Daughter of Fire
Courtney Sheets
The moment Kalama arrives in Hawaii, the lure of the island and the power of the volcano rush through her like the welcoming caress of a long-denied lover. Pele has called her home to deal with the growing threat against Hawaii and her residents. There’s no time to appreciate the lush landscape—or the gorgeous backside of the infuriating Jack O’Conner, who wears his disdain of ancient Hawaiian myth like a big, shiny beacon.
The last thing Jack wants is some USGS expert on Hawaiian lore wrecking his research. But Kalama isn’t remotely what he expects. Jack’s more than happy to let her wreck his research, his bedroom…and anything else she wants. Their attraction is immediate and the sex is scorching. Even amidst growing danger, they can’t help but appreciate each other in every gorgeous setting the Big Island has to offer. But when something threatens the Goddess of Fire, it threatens all of Hawaii, especially the budding relationship between Jack and Kalama.
A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
DAUGHTER OF FIRE
Courtney Sheets
Chapter One
“What are you up to, Pele?” Jack O’Conner’s voice floated on the early morning haze shrouding Kilauea. Jack hugged the coffee mug closer to his chest and stared out over the desolate lava field. The much-needed caffeine worked its way into his bloodstream, jump-starting his sleep-deprived brain. He had been up way too early this morning to be a fully functioning adult, yet here he stood staring at glowing lava at the god awful hour of six. Thanks to the industrial-strength cup of Kona coffee in his hand, he would be right as rain in no time.
Taking a soothing swig, Jack savored the faintly nutty flavor of the coffee before heading to the battered brown Jeep for the short drive back to the observatory. He needed to check the six pendulums monitoring seismic activity along the entire crater.
A weak layer of volcanic fog covered the ground. The faint smell of sulfur tugged at his taste buds and filled his nostrils. Jack ran a hand through his hair. Kilauea was erupting. That fact alone was nothing out of the ordinary to Jack and the thousands of visitors to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park. Kilauea was always erupting. But something odd was going on here and it had Jack baffled.
He couldn’t find a scientific explanation for the amount of magma flowing from the Pu’u O’o crater. His team had run test after test in the months Jack had been stationed here, but nothing conclusive was ever reported. The consistent eruption coupled with some serious thefts at the park left him frustrated and angry.
Religious offerings made to the volcano goddess at the edge of the Halema’uma’u Crater had either been destroyed or stolen in the past weeks. The kahunas, the local holy men, were breathing down Jack’s neck for an explanation. He simply didn’t have one to give and it was driving him crazy.
He’d asked the local police force for help, but so far no suspects had turned up, or any reason for the thefts beyond petty vandalism. Jack sighed in frustration, feeling helpless, an emotion he was not at all comfortable with. He was a volcanologist, not Sherlock Holmes.
His cell phone beeped, alerting him to a text message. Jack placed the travel mug on the dash and reached into the back pocket of his faded jeans and extracted the phone. The screen blinked, inquiring as to his whereabouts. He shot off a quick response to let his team leader, Nani, know he was on his way in and tossed the annoying thing on the passenger seat. He hated cell phones. They disrupted the peace and quiet he so desperately sought at the crater’s edge. Still he got the lab’s need to keep tabs on him. Disasters were never far away when you spent your day working next to the most active volcano in the world.
Sliding the key into the ignition, he started the engine and headed in the direction of the observatory.
After a few bone-jarring minutes along the bumpy service road later, Jack turned the Jeep into the parking lot perched on the western rim of Kilauea. He smiled to himself, he was lucky to be working on the world’s most active volcano. A boyhood dream realized for the kid from Arizona. Jack’s phone screeched, making its existence known again. Disgusted, he grabbed for the phone and checked the caller ID. His smile widened when he saw his best friend, Sam Kanaka’ole’s, name on the small screen. Sam had been the first person to introduce him to surfing and all things Hawaiian when Jack had moved to Hilo from Tucson three years ago.
“Hi, bro. What’s up?” Jack looked at the clock on the dash. “Isn’t it a little early for you?”
He wrinkled his brow in confusion. As an officer for the Hawaii County Police Department, Sam worked the night shift during the week and was stationed in Hilo, a short drive from HVO. Early mornings weren’t his usual thing.
“Braddah, we’ve got a serious problem.” While Sam’s voice held an easygoing lilt, something dark ran just below the surface. The tone alone told Jack his friend was troubled.
“What kind of problem?”
“Your security guys called me early this morning and I mean early, dude. It was like around four when I was just about to get off shift. The door’s been smashed and some stuff stolen from the museum. There’s glass everywhere because whoever did it destroyed some display cases too. They are pulling the video surveillance now. You better come down and take a look,” Sam said.
“Shit. This is not happening. Not now.” Jack slammed a palm against the steering wheel. First the offerings had been vandalized and now artifacts. “I don’t need this today, man. That new assistant is set to arrive this morning. I have to get him up to speed.”
“I understand, Jack. But I need you to get down here, okay? You’ll have to help fill out the reports.” Sam clicked off, leaving Jack to stare angrily out over the caldera. This couldn’t have come at a worse time. He had enough to deal with already, namely an assistant he didn’t want and was saddled with despite numerous protests. He’d fought like a wild thing over myriad phone calls and emails to the head office, but to no avail. Jack preferred to run HVO with his tried and true skeleton crew at the observatory.
Most of his team of four had been with him for two years now and understood what made him tick. They stayed out of his way, let him do his job. It was a perfect arrangement and what he needed to keep HVO running.
What he didn’t need was some supposed expert on Hawaiian culture to come in and screw up that balance. As far as Jack was concerned, a volcanologist didn’t need to understand the culture, just the big, fire-belching monster he was sent to study.
Unfortunately the USGS, United States Geological Survey, didn’t see it the same way. He was supposed to meet Dr. Young at the Volcano House this morning at nine, a chore he wasn’t looking forward to in the least. But right now he had to deal with missing artifacts and a disheveled museum not ready for the public.
* * * * *
Yellow crime scene tape covered the far doorway of the museum. Shattered glass littered the entry tile floor. Something big and mean had come through the door, wrecking havoc on everything it touched like a tsunami. A sweet-smelling tropical breeze danced in, twisting the crime scene tape like a ribbon trapped in a bicycle spoke.
Hushed voices and scuffing shoes were the only noise in the room. The faint music of tourist families drifted in from just beyond the shattered door. He shook his head in disgust. No way could he let them open the museum today.
“What was taken?” Sam stood pad in hand, poised to write down every item Jack mentioned in an effort to catalogue the missing artifacts.
“Not much, a smaller lava rock exercise ball and a glyph page on ti cloth on loan from Iolani Palace. The Bishop Foundation is going to have my head if we don’t get them back.” Jack turned his gaze on his friend. Sam wore a weary expression. Lines tugged at the man’s eyes and his normally stro
ng posture was bent with fatigue.
“Why would someone take such random items?” Sam asked. The tall Hawaiian walked over to the smashed display case that had contained the glyph page.
“I have no idea. Just like I have no clue why someone has been destroying the offerings left on the ridge. You need to catch whoever is doing this, Sam. It’s getting out of control.” Frustrated, Jack ran a hand through his hair.
“What was on the cloth that would make it so valuable? Why would someone want it?” Sam came to stand next to his friend. Several other police officers and the daytime security guard milled around the room. A crime scene photographer snapped pictures of the damage.
“It was a drawing of some kind of tiki carving. No one has really been able to translate the full meaning. What I do know is at one time it belonged to Kamehameha the Great. I have no idea why someone would run off with it. It’s not exactly something you can hawk on eBay.”
“What about the lava ball?” Sam asked.
“It was used by the Ali’I for exercise, kind of like a Polynesian medicine ball. The one taken has a few carvings on it that others don’t. Most lava balls are perfectly smooth, with the normal pitting of lava but no glyphs or carvings.” Jack’s cell phone beeped. “Damn it!” He snatched the blasted thing from his belt and checked the message.
“What’s up, doc?” Sam grinned at him, his wicked sense of humor in full swing despite the seriousness of the situation.
“It seems the illustrious Dr. Young has decided to grace us with his presence.” The sarcasm in Jack’s voice made Sam’s smile grow wider.
“He’s that assistant they‘re making you hire, right?” Sam said, laughter still teasing his words.
“Yes. In addition to being a volcanologist of some renown, apparently Dr. Young is also some sort of a forensic anthropologist. I have no idea how he is going to be able to help me other then be underfoot,” Jack snarled. He didn’t mean to snap at his friend, but Sam simply grinned.
“We’re done here for now if you need to go, brah. Me, I’m heading over to the Volcano House to have some breakfast. Eggs and Spam are calling me.” Jack watched as Sam nodded to the other officers in the room and headed out into the sunshine.
“I’ll go with you. That’s where I’m meeting Dr. Young. Hope he’s not some tweed-covered asshole.”
Chapter Two
“Damn, brah, check out the body on that one. She’s one hot wahine,” Sam Kanaka’ole said over his breakfast of Loco Moco. The dish was a strange conglomeration of white rice, a hamburger patty, and a fried egg all covered in brown gravy. Just the sight of the calorie-laden, heart-clogging meal made Jack’s stomach recoil. He had no idea how his friend ate so much and stayed in fighting shape.
“I thought you wanted Spam and eggs?”
“This is better,” Sam wiggled his eyebrows comically and shoved a forkful of the mess into his mouth. Jack took a swig of coffee, glad that his friend had accompanied him to The Volcano House after checking out the incident at the Jaggar Museum up the hill.
Jack wasn’t sure he was up to meeting the new assistant the USGS had sent to help him out. Sam was his wingman in this endeavor. He didn’t need some supposed expert on Hawaiian culture to come in and screw up that balance. As far as Jack was concerned, a volcanologist didn’t need to understand the culture, just the big fire-belching monster he was sent to study.
Glancing at his watch, Jack heaved a sigh when he realized it was fifteen past. Great.
Sam laughed and took another healthy bite of Loco Moco. At Jack’s disgusted look, Sam gestured toward the windows lining the back of the restaurant with his chin. Jack sighed again and turned in the direction Sam pointed. In that instant his heart slammed into his rib cage. He felt as if he had been kicked in the chest. Every bit of air rushed from his lungs when he locked his gaze on the woman in question.
She stood at the huge bay window overlooking the caldera, her faced turned away, her body outlined perfectly in the molten rays of early dawn. Riots of black hair streaked with red spilled down her back and well past her shapely butt. Her incredibly curvy frame was encased in body-hugging khaki shorts and a flaming red tank top that showed off miles of bronzed skin. A backpack was slung over one shoulder and sturdy hiking boots were on her feet. She was thought-jumbling, soul-stealing and teasingly captivating. He willed her to turn around, certain her face couldn’t be as beautiful as her body promised. It had to be a trick of the morning light in the restaurant and his lack of sleep wreaking havoc on his fevered brain. Worrying about the status of Kilauea had him seeing mirages.
As if hearing his silent entreaty, the woman turned and looked over to where he and Sam sat. Sexual need crashed into to him hard and fast. Sensuously full lips colored a natural pink pulled into an annoyed smirk when she met his gaze. Eyes so black they mirrored the obsidian formed by cooling lava bored through him. As if reading his carnal thoughts, the woman arched one slender eyebrow in amusement. Jack gave himself a mental shake. He wasn’t like this. He was always in control. Never had a woman affected him so fast or so powerfully. If the expression on her beautiful face was any indication, she was not experiencing the same attraction. Frankly she looked downright disgusted with him. Stepping away from the window, she began a slow, liquid walk toward them.
“She’s headed over here, brah.” Sam’s voice was a husky whisper. Jack imagined his friend suffered from the same affliction as him, a terminal case of lust. The woman crossed the distance between them. Her movements were fluid, pulling the gazes of every man and some of the women in the room. Not that he blamed them. Hell, he couldn’t tear his eyes from her.
Finally coming to a stop in front of them, she licked her lips once, annoyance dancing in those dark eyes.
“Dr. O’Connor?” Her husky voice slid down his body and teased his senses. Blood rushed to his groin as desire raged through him. Jack met the dark depths of her gaze and felt himself sink deep.
“I’m Dr. O’Connor, but I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.” Jack rose to his feet, barely recovering his voice. Her exotic beauty effectively robbed his breath and fried his brain. She came up to the top of his shoulders, putting her at around five-foot-seven to his six feet. If he claimed those lush lips, she would have to lift up onto her tiptoes to press those delicious breasts against him.
Where had that thought come from? He needed sleep. That had to be the only excuse for his suddenly overactive libido. Too much time spent staring at reams of data about volcanic eruptions and not enough time spent concentrating on eruptions of a sexual kind was starting to take its toll on his psyche.
“I believe you’ve been expecting me,” she said, a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes grew on her beautiful face. Minutes ticked by as Jack drank in the sight of her. His mouth went dry and refused to form coherent speech. Sam grunted in amusement at his friend’s uncharacteristic lack for words.
“Dr. O’Connor, are you all right?” Sam’s foot shot out from under the table and covertly kicked him in the heel.
“What? Oh, yes I’m fine?” Jack stared, dumbfounded at the luscious creature before him. “Wait, did you say I was expecting you?”
“I’m Dr. Young. Dr. Kalama Young. The USGS sent me.”
“She’s no tweed-covered asshole, brah,” Sam said under his breath. Jack shot his friend a scathing glance, regretting his earlier comment. Instantly Kalama’s demeanor changed as she focused her attention on Sam. Laughter rang out in the restaurant, full-bodied and rich, bubbling up from inside her to skate along Jack’s nerve endings. Her smile, which before had only appeared to be a mask of politeness morphed into a wide grin. Jealousy stabbed at him. Why hadn’t she looked at him with those beautiful eyes sparkling the way they did for Sam? He shifted his stance in an attempt to hide the growing evidence of how appealing he found her.
“I hate tweed.” Kalama returned her attention to Jack and offered a hand. A wry smile tugged at her mouth. On lust-induced autopilot, he shook the proffered
hand. Electricity sizzled from the brief touch.
“Are you usually this talkative?” Kalama asked, a sarcastic lilt flavoring her words.
“Actually yes, sistah, he is.” Sam laughed and turned his attention back to his breakfast, obviously enjoying the show.
“Sorry. I was just shocked. You look different than I expected.”
“How am I supposed to look?” Kalama asked.
“Like a geologist.”
“I’m wearing the prerequisite khaki shorts and heavy hiking boots handed out to geology majors upon graduation.” It dawned on him that she was teasing him. Jack stared at her dumbfounded. People didn’t tease him.
“Honestly, Dr. Young, I was expecting a man and you are definitely not a man,” Jack said, finally pulling himself out of his sexual haze.
““I’m not? Wow, I was worried for a second,” she said as she raised a single amused eyebrow at them.
“No she isn’t,” Sam said. Kalama turned the full force of her gaze back to the police officer. She smiled teasingly at him. Tamping down the jealousy attacking him, Jack remembered his manners and introduced Kalama to his best friend.
As the pair chatted, Jack allowed himself a closer inspection of the sexy woman who had captivated him. He let his gaze roam her curves unchecked. Kalama’s hair, while ebony as cooling lava, was shot with strands of silver and red. The style gave her an edginess not usually associated with people in their chosen field. Ripe breasts strained against the cotton of her tank top. A solitary teardrop pendant of obsidian rested in the valley between her breasts. He had the strongest urge to lick the place where the stone sat. His palms itched to cup those luscious mounds, which would most certainly fill his hands to overflowing. Her hips flared out in an utterly feminine way and she had the most perfect ass he had ever seen. Too bad it appeared she had the warmth of a rattlesnake when it came to him. Sam seemed to be exempt from her cool stare. Perhaps it had something to do with Jack being a haole. Dr. Young obviously had some strong Hawaiian blood running through her veins.
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