plopped down indignant on the living room sofa.

She hated to be told what to do by anyone, including Walter, and the more she thought about it, the madder she got. How DARE he talk to her like that! He was the one who was chasing after her when they met, after all. It was she that agreed to start dating him, he should consider himself lucky to have her. And to talk to her now like she was some kind of errant child ... well that was just incomprehensible!

Kiana puttered around the house trying to occupy her time until the landscapers were finished and she could “go outside to play”. She wrote a few emails and did a little online shopping at her favorite upscale clothing stores. If Walter was going to keep her locked inside like this, it would cost him!

A couple of hours later there was a knock on the door. With the maid at the other end of the mansion doing laundry, she wouldn’t have heard the knock so Kiana answered the door herself. It turned out to be the younger of the two landscapers.

“Ma’am, I just wanted to let you know we are done pruning your trees. We will be coming back tomorrow to start on the hedges and topiaries if that’s okay with you,” he said.

Kiana looked the guy over as he talked. He was a scruffy, unkempt man, very common looking, dressed in raggedy jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and workman’s boots. He looked quite out-of-place in her elegantly decorated home ... like a riverboat would at their yacht club or a homeless man at the country club.

Still seething from the insult she was subjected to earlier, her mind came up with a perfectly delicious way to even the score with her husband. He was so all-fired concerned about these workmen seeing her in her bathing suit, she would give this young man a REAL eyeful!

“What’s your name young man?” she asked him.

“Uh, Rick Ma’am,” he said. Her question caught him off-guard. Rick and his company had been doing work on their estate for two and a half years and this was the first time he had any kind of conversation with her.

“Well, Uh Rick,” she said playfully mocking him, “I saw that there are two vehicles out in the drive, does that mean you brought your own vehicle here today?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Am I blocking you in? I’m sorry, I can move it!” he said quickly, fishing in his pockets for the keys to his truck.

“No no! It’s okay, that’s not why I asked. I just thought if you had your own vehicle, you could send your partner out there on his way and you could stay back and help me with something,” she said.

“Um, I suppose. Let me go tell him and I’ll be back to help you then,” Rick said. He left the house and went to tell his partner that he was going to stay back. The company truck left with the partner and Rick returned to the house.

“Okay Ma’am, I’m back. Now what do you need help with?” he asked.

“Well, first off, you can stop calling me Ma’am ... it makes me sound like some old spinster or something. Do I look like a spinster to you?” she asked.

“Oh no, Ma ... no, you certainly don’t!” he said, catching and correcting himself.

She smiled, “Good. You can call me Kiana then,” she said.

O-okay ... Kiana,” he said. The name, as well as the whole scene unfolding, felt strange to him. He had never even been to the front door of the mansion and now he was inside chit-chatting with the lady of the house as if they did this every day!

But it was about to get a whole lot stranger for Rick!

“Oh, where are my manners! Here you have been out working in the hot sun all day and I haven’t even offered you something to drink! You must be parched my dear!” she said. “What would you like, a beer? A soda? Something else?”

“I wouldn’t turn down a beer. Thank you,” he said.

“A beer it is then, why don’t you go have a seat in the living room and I’ll bring it in,” Kiana said. Rick went into the living room and looked around. All of the furniture looked very expensive and very clean. He looked at his grubby, soiled jeans, and didn’t sit anywhere!

Kiana came in with the drinks and saw him standing in the middle of the room. “I didn’t want to get your nice furniture all messed up with my dirty clothes,” he said.

“Oh it’s fine, dear ... we can have them cleaned if need be. Don’t worry about it. Here, you can sit on the sofa next to me,” she said, taking him by the hand and leading him to the sofa.

He sat down next to her still wondering what this was all about. It was very strange and it made him a bit uneasy ... as if there was something else at work here and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

Rick had just taken the first couple of swigs from his beer when Kiana asked, “Rick do you think I’m attractive?”

Rick nearly choked to death at the audacity and suddenness of the question. When he stopped choking and coughing long enough, he said “W-what?”

“I asked if you thought I was attractive,” she said, smiling that she had caught him so flat-footed.

“S-sure, I guess. I mean, yeah, you are very attractive,” he said.

“Thank you, Rick, that’s nice to know. You know I am a professional model, right? Well, as a model I have people telling me all the time that I am beautiful and that I am attractive and all that, but they make their living off my modeling, so I can never be sure they aren’t just saying that so they can keep getting paid! But with someone like you whose opinion isn’t tied to their bank account, it’s more realistic. Thank you,” she said.

“Well trust me, you are very pretty,” he said again.

“I suppose you heard me and my husband arguing earlier out by the pool. I mean how could you not hear the way he was bellowing!” she said.

“Well, we try not to hear things...” he said.