Authors: Meryl Sawyer
Tags: #Police, #Island/Beach, #Journalism, #Legal, #Smitten
"
The police don
'
t care?
"
"
Now that they
'
ve closed down so many sugar mills and tourism has stalled, it
'
s the only source of
income some people have.
"
Rob shrugged as if to say, That's the way it goes. Clearly, raising Maui Wowie didn
'
t rate high on his list of serious crimes.
She sympathized with the islanders. Life in Hawaii was harsh—despite the tour guides
'
air-
brushed version of paradise—and exceedingly expensive. Food and housing were three or maybe four times what they were on the mainland. Few homes had air conditioning; it simply cost too much.
"This doesn't give us much leverage against Big Daddy, does it?
"
Rob pulled out of the lot, saying, "Image is everything to Big Daddy. He loves being thought of as a god. Kenae says he
'
s a hero around here. He donated all the money to build the hospital and medical center.
"
"Then he
'
s going to hate a lot of negative publicity about the divorce. I know what
'
s going to happen.
"
Dana frowned, shaking her head. "He
'
ll make certain my sister gets blamed.
"
"Coltrane's on a power trip. That kind of person thinks he
'
s untouchable. He
'
ll hate to be crossed. That makes him dangerous—and don
'
t forget it. We need to be careful. Real careful.
"
12
"
B
ig Daddy
'
s concern with his image is the key,
"
Rob told Dana as
they drove along the Hana high
way, slowed by yet another truck laden with sugar cane, typical of harvest time. "What do you suppose would happen if people knew he eavesdropped on his guests?
"
"He'd do
anything
to keep that from coming out. Anything.
"
Now she was smiling, seeming to warm to Rob
'
s idea.
"That
'
s what I'm counting on.
"
"We
'
ll need proof.
"
"
I
'
m getting into Big Daddy
'
s suite. The proof
'
s there, trust me.
"
She was silent for a few minutes, then she asked,
"
Do you see them?
"
"The third car back might be the same one I spotted earlier. I
'
m going to pull in at Pic-Nic
'
s and get something for lunch. You watch the blue Toyota and see what it does.
"
Rob slowed the car as they drove into Paia, the
last town on the isolated thirty-mile stretch to Hana. Once a sugar plantation, today Paia catered to the tourists bound for the serpentine road that would take them past countless waterfalls and through tunnels of ferns to the remote village of Hana. A cluster of gas stations and a general store plus several specialty food shops was all there was left of the historic site.
He pulled into Pic-Nic's small lot and left Dana to watch for the blue car. He came out a few minutes later with a small rental cooler full of sodas and a picnic box with sandwiches and fresh fruit.
"
They're in the gas station across the street,
"
Dana said.
"
They didn
'
t get any gas. They
'
re just sitting in their car—
"
"Waiting for us to pull out.
"
Rob placed the food in the trunk on top of the towels, then got in. He leaned toward Dana. "Kiss me. We need to look like lovers out for the day.
"
Before she could protest he leaned down and touched his lips to hers, gently covering her mouth. It was more of a caress than a kiss. He
'
d wanted to catch her off-guard,
and judging by her startled ex
pression, he had. Evidently she
'
d been expecting another searing kiss.
Her seductive lashes lowered, but not before he saw the flash of regret in her eyes.
Okay, babe. You asked for it.
He tipped her head up and touched the soft underside of her chin with the pad of his thumb.
She rewarded him by parting her lips. This time his mouth captured hers in a fierce, hot kiss that
sent currents of ar
ousal through his body. Reflex
ively, her arms circled his neck. His awareness focused, excluding everything except the erotic signals her body was sending.
His tongue flirted with hers, touching, moving away, then touching again as his fingers combed through her hair, lifting it, testing its weight, its softness. His blood, thick and heavy, pounded in his temples. He had the urge to do a whole lot more than kiss her, but a busload of Japanese tourists pulled up next to them.
He released her, saying,
"
That should convince those bums that we haven
'
t even noticed them.
"
He hoped he sounded more relaxed than he felt.
Dana responded by fumbling in her purse and coming up with a pair of sunglasses. She slammed them on her face and stared straight ahead. Okay, she wasn
'
t quite comfortable with what happened, but it was getting a helluva lot easier to kiss her.
He backed out of the lot and floored the accelerator. The men in the Toyota zipped out of the gas station. "Amateurs. We
'
d never spot a pro.
"
"What are we going to do?
"
"Nothing. We
'
re going to the beach. Let those jerks sweat away the afternoon while we
'
re swimming.
"
They drove down the Hana highway with the Toyota not far behind, going past several scenic turnouts until they reached Maliko Bay. The secluded beach had no tourist facilities, so Rob pulled onto the shoulder of the road and parked. The men
were forced to drive on or make themselves completely obvious.
"We
'
re going down there?" Dana eyed the narrow trail between the ro
cks to the ellipse of powdered-
sugar sand with misgivings.
"Sure. I
'
ve done it lots of times.
"
Dana started down the trail, carrying the towels and umbrella. Rob hoisted the cooler to his side and grabbed the sandwiches. They had the beach to themselves, so they spread the towels out and opened the umbrella for shade. He stripped off his clothes and tossed them on his towel.
She eased out of her linen shorts to reveal a white one-piece suit that was cut high on the sides, which made her legs look even longer. Even sexier. That was the good news. The bad news was the top came up to her chin. A swimsuit? Hell, no. Another power suit.
"Last one in buys lunch tomorrow.
"
Dana ran toward the surf.
"Watch the undertow,
"
Rob cautioned her. He loved this beach, but it did have a stronger current than most beaches in the area.
He let her have a good head start, knowing he could beat her. Then he charged across the beach, the hot sand burning the skin between his toes. He caught Dana at the water's edge and sprinted past her. Turning, he grinned.
No question about it. She was miffed—big time. She was much more competitive than he
'
d originally thought. He liked that in a woman; it made her more challenging.
"You
'
re buying lunch tomorrow. We
'
ll go to Casanova
'
s in Makawao. I hear it has the best Italian food on Maui."
Dana waded out to him. "It has the best Italian food in Hawaii—period.
"
The slow, undulating waves rolled in, tumbling like dice across the shimmering sand, luring them into deeper water. Chains of crimson seaweed drifted up from the ocean floor, a playground for schools of flat-bodied yellow butterfly fish with circles of brilliant turquoise around their eyes. The sun-dappled sea and the bracing scent of the breeze blowing across the nearby pineapple fields made Rob smile.
Now, this was what he loved about Maui. Pineapples on the wind and deserted beaches. Too many people lived in Honolulu; it was impossible to find a deserted beach. The pineapple fields there had become cookie-cutter condos. But this was paradise.
When Dana reac
hed waist-high water, she jack-
knifed into a dive that cleanly split the incoming wave. Rob watched her flawlessly stroking, swimming out farther. He
followed, leisurely paddling af
ter her.
She stopped, treading water, waiting for him. Her hair was slicked back into a smooth cap of rich chestnut that gleamed in the brilliant sunlight, making her face seem more delicate, more feminine. She had the damnedest eyes. Impossibly green, a
stark contrast to the azure sea. Those eyes beckoned him.
Close up, her long, curved lashes were wet spikes of dark brown, giving her an exotic look. There was something in them that reminded him of the way she looked at him just before he kissed her. Then she smiled at him, that slow, feminine smile that was heart-stoppingly sensual without intending to be.
"I just love swimming," she said, happier than he'd ever heard her. "In high school I was on the swim team.
"
"So was I.
"
He wondered if she realized how much they had in common. He playfully splashed her.
"Stop it,
"
she cried, then laughed. Along with the hypnotic lull of the surf, her laughter hung in the summer air sounding so right.
"Let
'
s dive for shells,
"
he suggested, though there were several other things he
'
d rather do with her. He wondered if she knew that her conservative suit, when wet, conformed to every curve, becoming semitransparent and revealing her taut nipples.
Her smile crumpled. "Don
'
t look, but the blue Toyota is back. They
'
re driving very slowly along the ridge.
"
"They're probably checking us out with binoculars. We should at least look like we
'
re having fun.
"
He grabbed her and hoisted her up to his hips before she could utter more than an astonished gasp. "Put your legs around my waist.
"
She did as she was told, her slim legs circling him as she faced him, but she frowned, wrinkling her brow and tightening her lips. He ignored those signals and gazed into her eyes. A glimmer of panic hardened her vivid green eyes. And knifed right through him.
Why, he asked himself. Her past, he decided. Dana had never fully recovered from that fateful night. Had that bastard raped her? She
'
d made it sound as if Vanessa had attacked Hank and rescued her. Had Dana told him the truth?
If Vanessa had been too late, that would account for the panic not quite hidden in the depths of Dana
'
s eyes. Her description of the incident that traumatic night returned with startling clarity. A young, defenseless girl. A bull of a man. And a dark shed.
Rob
'
s heart filled with emotions he didn
'
t have time to analyze. He'd been going about this all wrong, he decided. He
'
d been aggressive, not compassionate, daring her to reject him. The old Rob, the man he barely remembered anymore, would never have behaved like that.
Oh, it worked. Partway. It wasn
'
t what she
'
d needed though. She might open up and kiss him back, but she wasn
'
t going to give herself to him—
the way he wanted—unless she trusted him.
"
Trust me,
"
he whispered even though there wasn
'
t anyone around to hear them except the seagulls drifting overhead.
"
Only as far as I can throw you.
"
She tried to joke, but her voice was as flat as week-old beer.
He cradled her against him, bringing her so close that her breasts pillowed against his chest. He tamped down the surge of heat that flared in his groin.
"
I swear, Dana. I
'
ll never hurt you.
"
"The car
'
s driving off,
"
she responded, breaking the spell. She dropped her legs and slipped into the water. Before he could call to her she was swimming away.
Just as well, he said to himself, then paused to watch the rhythmic stroking of her arms as she swam.
Oh, who the hell are you kidding?
He dove under the next wave and swam along the bottom with smoot
h, sure strokes. Why was he try
ing so hard? He
'
d emotionally cut his losses when Ellen had left him. From then on he dated women, yet he never gave a damn about them one way or the other. How had he gotten himself so involved with Dana Hamilton?
He shot to the surface and took a gulp of fresh air, his thoughts reeling. Son of a bitch. Had the past changed him, making him hate women? Well, maybe. Once upon a time—ten years ago to be exact —he'd been nicer, more sensitive.
Plunging below the surface once more, he followed a colorful clown fish into the filigreed branches of delicate coral that swayed, dancing with the surge of the sea. Okay, be honest, he told himself. With each day his loneliness and alienation
grew and he became more sarcastic, more aggressive—daring any woman to love him.
Stupid as it was, he blamed all women for what had happened to him. That's why he was such a smart ass. What a mouth. What an attitude. He didn
'
t even like himself, so how could he expect Dana to like him?
For the first time he realized that on that fateful night he
'
d lost a lot more than his career, his marriage. And the son he loved and missed more each day. He
'
d lost himself.
So what in hell are you going to do about it?