“Well,” he drawled, dropping his foot to the tarmac and unwinding slowly, “you could do me a favor, Ms. Dawson.” He stood up and met her halfway. “I really would like a photo of you standing next to your bird here. How about it?”
Kulani smiled a little and gazed up at him. This man was so confident it sizzled out of every pore. “I don’t normally pose for customers, Mr. Carson.”
He saw her frown a little at his request and intuitively realized that his sunglasses might be offputting, so he removed them and looked deeply into her eyes. Instantly, he saw them widen with what he thought was surprise, and then…pleasure? Was that what he was reading in them? Dev was unsure. However, he was sure that he wanted Kulani.
Kulani choked back a little gasp of pleasure when Jack Carson spontaneously took off his dark sunglasses. His eyes, large, hard and intelligent looking, were the deep green of the jungle floor of her beloved Kauai, the pupils large and black, with a thin rim of forest green surrounding them. There were gold highlights sparkling deep within his gaze, and she could feel his playfulness, his warmth toward her. And she wanted more, but suddenly felt awkward about it. She hadn’t felt like this since—She quickly squashed the errant thought.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Dev said in a husky voice tinged with humor. “If you’ll let me take a photo of you with your bird, I’ll spring for dinner tonight at the Kilohana Plantation. I’ve heard Gaylord’s Restaurant has excellent food. How about it?” Never had Dev wanted a woman to say yes more than in this instant. He saw Kulani’s beautiful ebony eyes widen.
“I don’t normally go out with customers, Mr. Carson.”
“Call me Jack,” he said, and cringed. Dev wanted to tell her the truth, but he didn’t dare. At least, not yet. He knew he could climb down into the Kalalau Valley by himself now that he’d viewed it from the air. He didn’t need Kulani. At least—not in that way. He saw her in his arms, in his bed, her lips against his mouth. No, she definitely had a place in his life—but not at his side as a mountain climbing guide on a merc mission.
When he saw her lips part, sensed the protest coming, he held up his hand and said, “Okay, okay…no problem. No photo of you and your bird, but you have to agree to have dinner with me tonight. I understand Gaylord’s is the place to take a beautiful woman. You can’t say no, Ms. Dawson. I’ll keep you well entertained and we’ll have a lot of laughs.” He held up his hands. “No monkey business. That’s a promise.”
She met and held his verdant gaze, which was shining with confidence. “I can handle monkey business, Mr. Carson. And no, I don’t want to go out….” She was lying and she knew it. She hoped Carson didn’t see that she was. Why on earth was she even considering his invitation? She’d had plenty of other male passengers make offers for dinner before, and it had been easy to turn them down. But not this time. Not with this stalwart, egotistical guy dressed in a bright red-and-white Hawaiian shirt, and wearing a crooked grin on his mouth.
“Now, I can’t see you running home to just sit all night, read the newspaper and watch television.”
She laughed a little and then shook her head. “You’re something else, Mr. Carson.”
“Call me Jack,” he said again. “Am I right? You’re not the homebody type?” He motioned to her arm. “You got a set of muscles under that beautiful veneer of yours. My hunch is you do something pretty physical and strenuous to stay in shape. Am I right?”
Her heart twinged. “I mountain climb. I—I mean,” she stammered, “I did. I don’t anymore.” And she began to pray that the past would finally ease up and leave her alone. She saw his eyes glitter with interest. Almost like a wolf who considered her prey. Inwardly, Kulani trembled with anticipation.
“Ah, we have something in common. I’m a mountain climber, too.” He gestured toward the dormant volcano. “I climbed Mount McKinley in Alaska just the other year. You ever climb El Capitan in Yosemite?”
All the talk of mountain climbing scared her. Kulani felt her stomach twist into a knot. “Please—” she held up her hand “—I don’t want to talk about the subject, Mr., er, Jack.” Any topic other than that one. Kulani moved away from him. It was as if the past were haunting her. She liked Carson. She even entertained the thought of having dinner with him. But she couldn’t talk about mountain climbing. The fact that he was a climber scared her the most. Hurriedly, she walked back toward her aircraft.
Dev was right on her heels. “Hey, slow down….” He reached out and gently snagged her arm. “I’m sorry if I stepped on some painful stuff.”
Surprised, Kulani pulled free of his gentle grip. His eyes were narrowed and assessing, and she knew that he was genuinely sorry, although she saw a lot of questions in his gaze. If he was smart, he wouldn’t ask. Holding up her hands, she whispered, “Look, you’re a very nice guy, but I can’t handle conversations about mountain climbing anytime soon, so let’s just—”
“No problem.” He grinned boyishly, hope gleaming in his eyes. “What would you like to talk about at dinner? I’m open. I’m a global traveler, so I’m sure I can handle a conversation about anything you’d like to chat about.” He saw the wind ruffle her hair playfully and he had a maddening urge to tame the dark strands back into place, but he didn’t dare. Kulani was holding herself stiffly, her arms crossed against her chest.
“I just got back from Hong Kong. Now, there’s a place to go. Ever been there?”
Kulani frowned and allowed her arms to drop to her sides. “No…but I’ve wanted to go.” She turned, opened the door to the cockpit and retrieved her manifest.
“How about if I give you a guided tour of Hong Kong, then? We’ll get a little dinner, enjoy the stars above us as we dine, have a nice bottle of wine to celebrate the sky, and maybe have a few laughs.”
Walking slowly, Kulani moved around the nose of the helicopter. The sun was setting in the west and the shadows were growing dark and long. Jack Carson shortened his stride to match hers, moving easily at her side. He had his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his cotton pants, his head turned toward her, his eyes—those large, intelligent eyes, so assessing, as if he could read what was in her soul—touching her vulnerable, hard-beating heart.
“I can promise you a night of damn fine food and even more excellent company.”
Kulani was scared and she admitted it. Oddly, she felt he was telling her the truth. And for whatever reason, she capitulated. She didn’t look too closely at why. Her heart had been heavy with grief and depression minutes ago, but being around this man was making her feel buoyant once again. For the first time in a long time she wanted to live as she once had, to be out in a social environment, to participate in a world she’d closed herself off from so long ago.
“Well…”
“Listen,” Dev whispered roughly as he slid his hand around her upper arm and opened the gate leading off the tarmac, “you do what you gotta do to tie up loose ends around here. I can wait in the car, the white Mercedes over there, until you’re done. I’m new to the island, but I do know where Gaylord’s is. I’ll get you an early dinner and make sure you’re home in time for a good night’s sleep so you can fly tomorrow. Fair enough?”
He saw her face turn pink momentarily as he touched her. Dev wanted to touch her. He liked the firmness of her body. Grace with incredible feminine strength. Maybe the quiet, deep strength he sensed in Kulani was because of the Hawaiian blood that ran in her veins. Maybe…well, he was looking forward to finding out a whole lot more about her over a nice starlit dinner, that was for sure.
Her mouth twisted a little. “This is rare. You’re going to be my tour guide.”
Chortling, Dev walked Kulani across the highway toward her office. He forced himself to release her arm. Touching Kulani was habit forming. In fact, downright addictive. “I’m pretty colorful once I get started.”
Kulani’s heart lifted a little more. She definitely felt lighter. In fact, she felt hope—something that had died almost two years ago. “What is it about you, J
ack?”
Dev winced at her use of his alias. He felt bad for maintaining his cover, but he had to. “Oh, I don’t know,” he crowed confidently, giving her a wink. “I’m single, young and eligible. I make a decent living and I enjoy life. How about you?”
Wrinkling her nose, Kulani halted at the steps to her office. Holding the clipboard against her chest, she gazed up at him. Right now, Jack Carson looked more like a little boy who had just stolen a frog from the pond and was going to show it off to all his buddies. Only she was the frog. Would he be as good as his word? Would he be just a dinner companion and not try any moves on her? Kulani wasn’t ready for that. She doubted she ever would be. But Jack Carson was an interesting man. Quickly closing the door on the fact that he was a mountain climber, she decided she could have an enjoyable night out with him.
“I live to fly,” she told him simply.
Dev smiled down at her. “My instincts tell me you like to do a lot of things, but let’s save dinner tonight for exploration, shall we?” He lifted his hand and moved toward his Mercedes, which was parked in the gravel lot.
Just the way he walked, his shoulders thrown back so proudly, the way he arrogantly lifted his head with that graceful, taut movement only an athlete had, made him very alluring to Kulani. With a shake of her head, she reminded herself that she had about thirty minutes of wrapping up details with her office manager before she could leave. As she climbed the wooden steps to her office, she smiled softly. She was looking forward to finding out more about the enigmatic Jack Carson….
Chapter Four
Dev was pleased with his surroundings. Gaylord’s Restaurant was the perfect place to take the woman who’d been on his mind from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her. He felt guilty about continuing his ruse as Jack Carson, but it couldn’t be helped, he thought, as he and Kulani walked toward the plantation headquarters, built in the 1930s during the golden days of the sugar cane era, to the restaurant. The lawns and shrubbery about the sprawling building were carefully manicured. Now the plantation had been turned into a number of boutiques, plus the famous restaurant. The two-story structure loomed above them as they walked up the marble steps and into the dimly lit foyer.
Without thinking, Dev placed his hand across the small of Kulani’s back as the maître d’ came to escort them to their table. Though Dev’s fingers barely brushed the material, he felt the strength and firmness of her body beneath her silk blouse. She looked up at him, an expression of surprise on her face at his touch. Quickly, he removed his hand.
“Sorry, it’s an old habit of mine,” he said with a wry smile. “Take a lovely woman who looks like a goddess from old Hawaii to dinner, and I just sort of lose my perspective.” When he smiled down at her, he saw her lips part. Groaning internally, he wondered if Kulani knew how damned provocative she appeared. Her hair, which had been pinned up earlier, now flowed like molten lava across her shoulders and upper back. The low lighting made it look like gleaming sapphires had been braided through the strands.
“Kauai inspires creative thinking,” Kulani agreed. Her flesh tingled wildly where his strong, guiding fingers had brushed her blouse ever so briefly. She knew that Jack wasn’t trying to grope her. He was a gentleman, a throwback to the men of the past who escorted a woman with a gallant flair. “And your gesture was a nice one. Thank you.”
Relieved, he smiled again. Glancing around at the hundred or so laughing, chatting patrons, Dev realized they were enjoying their meals without the knowledge that a mad professor with a worldwide terrorist organization might be making deadly anthrax in one of the beautiful, pristine valleys along the coast. The reality intruded harshly for a moment as he followed the maître d’ to the table. All these people could die, too, which was what made this evening with Kulani so important to him. Just for one night he was going to enjoy this woman completely, and then, tomorrow, he would face the raw reality of life in its worst moment.
Again he placed his hand in the small of her back as they were escorted out the French doors of the restaurant to a U-shaped terrace. Twilight was falling and he was delighted to see old-fashioned, turn-of-the-century lampposts spreading a casual, unobtrusive light. The dining area was filled with white-linen-covered tables and bamboo chairs with thick, cream-colored cushions. In the center of the patio was a cascade of flowers, ranging from yellow and red ginger, proud looking bird-of-paradise, spectacular red torch ginger thinly outlined in white, to delicate shell pink ginger. Plants that were easily ten to twelve feet high created a natural barrier from prying eyes around the outdoor restaurant. As Dev inhaled the delicate, sweet fragrance of ginger in bloom, he saw directly ahead of them the silhouetted mountains topped with a small dormant volcano called Kilohana Crater. Everything was clothed in purple and blue shadows in anticipation of the coming night.
Kulani saw the awe written in Jack’s expression as he seated her at the table. She smiled a little at how easily she could read what he was feeling; not many men allowed that kind of access to themselves. But then, she told herself humorously as she picked up the pale pink linen napkin and placed it across her lap, Jack Carson was so full of himself that he shouldn’t have any trouble at all showing how he felt at any time to anyone. The man’s confidence radiated from him like the sun at high noon. Kulani had noticed how many patrons had looked up as he’d entered the patio.
After the waiter took their drink order of iced guava juice, Dev folded his hands on the table and smiled at Kulani. “You know, with the backdrop of that shadowed volcano behind you, you look more and more like a daughter of Pele.”
She felt heat prickle her cheeks. Avoiding his gleaming, forest-green gaze, she picked nervously at the linen napkin in her lap and rearranged it—even though it didn’t need rearranging. “Oh…thanks…yes, sunset and sunrise are very dramatic on Kauai. Actually…” She lifted her head and finally met his gaze. There was such tenderness in his expression that she found her heart fluttering in response. Carson was a visual feast for her eyes. And Kulani was more than a little aware of other women looking appreciatively in his direction. “Actually,” she said again, clasping her hands in front of her, “Kauai is really an artist’s and photographer’s paradise. The light here is fantastic. I see changes in the landscape every time I fly over the island.”
“Don’t you get tired of flying the same route and saying the same things?” Dev inquired. He saw her lips draw into a slight smile.
“No, not at all. Every hour, the light shifts.” She waved her hand gracefully toward the spectacular flower-filled garden near where they sat. “Look at that incredible white-and-pink shell ginger.”
Dev looked at the long spike of cuplike white blossoms tinged with dark pink inside. “Yes?”
“Watch how the light shifts and changes on them. Every minute they’re a little different.” Inhaling, Kulani whispered, “I just love the fragrance of ginger. It’s wonderful.”
“I think that’s the perfume you were wearing today?”
She held his gaze. “Why, yes…I do wear ginger perfume.” Because some of her passengers had perfume allergies, Kulani was very careful to wear just a tiny dab behind each of her ears. No one had ever complained to her of it, so she figured no one could smell it except her. “You’ve got a nose like a wolf,” she said, laughing a little and taking a sip of her iced drink.
Cocking his head, Dev watched the twilight bathe Kulani like an old-master’s painting. The lamplight cast a golden color across part of her face while the twilight caressed her with darkness, accentuating the raw beauty of her full mouth and her straight, aristocratic nose and high cheekbones. “In my business, all my senses count.” He groaned internally at his words. Somehow, he’d dropped his guard. Damn! He instantly saw Kulani’s dark, thoughtful-looking eyes narrow a little speculatively. He didn’t want to continue to lie to her. Yet if he told her who he was, she’d more than likely get up and leave. The last thing he wanted was an aborted dinner engagement with her. Later, he’d come clean. Now,
as he saw the question forming in her eyes, he quickly distracted her.
“So, excellent tour guide from Kauai, tell me about this wonderful old plantation we’re in. I like antiques, and judging from what little I saw as we walked in, this place was very expensive to build. Looks like the owners spared no expense. Teakwood floors aren’t exactly cheap.”
Perking up, Kulani gazed around the busy, bustling establishment. Around the ginger plants in the center of the garden grew bougainvillea of hot pink, bright orange and yellow. The thorny, climbing bushes had been tamed and pruned so that they looked like small, square splashes in a vibrant palette of colors. “You don’t miss much, Jack. Kilohana was the inspiration of its owner, Gordon Parke Wilcox. A British architect by the name of Mark Potter designed this wonderful, sprawling estate.” With a flourish of her hand, she said, “Kilohana was built in 1935 and was the most expensive and lovely home ever build on our island. The owner had furniture sent by ship from Gump’s of San Francisco, which was the place to buy furniture in that day. We didn’t get to walk around much, but there are many beautifully landscaped gardens as well.”
“The owners don’t live here anymore?”
Kulani shook her head. She liked the way light carved half his face from the darkness. He had a strong, stubborn jaw, his eyes deep set and gleaming, his nose shaped more like a hawk’s beak. There was nothing weak looking about Jack Carson, and she found herself relaxing within his aura, which was considerable. Somehow, Kulani knew that he would take care of her if she was in trouble of any kind. Her skin still prickled pleasantly at the memory of his healing touch.
“No, Kilohana rose and declined with the sugar trade. An enterprising entrepreneur restored the place to its original splendor, which you see now. There are many galleries here instead, and much of the Wilcox art is still in the plantation. It’s a joy just to walk through this place if you have time. It’s quite a celebration of art. There are other shops, as well, and this is where I usually come if I need a birthday gift for a friend.”
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