Primitive Flame

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Primitive Flame Page 3

by Lakes, Lynde


  “Certainly not.”

  When she tried to get up again, he grabbed her shoulders and eased her back against the pillows. “Stay calm, Lani.”

  “I’m perfectly calm.”

  “Sure you are. Everyone’s eyes flash like flames in a roaring fire when they’re calm.”

  “I’m not a nut!”

  “Whatever you say.” He looked toward the door. “Dammit, where the hell are the paramedics? I’ll look after you until they arrive, but then you’ll be their problem.”

  “Problem! You don’t know the half of it, Mr. Wayne.”

  He raked his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s been a hellish week.” He offered her the cup again. “Maybe you’d like more water?”

  Lani waved it away.

  “Do you have family here? Someone I could call?”

  “I live with my grandfather, but he’s out fishing.”

  Cort kept staring at her with those intense eyes. Lani wanted to be angry with him, but other emotions got in the way. She smoothed the muumuu flat against her waist to conceal a shiver of excitement. It was ridiculous to let her dream bond with this man carry over into real life, but she seemed helpless to stop it.

  Lani heard the wail of a siren, and a minute later a wiry young man in a white uniform stuck his head in the doorway. “Someone here call for paramedics?”

  Cort exhaled in relief and moved out of the way. “Yes. Yes. This woman fainted.”

  Lani glared at him. He was entirely too eager to get rid of her. He might think his problems were over, but they had just begun. For one thing, she wasn’t going anywhere with the EMTs. Cort could forget that idea entirely.

  The wiry EMT sat down next to Lani, and after he checked her pulse and blood pressure, he asked if she’d ever fainted before. She shook her head, feeling ridiculous.

  “Vitals are normal, Miss,” he said, “but we’d better get you to an ER and let a doc take a look.”

  “No. I’m fine now.” She didn’t need doctors probing around her body when she feared the problem behind her fainting was some kind of unworldly possession.

  “Better take her,” Cort said. “She’s hallucinating…thinks this is sacred ground.”

  Lani lifted her chin. “It is. And I’ll decide what I need.”

  Another EMT who’d appeared in the doorway shortly after the first medic had been listening to the exchange and handed a clipboard to the paramedic sitting next to her.

  “If you’re sure, Miss,” the wiry guy said. “Sign here.” He pointed to a form that stated she’d refused hospital care.

  She scribbled her name and returned it to him.

  Cort raked his fingers through his hair. “What if she faints again?”

  The paramedic paused in the doorway. “Get her to the hospital.” He glanced at Lani. “Better have your own doctor check you out, Miss.”

  Lani nodded and forced a small smile. The EMTs saluted and disappeared out the door. In fascination, she watched Cort’s jaw muscles tighten.

  He leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. “You should’ve gone with them.”

  She stood slowly on wobbly knees, then sank back down.

  Cort frowned. “Take your time. Rest a while longer.”

  “I just want to go home.” She’d made him aware of the relics, and there was nothing more she could do here today. Lani pulled her car keys from her pocket.

  Before she could stop Cort, he’d grabbed them. “I’ll take you. You’re in no condition to drive. Tom can bring me back.” Cort thrust a pen and pad at her. “Write down your address.”

  A protest rose to her lips, then died. He was right. She wasn’t in any condition to drive. She scribbled her address, and Cort ripped the paper from the pad.

  He took her arm, his fingers warm against her skin, and helped her out the door and down the steps. Not far away, a man rode a huge backhoe, methodically digging the pit deeper and deeper, exposing red clay. When the man backed up, a clanging bell rang its warning. He started his equipment forward again. Suddenly from the branches of a banyan tree, one of the few still standing, flocks of birds flapped their wings and escaped to the sky.

  “You’re destroying their home, their refuge.” Lani stopped and tried to shake off Cort’s hold.

  He glared down at her, then gripped her arm tighter and firmly guided her forward. “Tom!” he shouted. “Give me about a fifteen minute head start, then come to this address.”

  Tom grabbed the slip of paper and nodded.

  Lani wanted to stay and stop the destruction, but she’d need help to prove that relics were buried here. She squelched an uncharacteristic urge to kick Cort in the shins. Instead, she allowed him to lead her forward. In spite of the fact that she was not at all sure she wanted him driving her car. He might strip the gears, or worse…

  Chapter Four

  Cort watched Lani gracefully ease her hips into the car. She followed with the rest of her perfect body—a blessing of curves he’d like very much to paint. Nude. She smoothed her muumuu in a failed attempt to keep the modest slit in the side of her skirt from riding up and showing a hint of thigh. Damn. I’m being tested by a mischievous god of temptation…And failing.

  He backed Lani’s car off the site, skidding and throwing a cloud of dust into the air. Its fine residue settled over the little yellow Toyota. A pang of guilt at his display of frustration led him to slow when he pulled onto the highway.

  Why did this woman disturb him so much? She stared straight ahead, huddled tightly against the door, hands clutched in her lap. Her fingers were bare, no engagement ring, wedding band, or rings of any kind. It was odd how that small observation lifted his spirits. Still her rigidity got to him, and he felt his body tense in sympathy. “Look, relax. You’re gonna be fine.”

  “I’m sorry I caused you all this trouble.”

  “No trouble.” He braked at a stoplight and glanced at her. “You look local, but you sound like a mainlander.”

  Her face softened, and she actually laughed. “I’m a boomerang local. Born on the Big Island, but spent most of my life in San Diego. Returned only two weeks ago.”

  Lani’s silvery laugh and soft, clear voice enchanted him. “Your parents moved to the mainland?”

  “Foster parents. It’s rather complicated. My birth parents died years ago.”

  “I’m sorry. What happened?”

  Her face flushed. “You’re just being sociable, and I don’t want to sound rude, but I don’t pour out my guts to strangers.”

  Cort shifted in his seat, stunned by the undercurrent of anger and pain in her voice. He glanced at Lani. She nibbled the corner of her lower lip, looking miserable. So, she didn’t want to talk about her parents’ deaths. That was okay. He’d try safer ground. “What brought you back to Hawai’i?”

  “A spur of the moment thing. But I love it here. It’s as if I truly belong, like I’m home at last.”

  She looked straight at him with those large, dark eyes. Distracted, he almost ran a red light. He maneuvered to the outside lane and slowed. All of a sudden he wasn’t in such a hurry to get rid of the soft-spoken, enigmatic young woman. “What’s your grandpa’s name?” Cort groaned under his breath. Brilliant conversation, buddy. But small talk was better than silence.

  “Keoni Keaulana,” she said with pride in her voice.

  Cort laughed. “Small world. I know him. He’s a professor in the Art Department at the University of Hawai’i.”

  She smiled. “Recently retired.”

  How ironic, he thought. What an unlikely situation: a tough, hard-nosed construction boss like himself attracted to a university prof’s granddaughter. If she had half the intellect of her grandfather, she was a skyscraper penthouse above him and their lifestyles were light years apart. Even driving her home was asking for trouble.

  What am I worried about? I won’t see her again. Feeling like he’d taken in too much oxygen, Cort grinned at her. “I took a class from the prof. Terrifi
c sense of humor. Great instructor.”

  “Kupuna kane is an amazing man, wise and kind.”

  Lani’s face glowed when she spoke of her grandfather. A warmth spread through Cort. “Earlier, you acted like we’d met before.”

  She hesitated and met his gaze. “I saw you there.” Her voice was soft, incredulous, as though she was still trying to figure it out herself.

  “At the site? When?” He stared at her intently, unaware the light had changed to green. A horn tooted. He took the hint and moved forward.

  Lani folded her arms and looked at him. “Can you handle the truth?”

  He couldn’t help grinning. “Try me.” She still looked doubtful, so he added, “Come on, what’s the big secret?”

  “I saw you in a dream.”

  “A dream?” He laughed. “This is a joke, right?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

  He shook his head. “Is that when you dreamed up the relics?”

  She glared at him with those incredible flashing brown eyes. “Don’t ask questions if you can’t take the answers!”

  He should have known better. The site wasn’t a safe subject for them. “Let’s forget the whole thing. It’s not worth getting your muumuu in a twist.”

  Talking to her was like crossing a damned minefield. Searching for a safe route flirted with danger. If he had any sense, he’d clam up until he got her home, but Lani’s combination of soft vulnerability, explosive fire and air of mystery made him curious as hell. Still, her ridiculous claims and environmental do-gooder bias were trouble with a capital T.

  An uncomfortable silence fell between them. The road snaked through a tangle of banana trees and ferns. They hadn’t passed a house for miles.

  “Your grandfather lives a long way from town,” Cort said, needing to break the hostile silence.

  “It was your idea to drive me home!”

  The sharp edge to her voice scraped over him like sandpaper. The way she slammed his innocent words back at him proved she was itching for a fight. But dammit, he wouldn’t buy into it. His dad had always said there were two theories to arguing with a woman—and neither one worked. “I wasn’t complaining. Just thought the professor would live closer to the university.”

  “He likes the seclusion, the serenity.” She lifted her chin. “I like it too.”

  That didn’t surprise Cort. His mind conjured up pictures of Lani wandering among the fragrant laua’e ferns and flowering hibiscus to a crystal clear pond. In filtered light, she would gracefully slip out of her muumuu, reveal her slim figure, that honey-colored skin…

  “Ahead, there at the rise,” Lani said. “Turn mauka onto the dirt road. Inland away from the sea.”

  There was laughter in her voice. He had a hunch she was mocking him. “It would’ve been quicker and safer to just say turn right.” Still reeling from fantasizing about her, he almost missed the turn onto the narrow rutted road.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, all signs of humor gone.

  After about a quarter of a mile, he pulled into the circular dirt driveway and parked in front of a freshly painted one-story wood frame dwelling built on slatted piers. The lanai across the front reminded him of the veranda that extended the length of his grandparents’ ranch house in Virginia.

  His mind, however, wasn’t on real estate. Lani’s yellow ginger lei filled the car with its fragrance. Lightheaded on the sweetness, he faced her and while holding her gaze he placed the keys in her hand. He slowly folded her fingers down over them. Her hands were soft and delicate. Heat rushed to his groin just touching her.

  If he didn’t leave the intimacy of the car at once, he’d do something stupid and touch more than her lovely long fingers. He slid from behind the wheel, gulping air like a drowning man.

  Over her protests and his own better judgment, he took her arm and helped her into the house, guiding her to the sofa. Piling pillows behind her back, Cort took care not to touch any bare skin. Her eyes darkened with that smoldering glow again. The look triggered an image of her nude body beneath his, twisting hotly in the throes of passion.

  “Won’t you sit down, Mr. Wayne,” she said in a voice too cool to be hospitable.

  “Tom will be here any minute now.” To put a distance between himself and the alluring temptation, Cort walked to the koa wood bookcase that covered a whole wall and ran his finger over the titles on the book bindings. “Interesting collection.” Many were first editions and valuable as hell.

  Cort loved to read. His English teacher mom had inbred the desire, but it wasn’t books that interested him at the moment. He ached to join that sensational Polynesian beauty there on the couch, touch her everywhere, then cover her soft body with his. He wiped his hand across his face, disturbed by his recurring lustful thoughts. Dammit, what’s wrong with me? I refuse to be a letch like dad.

  “Grandfather loves his books,” Lani said, her voice warming.

  Cort cleared his throat. “I always wanted a bookcase like that. Most of my books are in cardboard boxes.”

  Lani laughed. “Why don’t you build one for yourself, or get one of your carpenters to do it?”

  “No house to put it in.”

  Awareness lit up her eyes. “I see.”

  Sometime he’d like to pursue what she thought his footloose lifestyle told her about him. Did she assume he was an irresponsible, fly-by-night operator, all rough edges?

  He could be rough or tender, whatever she wanted. Cort raked his fingers through his hair. Where the devil were these thoughts coming from? Hell, I just met the woman.

  Cort quickly crossed the room and stopped in front of a triangle of shelves built into the corner. He pointed to a stone statue. “What’s this?”

  “An Aumakua.”

  “Ugly little fellow, isn’t he?”

  “I think he’s rather cute,” she said. “He’s one of the good supernatural beings—protects the home from evil.”

  “You believe in that stuff?”

  She shrugged, her expression closed. Cort tore his gaze away. He could think better if he didn’t look at her.

  On the koa wood coffee table, he spied three large stacks of Hawai’iana books. He leafed through the pages of the top book. “These yours?”

  Lani nodded.

  “You’re really into this stuff, aren’t you?”

  She touched the lava stone around her neck. “It’s me, Cort. My blood. My legacy.”

  The passion in her voice startled him. Did she make love with that much intensity? Damn, I’m doing it again. What the hell’s wrong with me?

  Outside, a horn blasted.

  “That’s Tom. I gotta go.” The quicker the better.

  She didn’t move a muscle. “Forgive me for not walking you to the door. I’m still shaky.”

  “Just get better.” And lose the crazy ideas.

  As though she sensed his thoughts, she said, “I wasn’t joking. You must stop construction at that site.”

  Cort glared at her, unable to keep his cool from slipping another notch. For a while she’d seemed rational. “I told you there aren’t any relics buried there. Our environmental impact report was approved.” He raked his fingers through his hair. Dammit. Just my luck to be attracted to a lunatic.

  “Someone must’ve slipped up.” Her voice softened. “You’ve been kind, bringing me home. But it’s only fair to warn you. I will stop your project.”

  Get in line, Babe! She wasn’t the only one who wanted to put him out of business. “Stay away from my site! It’s not safe for you there.” And with her around, it definitely wasn’t safe for him.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You can’t keep me away.”

  “Yes, Lani, I can.” He wasn’t as sure of that as he sounded. Somehow he didn’t mind his doubt. Even knowing the trouble she could cause, seeing her again might be worth it.

  Chapter Five

  Cort’s pickup truck’s speed blurred the tropical greenery along the winding narrow road. He hunched over
the wheel and floor-boarded the gas pedal, his gaze fixed ahead. He took the curves like a madman, hoping to escape his thoughts of Lani. Man, oh man, I’m in big trouble when she looks at me with those dark, almond-shaped eyes. Thoughts of her sent a lightning bolt of desire through him.

  His foreman clung to the handgrip over his head. “Got a death wish?” he muttered. Tom had driven out to pick him up, and now probably wished he’d driven both ways.

  “Sorry.” Cort forced himself to slow down.

  Tom exhaled and let go of the handgrip, but his body stayed rigid.

  “Something else bugging you?” Cort expected it to be about Lani and his reaction to her, but he couldn’t have been more wrong.

  “It’s Kimo,” Tom said. “I don’t know what to do about him.”

  “Do about him? What are you talking about?” Kimo was the youngest guy on the crew, barely nineteen. “What the kid lacks in experience he makes up for in enthusiasm.”

  “I have no problem with his work,” Tom said. “It’s after the job—when he goes home.”

  Cort knew some of the kid’s history. A few months ago Kimo reluctantly married Brandy, the girl he crudely said he’d knocked up. Thanks to the miracle of pregnancy kits, Brandy learned about the coming baby immediately after their protection failed. She was only about three weeks pregnant at the wedding. Kimo never mentioned love and admitted feeling trapped. Cort shook his head. Without mutual love, the quickie marriage was destined to fail. “Since when is our men’s after-hours time our business?”

  “Since he beat up his wife.”

  Cort felt like a wrecking ball had caught him in the gut. “He hit little Brandy?” Brandy was seventeen at the most, cute as a kitten, and from what Cort had seen, fiercely loyal. “Where’s Kimo?”

  “He took a couple of hours off to go to court to fight a speeding ticket. Probably deserved it. Just like some other people I know.” Tom sent Cort a meaningful look.

  Cort nodded, accepting the earned rebuke. “With Kimo gone, why’d Brandy come to the site?”

  “To talk to you. She got almost hysterical when I told her you weren’t there. She sees you as a big brother surrogate and wanted some advice.” Tom shook his head. “You shoulda seen her. Poor kid wore a scarf high on her neck, a hat that pretty much hid her face and ultra dark sunglasses. Instead of her usual cutoffs and halter-top, she wore a long-sleeved, ankle-length muumuu that looked hot as hell. She just sat in her car, not getting out, not moving. When I asked her if she was okay, she burst into tears and said Kimo had beaten her up. Said it wasn’t the first time.”

 

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