a Touch of the Past (An Everly Gray Adventure) (2 page)

Pomaika’i to you, Leialoha, kaikamahine and to our new mo’opuna wahine.
 

Aloha Ke Akua
 

Makani, makuahine
 

I read the letter again. And again. Not Everly. Eleu. I figured out that
kaikamahine
meant daughter, and
mo’opuna wahine
, translated to granddaughter. Even so, I would need to get a dictionary first thing when the plane landed. Learning my ancestral language held the number one spot on my to-do list, right next to getting a map.

Makani. My grandmother.

The vivid colors outside the airplane window had been replaced by too-bright sunlight and vast blue sky. I didn't want to shut out the light, so slipped on my sunglasses, and retreated back into my thoughts.
 

I was Hawaiian. My grandmother was, no wait,
is
Hawaiian. I wouldn’t think of her as dead. Not when I’d just learned about her location. But the questions remained. Why wasn’t she around when I was born? Why hadn't my parents taken me to visit her? Why hadn't my mother ever talked about her? And they’d named me nosey. It was embarrassing that I’ve lived up to my name. Guess Grandma knew what she was doing.
 

I carefully folded the letter and slid it back into my handbag along with my sunglasses. Closing my eyes, I drifted, setting my imagination free to visualize what it would be like to finally meet her.
 

Next thing I knew, a
static-y voice filled the plane. "We’ll be landing in approximately twenty minutes…" The announcement went on, but I tuned it out. Honolulu. My grandmother.
 

 
Curiosity and excitement took over as I gathered my things. I’d never been to Hawaii, and looked forward to whatever paradise had to offer. But mostly meeting my grandmother. All I had to do was find appropriate accommodations, and then start searching.
 

As soon as we reached the main terminal, I sidled into the closest airport shop, hoping the clerk could recommend a hotel. The scent of fresh flowers tickled my nose, distracting me. I spun around taking in the multitude of metal containers that were filled with incredible colors and exotic fragrances.
 

I spotted the clerk. "These are amazing," I said, dropping my overnight bag and reaching for a handful of deep red anthurium, some ginger, a bird of paradise, and several varieties of orchids. Then I handed her the over-sized bouquet along with my credit card.

"Can you recommend a good hotel?" I asked, watching her wrap the flowers in bright orange tissue paper.

Her shoulders drooped, probably from a long day of standing behind the counter, but her dark eyes held a smile as she pointed to a display of courtesy telephones directly across the hall. "My favorite is the Halekulani. It means House Befitting Heaven, yah."
 

Heaven. I could use a little help from that direction. "Sounds good to me. If there aren’t any rooms available, what would your second choice be?"
 

She handed me the bouquet and my credit card, then touched a finger to her lips, pausing for a minute. "I think the Ma Kai. It’s recently been purchased by an exclusive chain and is very elegant, yah."
 

I smiled my thanks, and crossed the walkway to check out the hotel advertisements. The air was soft, and the wind blew several strands of hair loose from my clip. They tickled my cheek, and I twitched my nose trying to scratch the resulting itch. This wind was going to be hell on my mop of dark red curls. Scrunchies would definitely be a necessity here. Or a braid.

I balanced the bouquet in the crook of my arm and punched in the number for the Halekulani, requesting a room when the clerk answered.
 

"Ms. Gray? Ms. Everly Gray?" The masculine voice on the end of the line held a distinct edge. "No. I’m sorry it doesn’t appear that we have a reservation for you."

What the heck? "I know I don’t have a reservation. I’m calling to make one."
 

"One moment, please." Silence hummed on the line, making me antsy. When the clerk came back, his tone was even more crisp. "I’m sorry, Ms. Gray, the Halekulani won’t be able to accommodate you."
 

It was a strange choice of words, but I thanked him anyway, disconnected, and punched the button for the Ma Kai hotel. Success. And they were sending a limo for me. I hurried outside, a relative term since most of the airport was open-air, and waited in the shadow of a huge royal palm. So far, so good.
 

Not more than twenty minutes passed before a white car with Ma Kai Suites printed on the side pulled to a stop at the curb. The driver jumped out to load my bag while I clutched the flowers, not willing to part with them for even a second.

The ride to the Ma kai was short, and I was welcomed by a young woman who placed a fragrant lei around my neck—orchids and tuber roses—then checked me in. It was peaceful. Why hadn’t I visited Hawaii before? The airport and plane ride hadn’t been as bad as I'd expected. There were enough people that the images coming through my fingertips were hazy and had blended into a disconnected background hum.

A spry gray-haired gentleman appeared at my elbow, nodding toward my overnight bag. "Your only luggage, Miss?"
 

"Yes, thank you," I said, burying my nose in the bouquet. "I don’t need help with the flowers."
 

The desk clerk shot me a grin. "Hold on a second and I’ll get a vase for you, Ms. Gray. Looks like you’ll need a fairly large one, yah."
 

"Thanks." I smiled at him, catching a glimpse of myself in the teak-framed mirror along the far wall. The bouquet covered most of my face, leaving only a smattering of red curls visible behind the colorful display. It wasn’t that we didn’t have flowers in North Carolina. We did. But these were breathtaking.

A few minutes later the clerk returned with a huge, red ceramic vase and handed it to the bellman. Grabbing my bag in his free hand, he escorted me to the elevator.
 

It was a short ride to the second floor, and before I had time to take in the restaurant advertisements adorning the elevator walls, I was standing in my new temporary home.
 

Bellman tipped, and on his way, I placed the flowers in the vase, then spent a few minutes fidgeting with them. The color of the anthurium matched the red ceramic, and the overall effect against the white and beige décor of my room was stunning.

I swung my arms wide, twirling around the room until I caught the view from my balcony. Seconds later I headed toward the slider, opened it, and dragged in a deep breath. Sea, warm air and…was that rain on the horizon? The sun had been shining so brightly at the airport, I'd had to dig out my sunglasses. I stepped outside, turned my face to the wind, and was drenched in a sudden downpour. The freshness washed over me as I toed off my shoes, the rain tickling the tops of my feet. My toes wouldn’t stop wiggling.
 

Clothing clung uncomfortably to my skin, and after making sure the balcony provided sufficient privacy, I began to peel off the wet layers. Jacket first, then I inched the heavy jeans down my legs, and kicked the soggy off my feet. I stopped with my fingers on the buttons of my blouse. Probably time to go inside. Carrying my discarded clothing into the bathroom, I dumped it in the tub, then added my blouse to the soggy mess.
 

My belly jewel sparkled in the light from the wall sconce. It’d become my good luck talisman, because I figured Tynan Pierce, had bestowed an Irish blessing on it before he slipped it into place.

Grabbing a towel from the warming rack, I buried my face in the soft fabric, breathing in the scent of tropical fruit and fabric softener. Oh, yeah. I could get into living here. I bent my head and began towel-drying my hair dry as I strolled into the bedroom.

An arm circled my chest in a tight grip and a heavy masculine hand covered my mouth, cutting off my scream. Panic clawed up my spine, and a rush of adrenaline propelled my arms and legs as I lashed out, getting tangled in the damp towel.

A cool, elusive scent blended with the soft Hawaiian air.

Recognizable.

I stopped struggling, took a deep breath, and bit down hard on his hand.
 

"Damn it El. I’m trying not to hurt you."
 

Two

I spun out of Pierce’s
embrace and faced him with every ounce of pissed off redhead I could muster. "You scared the crap out of me. And what the hell are you doing here?"

He rubbed at the fleshy part of his hand, still red from my teeth. "My job," he answered solemnly, then ruined it with a wink.
 

Nothing like using those Irish blue eyes to disarm my anger. I took a deep breath. "Seriously, you’re in my hotel room." I waved my arms around to point out the obvious.
 

He nodded. Once. And then grinned. "I noticed. Nice room. I like purple. Brings out the sparkle in the diamond."
 

"Purple?" I looked down. My bra and panties were on full display in all their damp glory. "Oh, shit." I huffed, spun around and headed to the bathroom for the robe the Ma Kai had so obligingly provided. The thick terry fabric was safe and comfortably concealing. I secured the belt with an extra knot, then ran my fingers through my hair, dividing it into three strands. It would be a disaster if I didn’t tame it into a braid before it dried.
 

A distant knock sounded, and I gave up on the braid, dug a scrunchie out of my wadded-up jeans, and hurried out of the bathroom.
 

"Room service," a husky, disembodied voice called through the heavy wood.

That couldn’t be. Pierce had his hand on the doorknob before I could reach him. "I didn’t order room service," I said, motioning him to back away from the door.

He ignored me, shooting a devilish grin over his shoulder. "I did."
 

Right. Of course he did. I scanned the room, which until a minute ago had been mine. Alone. What the hell was wrong with this picture? I hadn’t picked up any unusual images when I was fighting Pierce. Not that they weren’t there. I had just been too focused on my futile attempt to beat him to a bloody pulp. Now I wished I’d paid attention.

He backed into the room balancing a tray with a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a plate of cheese, crackers, and fresh fruit. My stomach growled, and forgiveness was instantaneous. He wouldn’t leave until he’d done whatever he was here to do, so there was no reason to ignore perfectly good food.
 

I curled into an overstuffed chair, and studied him as he opened and poured the wine. Tynan Pierce had amazing hands. Capable, well shaped, lightly tanned, and I knew from experience exactly how talented they were. The man had taught me how to pick locks after all. Almost made me sorry I’d left teeth marks in his skin.
Almost
.
 

I broke the silence. "Why are you here, Pierce?"
 

"Told you," he said, handing me a glass of deep red wine. "My job."
 

"No. I mean here? In my room?" I figured he was doing some kind of secret agent thing in the islands and my name crossed his radar for one reason or another. Who knew how super spies worked?
 

His gaze froze me in mid-swallow. "You. Are. My. Job."
 

A shiver rippled over my skin. "Me?" It came out raspy. Like I’d inhaled hot sauce. I wasn’t the sort of badass criminal Pierce tracked.

He gave me a raised eyebrow. "You."
 

I took a long sip of the wine, allowed it to rest on my tongue. A truly excellent cabernet. I focused on the flavor of the wine to nourish my inner coward and avoid dealing with the reality of Tynan Pierce. Surely he couldn’t be serious. My reasons for being in Hawaii were personal. No one knew—except Pierce, obviously. And the government. It didn't sit well.
 

"Talk," I demanded, flapping my hand in a come-on gesture.
 

He gave me a nonchalant lift of his shoulders. "I’m your bodyguard."
 

"You don’t do that kind of work." My words were strong, sure.
 

"Your DSS clearance—"
 

I held up my hand, stopping him in mid sentence. "DSS?"
 

"Defense Security Service." He waved his fingers at me. "The ESP issue."
 

"Mitch," I said, my mind catapulting to a new explanation. "No. He couldn't have told you I was here. I left a voice message during the layover in Minneapolis, but—
 

"Not what I'm talking about," Pierce said, his brogue cutting into my thoughts. "Tell me about the testing you had done to get your security rating."
 

I took a sip of wine. "Twenty-six years ago? You mean that horrible psychological ordeal my parents put me through to make sure I didn’t need prolonged therapy?"
 

He swallowed a mouthful of wine. "Might’ve been."