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They went down the valley and circled Pearl City, coming to the Ocean Highway as the sun went down. When the coach drew up before the hotel it suddenly seemed as if all the warmth and gaiety had gone out of her happy day, for Charles Abercrombie was standing under the canopy, waiting for her.

He watched as the coach emptied, the passengers spilling out on to the wide, paved apron in front of the massive glass doors, gathering their belongings together and lingering in small, ragged groups to say goodbye. Elizabeth and Ed were the last to get out, and she knew Charles would consider the delay deliberate on their part. He stood there watching without a smile, which suggested that he meant to challenge her immediately. Although she walked a few paces behind Ed, her steps lagging a little, he held her reluctant gaze from the moment she left the coach and she knew that he was also looking for his grandmother.

"She isn't with me," she informed him stiltedly as soon as they came abreast. "She went to Maui for the day to visit Monsieur Duroc—he's very ill."

"And you let her go alone?" His voice was as cold as ice.

"It wasn't a case of
letting
her go," Elizabeth objected. "She insisted I should stay here and see something of Oahu." She gazed after the retreating figure of the American. "Oh! He's gone off with my pineapple—"

"Your pineapple? What in heaven's name do you mean?"

"We had one each and he offered to carry mine when he bought me the orchids." She glanced down at the little posy in her hand.

Charles snorted with impatience, taking her firmly by the arm to lead her through the glass doors.

"I'll buy you another pineapple," he said in the tone which he probably reserved for tiresome children.

"It wouldn't be the same," she protested, loosening his grip on her arm. "I cut this one myself. That was the whole point."

"I see." He was gazing over her head to where Ed had returned to look for her. "When you've said goodbye to your—friend perhaps you'll come into the hotel and fill me in with a few relevant details about my grandmother's whereabouts."

Elizabeth shook hands with Ed.

"You've been so kind," she said, on the verge of tears.

The sudden, unexpected meeting with Charles Abercrombie had unnerved her for a reason which was difficult to explain. She had no idea why he had come to Hawaii, but he had certainly found her at a disadvantage.

Pulling her shaken thoughts together, she smoothed the red hair back from her forehead as she went into the foyer. Why
should
he make her feel uncomfortable or even at fault? She had obeyed her employer's command, even if it had been reluctantly, and he had really no right to interfere.

Charles had found her a seat in a small, secluded alcove, but he was able to make her feel childish and immature as she set the prickly pineapple on the table between them.

"Have you eaten?" he asked.

"We had a light lunch at Heeia," she told him. "I'm not in the least hungry."

He glanced at his watch, waiting for her to continue.

"Your grandmother left for Maui early this morning," she explained. "It seemed best that she should go alone when her old friend was so ill. She promised to be back with the evening plane unless there was a message from her to the contrary."

He got to his feet.

"I'll check," he said abruptly. "Reception could only tell me that you'd both gone out early this morning, presumably together, but that was two hours ago."

She had kept him cooling his heels in the foyer for two whole hours, Elizabeth thought, following his progress towards the desk. Unforgivable!

He returned with a dip of paper in his hand.

"This has just arrived," he said, frowning. "It was handed in at Spreckelsville early this afternoon. My grandmother couldn't make the plane. Henri Duroc must be seriously ill." He was still reading the message.

"She shows a deep concern for you."

"When will she get back?" Elizabeth wondered.

"Possibly tomorrow."

"This must be most inconvenient for you," she suggested, "if you wanted to see her. You're a very busy person."

He smiled at the description.

"I take time off occasionally, especially if I've been held up on a schedule," he informed her. "What did worry me was the fact that you were not together on the tour. Anything could have happened. Grand'mere won't admit it, but she's no longer a young woman able to fend entirely for herself. When she takes off into the blue like this there could be complications, though at the present moment she appears to be safe enough."

Elizabeth stared at him incredulously.

"What's the matter?" he asked, sitting down beside her.

"You're really quite human," she said without thinking. "You really
are
concerned about your grandmother."

He laughed abruptly.

"So that's what you thought?" he said. "I had a fair idea after your initial outburst in Sydney, but it's nice to know that you can reverse your opinion on occasion. Shall we have something to eat in about an hour's time?" he asked. "You'll probably feel hungry after you've washed and changed."

She could hardly believe that he was inviting her to share a meal with him.

"Why did you come?" she asked.

He considered the point for a moment.

"Because I was stranded in New York with nothing to do," he decided. "My business contact will meet me in San Francisco instead."

It had been a matter of convenience, after all, Elizabeth reflected as she picked up the pineapple and fled towards the lift. He would stay in the hotel now until the morning, meeting his grandmother off the plane, and go away again as fast as he could.

Gazing at her dishevelled reflection in the bathroom mirror, she ceased to wonder why he had suggested that she should wash and change. The wind had played havoc with her hair and a scattering of golden freckles bridged her nose, called out by the sun. Her cheeks were flushed and her skin moist and she looked vulnerably young.

What she needed most was a relaxing shower and time to consider the odd turn of events which had thrust her into Charles Abercrombie's company so unexpectedly.

He needn't have asked her to dine with him, of course. He could have ignored her once he had seen her installed in the hotel and had been assured of his grandmother's safety.

When she had washed and dressed she selected two small orchids from the posy Ed Bugle had given her, putting the others into water before she turned back to the mirror. The girl she saw reflected there was very much different from the windswept creature who had rushed towards the lift with a pineapple clutched to her breast an hour ago. The long pale green linen dress flattered her . colouring, and when she had pinned the little orchids to the low-cut neckline she knew that she needed no other adornment.

The eyes looking back at her from the mirror were suddenly shining. Wherever Charles decided to take her she would make the most of the experience. After all, it wasn't every evening that one dined romantically under a Hawaiian moon!

Charles was waiting in the foyer when she went down, and her heart gave a quick lurch of surprise as she looked at him. He wore the conventional white dinner jacket and black evening trousers of the tropics, but after that was acknowledged he was in a class of his own. Tall and straight and lean, he drew the discerning eye as he walked towards her. She had never seen him looking like this before.

Don't fall in love with him, she thought; it would just be another disaster!

"I've booked a table in the Tapa Room," he informed her. "It's convenient, and I thought you might like to see a Hawaiian floor show."

"I'd love it," Elizabeth assured him. "But what about you? You must have seen it all before."

"I have to eat," he shrugged. "However, for your peace of mind, I haven't been to the Tapa Room before. I haven't, as a matter of fact, been to Waikiki at all."

"So it's going to be the first time for you, too," Elizabeth smiled. "I'm glad."

"It might be interesting to hear why."

She looked confused. No one had ever made her explain her impulses before.

"Because it's always much better when you're sharing an experience for the first time, when you're doing things with someone who is really enjoying himself," she decided. "I'd hate to think that it was a—sort of duty."

He laughed as he. led her across the foyer.

"Let's start with something to drink," he suggested.

They consulted the colourful list together. It was lavishly illustrated and Elizabeth took a long time over her choice.

"What's a Tropical Itch, for goodness' sake?" she wanted to know.

"It looks as if it had a backscratcher in it!" He gave the exotic drink his full attention for a moment while she studied the dark lines of his face in profile. "I think I would stick to a banana daiquiri, if I were you."

Elizabeth returned to her study of the drinks.

"I'm going to have a Wahine's Delight," she decided, "because it has an orchid in it."

He looked at her with amusement.

"You're still a child," he said.

"I'm young enough to feel excited by a new experience," she confessed.

"Were you looking for romance this afternoon?" He glanced down at the two mauve orchids pinned to her dress. "With the gallant American?"

"That would have been ridiculous!" Her cheeks were flushed with indignation at the suggestion. "We'd only just met."

"I thought that was how these things happened."

"I wouldn't know," she returned stiffly. "I don't fall in love with every new man I meet."

"I thought you and Jason got on very well."

"Your brother? Of course, he's charming, but—"

"Why do you hesitate?"

"Because I really know nothing about your brother."

"He was more than anxious to let you have the job," he pointed out.

"And you weren't." The old animosity was building up between them. "You thought I wasn't competent enough and I've more or less proved it to you today, I suppose. I
should
have gone to Maui with your grandmother, no matter what she said. I should have looked after her."

"But instead you're here with me." He made room for the waiter to put their drinks on the table. "We'll have to accept the position, I'm afraid, since there's no alternative."

Elizabeth sipped her Wahine's Delight, feeling it cool and fresh against her palate, tasting of lemon and rum. The tiny blush-pink orchid she placed on the side of her plate.

"Aren't you going to wear it?" he asked. "Or does it clash too violently with the American offering?"

"No," she said sharply. "I mean to keep it, of course."

He lifted the tiny flower as they rose from the table, stooping to pin it in her dress. It was a gesture so foreign to her conception of him that she drew back in surprise, but he completed the little service with a determination which
was
typical of him. His hand touched her bare flesh for an instant, sending a sensation of fire through her from head to foot. This time it was Charles who drew back.

"I'm sorry," he said.

They made their way towards the restaurant. The Tapa Room was small and intimate, its lighting subdued, the stage at one end ready for the twice-nightly cabaret show.

"I believe it's something quite special," Charles remarked as they were shown to their table. "We can at least hope that the food is good."

Elizabeth's pulses began to race with a new excitement, her eyes glowing as she studied the menu.

"I'm going to be madly adventurous and try something local," she declared. "How about you?"

"It seems fitting," he agreed. "They're bound to do it better than fish and chips."

She laughed. Charles could evidently unbend when he liked and, after all, there was nothing they could do about being thrown together in the circumstances.

If he resented the fact, he certainly didn't show it once he had given their order and they had settled down to enjoy the meal.

When the cabaret began he moved his chair round to her side of the table for a better view. They were very near, their arms touching.

"I'm going to enjoy this," said Elizabeth.

A line of graceful Polynesian girls glided on to the stage, each one as lovely as the next, their willowy bodies swaying to the rhythm of the music as their bare feet moved across the floor. They were dressed in long floating chiffon skirts with leis of tiny mauve orchids about their necks and a bracelet of orchids on one arm. This wasn't hula, Elizabeth realised; it was something far more subtle, a native dance whose origin went back into the mists of time.

"Watch their hands," Charles advised. "They say so much with them. My grandmother, who comes here often, knows the language of these movements. believe they mostly depict natural phenomena—the movement of waves, the wind in the palms, the sun rising on a bright morning to start another day."

The dancers, their long dark hair floating out behind them, their skirts drifting from side to side, circled the stage, their small, delicate hands pressed close against their breasts.

"What do they say now?" Elizabeth whispered.

"Something about love, I think—that love is the finest gift of all." His tone was sceptical.

"You know their language!"

"My grandmother translates at the drop of a hat," he answered. "I've heard about Hawaii since I was a child, and I've been to Maui."

The dance had ended with the girls clustered on the floor, their skirts spread around them to give the effect of a delicate tropical flower. It was sheer poetry of motion, exquisite beauty simply presented for the joy of the beholder.

The female entertainer who followed was a large, buxom Polynesian woman in the traditional printed
muu-muu
who stood regarding her audience for several minutes with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"I hope she isn't going to attempt the hula," Charles said. "It would be too much !"