Being scrutinized, close-up, by penetrating, dark, inhuman eyes took a bit of getting used to. Will set aside his unease. "Hi, fellas. Can I join your reindeer games?"
Anakalia laughed, bobbing up and down in the water. Her gray tank top hugged her delicious curves. Dark hair hugged the sides of her head the same way, down past her shoulders and stopped at the top curve of her breasts.
Her brilliant smile was to die for.
One dolphin nudged her with its snout. "I'm forgetting my manners." She stroked the top of its sleek head. "This is Dottie."
Said dolphin bowed its, or rather, her head, and then disappeared under the water. The next second, she resurfaced with a fish hanging out of her mouth.
"It's a present for you," Anakalia explained.
"What do I do with it?"
Her blue eyes echoed the turquoise of the warm waters. "As I don't care to eat raw fish, I always politely decline."
Will tilted his head at the dolphin. "Thanks, Dottie, but I'd rather see you eat the fish."
It was almost uncanny, but it seemed as if Dottie smiled, then swallowed the present.
Anakalia was nudged into Will by a dolphin with a nick at the top of its fin. She glanced up at him with a surprised expression, and immediately pulled away.
Will sighed his regret.
"This rambunctious young male is Nicky." She blew the dolphin a kiss. "And his pal over there is Archie."
All three put on a show with whistling from their blowholes and shooting streams of bubbles as they swam around Anakalia and Will.
"Did you name them?" he asked.
"Yep, I'm not very inventive, am I?" She ducked under the water, and smoothed her hair away from her face when she emerged.
Rivulets of water slipped down her delightful face. A vise painfully tightened around Will's heart. Although it was impossible, or should've been impossible, he was in love with this woman.
But he hardly knew her. He was already married, and yet he longed to take her in his arms. Kiss her until he was satiated. Make love to her now, next week, next year...
He was insane.
Damn. He had to pull himself together.
"Uh, listen, I'm getting waterlogged so I'll just go ashore and work on my tan." He tore his gaze away from her. "Tell your friends I enjoyed meeting them."
As he swam, then walked, to the shore, he felt her staring after him, but he couldn't turn around. He continued single-mindedly until he reached the beach towels, and picked one up to dry off.
He still refused to look back into the water. It was time for him to have a come-to-Jesus meeting with himself. If he wasn't careful, if he followed his inclination, he'd lose everything he'd worked for.
The senior partners at Ernst, Scargill, and Petersen were a conservative lot. If there was even the slightest hint of adultery, he'd be on the firm's shit list. It was a helluva double standard. When single/divorced/widower attorneys got involved with married women, à la Jack Fairweather, the partners turned a blind eye. However, if wedding vows had been exchanged, then beware. An invitation out the door was standard issue.
Will had labored too hard for that to happen. He had to exercise control.
Just as he was about to sit, he heard a car drive into the parking area. A man of average height, average build wearing a T-shirt and shorts stepped out of the car. He looked at the bay, smiled and waved his hand.
Will heard Anakalia call, "Jack! I'll be out in a sec."
So this was Fairweather. Will assessed him as the man walked closer. A rather unimpressive specimen of manhood: too soft and doughy. His blue eyes too watery. Perhaps the most impressive thing about him was his thick and wavy caramel-colored hair.
His smile seemed genuine though as he ambled over the rocks. "Aloha! I'm Jack Fairweather."
Before Will could introduce himself, Fairweather walked past him toward the water. "Here you are, my little sprig of sunshine. I thought I'd find you with your dolphins."
Anakalia emerged from the water. A sliver of her skin showed brown above the top of her bikini bottom.
Will's breath quickened. For a moment he was stunned into silence at the intimate sight. He grabbed a towel and handed it to her.
With one hand, she took the towel. With the other, she shook Fairweather's hand. "Good to see you, Jack."
The man leaned over and gave her a hug. Too much of a hug. After all, she was just barely clothed.
Will fought the urge to pull Fairweather off her.
Thankfully, she swiftly extricated herself. "Jack, I'd like to introduce our guest--"
"I know who he is!" Fairweather's big voice grated. "You've been looking for me, haven't you? The office gave me a heads up. You're Wilson Struthers."
Anakalia gasped. As tan as she was, her brown color suddenly faded. She turned as pale as a ghost. Her eyes wide, her mouth agape, she swayed on unsteady legs.
Before she fell, Will swept her up in his arms. "Are you okay?"
She didn't answer. She was unresponsive.
He called over his shoulder at Fairweather. "I'm taking her home."
Grabbing the car keys, he didn't wait for Fairweather's response. He raced to the Taurus and set her limp body inside.
By the time he started the engine, only a minute had passed. Four more minutes, and they'd be back at her house.
What had just happened? Did she have a medical condition? Had she suffered heat exhaustion?
Fortunately the road ahead was clear--no traffic. He glanced over at her. Her face still ashen, she stared out the window without blinking her eyes.
"We'll be back at your place in a minute, Anakalia. How are you feeling?"
"Lousy," she replied. "I wish I'd never been born."
Puzzled, Will put his curiosity on hold and pulled into the Lawai'a driveway.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Andrea kept her face averted from the man who had once been her husband. Her memory, so long kept in abeyance, now had slammed back into place.
Andrea Ernst had been her name. The spoiled, neglected only child of immensely wealthy Randolph Ernst. Her mother had died long ago, before Andrea could store up any memories of her.
Andrea had grown up alone, lonely, and unloved.
And then she had met her Prince Charming. Or so she'd thought. Wilson Struthers had been everything she'd dreamed of in a man. She'd gladly said yes to his proposal.
On her wedding night, she'd learned he only married her to advance his career in her father's law firm. Even before the marriage was consummated, he'd strayed with the voluptuous office strumpet.
Her father had used her as a lure to attract the man he wished to be the son he never had.
As tears seeped from her eyes, she blinked to banish them. She'd spent seven years crying on the inside. Avoiding who she was, who she was meant to be.
Andrea Ernst would cry no more.
Wilson--she could no longer think of him as Will--carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. He gently laid her down on her bed.
"I'll get your mother, Anakalia. I saw her in the garden out back. She'll help you." He hesitated. "Will you be okay alone here?"
She still refused to look at him. "I'll be fine, thank you." Even to her own ears her voice sounded flat, dead. Just like how she felt.
He continued to hover with uncertainty. She could tell by the way the wood flooring creaked under his shifting weight.
Finally he walked to the door. "I'll be right back." His footsteps echoed on the staircase.
With him safely gone, she got out of bed. She grabbed her robe, put it on, then hastened over to the window. Gnawing on her lower lip, she looked outside. Jack Fairweather had just pulled into the driveway behind the white Taurus.
The truth about her identity would come out soon. Very soon. She had a mountain of decisions to make. She had to think. She had to plan.
What in the world was she going to do now?
* * * *
Will spotted Mrs. Lawai'a standing near a kukui t
ree with her palm outstretched. She was talking to a vivid red bird as it hopped from branch to branch.
"Mama Kalala," he called. "It's Anakalia. She's taken ill."
"Gracious me!" The woman's sudden movement caused the bird to flutter its wings and fly away. "What happened? Where is my darling little coconut?"
He wasted no time in explaining, but urged her to the house. As they walked, he helped her over the uneven ground.
"She's in her bedroom. I don't know what happened. We were at Onomea Bay, and she'd gotten out of the water. Jack Fairchild had just arrived. She almost fainted so I brought her back here."
"I must see. I must see." For such a large woman, she moved rapidly, into the house and up the stairs.
They were almost at the top when the doorbell chimed a pleasant melody.
She glanced over at the bedroom door, then down to the entryway. "Will, would you answer that please? I must see to my child."
"Of course." He headed back to the first floor. He would've preferred to be upstairs but, in truth, he was a stranger to the Lawai'as. It probably was for the best that mother and daughter speak in private.
The top of Jack Fairweather's thick hair was visible in the clear panel window on the door. Will opened the door, and stood aside.
"She's upstairs. Mrs. Lawai'a is with her." Will walked into the spacious living room and immediately began to pace. "Maybe something she ate disagreed with her."
Fairweather sat on a white couch in the airy room. He spread his hands out, palms up. "I hope it's only that. She's had a tough time of it, poor kid."
The room was quiet except for the soft whirling of the ceiling fan. Will stayed lost in his thoughts. Probably Fairweather did as well.
He glanced upstairs as if he could see through the flooring into Anakalia's room. Since he didn't have x-ray eyes he could see nothing, so he turned his attention to Fairweather.
Here was a good opportunity to get the interview out of the way. Get his side of the story. Find out why a few of his fellow attorneys dished the dirt about him.
And determine if, in Will's opinion, Fairweather should make partner. With that assignment done, he could return home to Richmond.
Or he could wait until Tuesday, when he was scheduled to leave. After all, there was no need to rush back.
He chose a comfortable chair and leaned back against the plump cushions. "How about if we have our little talk now?"
Fairweather's voice boomed. "Fine idea! What do you want to know?"
For starters, Will wanted to know what was the matter with Anakalia. But that wasn't to the point.
He proceeded to question Jack Fairweather about his law practice with Ernst, Scargill, and Petersen.
* * * *
Mama Kalala hurried across the room and sat on the bed. "What has happened, my child? Are you ill? Will is so worried."
Andrea closed the door and locked it. "I know who I am now, Mama. I know what happened seven years ago." She sat next to her benefactor.
Mama Kalala clucked her concern. She sandwiched Andrea's cold, clammy hand between her own two and briskly rubbed her skin.
The dear lady.
Andrea took a deep breath and slowly released it. "Okay, brace yourself. Here are the sorry, sordid details."
She first spoke of her father, of her lonely childhood. Since Nathan was an employee of the law firm, Mama Kalala naturally had heard of Randolph Ernst. That was surprise number one.
Surprise number two was that Wilson Struthers was her husband.
"Great Goddess Pele!" Mama Kalala slapped her bosom. "But he is a newlywed."
Andrea jammed her hands into her robe's pockets. "That's right, he is. And he has one wife too many."
The third surprise dealt with her father's deal with Wilson, and Wilson's adultery. She didn't go into more intimate details--that she had been a virgin seven years ago. That she was still a virgin. At her advanced age of twenty-five, her condition was a bit embarrassing.
Mama Kalala rapidly fanned her face with her hand. "Gracious me. I do not know what to say. Whatever are you going to do, child?"
"First, I'm going to take a shower." Andrea stood. "Then, I'm going to put on all my war paint and have a little heart-to-heart with my husband, Wilson Struthers."
Just thinking about that man made her stomach churn with resentment. She fisted her hands. "He's going to get the shock of his life."
"Oh, child. I do not like that look in your eye. You must move carefully here. These are extraordinary circumstances. There is so much at stake."
Andrea looked into the bathroom and narrowed her gaze at the connecting door to the guest bedroom. "You know, I bet he had me declared legally dead."
Tears welled up in Mama Kalala's eyes.
The dear, sweet lady.
Giving her surrogate mother a hug, Andrea whispered, "Now don't you say anything about this. Not one word. Just tell him I feel much better and want to go out to dinner with him."
Mama Kalala whispered back. "But what about Jack Fairweather?"
Andrea stepped away, her mind preoccupied by matters more important than Jack Fairweather. "He's a nice guy, but I'm not interested in him. After all, I am a married woman."
Mama Kalala left the room. "Gracious me. Gracious me," she kept repeating.
As she relocked the door, Andrea smiled, but without any warmth. Hell had no fury like a woman scorned, so the saying went. Well, her fury had had seven years to percolate. Wilson Struthers had better beware.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Inside the Alohi Hoku Restaurant, Will held a cushioned rattan chair for Anakalia. He sat across from her and glanced around. This restaurant was magical. The ceiling's transparency allowed the sparkle of the night sky to bathe diners in the romantic glow of starlight. In fact, that was what Alohi Hoku meant--shining star.
He couldn't believe his good luck. She actually had wanted to come here...with him...and not with that philandering Jack Fairweather.
Then again, being here with Anakalia was almost as if Will was philandering, too. Being unfaithful to his wife.
He frowned. That was a sobering thought.
Anakalia lifted her champagne glass. "This is a special place, don't you think?"
She wore her hair parted to the side, long and straight. Her eyes glittered like sapphire jewels. Her tanned skin had a luminescent radiance that he was finding hard to resist. Just as he had a difficult time not eyeballing the sensuous curves of her breasts, peeking from the scalloped bodice of her black evening dress.
"Yes, it is. I'm so glad you're feeling better." He also lifted his goblet. "What shall we drink to?"
"To the future." She smiled. "I have a feeling both our futures are going to be very interesting."
"To the future." He clinked his glass with hers, before taking a sip of an excellent dry champagne.
A gust of wind from outside swept through the interior, sending wisps of her hair dancing on the breeze. They made small talk while nibbling on the shrimp cocktail appetizers. He had a refill on the champagne. She was still on her first glass.
He was enjoying himself immensely.
When the main course of mahi-mahi arrived, she cut into the fish and took a bite. "You mentioned you'd visited Oahu seven years ago. Was that also a business trip?"
Damn. Heaven only knew how deeply that tragedy had scarred his life.
She waited for his reply, as if his answer was the most important thing in the world.
"No," he finally said. "No, actually, it was to be a honeymoon." He fortified his courage with another gulp of champagne.
"A honeymoon?" She arched an eyebrow. "But didn't Mama Kalala say you just recently got married?"
His appetite vanished. He leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, to my second wife. My first wife..." He exhaled regret. "Well, she died."
"Did she?" Anakalia set down her goblet. "Goodness. How terrible for you. How did that happen?"
Although the outside breezes cooled the restaurant, perspi
ration popped up on his forehead. He wiped the moisture away, and then continued moving his hand through his hair to steady himself.
"She was lost at sea." He exhaled again. "I hope you don't mind, Anakalia, but I'd rather not talk about..."
She reached across and smoothed her fingertips over the back of his hand. "You must have loved her very much."
Hell. He didn't understand it. For some reason he felt as deeply as if his loss had just occurred. As if Andrea had just been claimed by the cruel ocean.
"The truth is, Andrea and I... We didn't know each other too well. But I think we would've been...good together."
He shrugged. It had been a very long time since he'd opened up like this, exposing his raw pain. He felt vulnerable again. For some reason, he trusted Anakalia.
He flipped his hand over to hold hers.
She removed her hand. "And now, after seven years, you've married again." Her eyes flashed coldly. "So why are you making moves on me?"
Wait, what's going on here?
He opened his mouth to protest, and then swiftly shut it. She was right. He shouldn't be out wining and dining another woman. That wasn't fair to Stella. His business in Hawaii was finished. He needed to head back home tomorrow.
Will straightened his tie--an unconscious habit, not a preening gesture and certainly not a nervous one. "I apologize if you thought I was out of line--"
"You need to apologize to your wife."
"That's none of your business." He glared at the stranger opposite him.
Anakalia glared back at him. "Just one other thing. Did you have your first wife declared legally dead?"
"Again, that's none of your business." He was hard pressed not to say "none of your damn business."
"You're wrong." She stood, then threw her linen napkin down on her barely touched food. "You see, my American name is Andrea."
With that, she swung around and headed for the exit.
He leapt to his feet as a reflex action. Then her words penetrated his brain. Anakalia's American name was Andrea.
Well, so what if it was?
What did that have to do with anything?
What--
He sat back down. Dear God! Did she mean... Was she... Could she be his Andrea?
ONE WIFE TOO MANY Page 7