by Cathryn Cade
He groaned deep in his chest. “Faster. Ah, tita.” Clamping his hands on her hips, he began to thrust up inside her in time with her movements.
Claire rode him like a mermaid on a manō’s back, until they broke together, crying out their joy with one voice.
Later, when she lay on his chest, trying to catch her breath, he moved just enough to reach over the edge and fumble in his bag, which he’d dropped by her nightstand. She opened her eyes to see a strange look in his eyes. If he’d been anyone else, she would have said he was shy, but this was Daniel.
“I brought you something,” he said. “If you want it.”
“Whatever you bring me, I want it,” she told him. They both knew she was speaking of more than the gift.
He swallowed, his eyes bright. Then he picked up her left hand and pushed something onto her finger. Claire found herself staring at a huge blue sapphire with two smoky diamonds in a free-form platinum setting. Emotion—happiness and the terror of how they’d nearly managed to miss this—welled up inside her, and the ring blurred before her eyes.
“Don’t cry, tita,” he pleaded. “Ah, Pele, your tears rip my guts out.”
He kissed her. “No keia La, no keia po, a mau loa, na’u `oe. From this day, from this night, forever more, you’re mine.”
“Oh, Daniel,” she sobbed. “That’s so beautiful. I love you, so much it scares me.”
She kissed him back frantically, tangling her tongue with his, absorbing his unique, salty tang, his powerful response. Her chin and cheeks were raw from his beard, her body was pummeled from their stormy coupling, but she was like a starving woman gorging herself on his nourishment.
“As long as I don’t scare you,” he said into her ear, following his words with his tongue.
She laughed breathlessly, arching her neck to allow him to rake his teeth down her throat, and bite the place that made her shudder, made her wild.
“You can try, Ho’omalu.”
That night, Claire smiled to herself as she settled into the curve of Daniel’s arm, her head on his shoulder. Damp from their loving, his skin smelled of sex and the sea.
In her dreams, she woke to find herself lying on a wooden divan, with nothing but the warm, night breezes to cover her. She looked over and saw Daniel asleep at her side, but outside the sea glimmered silver in the moonlight, the waves beckoning.
She rose and walked out into the warm, humid night, perfumed with the sea and the lush vegetation. She looked around her in wonder. This was Daniel’s cove, but as it had been long ago. The trail to Nawea was only a narrow shadow through the trees, and there was no house, no garage. Only the small grass-thatched hut, and the waves lapping gently down on the shore.
As for her, she wore only a sarong tied about her hips. Her hair was longer, hanging down to her elbows in tousled waves.
“Come, wahine.” She looked out to sea and saw a figure moving toward her over the waves. Kanaloa rode on two huge manō, his feet braced on their backs. They swam into the cove, and he stepped from their backs and walked through the lapping surf to the beach. “Come,” he repeated imperiously.
Her heart pounding with fear and resentment, Claire did as he said, picking her way down to the beach. Realizing her breasts were completely bare, she shook her hair forward, covering them as best she could.
Kanaloa gestured at the two sharks, lingering in the shallows with their dorsal fins protruding. “Will you ride with me?”
Claire had to bite back a smile. The rascal—even through her nerves , she had to admit he was a charmer. “Mahalo, but no.”
He smiled wickedly at her. “If Daniele were here, you would ride, hmm?”
“‘Ae. I trust him to protect me.”
His smile slipped away, and he seemed to grow taller, casting a dark shadow across the sand and pebbles between them. “And I trust him to protect my preserve, my moana, my seas.” He lifted one arm and pointed at her. “He is mine, wahine. My ho’omalu, and my sister’s.”
She nodded respectfully. “I know this, Kanaloa.”
“Then you will know this—if he takes you for his ku’u ipo, his bride, much will be expected of you.”
Her heart thumped. Then she looked back toward the hut where her lover slept, and her heart soared, certainty lifting it high like the crest of a mighty wave. “I accept whatever it is,” she told him. “He is a hero, and I want to be a wife worthy of him.”
“Ah,” Kanaloa sighed and subsided once again to a beautiful man. “‘Ae, I see that you speak truly.” He smiled at her, his teeth flashing with pure mischief. “Well, then, you will not mind paying the price to become a ho’omalu wahine, will you?”
She shook her head. He turned, and sauntered back into the surf, where he leapt lightly onto the back of his manō. They swished their mighty tails, surging away from the shore.
“But…what is the price?” Claire called after him, bewildered.
His laughter drifted over his shoulder as the sharks sped away, following the trail of moonlight. “Ask Daniele. He will explain it to you.”
Scowling after him, Claire set her hands on her hips. Finally, however, she shook her head and turned to pad back up to the hut and Daniel.
Daniel woke her the next morning with his mouth on her breast and his fingers probing between her thighs. With a sleepy murmur of pleasure, she opened her arms to him.
“Good morning.”
“It will be in a minute,” he muttered, and surged inside her.
After a few hard thrusts, she opened her eyes, clutching his shoulders.
“About time you woke up,” he said roughly. “Thought I was gonna be soloing this time.”
She laughed breathlessly. “Hard to sleep through your hana ai’, Nalu.”
He slid his arms under the backs of her knees, lifting her legs up and back so that she was completely open to him. “Glad to hear it.”
Then he braced his legs on the old mattress and began to move, hard and fast, hitting that special spot inside her with every thrust.
Claire moaned, a soft sound that built in her throat until it escaped, only to be followed by another, and another, each one higher and longer as pleasure built inside her.
“Oh God, Daniel,” she pleaded, bracing her hands on the wall behind her.
“Whatchu want?”
“You—you, oh don’t stop, oh Daniel, I love you!”
At her words, or perhaps the rhythmic squeeze of her pussy around him as she came, Daniel let out a shout of release and stiffened in her arms. Then he slowly collapsed on the mattress, rolling to land on his side so he wouldn’t crush her, and pulling her with him.
She laid her head on his damp, sweaty shoulder, feeling his heart thundering beneath her cheek. She closed her eyes, tenderness swelling inside her.
“Now, it’s a good morning,” he murmured, stroking his hand down her back to pat her bottom. He shifted beneath her. “Tonight we’re sleeping at my hotel, though.”
At the mention of sleep, Claire sat up abruptly. “I had the strangest dream last night. Only…I’m not sure it was a dream.”
He sat up with her. “Tell me.”
As she described what had happened, Daniel tensed, his jaw tightening. She looked into his eyes. “It wasn’t a dream, was it?”
He shook his head. “No, wahine. Vision, more like. It’s how Pele and Kanaloa come to us when they have something to say.”
“What did he mean?” she asked, foreboding tightening in her middle. “That you’ll explain the price to be with you?”
To her shock, his face reddened above his beard, and his gaze flickered away from hers. He almost looked…guilty.
“Daniel,” she warned, her hands clamped on his shoulders.
He cleared his throat. Muttered something under his breath. Then he looked her in the eye, and along with regret she saw a kind of cautious joy.
“You know I love you, right?” he asked.
“Yes, but if you’re going to tell me I have to share you with a
nother woman, forget it!”
That surprised a laugh out of him. “Oh, hell no. Ah, at least, not with another woman.”
“Huh? I’m not following you here, Nalu.”
He lifted one hand to cup the side of her face in calloused warmth. “Wahine, you may have to put your plans to travel the world on hold, for a few years at least.”
She stared at him, and he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “The ho’omalu line must go on, ku’u ipo. That means, we have to have children.”
“Holy crap,” she breathed, dismay slapping her like a cold, wet sneaker wave. “Now?”
He grimaced. “Not…right now. Soon. But, tita…” He looked her in the eye, leaning close so that his warm breath fanned her lips. “I want you to have my keikis. I wanna watch you grow round with my seed. I want them playing around my feet. I want a little ohana of our own.”
“Oh.” She blinked away the hot tears that sprang to her eyes, and leaned her face against his. “That’s not fair. I had plans, you know. I was gonna travel to every beach I could find as fast as I could and expand my career. And then just when I’m about to work up a good mad about having my plans washed away in a big breaker, you just…sweep in and—and make me love you even more.”
He smiled at her. “You can still have your career the way you wanted. You just might have to settle for Hawaiian beaches when the keikis are tiny.”
“Oh, well, I suppose that will have to do.” She pouted and then smiled back at him. “Paradise, with you. Not so tough.”
His brows drew together, his gaze troubled. “There will be tough times, tita. Times when I have to go, and you have to let me. You know that, right?”
She nodded. “But you don’t always have to be a hero,” she murmured to him. “You can just be my man. That’s enough for me.”
He took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out. “Good to know. Cape gets heavy, yeah?”
She nodded, pressing a kiss to his throat.
He stroked her hair, his calloused fingers catching on the silky strands. “Tita…I’ll try to change for you, but I…you gotta know going into this that I—I’m not always easy to live with.”
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured encouragingly.
He stroked her hair again. “I’m a rough, mean moke…even for a tough tita like you to put up with. I’m not…used to having anyone around. Promise me that if I ever…you know…scare you, you’ll tell me.”
Claire bit her lip, trying to keep still. But in spite of herself, a small noise escaped her. He stilled. “Are you laughing at me?” he demanded incredulously.
She gave in, letting the laugh roll up through her. “Y-yes. Oh, Daniel.” She patted his face, feeling the tension in the bands of muscle over his wide jaw as he gritted his teeth. “You don’t really know yourself at all. You’re not a bad, mad warrior, sweetie. You’re a moody, broody artist.”
He snorted. “You make me sound like a damn diva.”
“No. Remember the day I brought you cookies from Leilani? I walked right into your studio. You were so wrapped up in bringing that shark to life, you didn’t even know I was there.”
She leaned over him, her hair falling on his face. “You don’t have to change for me, kanaka. Just promise me one thing.”
“Yeah?” he asked a little suspiciously.
“That you will never, ever”—she paused dramatically—“call your manō again when we’re diving.”
He gave a snort of laughter and then touched her face. “You’d dive again, after what happened?”
She nodded. “With you by my side, yeah. I can’t imagine those Helmans will ever want to come back to Hawaii.”
“No, ’cause I don’t think there are any left,” he agreed. “They have a sister, but no one’s ever heard anything about her—she wasn’t involved in the business. And if any of their minions try to worm their way in here again, we’ll be waiting for them, believe it.”
“Minions,” she repeated. “Ooh, I love the way you say that. Just like a real superhero. And, omigosh, that reminds me. I have a present for you too.”
“For me?” he sounded disconcerted. “You bought me a present? When?”
She traced a pattern on his skin, too self-conscious to meet his gaze. “Oh, it’s nothing special. Just…a few weeks after I came home. I was walking by a second-hand store near campus, and I saw something.”
She slipped away from him and leaned over to rummage in the top drawer of her nightstand. Shyly, she handed him the small paper bag and then perched on the edge of the bed as he opened it.
He pulled the small plastic figure from the bag and stared at it. “’Aue. It’s Aquaman.” He grinned, his white teeth flashing. “Damn, I didn’t think there were any of these left. I’ve tried to find them on the Internet.”
He cast her a gleaming look. “Mahalo, tita. Best damn gift you could have given me. Well, other than you.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. The figure had cost her nearly two hundred dollars that she didn’t have, but she’d taken one look and known she had to buy it for him.
“I sort of fantasized about coming back,” she said. “In spite of Kanaloa’s warning. And wearing a bikini, to make you eat your heart out. And then, if you were nice, I’d give you the Aquaman.”
“Really?” He looked up at her, his eyes gleaming. “Tita…I would have crawled across the lava plain west of Kona to see you in a bikini again.”
She beamed, pleasure at his praise glowing inside her, a warmth that would never dissipate. She tapped the jaunty plastic figure he held in his huge hand.
“This is you. You’re a hero worth chasing, Daniel Ho’omalu. I’ll follow you anywhere, even into the deep.”
About the Author
Cathryn Cade lives in the Pacific Northwest with her tall, handsome husband and a golden retriever named Buddy. She loves to read and write romance, cook with fresh seafood and take long trips to Hawaii. She has been writing romance since she can remember, and is thrilled that she can now include her favorite islands in her stories.
Please visit her at:
www.cathryncade.com
www.twitter.com/CathrynCade
cathryncadesblog.blogspot.com/
www.facebook.com/cathryncade.author
www.samhainpublishing.com/authors/cathryn-cade
www.goodreads.com/author/show/2796058.Cathryn_Cade
Look for these titles by Cathryn Cade
Now Available:
Orion
Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bryght
Her Commander
Prince of Dragons
Deep Indigo
Hawaiian Heroes
Walking in Fire
Rolling in the Deep
Born to defend his people, he will sacrifice everything…for her.
Walking in Fire
© 2012 Cathryn Cade
Hawaiian Heroes, Book 1
Nawea Bay, a remote Hawaiian paradise, is just the haven Melia Carson needs to escape the chill of heartache. Instead, she finds herself swept up in a tropical heat wave, fueled by her unexpected attraction to a handsome native she meets on a snorkel tour.
He’s big, powerful, hot enough to melt her defenses—and he’s not all he seems. How else could he survive an injury that should have killed him…and why does she dream of him garbed in ancient native dress and wreathed in flames?
David “Malu” Ho’omalu is on the Big Island to find and destroy a cache of dangerous designer drugs before they can be sold to his people. Fending off amorous female tourists is part of the job, but one look in Melia’s blue eyes, and his instincts scream that she is his.
As Melia surrenders to the desire burning between them, she discovers more than a fiery heritage that defies modern logic. She discovers a man who would descend into the molten heart of the volcano to protect his island. And her…if she can find the strength to trust her heart to him.
Warning: Hot, hot Hawaiian hero with volcanic passion on his mind. Better pack a heat-proof bikini for this
island paradise.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Walking in Fire:
Malu set the cooler down and leaned back on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps bulged. Melia realized she was staring again and looked quickly away. Darn it, she had to quit that. She had the mad urge to race out of the house and dive into the water again, to quell the flush of heat under her skin—equal parts arousal and embarrassment. She always seemed to be flushed around him, as if heat emanated from his very persona.
“You just saying dat because I have to cook so much when you’re here,” Leilani said to Malu, but she was smiling. “Dis man eat for days.”
“Hmm,” Melia answered. Hard not to notice when he sat across from her eating two helpings to the others’ one—he obviously had to fuel that physique.
“Maybe Melia cook for us, yeah?” He was laughing at her again, darn him. Not out loud, but that sensual mouth was tilted up at the corners, and his dark eyes held a suspicious gleam. She’d like to cook for him all right—a nice serving of ipecac. “Melia paha.”
Leilani laughed easily, then looked quickly at Melia. “Sorry, not laughing at you. Malia paha mean ‘maybe’. Close to your name.”
“Meh-lee-ah,” Malu said, rolling her name on his tongue. “You have a Hawaiian name.”
“Yes. It means plumeria. My parents spent their honeymoon here,” she said. “They liked the name.”
“So, you cook Hawaiian?” he went on, still with that gleam in his eyes. “Know any good Spam recipes?”
Melia frowned, wary of a trap. She knew the canned ground ham product was an island favorite, but she’d never actually eaten it. Malu grinned, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m sure I could come up with some recipes, just for you.”
Leilani shook her head at him. “She cook fresh, not canned. Anyway, dis girl here on vacation.”
“Yes, I am. Nice talking to you, Leilani.” Without looking at Malu, Melia turned and sauntered out the nearest door, which turned out to be the one to the rear lanai.