Rolling in the Deep: Hawaiian Heroes, Book 2 (21 page)

“Can he run a boat?”

“Sure, why?”

Daniel told his uncle of his encounter with the nai’a and his suspicion that the Helmans had dropped a big container of some kind off Nawea. “Can’t bring in the Coast Guard without some kind of evidence, but a sportfishing boat’s fishfinder is sonar too. I’ll rent him one of your boats, have him patrol back and forth off Nawea.”

“How far south you want him to go?”

“Na’alele sea caves, for now. If he doesn’t find anything in a day or two, we’ll go farther.”

Hilo nodded. “I like it. You want him to report back to me or direct to you?”

“Give him my cell number,” Daniel said. “If he finds anything and can’t reach me for some reason, you know what to do.”

Hilo nodded again. “If we find da kula, we’ll call the cops in then or destroy it ourselves—and then take care of da Helmans.”

“All right.” Daniel slapped his palm on the counter and stepped back. “It’s a plan. See you soon.”

“Have fun at Nawea.” His uncle’s eyes danced once again with amusement.

Daniel shook his head as he walked out of the store into the warm afternoon. Nothing like an older relative to make a grown man feel like a raw youth. His father and Frank had refrained from teasing, but Hilo had no such inhibitions.

Chapter Twelve

Claire lounged in the shade with a book on reef fish. Grace sat nearby with her laptop, typing away. The elder Ho’omalus were up at the house, and the Paalanis, who seemed to be treating this trip as a second honeymoon, were nowhere to be seen.

Neither was Daniel.

Frank and Hilo had putted in a few hours ago in Frank’s little fishing boat, but Daniel had not been with them. She was absurdly disappointed. After last night, she’d thought they’d spend the day together, maybe more.

But he was gone, so Claire had spent the morning snorkeling with Jack, who had slathered himself belatedly with sunscreen and even tied a bandanna over his head to hide his scalp, sunburned through his short blond hair.

She had wanted to swim on past the reef to the next little bay, but Jack had pleaded work, so she reluctantly followed him back. No one on this trip wanted to spend any serious time in the water. She was tempted to take off by herself, only she was smart enough to know that would be a stupid, reckless thing to do. Melia had told her how angry David had been when she snorkeled alone past the reef to the cove in front of Daniel’s place.

As soon as they’d dried off, Jack had checked his phone messages and walked up to the house to take a call. She showered, lunched with Bella and Grace and Daniel’s parents, and then changed and came down to the beach with Bella and Grace, trying very hard not to pout. She had put on the crocheted bikini for the first time, with the little flowered sarong, and she might as well be wearing a gunny sack.

Bella looked up from her book on Hawaiian plants. “So,” she said finally. “You and Daniel seem to be getting along much better.”

Claire nearly snorted her iced tea. “Ah…I guess so,” she said, and then spoiled the casual effect by blushing hotly. “I mean, yes, we are…sort of.”

Bella grinned. “Sort of? What’s that mean?”

Claire swirled the ice in her glass moodily. “Well, he’s not here now, is he? We could be doing things together, but he’s off in Kona somewhere.”

“Maybe he’s working,” Bella suggested.

“He works in his house. Leilani told me so.”

“Maybe he’s working there.”

“No, because Homu told me he and Frank dropped Daniel off in Kailua Harbor.”

Bella gave her a look of mingled sympathy and exasperation. “Well, I’m sure he’s not hiding just so he doesn’t have to hang out with you.”

“I think he’s actually…afraid of you.” The two turned to look at Grace, who had been lounging quietly behind them.

“Him?” Claire huffed. “Afraid of me? That lava boulder of a man? Why would you say that?”

Grace pulled her sunglasses up onto the top of her head, feminine wisdom as old as time in the smile she gave Claire.

“Because I’m a woman, and a writer—observant by sex and by trade. Think about it, dear. He’s this big, tough Hawaiian who’s used to calling all the shots. Suddenly his brother’s falling like a rock over a pretty little tourist. Then who shows up? Another pretty tourist that he’s interested in himself—and I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Honey, he’s afraid you’re gonna catch him in the same net that caught his brother.”

Claire sputtered. “I—I don’t want to catch him. Maybe just…catch and release.”

Bella and Grace laughed.

“Like a wild Oregon salmon,” Bella approved. “Well, go get him, girl.”

“I would if he was here.” Claire set her glass down, blushing at the childishness of her response. “Sorry, I know I’m lousy company. I’m going for a walk.”

“Okay, see you later.”

Claire strode up the lawn toward the house. She wasn’t sure where she was going, she was just through sitting around waiting for him to show up, that was all. She was fine by herself, and she could have fun without him. Really. She would get over this stupid…crush, or whatever it was, if it killed her.

Afraid of her
—right. The man was antisocial, or just anti-Claire.

Of course, the person relaxing in one of the high-back rattan chairs on the house lanai was his mother. Claire heaved an inward sigh as she smiled politely.

“Come,” Tina Ho’omalu said. “Sit with me. Homu and I are returning to Kona in a few moments.”

Pasting a polite smile on her face, Claire sat in the chair next to Daniel’s mother, who regarded her for a long moment. Once again, Claire had that eerie sensation that this woman saw more than most.

“You are enjoying your time here?” Tina asked.

“Very much, thank you.”

“Melia will live here now,” Tina went on. “Island life is not for everyone, but I think she will do well.”

Claire nodded. “She’d live in a tent if David were there,” she said wryly. “And Hawaii is…well, paradise. So I’m sure she’ll be very happy.”

Tina nodded. “You would enjoy living here? You would not find island life confining?”

“No,” Claire answered, relaxing. “It’s always been my dream to live on the beach somewhere. Once I’m out of college, I plan to live on the coast. Who knows, maybe I’ll end up back here.”

“And you can do this—live where you like and still have your career?”

Claire nodded again, this time with enthusiasm. “I work on my computer. I’ve never met most of my clients in person. I don’t need to.”

“Ah.” Tina nodded thoughtfully. “It is a new world now, with such communications. Well, I wish you the best, my dear.” She sat back and then looked at the small package she held in her hand, as if surprised to see it there. It was a puffy manila mailer. “By the way, I forgot to give this to Daniel. Do you mind taking it over to his house? He may not have told you, but his house is just through the trees there.” She nodded at the tangle of trees at the south end of the bay.

Claire’s heart gave a thump. She held out her hand for the package. “Of course. I’ll be happy to.”

“Mahalo,” Tina said tranquilly. “Now, I’m sure you wish to be on your way, so I’ll let you go. Aloha.”

“Aloha.” Claire rose, and walked along the lanai, her mind whirling. Had Daniel’s mother just hinted that she should hurry over to Daniel’s place? Weird. It was as if Tina and Grace had put their heads together or something. Oh, well, she’d follow instructions…not that it would do her any good. But at least she’d get to see his place.

Chapter Thirteen

The path to Daniel’s cove was shadowed and damp, the trees above moving gently in the warm wind, their leaves patterning the smooth pebbles underfoot with lacy shadows. Claire wandered along, enjoying the luxuriant plants spilling over the ground and the twittering of birds calling overhead.

She heard a long, growing rumble of thunder and peered through the trees at the gathering clouds with surprise. She wouldn’t have thought they were storm clouds. The thunder faded, and she continued along the path, climbing over the low stone fence and along to the little bay with its small patch of sand. She gazed around, charmed. It was a tiny, private slice of paradise.

She paused at the edge of the clearing and gazed at the house before her. It was strangely beautiful, unadorned except for the door. Whoever had designed it had made it seem a natural extension of the tangle of woods and little bay.

The clearing and the little beach were quiet. Curiosity winning, she wandered around the side of the house on the broad lanai. A driveway curved up into the trees from a flat parking area, with a garage sitting at right angles to the house. The forest pushed close, vines flowering around the buildings. She could see Daniel’s silver pickup through a small window.

Tears threatened in an ache behind her eyes. She was leaving in just a few days, he wasn’t around, and she’d never see him again. Just her luck to end up falling for a reclusive asshole.

She’d leave the package. Then she’d walk away this time, and he could kiss her ass good-bye.

Returning to the front of Daniel’s house, Claire set the package on a small carved wooden table. Then she paused, temptation beckoning again. She really wanted a look inside. Maybe there were more of those carvings. She stood on the quiet lanai, running her tongue over her lower lip and regarding the big front door. Wondering if it was unlocked.

Slowly, feeling a rush of guilt and glee, she reached out and grasped the handle. Pushed. It gave, and the door opened silently on well-oiled hinges. Eyes wide, she peered inside the shadowed interior.

“Looking for something?” a deep, rough voice said behind her.

With a shriek, Claire jumped and then whirled, stumbling back against the doorframe, her heart thundering in her chest. She slapped a hand over it. Daniel stood on the end of the lanai. He wore a pair of swim shorts riding low on his hips, and a bemused scowl.

“Whatchu doing over here?” he asked.

“Oh, Jesus, you scared me,” she said breathlessly. Guilt flooded her, and she felt her cheeks burn under his steady gaze. He had caught her snooping—or about to. 

Then, like a lifeline, she remembered the package. “Um…I brought this. Your mother said to give it to you.” She picked up the package and held it out to him. “So, here.”

“Oh, did she?” He made no move to reach for it, instead looked her up and down, his gaze searing a path over the skin she’d left bare, and the parts that were covered as well. Her nipples peaked under the thin fabric, and she locked her knees as they tried to melt. Damn! “Dressed like that?”

She straightened, frowning as she looked down at herself. Well, so she was wearing the crocheted bikini and the little flowered sarong. This was Hawaii. And, she hadn’t known he’d be home, had she?

“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” she demanded.

“Nothing, except you look like a great big
pūpū,
” he drawled, hooking his thumbs in his waistband.

She blinked. She’d known he was rude and crass and antisocial, but this was beyond anything. Rage boiled up so hot she was surprised her hair didn’t smoke. How dare he! Big, conceited bag of muscle.

“Did you just say I look like a big pile of
shit
?” she demanded, her voice rising and cracking.

His mouth opened and then closed. He stared at her. Slowly, his face split in a huge grin, his teeth flashing white, his cheeks creasing so that his eyes narrowed to twinkling, onyx crescents. A strange sound rumbled in his chest and burst from his mouth. His broad chest shook.

“A pile of…” he got out; then he threw his head back and bellowed.

He was laughing at her! Laughing so hard he could hardly stand. He bent at the waist, guffaws of laughter shaking him, slapping one hand on his knee.

Her face burning, Claire drew back her arm and threw the little package at him. It bounced off his shoulder. He hardly seemed to notice it, still chortling. She grabbed a big shell from a table and threw it too, with such force that she nearly overbalanced and fell. It missed, sailing past his ear to land harmlessly in the shrubbery. Damn, just like her dream.

She tossed her hair out of her face, fighting sudden, hot tears. Fine. So maybe she had hoped he’d be home. And maybe she’d put on her crocheted bikini just in case. Maybe she’d thought after their talk last night he really wanted her.

She’d take herself and her sexy outfit back to the guesthouse and grab Jack or Zane—or maybe both of them. Turning on her heel, she strode across the lanai toward the path, her sarong slapping her legs.

“C-Claire.” He called behind her, his voice still rough. “Wahine, come back. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t say—what you think.”

She stopped at the edge of the lanai, but she refused to turn around. She stood glaring at the forest, her arms crossed under her breasts.
This better be damn good.

He spoke again, closer now. “I said,” he went on, his voice a caressing rumble, “that you look like a great big hors d’oeuvre. Hawaiian style. It’s spelled p-u-p-u. Not p-o-o.”

His breath gusted her hair on the last words, and then his hands settled on her shoulders, huge and hot and calloused. Her heart pounding, her mouth suddenly dry, she turned in his grasp like a puppet. Looked up into his hard, dark face. Blinked at what she saw. His mouth was still twitching, but his eyes held heat—deep, burning heat. The kind she’d been waiting to see—thought she’d never get to see.

“Your little outfit turns me on,” he said. “I’d like to eat you up. Just like a
pūpū
. Got it?”

“Oh,” she mumbled. “Th-thanks for clearing that up.” Oh, God, she was going to dissolve into a puddle at his feet. Her insides were melting, and he’d barely even touched her.

He bent his head, leaning in, inhaling as if he were sniffing her perfume, leaving her breathless with shock. He was doing it again, bewildering her with his open sexuality.

“Does that turn you on, when I talk dirty?” he murmured.

All he had to do was breathe. But she’d rather eat poo-poo than admit it. “Maybe. What else you got?”

His eyes narrowed, and he lifted his hands, reaching around her to plant them on the post behind her, enclosing her in the circle of his mighty arms and chest. She could feel his warmth, as well as a deep prickling—as if he had some kind of force field around him, a current running between them. And she could smell him—that scent of the sea mixed with the hot, musky scent of healthy male. Her knees went weak.