by Meryl Sawyer
He jumped off the bed. "Let's get a shot of that sunken tub."
The bathroom was almost as large as the bedroom, with a marble dais that featured a sunken tub angled to face the windowed walls. The panoramic view took in the up-country's rolling green meadows, dotted with clusters of black Angus cattle, and in the distance the enticing glimmer of the sea. Rising from the azure waters, a black horseshoe of volcanic rock, was the Molokini Crater.
"Hey," Rob said, "we'll have to christen this tub." Dana almost came back with a cutting remark, remembering in time that Rob had made the comment for the benefit of the bug in the adjacent room. He was concentrating on his flash attachment. It wasn't blinking.
"Okay, sweet cheeks," he said, "out on the terrace. Let's get a shot of you with the Molokini Crater in the background."
Dana followed him outside, and he closed the sliding glass door behind them. Feeling like an idiot, she struck a pose with the crater visible over her shoulder. Rob clicked off several shots, positioning her on the bent-willow chaise lounge, against the cottage wall, and finally in the thicket of ferns and wild orchids with silky white petals and deep throats of lavender that lined the side of the house.
"Nothing," Rob said when he'd finished. "Just the one bug above the bed." He looked around, scanning the roofline, obviously wondering if he'd missed something.
Suddenly he grabbed her and swung her into his arms. His abrupt change of mood caught her offguard. Before she knew it he was kissing her, his strong arms locking her in place.
He broke the kiss, his forehead pressed against hers. "Stop fighting me," he whispered, his breath uneven. "There's a man with white hair on the balcony at the far side of the big house. Has to be Big Daddy. He's watching us through some kind of telescope, so make this look good."
"Big Daddy loves to watch the humpback whales migrate. He's probably sighted some off Lahaina."
Rob didn't move; his lips were still a mere inch from hers. "Right. Whales winter here. What month is this?"
"July," she admitted as his fingers combed through her hair. "He couldn't be looking at whales."
"Kiss me again, then let's move around to the side of the cottage where he can't possibly read our lips."
He pulled her close; his chest meshed against hers, flattening the mounds of her breasts. For a moment he gazed into her eyes. A strange but exciting feeling feathered up through her chest. Lordy, what he could do to her only half-trying. No wonder he kept insisting she couldn't resist him.
His eyes rested on her lips for an uncomfortably long time, then he lowered his head. It was just a kiss—for Big Daddy's benefit—she assured herself. But the caress of his mouth on hers, his agile tongue parting her lips, his talented hand stroking the back of her neck fired a primal urge to kiss him back.
Rob pulled back, ending the wondrous, searching kiss that promised more to come between them. Much more.
"The worst thing we could possibly do," he said, "is tip our hand and let him know we've found the bug. We'll have to play along and act exactly like two lovers enjoying a freebie vacation."
Dana groaned out loud. Wasn't it bad enough that she had to stand in Rob's "space"? Now she was going to have to pull a real Sarah Bernhardt for the bug planted above their bed. "I'm still sleeping on the love seat."
"No, you're not. We're taking the toss pillows off it and using them to divide the bed in half, but we're getting into that bed at night and giving Big Daddy enough pillow talk to satisfy him."
"Won't he be suspicious if we don't…"
Rob grinned. "Dana, you're such a prude. Can't you say it?"
She wrinkled her nose, barely getting out the words. "Make love."
"That's better." Rob put his hand on both her shoulders, the heat penetrating the lightweight fabric of her blouse. For a second she thought he was going to try to kiss her. Instead, he said, "We'll say things to convince him that we're so kinky that we screw in the tub, or outside on the chaise, or in the grass—anywhere except the bed."
She honestly didn't know if she could trust him in the same bed with her, but what choice did she have?
"We're going to make love. Count on it." His hands skimmed down her arms and came to rest on the curve of her waist. He was the kind of man who could convince a woman to do anything, she realized, half-liking the sensation, half-afraid she wouldn't muster the willpower to defy him.
"When we make love, Dana, it won't be with some dirty old man listening." He lowered his head until his lips were almost touching hers. "I'm not sharing you with anyone."
8
Rob went back inside the cottage and yanked the telephone out of its jack. He motioned for Dana to keep talking while he unscrewed the receiver and checked for a bug. Sure enough, there it was. Small. Hardly state-of-the-art, but it would do the trick.
"Come on," he said to Dana as he plugged in the phone again. "I'm dying to meet your sister."
They left the cottage and walked along the crushed-lava rock path that wound through artistically placed beds of native Hawaiian flowers toward the pool area. Rob put his arm around Dana and pulled her close. For once she didn't resist.
She gazed up at him, her green eyes wide with concern. "You know, I've always felt there was something wrong here. Kapu—forbidden. Now I know I was right."
Rob stopped, but didn't move his arm. "We have to be very careful. It's more important than ever that no one suspect why I'm really here. We'll have to watch every word we say, especially inside our cottage."
"What about out here?" she whispered. "Are there bugs?"
"Nah. Too much humidity. They'd have to replace the bugs every few days. Judging from the one in our room this is an amateur operation, otherwise Big Daddy would be using one of the new supersensitive devices that can hear a pin drop five miles away." He started walking again. "Let's see what's in your sister's house."
Rob didn't know who he'd been expecting, certainly not the knockout blonde who answered the door. Tall. Dynamite figure. Sexy as hell.
But he wasn't a horny kid anymore. He'd long since stopped drooling over beautiful women. Ellen had been pretty. Girl-next-door looks, really. That's what turned him on. He pulled Dana a little bit closer and kicked up his killer smile another notch. "Vanessa," Dana said, "this is Rob Tagett."
Rob extended his hand. "Howdy."
"Hello." Vanessa Coltrane responded with a lot more warmth in her voice than her cool blonde appearance indicated. "How do you like Kau Ranch so far?"
He was half-tempted to tell her. "Great."
Vanessa stood aside and motioned for them to come in, her eyes on Rob's arm draped casually over Dana's shoulder.
"You're an amateur photographer?" Vanessa asked, glancing at his camera.
"Yeah. It's my hobby," he answered in his best good-ole-boy tone. When he'd been working homicide he'd found the more harmless you appeared, the quicker perps let their guard down.
"Rob's a reporter," Dana put in as they sat on a wicker sofa with cushions so enormous he doubted if anyone really ever used it.
"That's right." Vanessa sat opposite them in a fan-back chair that made her look like a queen on a throne, her eyes narrowing. "I read your column, 'Exposed,' all the time."
Rob wasn't surprised; the Honolulu Sun was the main paper in the islands. He stole a glance at Dana. She was seated next to him, as much "in his space" as those damn cushions would allow. She seemed totally at ease with him. But would Vanessa detect some small gesture he couldn't?
He studied the two sisters. Their eyes. Now there was the major physical difference between the two. Dana's expressive green eyes dominated her face, a sharp contrast to her brown hair. Vanessa had sensual blue eyes and Nordic blonde hair worn long in a style designed to maximize her sex appeal.
No one could deny they were sisters though. It was there in the graceful curve of their cheekbones. They had matching widow's peaks, one so blonde it was barely noticeable, the other more prominent because of the darker hair.
"M
ommi-e-e," came a sleepy cry from down the hall.
Vanessa vaulted to her feet. "I'll be right back."
"Jason's up from his nap," Dana explained. ,
"Let's shoot a couple of pictures while Vanessa's with Jason." Rob stood and centered Dana in his viewfinder. She treated him to one of her irresistible smiles. Okay, it was a camera-ready, phony-as-hell smile. But he was getting to like this. A lot.
The detector flashed red as he took the picture.
Was he surprised? Hell, no. Anyone who puts bugs in guest suites was bound to eavesdrop on his sons.
Dana was frowning now, having detected the signal. "Let's get a picture of Jason in his room. He has a great rocking horse that I had made in Kauai."
As he followed her out of the living room, Rob noticed that the flash monitor was winking again.
Two bugs in one room? Why? There was another in the hall. It was probably hidden behind the picture frame. Still another device seemed to be in the potted palm in the alcove that separated the bedrooms. Interesting.
"I'm going to the head," he said to Dana, tilting his head toward the hallway, knowing she'd get the idea that he wanted to check out the other rooms.
"Meet you in Jason's room."
Rob quickly swung into the first bedroom, which was set up as an office. Sure enough, it was bugged.
The master bedroom, like a scene straight out of Casablanca, had a ceiling fan and a bed swathed in a tropical print with huge green palm leaves and woven bamboo covering the walls. And four bugs.
Jesus! What was going on here?
There was yet another bug in the master bath. It seemed to be attached to the wall-mounted television.
He wandered back down the hall to Jason's room and paused at the door. Inside, Dana sat on the bed with Jason on her lap. She was struggling to pull on his second cowboy boot. It would hit the kid's knees when she succeeded, but it wasn't the comically tall boots that made him clutch his camera tighter. It was the expression on Dana's face.
Tender. Full of love. Love. The word registered, bringing a jolt of emotion he hadn't experienced in years. The air in his chest compressed, lodging at the base of his throat. A child had stripped away her emotional armor and revealed the sensitive, loving side of Dana Hamilton that he'd always suspected was there. Could a man get her to open her heart so easily?
Beneath the professional demeanor, beneath the unexpected flaring of her temper, beneath the psychological fortress Dana kept around herself was a wellspring of sadness. She was too intent on protecting herself to open up to a man. He wasn't certain how he knew all this. Okay, sometimes his sixth sense just kicked in. It rarely failed him. Even on the night when his career had been ruined, he'd sensed he was in trouble, but he couldn't do a damn thing about it.
Suddenly Dana glanced up, saw him, and her expression instantly changed. "Rob, this is my nephew, Jason."
From under blonde bangs that brushed his brows the boy surveyed Rob with blue eyes that were exactly like Vanessa's. In another ten years all the fathers in a fifty-mile radius would be fitting their daughters with chastity belts.
Vanessa emerged from a closet that looked like a preemptive strike in a kids' clothing store. Clothes were tossed everywhere; a tiny space suit hung haphazardly from a hook along with an Indian chief's headdress; socks and shoes littered the floor, halfhidden by T-shirts.
"Stick 'em up." Jason pulled a toy six-shooter from the holster on his hip, and Rob dutifully raised his hands as he walked into the room.
"Isn't he cute?" Vanessa asked.
"Real cute," he answered, his eyes on Dana's provocative fanny as she rolled onto her side, tugging madly to get Jason's second boot on.
"There," Dana said to Jason, the second boot finally in place. "You're all set."
Jason jumped to his feet and grabbed his Stetson off the bedpost. He jammed the hat down so far that his little ears flared out like bat's wings.
Vanessa touched Rob's arm. "Take a picture for me."
He fired off two shots, picking up at least one bug in the room. "Why don't I take a picture of Jason on the rocking horse?" he asked Dana, conscious that Vanessa had moved closer to him and hoping to distract her if she noticed the winking red light.
"Yippe-e-e!" Jason launched himself onto the colorfully painted rocking horse and started bouncing on it, kicking the wooden beast for all he was worth.
"Jason, hold still," Dana said as Rob centered him in the viewfinder.
Rob didn't like the wall-mounted television that would ruin the picture. He reminded himself that he was merely looking for another bug on this side of the room, not an artistic shot. The second his finger pressed on the button, the red light blinked. He quickly depressed the button to fire the flash.
"Is something wrong with your camera?" Vanessa's voice was low. She was right at his elbow. If he moved, he'd bump into her.
"Just a low flash battery."
Jason hopped off the horse and sprinted from the room, his gun trained on imaginary bandits. Rob chuckled, reminded of his son at that same age. The age of innocence, he thought. How quickly it ended.
He turned and collided with Vanessa. "Sorry."
She didn't back away. Instead, she peered at him intently, her blue eyes as soft as a caress. "You're good with children."
Where the hell did she get that idea? He was—or more accurately he had been when Zach had lived with him. But Vanessa couldn't know anything about his parenting skills. She was just trying to be nice, he realized. He orchestrated a smile and reached for Dana.
"So what do you think?" Dana asked Rob.
"Big Daddy's a control freak… and maybe worse. I won't know until I get a long look at the command center, which is probably in his suite." They'd left Jason and Vanessa and were walking past the pool toward Makai House. Twilight came earlier in the hilly up-country than it did miles away at the beach. Mauve shadows deepened into purple, and the breeze, always cooler here than on the coast, was moist against Dana's face, bringing with it the fragrant scent of plumeria.
"Big Daddy can't listen to everyone at once. He must have a sophisticated tape system that he can play back later." Rob stopped at the turnout for the spa that was separated from the pool by a few feet.
"You're right. He's out riding with the paniolos most days. At night he holds a cocktail hour from six until dinner is served at eight." Even now she could hear the sounds of guests gathering on the terrace, appreciating the spectacular sunset. "He must listen later."
"He probably tunes in for the bedtime follies." There was no mistaking the sensual light in Rob's eyes. "We won't want to disappoint him."
Dana drew in her breath and crossed her arms as if to protect herself. "I think we should get a few things straight."
"Really?" All innocence. "Like what?"
"Like this is a serious situation. I've hired you and I can fire you."
"I love it when you talk dirty," he said with a pronounced Texas drawl. "You aren't going to fire me. You're up to your eyeballs in alligators and you know it. What's really bothering you?"
She gazed out across the swimming pool designed to look like a mountain lake. The rumors she'd heard about him echoed in her mind like distant thunder. He'd never actually been charged with rape, but when he'd brought it up that night at Coconut Willie's, he hadn't denied it. Why not?
"I guess what's bothering me is the size of the cottage," she fibbed. "I'm not used to living in close quarters with a man. I think we should establish some guidelines."
He chuckled, an undeniably masculine laugh. "Like who gets the bathroom first? You can have it, sweetcakes, as long as you don't stay in there all day."
"I don't take long," she informed him, her annoyance showing in her tone. She swallowed twice. "I was wondering what you planned to wear to bed."
His smirk made her want to whack him. "Hey, I sleep nude. Doesn't everybody?"
She wished she owned a more modest nightgown than the black lace one she'd brought with her, believ
ing she'd have a room of her own. "Wear your shorts, or I'm sleeping on the love seat."
"And tip off Big Daddy?"
"I'm serious." She shot him the look that made attorneys who ventured into her courtroom cower. Rob had the audacity to wink at her.
"All right," he finally conceded with a wise-guy smile, and she couldn't help wondering if he'd been deliberately baiting her. "Anything else?"
She was tempted to tell him to keep his shirt on too, but considering the warm temperatures that would be tantamount to admitting she found his body physically disturbing, which she didn't. She was merely more comfortable around fully clothed men. "No. That's all."
"Then it's okay to snore?"
She laughed, even though the cockiness in his voice told her that he hadn't taken her seriously. No telling what he might pull later.
9
They'd forgotten to leave the door open, so it was hot inside Makai House. Like most homes in the up-country, Kau Ranch wasn't air-conditioned. It relied on the steady trade winds and ceiling fans to cool the rooms. Dana watched as Rob slid open the door that led onto the terrace, uncertain of just what to say, considering someone was listening to every word.
"Darling," she almost choked on the word. Rob spun around, silently laughing. "First dibs on the shower."
"Sure." He stripped off his shirt, pulling it over his head and ruffling his dark hair.
She scanned his torso, noting the hard planes of his chest and the contours of his muscles. A skein of hair darker than his tanned body trailed down his chest to the waistband of his shorts. Of their own volition, her eyes dropped to his crotch and the masculine bulge barely concealed by the fabric.
Instantly she forced her eyes back to his face, hoping he hadn't noticed. Of course, he had. He flashed her a sensual grin, his shirt dangling from his hand. He tossed it over a chair and reached for his belt buckle. It was off and hanging over the same chair before she could open her mouth.