Free Hunter by Chris Allen

time with you, Charly, away from all the madness that follows, it seems, wherever you go."
    "Chaos, more like." She took another sip of the exquisite champagne, chilled to perfection, while the remnants of their lunch were being cleared away by a member of the kitchen crew.
    Charly gazed across into Raoul's ice-gray eyes, contemplating how she'd allowed this stranger to entice her away like this. She had never been so calculatingly seduced, which she put down to him being older than any other man she'd dated. But the invitation had been too good to refuse; the promise of escape was intoxicating and any time away from the media spotlight was good for her. Besides, that last night at Carnegie Hall had been the final night of the tour and she now had two blissful months before she  needed to be anywhere. And he was starting to grow on her, just a little.
    "I must go and enjoy this magnificent sunshine before Malta's spring chill finds me again."
    "A splendid idea, Charly," he said, his silky smooth tone looping its way around her willpower.
    "Join me, and you can slip out of that shirt so I can get a proper look at you," said Charly mischievously. "You're so modest."
    "I'll be down soon," he said. "I'll keep an eye on you from here."
    "Have it your way," Charly replied, feigning hurt feelings. "Don't let me get too lonely down there. I may need to ask one of the crew to rub lotion on me."
    Charly slid from the bench and moved over to him. She ran her slender fingers over his shoulders and through his hair as he sat obediently, looking up into her eyes. Slowly, gently, with the promise of more to come, she kissed him on the mouth. He started to respond but then she broke away. Unpretentiously, she dropped her flowing Crystal Jin cover up to the floor beside his chair, then holding his gaze, excused herself and left the upper deck with its spectacular 360-degree views of the Mediterranean.
    She made her way to the forward deck where an area had been prepared especially for her to relax while avoiding the damaging effects of the sun. Deliberately exposing herself to the risk of skin cancer was something Charly was just not prepared to do, but that didn't mean she couldn't still enjoy a little paradise.
    She wore a black Cia Maritima two-piece that complemented her full curves. The pitch of the costume
    sat in stark contrast upon the incredible contours of her fair skin and against the volcanic effect of her lustrous red hair. Charlotte-Rose moved toward the Bedouin-like pavilion arrangement on the foredeck, complete with flanks of billowing lawn and a bed of sumptuous cushions. She conjured 1950s movie star glamor with every step and unaffected gesture.
    Every crew member within view craned to watch.

Chapter 14
    Two miles south of the Florence, a large Zodiac rigid-hulled inflatable boat, powered by a 165-horsepower MerCruiser engine, was moving in fast from the direction of Marsaskala. At the wheel a man dressed in the navy blue uniform, baseball cap and orange life vest of the Malta Police Force Maritime Patrol was clearly visible. He was armed and focused intently upon the Florence.
    The conditions were perfect. The sea was still, visibility clear and the only merchant shipping in the area was far enough away to be beyond the range of the naked eye.
    *
    Charly lounged on the cushions, a sea breeze running gently across her skin. She looked up at Raoul with a smile as he watched lasciviously from the dining deck. She allowed herself to be immersed in the trinkets of rising celebrity: the luxurious yacht; the hot, breezy Mediterranean; and, of course, the swarthy European millionaire wrapped around her little finger. With a movement that said, "You'll just have to wait until I'm ready," the world-famous classical pianist nestled upon the soft carpet of cushions and allowed the calming roll of the sea to carry her off into a blissful daydream.
    *
    Aboard the Zodiac, a black tarpaulin was thrown back to reveal four heavily armed