Sarajane made a little moue of embarrassment. "Dear me, have I said something wrong? I certainly didn't mean to. Why I'm sure your family are just the loveliest, nicest people in the world.” She patted Lilly's forearm gingerly. "Not like the rest of them...."
Next to her Rick leaned forward, his body taut as piano wire. "Listen, if you think--"
She kicked him sharply in the shin.
"What the--?"
"What a surprise," said Eden, waving gaily at a tall and handsome young man standing in the archway to the dining room. "Look who's come to claim his wife!”
#
It didn't take Rick more than a second to figure out who the man was. Eden's brother was every bit as good-looking as his sister, although on a decidedly masculine scale. He didn't waste any time in crossing the dining room to their table and sweeping his wife into his arms.
"Tony!” Lilly's voice held an unmistakable note of relief. "How on earth--?"
Tony Forrester favored them all with a wide smile. "Let's just call it good luck.” He met his sister's eyes and Rick noted a silent communication between the two that piqued his interest. "I know you won't mind if I join all of you for lunch."
"You're a little too late for that," said Eden, gesturing toward the table. "We've just finished."
Tony glanced at the empty coffee cups and dessert plates. "Then if you'll excuse us, I'm going to prevail upon my wife to join me while I get some lunch."
Before anyone had a chance to protest or engage Tony Forrester in lengthy conversation, the strapping young man helped his wife to her feet and escorted her from the dining room in search of, Rick supposed, a more private place to eat lunch.
"Impetuous, isn't he?" murmured Sarajane as the couple disappeared through the archway.
"It's a family trait," said Eden smoothly. She rose to her feet, a movie-star smile on her face. "It's been grand, ladies, but I must dash."
Sarajane and Mitzi looked at each other, suddenly discomfited.
"But there's still so much to talk about," ventured Mitzi.
"Another time," said Eden. "You ladies feel free to enjoy another cup of coffee or a pastry.” She positioned her crutches more securely under her arms and tossed her hair back with her characteristic gesture. "Lunch is on me."
Chapter Twelve
Eden said nothing to Rick as he helped her into the Oldsmobile then tossed her crutches into the back seat. Her beautiful face was set in those stubborn lines with which he was becoming familiar. He climbed behind the steering wheel, started the engine, then turned to her.
"Where to?" he asked.
"The beach.” Her words were clipped, her tone subdued.
"Waikiki?"
"Please."
Please? This was something new. Apparently she'd found lunch at the Windward Club as hard to digest as he had although he had no doubt that they didn't share the same reasons for the opinion. Where Eden Forrester had made it crystal clear that she considered her sister-in-law Lilly to be a regular Dragon Lady, Rick had found breaking bread with old Mitzi and Sarajane to be cruel and unusual punishment. He didn't like being reminded that success in the military had as much to do with social finesse as actual ability and he sure as hell didn't like being reminded that women like those two battleaxes came with the territory.
He laughed to himself as he imagined Sarajane helping her husband out by scrubbing floors or Mitzi taking in other people's wash to make ends meet. The difference between Chicago and Honolulu had never seemed more obvious than it did at that moment.
Lilly Aoki Forrester was another story. The look on her face when she saw her husband standing in the archway of the dining room had given Rick a funny sensation in the pit of his stomach that felt a lot like envy. The real love between Eden's brother and his wife almost made Rick forget the fact that Lilly was Japanese. He'd never met a Japanese-American before and at first he'd been shocked to find one right in Admiral Forrester's own family. But then he found himself looking past Lilly's exotic beauty and noticing the sweetness of her nature.
He glanced over at Eden who was still looking straight ahead. It wouldn't hurt the ice princess any to be more like her sister-in-law. Before Lilly's knight in shining armor had swooped down to rescue her from the wicked witches, Eden had ignored every opportunity to make things easier for Lilly. Hell, Rick wasn't even related to Lilly but he'd had a tough time keeping his mouth shut while those middle-aged harpies had tossed zingers at the expectant mother.
Eden had to have ice water in her veins to sit still and let a member of her own family take it on the chin like that.
Or did she?
He thought about her trip to the ladies room, followed--not too long afterwards--by her brother's sudden appearance at the Windward Club. Maybe there was more to Lilly's rescue than he'd figured.
#
He didn't take her to Waikiki. Eden put up a mild protest when he whizzed past the row of expensive hotels fronting the glamorous beach.
"I know some place even better," he said with that cocky grin of his.
"Impossible.” She tossed her mane of hair back from her face and fixed him with a haughty look. "I know every beach on the island and Waikiki is vastly superior."
"It's not better than the one I'm gonna show you."
"Fifty cents says you're wrong."
He nodded, his grin widening into a smile. "You're on, princess."
She leaned back in her seat and watched as they zipped past Pearl with the majestic battleships and destroyers berthed in the harbor and headed up the western side of the island toward Waianae. She always felt a burst of pride each time she saw the best of the Pacific Fleet, sparkling in the sunshine. Today it scarcely registered on her.
He whistled while he drove, his fingers tapping out a boogie-woogie rhythm on the steering wheel. Once again the balance of power between the two of them had shifted in his favor. She was accustomed to deference from the men who worked for her father, especially young men who were as obviously ambitious as Rick Byrne seemed to be.
The previous six drivers had been all-too-eager to do her bidding and Eden had taken full advantage of that fact until they, in turn, went skulking off in search of an easier way to score points with her father.
Not so with driver number seven. Rick went toe-to-toe with her and not just because her father had given him carte blanche to call the shots. She was certain he would have been every bit as self-confident and aggressive if he'd been the first driver to sign on for the assignment. Who else would bypass Waikiki in favor of a beach he knew and liked, dismissing Eden's wishes as if they were of no consequence?
You wouldn't have let another man get away with it, a small voice admonished. She could have argued the point, ordered him to turn around and go back to Waikiki, but she hadn't. He'd felt he could call the shots and she'd allowed him the chance. And if he'd tried to kiss you last night, you wouldn't have put up a fight. Even now, her mood sour after that dreadful lunch at the club, she was acutely aware of his presence in the car. His hands on the wheel looked strong...large hands tanned from the sun and roughened by work. The kind of hands that would hold a woman in the dark of night and soothe away loneliness. This was the second time she'd noticed his hands in such detail.
She shook her head, trying to banish the disturbing images but still they lingered.
Two more weeks, she thought. Strange that the notion didn't make her feel happier.
#
"I found this beach my first week on the island," Rick said as he helped Eden from the car. "I think I'm the only one who even knows it's here."
"I can see why," Eden observed. "It's certainly out of the way, isn't it?"
"That's what's so great about the place. No tourists."
Eden's breath caught at the wild beauty of the secluded cove. Gentle waves lapped against the shore while a bower of palm trees cast shadows along the ivory sand. Masses of hibiscus and frangipani, in shades of crimson and pink, bloomed from between rocks and along the ed
ge of the grassy path leading down into the cove itself. The sultry breeze was fragrant with the perfume of both the flowers and the sea, filling her head with romantic images straight from a Hollywood movie.
This was a lovers' hideaway, the perfect place for a rendezvous. It was no place for an admiral's daughter and her temporary driver.
"I--I think we'd better go back to Waikiki," she said.
He leaned past her to grab the crutches from the back seat. "Something wrong?"
Everything's wrong. If I stay here with you, things will never be the same again. "A headache," she ventured.
He arched an eyebrow. "And Waikiki will make it better?"
She blushed, caught in her deceit. "I just think I'd be more comfortable in Waikiki.” She brightened as a plausible reason occurred to her. "I could never make my way down that path on crutches."
"I'll carry you."
"I don't think so."
"You didn't mind last night."
"That was last night.” The green flecks in his hazel eyes seemed more pronounced by the sea. Dangerous, warned that small voice. This was getting very dangerous.
"Don't worry, princess," he said, moving away a step and holding his hands, palms forward. "I know my place. You can sun all you want and I'll wait in the car."
"You'd hate that.” Why did I say that? What do I care what he hates?
"Does that matter?” His voice was husky and low, intimate without being intrusive.
She had no answer for that. Certainly not one that wouldn't scare them both. She felt like a stranger in her own skin, as if her emotions were about to burst through her chest. "It's a long drive back to Waikiki," he said. "The afternoon will be over by the time we get there. Why not give this place a chance?"
She hesitated. Because I'm terrified...because I have the feeling I'm standing at the edge of a cliff and someone is about to push me off...because I'm afraid that my life is going to change forever and there's nothing I can do to stop it. And yet she couldn't back away from the overwhelming sensation of destiny that had been building between them since she first saw him standing in the doorway to the ballroom last night.
"Eden?"
"All right," she said at last. "I'll give it a try."
He scooped her up into his arms and carried her down to the water's edge. Somehow he managed to do it in an impersonal way that made Eden feel as off-balance as she had the night before. One minute she was certain he was attracted to her; the next, she was a sack of potatoes in his arms. If he was trying to send her mixed signals, he was succeeding. Maybe this really was his favorite beach and he wanted to show it to her. Just because it screamed romance didn't mean he wanted to take advantage of that fact.
Rick was everything she didn't want in a man and, for all she knew, she was just what he didn't want in a girl. To imagine anything could possibly happen between them was ludicrous, the result of too much time on her hands and a romantic imagination fueled by Hollywood movies where a happy ending was assured.
He placed her down on the sand. "Where's your bathing suit?"
She lifted her chin. "Under my clothes."
"Can you stand up on your own?"
"Not without my crutches."
"Lean on me while you strip."
She froze at his words.
"Sorry," he said with a short laugh. "I mean, while you disrobe."
This whole thing was growing more bizarre by the second. "I think I'll keep my clothes on.” Undressing in front of Lilly was one thing; undressing in front of Rick Byrne was something entirely different.
"Can't get a tan that way."
"I'll forego the pleasure."
"Afraid to undress in front of me?"
"You must be joking."
"Piano legs?"
"Absolutely not!” The man was enjoying this, the skunk.
"So get undressed."
She was making a big deal out of nothing. It wasn't like he would see her underwear or anything. Beneath her skirt and blouse she had on a perfectly respectable one-piece bathing suit that wouldn't cause a commotion in church. The quicker she shed her clothes, the quicker this whole thing would be over.
"Just don't look at me while I do it," she snapped.
"Can I look at you afterward?” He was laughing at her.
"Of course."
"Women," he said, turning away so she didn't have to see the twinkle in his eyes. "Go figure."
#
Father Wisniewski back home used to say that no sin went unpunished and now Rick believed it. All the times he'd missed mass and talked back to his parents and swiped penny candy from the corner store--he was getting paid back in spades.
"Darn zipper," Eden muttered next to him, followed by the rasp of metal on metal and the slither of fabric sliding over her hips. He swallowed hard.
Big deal, Byrne. You heard her: she has a bathing suit on under those duds. No frilly lingerie.
She began to unbutton her top and his temperature rose. She wriggled one shoulder, then the other. Her silky blouse brushed against him as it fell to the sand. He didn't have to turn around to know exactly how she looked. He'd spent the entire night imagining her in various stages of undress.
"Okay?" he asked, voice uneven.
"Okay."
She wore a sleek emerald green bathing suit with ruffles around the bosom. Not that she needed them. Her breasts were high and full with a deep cleavage that tempted his eye and fired his imagination. She couldn't weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet but those hundred pounds were distributed in a pretty intriguing configuration. Her skin was tanned a beautiful shade of gold and with that incredible mane of fiery hair tumbling over her shoulders, she looked like every dream he'd ever had about the perfect woman.
Except the perfect woman wouldn't be only nineteen years old.
And she wouldn't be spoiled rotten.
And she sure as hell wouldn't be the boss's daughter.
"I'm going up to the car."
"Forget something?" she asked.
My will power. "I'll wait for you there.” He wasn't her date; he was her driver. This wasn't a social occasion. For him it was business. If he had any hopes of scoring points with her father, he'd get these thoughts out of his mind fast.
"That's not necessary, Rick."
He took another look at her in her siren bathing suit. "That's what you think," he muttered.
"Did you bring swim trunks?"
They were under his trousers. "No," he lied. If he stripped down to his trunks now she'd have the surprise of her life.
"Oh." She sounded disappointed.
He wheeled about and started for the car.
"Rick."
He stopped a few yards away.
"Why don't you sit with me for a while.”
"I'm the driver, remember? Drivers wait in the car."
She looked down. "I'm sorry I was so harsh yesterday."
"Yeah, well, we all have those days.” Don't turn nice on me now, Forrester. This is getting tougher by the second.
"I could use the company."
He wanted to tell her to take a hike. She was a manipulative daddy's girl accustomed to getting her own way. Hell, she didn't even know how to sit on the beach without live entertainment. The Germans and the English had a better chance of making peace than he and Eden Forrester.
And that's when he made his big mistake. He looked at her. Not just at her shiny hair and rounded figure, but at her. He looked into those turquoise eyes and saw beyond her beauty and that sense of destiny he'd felt last night when he first saw her gripped him by the throat and refused to let go. Like six drivers before him he wanted to toss down the keys to the Oldsmobile and get as far away from her as possible. But unlike those six other drivers, it wasn't because he'd had enough of her.
It was because he knew he could never have her at all.
She waited, praying he would sit down on the sand next to her.
He waited, trying to convince himself she was nothing mor
e than a means to an end.
But the sun was shining and the air was sweet with promise and he'd only be her driver for two more weeks. Your life couldn't be turned upside down in just two weeks. Two weeks wasn't even enough time to become friends. Just because he was only her driver didn't mean he couldn't enjoy a little on-the-job beachcombing, did it? Especially not if the boss's daughter said it was okay.
She smiled up at him.
He smiled down at her.
She patted the spot next to her and he sat down and in that moment he somehow knew there'd be no turning back.
Chapter Thirteen
The sun was warm, the breezes were sultry, and Eden devoutly wished she were wearing a winter coat. Not just a winter coat, but muffler, gloves, and boots too. She'd worn her favorite bathing suit and, despite the weeks of inactivity, her figure was still trim and taut, but she couldn't remember a time when she'd felt more aware of her physical self than that afternoon on the beach--or less comfortable with the entire package.
It wasn't that Rick was doing anything to make her feel that way, at least not overtly. He'd taken his uniform shirt off and tossed it in the car, then stripped off his t-shirt and balled it up under his head as a pillow. He was sprawled on the sand, just as comfortable as you please, half-dressed and proud of it.
And who wouldn't be proud of a build like that? She couldn't think of anyone of her male acquaintances whose torsos even came close to matching his sheer splendor. Rick's shoulders were broad and solidly muscled. His chest was tanned and nicely furred with curling dark brown hair that only emphasized its strength.
Her eyes were drawn repeatedly to his waistband. His stomach was flat as a drum and when he moved she almost swore she'd seen his navel. She tried hard not to stare but without success. He was so magnificent that she ached to touch him, so beautiful that she longed to rest her head on his shoulder and never ask God for another blessed thing.
Where or When: A Pearl Harbor Romance Page 9