Rolling in the Deep: Hawaiian Heroes, Book 2 (18 page)

“What’s your degree?” Zane asked.

“Web design,” she said. There was a lull in the conversation, so everyone seemed to be listening to her.

“Cool,” Zane approved. “Hey, Daniel, maybe Claire could help with the new Web site for the gallery. The guy Lalei hired did a disappearing act, and the display pages are only half done.”

Claire’s gaze met Bella’s across the table. Lalei again.

“I don’t think so.” Claire tempered her response with a smile. “Your family will want someone local, I’m sure.”

Daniel leaned forward to cast her a taunting look. “Someone with a little more experience.”

Claire’s eyes narrowed. “I have experience—
and
glowing recommendations.”

He shook his head dubiously. “I don’t know, Hawaiian style is different. Have to be true to island traditions. Might be too much for a haole college girl.”

Claire snorted. “Only a retro, hard-ass moke who thinks he knows everything would believe that.”

She took a cooling drink of her mai tai. She was pretty sure there was steam coming out of her ears. Experience, hell—he wasn’t talking about web design. Well neither was she, so let him stick that in his ay-lay-moo.

“Well, Claire did a fabulous job designing Melia’s cooking blog,” Darcy said brightly. “It’s just fantastic—so pretty and all these little buttons you can click and go, well, everywhere.”

“It is very well done,” agreed Tina. She was watching her son, a peculiar look in her eyes. Claire’s gaze darted around the table. Homu was smiling, and Bella was biting the inside of her lip.

Claire blushed hotly, glad the twilight was deepening so that the tiki torches were the only light. OMG, she and Daniel had been sniping at each other right in front of his parents, Melia’s parents and everyone else. She picked up her fork, and speared a bite of fruit, chewing industriously. She just hoped she could swallow with both feet in her mouth.

John Carson winked at her. “Speaking of food, this fish is great. You catch this, Daniel?”

“No, Frank caught this one,” Daniel said. “Over four feet.”

John nodded appreciatively. “That’s a nice fish.”

A ukulele began to play softly, and Claire turned to find Frank Lelua had moved to a stool nearby. “I’ll play you a song of the sea,” he said. “It’s called
‘Ma ka Laupapa’
,
‘On the Reef’.”

Zane nudged her elbow and pointed at the chairs around the fire pit, and Claire saw that the older people were rising and moving their chairs to the open area.

Claire looked back at the table.

“Let’s help clear,” she said, beckoning to Bella and Zane. “Let the parents go relax. This will just take a few moments.”

Arms laden with an empty platter piled with other dishes, Claire walked carefully up the lawn toward the house, followed by the lilting melody. She could hear Zane and Bella following her, laughing quietly about something.

Daniel already stood in the kitchen, talking to Leilani. He turned as Claire walked in, his brows rising. “Put you to work, did they?”

Claire ignored him, smiling at Leilani. “Where would you like these?”

Leilani smiled back. “On this counter, please. Thank you so much. I could have done that.”

“Glad to help. The food was ono.”

Claire set down her burden and turned to go back outside. She had to wait at the door for Zane and Bella. She walked back out into the twilight and down across the lawn, toward the sound of soft ukulele music. It reminded her of the luau and her attempt at hula. Congratulating herself on finally scoring a teensy point by ignoring Daniel, she segued into a few dance steps and then two-stepped the rest of the way, matching her footsteps to Frank’s simple melody.

She heard a deep, husky laugh behind her. Gritting her teeth, she kept walking, her back rigid.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Daniel said. “That was nice, for a haole wahine.”

Claire began to grab napkins from the table, piling them onto an empty platter. She plunked silverware on top of them with angry precision.

“Too bad you’re never going to see it again, then.” She grabbed another place setting, and then, as the platter appeared at her elbow, she shoved the silverware onto it, connecting with Daniel’s hard gut. He winced but followed her around the table.

“You’re not gonna hula for me?” he goaded. She turned on him, and he held the platter out at arm’s length. She dropped the silverware on it and glared up at him.

“No, and that’s not all I’m
not
gonna do for you.”
Oh, that sounded cool, Claire.
She pursed her lips to keep them closed and continued with her task. But he wasn’t through with her, of course.

“What else aren’t you gonna do for me?” he asked, just over her head. “Point your ‘
ēlemu at me in that pretty bikini?
”

She turned on him. “Hush!” She gestured at the couples around the fire. “Do you want them to hear you?”

“Maybe you’re not gonna dance with me,” he went on, clearly enjoying himself in his perverse fashion.

With a despairing glance over at the others, Claire grasped the tablecloth, pulled it into a bundle and stuffed it into his arms on top of the platter. Then she grabbed his arm, tugging at him.

He followed her obediently back up the path toward the house. “I don’t know what you think you’re up to,” she hissed. “But you are not funny.”

Claire found herself talking to his back, as he carried his load of dishes into the kitchen. She waited, fuming, as he spoke with Leilani and the others. She heard them all laugh, but she stayed where she was, glaring down the hill at the calm sea and the flickering fire. She was not through with him.

She turned as Daniel appeared in the door, but she had no sooner opened her mouth than he whisked her back into the shadows of the lanai at the back of the house.

“What are you doing?” she whispered furiously, conscious of the open, lighted window a few feet away.

He loomed over her, his hands on her waist holding her there against the wall. “Just making sure you know what’s
not
on your ‘not gonna’ list,” he whispered back, his breath gusting warm across her cheek.

This time, she should have been prepared. But how did a woman prepare for a tsunami, even if it was a repeat? Especially when it was composed of Hawaiian male. And how could she hold on to her anger when he smelled like the sea and sex, and he was so big and warm and hard? His mouth covered hers, demanding entrance, and after one instant of denial, she gave it to him, tipping her head to let him lock his mouth over hers, his tongue thrusting in to tangle with hers, his beard and mustache brushing the delicate skin of her face. She was still angry at him, but she’d demand an explanation for his bewildering change of behavior in just a minute—
after
he kissed her.

She was glad the wall was behind her, because otherwise she might have fallen. Desire swept over her in a sweet rush, weakening her knees and turning her insides to hot honey. Suddenly desperately afraid he’d change his mind again, she slid her hands up his chest and stood on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck, kissing him back.

He groaned, a deep, nearly silent shudder in his chest, and hauled her up tight against him with one arm, the other hand sliding up her bare back to cup her nape as he had the first time he kissed her, holding her there as he ravaged her mouth.

Claire ravaged him in return, desperate for the taste and feel of him. She ran her fingers up over his head, stroking his hair, cupping the side of his jaw, reveling in the texture of his beard, in the hot satin skin of his neck and shoulders.

His fingers tightening painfully in her hair, he pulled her head back, and his mouth slid over her chin and down her throat to her cleavage, his breath scalding her skin. “Daniel,” she gasped. “Please. I want—”

“Whatchu want?” he whispered harshly. “Say it.”

She opened her eyes, fighting for sanity. There was something she needed to say—no, something she needed
him
to say. And if he’d just quit sucking and biting the side of her neck, she’d remember what it was.

His arms tightened as he flexed his hips with a powerful movement, driving his erection hard against her mons. She gasped, losing all thought as that long, hot rod of flesh raked over her clitoris, driving the fabric of her panties against the small knot of nerves. Sensation shot through her.

She whimpered, and he lifted his head sharply, clamping his mouth over hers in another hot, enveloping kiss. He held her against the hard wall, his arm under her ass the only thing keeping her from thudding against it. The siding dug into her back and his fingers into the soft flesh of her ass with bruising strength, but none of that mattered as long as he didn’t let go.

Somehow she got one leg up around his waist and hung there like a crazed ballerina as he rocked his hips against her soft center. Oh God, if she didn’t get him inside her, she was going to explode from sheer frustration.

But his mouth, his scent, the hot silk of his skin under her hands, the hard abrasion against her clitoris and just the thought of what lay beyond those thin layers of cloth sent her rocketing straight past reason to the point where she knew she’d die if he stopped, even just long enough to get their pants off.

“Claire? You out here?” It was Bella.

The voice barely penetrated. Too late—she couldn’t bear it if he stopped. She dug her nails into Daniel’s neck, hanging on desperately. His thrusts increased in intensity. The knot of need imploded into pleasure, and she started to come, her pussy quaking, her whole body shaking against his.

Daniel stiffened, his body arching against hers. He ripped his mouth from hers and buried his face in her hair, his breath surging in her ear as he groaned silently. She turned her face against the side of his head, her open mouth finding his earlobe. She sucked the soft flesh into her mouth and nipped him sharply.

He shuddered, muttering something into her hair.

“Claire? She must have gone this way.” Bella’s voice was just around the corner.

Daniel froze. Claire could feel his heart thundering against her midriff, the tension in his arm under her bottom. Instinctively, she pushed at the mountain of his shoulder, and he reacted as swiftly as if she’d caught fire, dropping her onto her feet and backing away.

She staggered against the wall, trying to catch her breath even as she tugged at her halter top, which had somehow ridden up around her ribs, and reached up to push back her hair, hanging in a tangle around her shoulders. She combed it with her fingers and took a deep breath to still the pounding of her heart. Her legs were so weak she had to lean against the house. She was at once sated and so frustrated she wanted to scream. She wanted more, wanted him
inside
her.

Daniel was a large shadow, only his shoulders heaving as he breathed, his silence stretching into what seemed to her a denial of what had just happened. She waited for him to say something, do something. When he did not, she turned away, a chill chasing the sensual heat in her middle. What had she expected, sweet nothings? She should have known better.

She took another deep breath and stepped around the corner, locking her trembling knees. “Looking for me?”

“What are you doing back there?” Bella asked quizzically, standing in the light from the open kitchen door, Zane behind her. “We’re going down to the fire.”

“I was, um…just listening to the…the crickets,” Claire said. She shoved at her hair again, pulling the tousled strands forward around her throat. That biting and sucking had to have left marks.

She frowned as she heard a snort from the shadows behind her, like strangled male laughter. She followed the others down to the fire, still finger-combing her hair.

Oh God, had she really just done
that
with Daniel Ho’omalu on the back lanai? She cringed with embarrassment. They might have kept their clothes on, but she’d come, and so had he—she’d felt him shudder with completion. That had almost made her come all over again.

When they reached the fire pit, in which a small fire was now crackling, casting its flickering light on the faces of the people seated around it, Zane paused to let her go first. “We don’t have crickets here,” he whispered and grinned wickedly.

Claire’s face flamed. Great, Zane had obviously figured out she’d been up to something back there. She just hoped he had no idea how far she’d gone. She sidled past him and curled up on an empty lounger, pulling her knees up to wrap her arms around them. Bella sat down on the end, and Zane perched on a stool.

Claire was glad Bella was so preoccupied with family issues, because otherwise she would surely have noticed Claire’s agitation.

“You folks do any hiking around here?” John asked.

Homu nodded. “There are some great hikes up the mountain. The boys often go.”

“Zane and I went hiking this afternoon,” Bella said.

“Oh, I hope you were careful.” Darcy sounded worried. “Melia and David told us about those climbers falling into an old lava tube up on the mountain just last month.”

There was a short, odd silence. Then Zane and Homu spoke at once.

“There’s no danger—” Homu began.

“We were careful—” Zane said.

Homu nodded at Zane to speak. “I know the safe paths,” Zane told Darcy. “We avoided the, ah, fault area, I promise.”

“That was an odd thing, wasn’t it?” John asked Homu. “Who’d have thought hikers would fall into an old tube like that?”

“They were trespassing,” Homu said gravely. “If they had asked permission, they would have been told not to use that trail.”

Darcy shivered. “So strange that every one of them disappeared without a trace.”

It
was
strange, now that Claire recalled the incident. “Helman,” she said, remembering. “That was the name. One of them was from some horrible family in California, involved in organized crime, except no one can ever seem to convict them. Ugh—to think they were up above on the mountain while Melia and David were here at Nawea.”

“Perhaps Pele took them,” Tina said.

Bella turned to her. “Pele is the patroness of the volcanoes, isn’t she?”