by Lakes, Lynde
Lani waved. Her heart pounded in erratic throbs. He made her feel desirable, reckless, and more alive than ever before. Sharing an hour with him had been so natural that for a little while she’d forgotten the nightmares and visions. Off balance, she’d allowed herself to be drawn deeper into the quicksand of something she didn’t understand. Had she just made a terrible mistake?
Chapter Ten
Cort parked in front of Lani’s house and vaulted out of his car. It was still sunny, but the breeze had cooled the late afternoon and brought relief from the stifling heat. He’d worked out in the sun most of the day and welcomed the coolness. He was almost to the porch when a question slowed his stride. Why was he in such a hurry? The answer shook him—he wanted Lani so much that every moment without her was just marking time. Dammit, why had he let her get under his skin? Was he really such a rat that he’d pursue a woman who would expect more than a man stuck with his father’s cheating genes could give? And Keo’s granddaughter to boot?
At least his other worry about her had worked itself out. She wouldn’t have taken a job in Loo’s office if she still planned to close down the construction. As project broker, Loo wouldn’t hire someone who wasn’t completely loyal. Lani’s change of mind put a new perspective on his interest in her. But he had to keep it light. Uncomplicated. So why was he planning to give her the poem? Maybe he shouldn’t. In fact, he shouldn’t be here at all. But he’d never wanted to be anywhere more.
Cort took the wooden steps two at a time. When he knocked on the weatherworn door, its solidness thumped back at him. Lani opened the door immediately, as though she’d stationed herself on the other side, waiting for his knock. The sight of her took his breath away. Her hair lay in loose waves around her bare brown shoulders, and the white dress clung to the curve of her hips.
He stepped forward. Her perfume floated around him; the fragrance was subtle, light as a breeze, yet completely intoxicating. He fought a strong desire to take her into his arms. Island style, he placed a pikake lei over her head, letting it settle gently on her bare shoulders. The petals looked dewy against her skin. Her skin would feel dewy and cool beneath his lips. He confirmed it when he kissed her on the cheek.
Amber flecks glittered in her brown eyes. Her radiant smile and flushed cheeks told him she was as glad to see him as he was to see her. Adrenaline surged through him.
Sensing they weren’t alone, Cort looked up to find Lani’s Grandfather Keo smiling at him. “Komo mai,” the old man said in a booming voice. Cort knew the words translated roughly as “welcome and come on in.”
“Aloha nui loa,” Cort responded in return, speaking one of the few Hawaiian greetings he knew. It spoke of abundant love and time. He meant it to convey great respect, as the man was his favorite professor.
Keo’s handshake was strong and vigorous. Cort smiled. “I’m honored to see you again, sir.”
“This young man was one of my more promising students, Lani,” Keo said. “Still painting, Cort?”
“Yes, sir. Not as often as I’d like but—”
“Forget that sir stuff, I’m just Keo now.” He chuckled. “Retired to fishing and the easy life.”
They talked a few more minutes about Keo’s latest fishing adventure, then said goodnight and strolled out the door.
****
Lani tried to ignore the way Cort’s big hand on her arm sent her heart into a crazy quick-beat. He led her to a bright red Porsche. Earlier, he’d been driving a battered truck. “Nice wheels,” she said, surprised.
“Birthday present to myself.”
She smiled. “Generous to a fault, aren’t you?”
He grinned and seated her, then rounded the car and eased his impressive frame into the bucket seat. Lani basked in the smell and feel of the leather seats, trembling a bit from the presence of this very desirable man.
He sat there a moment, staring at her, looking hesitant.
“Are you waiting for me to say something?” she asked.
His jaw tightened as though gearing up to do something difficult for him. Finally, he sighed and reached under his seat and withdrew a gift box secured with a pink ribbon.
As he handed it to her, a joyful shiver danced up her spine. “What’s this?”
“Open it and see.”
Ignoring her hesitation to spoil the lovely ribbon, she pulled back the tissue paper and exposed a burgundy ceramic picture frame encircled with delicate pink roses. The antique frame held a poem inscribed in black script on pink paper.
“You wrote this?” Was he really so sentimental?
He nodded, looking shy. “The day I met you. I’d never written a poem before, but the words just flowed into my head.”
The words flowed into his head—as though dictated to him. Lani shuddered. Maybe she wasn’t the only one controlled by the elusive force. She cleared her throat. “This is so sweet.”
Cort flushed. “It was strange as hell. Instead of doing my weekly report, I was writing poetry for a woman I never expected to see again.”
She’d known she would see him again. Their opposing interests in the site guaranteed it.
Cort started the car and slowly proceeded around the circular dirt driveway and out onto the dirt road. Local fragrances of plumeria, ginger and pikake drifted in through the open window.
“I shoved the poem in a drawer.” Cort shook his head, looking puzzled. “After seeing you today, I knew I had to give it to you.”
Lani read the poem aloud, struggling to keep her soft voice from wavering.
We dared enter an enchanted paradise of golden sand,
comforted by the strength of our true love’s hand.
Drumbeats awaken vivid images of native legends old.
Wailing throbs demand we trust sacred myths as told.
Lasting love, the diamond armor of the pulsing heart
shields our souls from a raging spirit’s fiery flames.
In misty realms we seize the strength to never part.
The words about true love and never parting made Lani smile. However, it died on her lips at the thought of raging spirits. She shivered, sensing once again that there was something sinister at work here.
“Cold?” Cort reached toward the air-conditioning knob.
Without thinking, she placed her hand over his to stop him. “No. It’s fine.” Touching his warm, work-hardened skin made her heart race faster.
She refused to let her fears spoil her pleasure. The poem was…well…she didn’t know what it was, but it was thoughtful of him to give it to her. Impulsively, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He had a clean, musky smell. Her heart throbbed out of control. She shouldn’t have done that. She was too easily aroused by him.
“You look upset. Was it the poem?”
She shook her head and hugged the gift to her breast. “It’s touching.”
No man had ever given her something so personal before. He continued to amaze her, but she couldn’t chance another date. Tonight was all they’d ever have.
“Ever eat kalua turkey?” Cort asked.
She nodded, smiling. “When I was about three or four and lived on the Big Island, Grandfather and Papa dug a hole and baked our Thanksgiving turkey in the imu. Nothing can compare with pit cooking. Best turkey I ever had.”
“Fantastic memory.” Cort maneuvered the car from the rutted dirt road onto the main highway. “Have you ever flown in a helicopter?”
“Helicopter? Well, no. Why?”
“Guess I forgot to tell you the lu’au feast is in Hilo.”
“Hilo!”
“Yeah. Thought I’d fly us over.”
“Surely you’re kidding?” His flair for the unexpected charmed her beyond anything she could have anticipated, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to go to the Big Island after her last experience when the 747 had problems there.
“Dead serious. Do you mind?”
Lani laughed, still not sure if he was pulling her leg. She pushed away her apprehensions. “I c
an’t think of anything I’d rather do.” Boy, had she ever picked the wrong clothes for this date. Oh, well, if he didn’t care, she didn’t either.
Their glance met. The excitement that sparkled in his eyes sent a warm glow through her.
“Good,” he said, grinning. “Going over, we’ll have daylight and a bird’s eye view of the beaches. Coming back, we’ll have the spectacular Honolulu-Waikiki night lights.”
So he was a pilot, too. She was impressed.
At the heliport, Cort guided her to the boarding area. The helicopter thundered and jumped in place, straining to lift off. Its engine’s deafening roar set Lani’s teeth on edge. Propeller wash from whipping rotors surrounded them in a turbulent cloud of dust. Of all colors in her closet, she’d had to pick white? Cort’s grip was warm and firm as he urged her forward. Her clothes lost importance as apprehension came to the forefront. It’ll be okay, she assured herself. She took a determined breath as they ducked low to board the craft.
She had to hike her dress high on her thighs to climb in. She blushed at the amused gleam in Cort’s eyes. He was enjoying this far too much.
After Cort did an instrument check and spoke briefly to someone on the radio, he sent the helicopter surging skyward, away from the heliport. He moved with such confidence. Everything about him radiated virility. A shiver of excitement rippled over her skin.
Because of the tremendous noise, normal conversation was impossible. Cort had provided her with a headset, but even with it on she had trouble hearing.
She was aware how close his hand was to her leg. Tendons moved beneath his tan skin as he adjusted the controls. What would it feel like to have those strong hands touching her? She found it difficult to breathe.
As they approached the big island of Hawai’i, the Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea mountain ranges loomed before them. He passed so close to the cliffs she imagined she could reach out and touch them. He flew over vast areas of the island. Views blended from luxurious grasslands and tropical forests to expansive clean beaches. He was giving her the grand tour. When Cort pointed out the Punaluu black sand beaches along the south coast, she was in awe.
Later, he shouted information about Parker Ranch. Lani heard only about half of what he was saying. “I’ll show you Rainbow Falls and the Hamakua Coast another time,” he said.
In the distance, haze shrouded the sky with a gray blanket. She frowned. Kilauea was on this island! A chill slid down her spine, remembering what happened the last time she’d passed over the volcano. When they turned away, she relaxed back into the seat. She didn’t want to think about nearly being drawn into the crater or her frightening nightmares about Cort. Tonight she just wanted to enjoy herself.
The coral sun was sinking into the horizon as Cort put the craft down at Hilo. A long white limousine waited.
Lani shook her head. “A limo to go to a lu’au?”
He winked. “Don’t get too impressed. My friend, King, makes his living driving a limo and uses it for personal use, too.”
King hugged them both, not singling her out as a stranger. He was a slight built man with dark skin and a long salt and pepper ponytail hanging to his waist. He wore short khaki pants and a green flowered aloha shirt. If everyone were dressed casually, she would stand out like the flashing light on a cop car.
When they arrived at King’s wind-worn clapboard house, he drove to the rear over a circular, rutted dirt drive, past a dozen haphazardly parked trucks and vans. Under a portable white awning, a crowd of about twenty dark-skinned people listened to a Sumo-sized Hawaiian man nimbly playing slack key guitar. Cort knew everyone there and introduced her around. Seeing a few other women in dresses, she felt the tension roll from her shoulders. A man named Spud flicked a switch and dozens of lanterns lit up the darkening sky.
Smoke curled from a hole in the ground and aromas of baked turkey wafted on the breeze. Her stomach growled in anticipation. Someone shoved a can of soda into Lani’s hand. Long tables, decorated with at least a dozen balloons, were set up with favorite foods from many cultures including ‘ahi, albacore, steamed rice, poi from the taro plant, sashimi, kim-chee and chow fun. Another table was loaded with cakes and pies.
A woman named Gigi thrust a baby into her arms. “This is Joy, the star of the party,” she said.
The child smiled, revealing deep dimples, and touched Lani’s face. With the scent of baby powder swirling around her, an unfamiliar ache of longing shot through Lani. She braced herself and, as soon as it was polite, she handed Joy back to her mother. Somehow Cort ended up with the little girl. He wasn’t so quick to give the child back. He played with her for a long time, both of them laughing like monkeys. He had a real flair with kids. Lani smiled, wishing this moment could last.
During the lu’au, she learned that most of the men were in construction. The others, men and women, worked in the tourism industry. Watching the warmth between Cort and his friends reminded her of the parties Mama and Papa used to have at the old homestead. A wave of melancholy washed over her, making her more determined to find out more about her family.
“You okay?” Cort asked. It surprised her that with all that was going on around them—the storytelling, the laughter—that Cort was as aware of her as she was of him.
“Great. I love your friends,” she whispered.
She couldn’t stop looking at Cort. He was so masculine. Working outside had lightened his hair and tanned his skin to a smooth copper. He filled out his mint-colored Tori Richard’s silk shirt with a chest and shoulders muscled by hard labor. The color of his shirt accentuated the green in his eyes. His open collar contributed to his air of reckless good looks.
Cort looked down at himself with a look of consternation. “What? Is something wrong?”
Lani blushed, embarrassed he’d caught her staring so intently at him. “I’m just happy to be here with you.”
She touched one of the red balloons tied to the end of the table and it bounced in the air. What an understatement, she thought. Being here with Cort among his friends felt like she had regained a little piece of something she’d lost. Cort’s gaze held hers like a powerful magnet. “I’m glad you’re having fun, because I am too.” His deep, husky voice vibrated within her.
Her heart pounded. Calm down, she told herself. It would be embarrassing if he knew the extent of his effect on her.
He took a bite of cake, deftly handling a dab of wayward frosting. Her face grew warm as she wondered what other magic feats he could do with that agile tongue. She felt like fanning herself with her napkin. Instead, she reached for a slice of cold pineapple, thinking how wrong she’d been about Cort. Or was this great-guy demeanor a ploy? What was she doing? Maybe her best friend, Bev, was right about her. Even when things were going well with a man, she looked for trouble.
A girl with stringy hair, still damp from a dip in a nearby pond, started playing the drums. A guy, about seventeen, ignited a pole and began to do a wild fire dance. Flames licked the night sky. The fire held Lani’s gaze—she shuddered, fighting a wave of unexplainable foreboding.
Chapter Eleven
The warmth of Cort’s firm hand on Lani’s back as he helped her into the limo should have soothed her uneasiness. Instead, her foreboding grew stronger, increasing as the limousine sped toward the helicopter. Even the brotherly hugs they exchanged with King, the limo driver, before leaving didn’t distract her from her sense of impending danger.
Back in the air, Lani adjusted her headset so she wouldn’t miss anything Cort had to say. Her nerves were as taut as a drawn bow. He touched her arm. An awakening stirred where his hand rested. Her fight-or-flight trepidation vaulted to a sexual tension.
“Get ready to see the sight of a lifetime!” He pointed to the scattered curtains of fire and the zigzagging orange molten river in the distance. “Hold on. Going in for a closer look.”
Her flash of desire gave way to dread. She shrank back into the seat. “Aren’t there aviation laws about getting too close?”
“Don’t worry. I won’t jeopardize my license.”
“I was thinking about our lives. Not permits.” Whirring propellers drowned out her words. Lani dug her fingers into the seat.
The volcano flared a fiery warning into the black vog-shrouded sky. As they approached, the helicopter’s rotors whipped gray smoke in a swirling tornado.
Lani stiffened as a bright red light blinked on the instrument panel. The engine whined, and the craft began to vibrate. Heart pounding, she glanced at Cort. His urgent movements sent new fear surging through her.
Kilauea churned below them. Volcano bursts drowned out the earsplitting roar of the helicopter. Suddenly the craft spun downward toward the pit of liquid fire. Lani shot forward against her seatbelt. Sulfur fumes filled the sweatbox cockpit. Perspiration rolled from Cort’s brow.
“Oh my God!” Lani shrieked. “We’re going in!”
“Stay calm! We’ll be okay.”
Lani’s attention shifted back and forth from the volcano to Cort. His lips formed a tight line, his eyes fixed on the instrument panel as he fought to bring the craft under control.
They dropped lower, heading into the mouth of the crater. The hazy face of a hag glared at them from within the boiling lava. Claw-like fingers reached out of the shooting orange flames and grabbed for them.
“No!” Lani screamed.
Cort’s focus stayed with the instrument panel as he struggled to pull the craft out of its spin. Paralyzed with terror, Lani closed her eyes and prayed harder than she’d ever prayed before.
“Hang on!” he shouted.
The craft lurched upward, away from the caldron of fire. Back in control, Cort nosed the chopper toward the sea and headed for Honolulu.
Lani collapsed back into the seat. Her clothes clung like steamed leather.
Cort patted her hand. “It’s okay. We’re safe now.”
Lani nodded, trying to pull herself together. Her hands cramped from clutching the seat. “Did you see her? Tell me you saw her.”
“Who?”
“Pele.”