Читать книгу Hunter's Pride - Lindsay McKenna - Страница 11

Kulani Dawson greeted the morning with dread. The phone call from Morgan Trayhern the night before had left her raw and hurting. As she moved around her bungalow, the bright orange-and-purple bird-of-paradise blooming outside the kitchen nook looked strong and resilient compared to how she felt as she prepared her coffee.

Normally, Kulani eagerly looked forward to the delicious quiet of this time of day. The bungalow lay at the end of a dirt road, a mile from the main highway that encircled most of the garden isle of Kauai. From the kitchen window of her home, which sat high atop a hill surrounded by pink and red begonia bushes nearly three feet tall and slender palms silhouetted against the sky, she could see the hint of an apricot dawn lovingly lavishing the Pacific Ocean.

Dressed in a pair of comfortable khaki slacks and a peach-colored, short-sleeved blouse, she swept strands of her thick, black hair, still loose and falling almost to the middle of her back, away from her face as she sat down and sipped the fragrant coffee. The glass slats of the window were open to allow the cool morning air into the bungalow. Because Kauai lay in the middle of the ocean, there was always a breeze. Kulani leaned back in the well-worn, white wicker chair, resting the colorful cup decorated with red hibiscus between her long fingers and watching the breeze move the mighty fronds of the palm trees that surrounded the property.

This place was her haven. Her healing. Her mother, one of the most beloved kahunas in the islands, had birthed her here thirty years ago with the help of several of her sister kahunas. Kulani had been brought into the world with welcoming love, in beautiful, natural surroundings. As she thought of her mother now, her gaze moved to the black-and-white photo on the wall near the window—a picture of her parents with their arms around one another, smiling. She’d purposely placed the bamboo-framed photo of them there where she could see it each morning, and it always made her smile. It also brought sadness over the memory of their early demise in a car accident five years ago.

Sipping the coffee, Kulani’s midnight eyes darkened with pain. She’d lost her parents. And then…Quickly, she swerved away from the emotional powerhouse of thoughts and feelings surrounding the loss of her fiancé a year and a half ago. Struggling, she forced the memories deep down inside her. Morgan’s unexpected call had torn loose the heavy steel door she’d placed against that terrible day when she’d lost the rest of her world. Lost her will to live her life with the passion she had before.

Normally, she savored the sweet, nutlike taste of the Kauai plantation coffee she drank each morning, but her peace had been shattered. Why had Morgan asked the impossible of her? Kulani had come to think of Morgan as an adopted father. He’d certainly treated her like a daughter. If not for him, for his flight to Kauai after the unthinkable accident, Kulani would have been alone in the aftermath.

Morgan’s presence had been a balm to her during the ordeal. He’d organized the funeral, taken care of the paperwork, the police and the insurance people when she could do little else but sit in shocked, almost catatonic silence or suffer incredible storms of weeping, anger and guilt. Morgan had been there for her through it all. Oh, she’d heard of his famous care when mercenaries who worked for him at Perseus got into trouble. And Kulani had talked to more than one merc who had been blessed with Morgan’s presence during some traumatic event. But she had never expected Morgan to be there for her as he had.

Closing her eyes momentarily, Kulani took in a deep, shaky breath of air. Morgan had helped her piece her life back together after that tragic day. He’d put her on leave with full pay. He got Dr. Ann Parsons, a flight surgeon and psychiatrist, to fly over to Kauai and help Kulani through the worst of her grief. When all was said and done, Kulani could not force herself to go back to work—at least, not the type of work she’d done before.

She’d flown to Montana, to that little mining town nestled deep in the Rocky Mountains where Morgan made a life for himself and his growing family. Save for her father, she’d rarely seen such family devotion in a man, as she saw in Morgan. And it was then that she began to realize she was like family to Morgan and not just an employee, another cog in the wheel of Perseus. She and Morgan had sat deep underground, in the war room of his facility, and talked. She knew he was a terribly busy man, yet on that afternoon he acted as if she were the only focus he had in his complex and pressing world. Laura, his wife, was pregnant with the twins back then and she had gone into labor the day Kulani was there. The call from the midwife came in just as she and Morgan were finishing their meeting.

Opening her eyes now, Kulani let her gaze drift to another photo below that of her parents. It was of Laura, looking very tired but happy, with her twins, Peter and Kelly, in her arms. Morgan sat behind her, his massive arms around her and the newborns, making the babies look tiny in comparison. His eyes shone with pride and happiness. Kulani had been privileged to be at their home while the midwife, along with Morgan, had helped Laura welcome their newest children into the world. The photo was one of the many she’d snapped that day with her camera. And she’d rolled up her sleeves and helped out around the house. Not that Morgan and Laura didn’t have nearby friends who also came to help. But Morgan had made Kulani feel part of his family and she’d wanted to be there for him and Laura.

Swallowing hard, Kulani avoided Morgan’s smiling countenance. The next day, when she was preparing to leave her motel and fly home after telling Morgan she was quitting Perseus, she’d gotten a phone call from him. He’d invited her over to the house for lunch. She’d gone over and watched him bungle through making soup and crackers. Morgan wasn’t exactly a hausfrau, but in her eyes and heart, his awkward attempts made him even more lovable. He’d proudly made Laura, who was spending the first day after the births in bed, the same fare. Kulani was sure it was welcomed, despite its simplicity. The heart behind the offering was what counted.

When Morgan had sat down to eat with her at the kitchen table, he’d asked her what she wanted to do as a “civilian.” Trying to smile, she’d told him of her dream to buy her own helicopter and start a touring business on Kauai. She wanted to share the incredible beauty, the sacredness of her island, with those who were drawn to the place she called home.

It was Morgan who suggested that he float a loan for the 1.3 million dollar Aerostar helicopter for Kulani to start her business. She’d sat there, mouth agape, stunned at his offer. There was no way she could afford to swing such a loan herself. Who had a million dollars to throw around?

Perseus did. Morgan told her to fly home, contact the aircraft manufacturer, put in her order for the Aerostar, and he’d handle the rest of the paperwork. It was a loan in his name, and she could send him monthly payments at a very low rate of interest, to pay him back. She’d accepted his incredible generosity.

That was a year and a half ago. Kulani had come home, accepted the Aerostar at the Lihue Airport and built a lasting name on the island for her touring services, Rainbow Air. All thanks to Morgan, who had picked up the pieces of her life and given them back to her. But there was still a huge, gaping wound in Kulani. She could feel the emptiness sometimes when she waxed philosophical. Every time she had to fly past the Na Pali Coast, the most beautiful and dangerous part of her island home, her gut would clench. Over time, the clenching stopped, and so had a lot of the emotional turmoil that flying near the scene of the tragedy caused. Maybe the fact that her tour route took her past the coast every day, five days a week, had helped some of her initial emotional reactions toward it to fade. Her flight service was so popular that she had a third of the loan to Morgan already paid off. Just the day before Morgan’s recent phone call, Kulani had been thinking that for once her life was steady and predictable. No more chaos. Just doing what she loved most: flying. Yesterday she would have sat here and said she had nearly everything she could ever want in life. Almost.

Today, the taste of ashes filled her mouth. Her heart felt bruised when she thought of the wrenching phone call, like someone had placed a belt around her chest and was tightening it. Torn between her loyalty for Morgan, and her own still unhealed grief, Kulani felt shaken to the core. She knew Morgan needed her help—desperately. He wouldn’t have asked her otherwise. And yet she’d hung up on him like an immature teenager who hadn’t yet mastered her emotions. She needed to call him back. But something whispered to her not to try it today. Still feeling too raw, Kulani honored her own need to take time to get down off the roller coaster of emotions Morgan had torn loose in her once again. She couldn’t take the mission, but she could at least apologize for her behavior and let him know that she just didn’t have what it would take to help him. Kulani knew Morgan would understand. He was one of the most insightful human beings she’d ever had the privilege of knowing.

Looking at the simple gold watch with the dark brown leather band on her wrist, Kulani realized it was time to go. Usually she looked forward to her work—taking six people five times a day on one-hour flights around her beautiful island. Today her heart wasn’t in it. She wanted to stay home. Maybe do some cooking, which she loved but rarely had time for anymore. Or to putter in her mother’s herb garden, which she had replanted after she’d come home to stay. There was something soothing and nurturing about sliding her fingers into the rich, warm volcanic soil of the island. It was healing. And right now, she needed a little time out to do just that. But a million-dollar helicopter did not get paid off by her sitting around and feeling sorry for herself.

What would today bring? What kind of people? Any quirky characters? Today it would take everything for her to remain pleasant, to pretend she was enjoying their company as much as they were falling in love with her beautiful isle.

Dev hoped he didn’t look too conspicuous in his bright red, short-sleeved shirt liberally splashed with white hibiscus. Donning a pair of aviator-style sunglasses, he hoped that he looked like a tourist—more aptly, a fish out of water. He stood at the back of the small group of people, all thrilled and excited about their upcoming flight around the gorgeous, green-mantled island of Kauai. Dev’s gaze was riveted on the Rainbow Air Aerostar, a white helicopter with a brilliant rainbow painted across the fuselage. Inside it, he could see the pilot, Kulani Dawson, with a clipboard in hand, apparently finishing up some last-minute paperwork. He couldn’t see her well from this distance, but his heart hammered a little every time he remembered that luscious photo of her dancing the hula. In fact, she had haunted him during the six-hour flight across the deep blue Pacific to this little island hideaway.

Dev told himself that his reaction to her was so strong simply because he was between relationships. He truly enjoyed women—the way they thought, the way they reacted—and he liked trying to adjust his world to fit theirs. There were definitely differences between men and women he acknowledged. And maybe those differences were the reason his first marriage had been destroyed. Or maybe it was…other things. Frowning, he adjusted his sunglasses. The bright sun was angling toward the west. It was 3:00 p.m. and he knew this was Kulani’s last flight of the day. After rearranging the camera he’d slung across his shoulders, he pulled the bill of his baseball cap low over his eyes, shading them. The hat, an old, beat-up Orioles’ baseball cap that he wore religiously, probably didn’t look exactly tourist-like. But he’d been a fan since a little kid and now that he was a big kid, he enjoyed the sport just as much. He certainly wasn’t going to give up his favorite hat for the sake of his ruse.

As he stood waiting and wishing Kulani would emerge from her Aerostar, he noticed the trade winds were deliciously warm at this time of day. He looked up to see the central volcano, Mount Waialeale, long extinct, and clothed in the green of jungle trees and brush, rising from the center of the large island. At the top of the volcano were the perennial white clouds that formed because of icy temperatures at that altitude. Around him, the airport throbbed with the coming and going of other helicopter services, which operated like ceaseless, busy bees, onloading and offloading six passengers at a time. Though all the helicopters were on the same tarmac, Rainbow Air had the first landing apron and seemed to stand apart from the hustle and bustle.

Indeed, Dev had been impressed with the calm, the quietness of Kulani’s employees at her office, situated across the street. The mobile structure had beds of colorful flowers around the entrance—definitely a woman’s touch, setting it off from the concrete buildings, steel fences and angular aluminum structures that comprised the rest of the airport. Inside, a beautiful young woman, crisp and efficient, had smilingly welcomed the clients. It was obvious to Dev she enjoyed people and her job. There had been comfortable rainbow-colored seats to wait in, and another young employee had prepped them for the coming tour. There was real Kauai coffee and papaya-laced iced tea for those who desired it. Every detail and amenity for the paying passengers had been lovingly attended to.

His curiosity about Kulani had only grown while he’d waited for the flight to return and disgorge its passengers. Dev had thumbed through a huge photo album of people—all smiling as they stood beside the Rainbow Air helo—who had flown with Kulani and written glowing letters of thanks to her. So, was she really an old Hawaiian goddess in the guise of a human being? Her touch, a rainbow touch, was everywhere.

He snapped out of his reverie as he saw her open the door and emerge from the pilot’s seat. Finally he was going to get to meet her in person. His heart thumped once, underscoring his reaction to her as she rounded the nose of her aircraft and walked briskly toward them, the clipboard pressed to her breast. She was tall. Much taller than he’d realized—possibly close to six feet. And slender, like the palms growing all over Kauai. Yes, she was as graceful as a palm, he thought, but it was more than that. She was comfortable with her body, with the fact she was a woman. The slight sway of her hips, the flowing walk as she approached them, made his heart trip unexpectedly. As his gaze moved upward, Dev felt smothered by an unfamiliar feeling. His chest expanded with a wild euphoria that took him completely by surprise. It was as if a shock were being jolted through him as he absorbed her features. Her hair, black with bluish highlights in the strong sunlight, was twisted up and neatly pinned in a French roll behind her head. Tendrils touched her temples and high cheekbones, and soft strands brushed her broad forehead, nearly touching her arched eyebrows. She wore aviator sunglasses, so he couldn’t make out her eyes, but there was plenty more about her to occupy his piqued interest.

Her face was square, her chin stubborn looking and her lips, breathlessly parted, were full, reminding him of a lush orchid just opening for the first time. Her nose was fine and straight in the midst of her beautifully symmetrical features. Everything about Kulani suggested grace and overall harmony. As she came closer, she gave everyone a slight, welcoming smile, but somehow he sensed her heart wasn’t in it. Why? Was she tired? Burned out on tourists? He knew he could never do what she was doing. Working with the public wasn’t his idea of a great job. People were always so picky and demanding. However, as Kulani slowly approached, he sensed she truly enjoyed people. Just like that employee she’d hired to manage her office.

Kulani reached up in one graceful motion, her long fingers curling gently against the sunglasses as she removed them from her face. Dev felt as if he was being struck in the chest. He sucked in a deep, shaking breath. Kulani’s eyes were huge, as black as the heated tropical nights and shining with life. Her thick black lashes framed them beautifully. When her lips curved upward, Dev was very glad he’d taken this assignment. She was dessert. The best kind. The obvious intelligence in her eyes marked her as someone who knew about life, and the light in them showed that she was no stranger to laughter. Dev knew she had a sense of humor. Maybe he could coax it out of her?

Suddenly, his trip to Kauai wasn’t looking so bad, after all. Kulani Dawson was worth the flight and then some, in his opinion. His own mouth curved recklessly. From a purely male standpoint, she was worth chasing, capturing and hotly loving. As she came to a halt before the group, her smile warm and engaging, Dev automatically stepped forward to be in the sunlight of her presence, as did the rest of the eager passengers, who crowded into a tight semicircle around her.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I’m Kulani Dawson, your pilot.” She turned and gestured gracefully toward the helicopter. “I hope to give you a magical tour around the island I was born on. This is our ‘steed’ for today’s ride. Let me check the manifest here and get to know you a little before we are whisked away on our rainbow journey.”

His skin prickled pleasantly. Kulani had a low alto voice that reminded him of honey—honey trickling moltenly across his flesh, making him want to reach out and slide his fingers along the slope of her cheekbone. She wore absolutely no makeup, but with her natural beauty, Dev felt it suited her not to. Her movements were unhurried and always graceful, her eyes engaging with whomever she spoke as she went through the names on the roster she held. His heart began picking up in beat as she reached his name, the last on the list.

“Mr. Jack Carson?”

“Roger that,” he said with a grin. Unaccountably, he felt like an awkward teenage boy. His palms grew sweaty in anticipation. Because Kulani had worked for Perseus at one time, he didn’t dare use his real name. If she got wind that he was a Perseus merc, she might balk at giving him any background information. Morgan had warned that she had cut herself off from her former life. And because of that, using an alias was Dev’s only option. He didn’t like doing it, but he had no other choice at this point.

Kulani felt her heart gallop unexpectedly at the reckless, little-boy smile the tall man at the back gave her. Her intuition niggled at her. He was out of place here. He looked like a tourist, but the way he stood, tall and erect, his knees slightly flexed beneath the navy blue Dockers he wore, said differently. Assessing him keenly, Kulani moved past his warm, devastating smile. His hair was cut military short and he stood like a boxer ready to make a lightning-quick move. Her senses had rarely been wrong. Even though he wore the loud red Hawaiian tourist shirt, he was no vacationer to her island, a voice told her.

Looking down at the manifest, she asked, “How much do you weigh, Mr. Carson?”

He chuckled and placed his hands on his hips. “How much do I have to weigh in order to sit next to you?” Dev knew that the people who weighed the least sat up in the two front seats with the pilot. He knew he’d never get such an opportunity, but wanted to let her know he liked her. But though he’d thought she’d find his reply funny, because the rest of the group chortled over it, he saw her brows dip.

“You could be the weight of a sparrow and you still wouldn’t get a front seat, Mr. Carson.” Kulani’s heart was beating a little harder now. Damn, she couldn’t see his eyes behind those very dark sunglasses. That bothered her. Already the day had been long and harrowing. Emotionally, she was raw and simply wanted to go home, take a hot bath and be alone. This man, whoever he was, unsettled her for no discernible reason. Kulani admitted he was drop-dead handsome. Not in a pretty-boy way, though—not with his darkly tanned face weathered by life, and the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. Deep dimples flashed whenever he gave her that heated, teasing smile. Really, there was nothing to dislike about him. She could see a lot of scars and nicks on his large hands, the muscles of his arms confirmed his terrific athletic condition. There was no fat on this man—at all.

“How about a canary?” he replied with a grin.

Again the group laughed heartily, glancing back and forth between the pilot and Dev.

“How about no?” Kulani said sweetly. She smiled despite how she was feeling. Who could resist this man? Her heart certainly couldn’t.

“I’m crushed, Ms. Dawson. Here I was told you were the closest thing on the islands to Amelia Earhart.” He held up his camera in jest. “I was hoping for a photo of you standing next to your bird.”

She regarded him seriously. “Bird” was a military term. Was this guy in the military? A spook? CIA? He was something, that was for sure. So why did she feel bothered by it? She had nothing to hide. And then she recalled Morgan’s mission and stiffened internally. Maybe the other intelligence agencies knew about the mission, too. But why would someone like him be here? She’d told Morgan no. She shook her head. None of it made sense.

“Sorry, Mr. Carson. I’ll be happy to take a photo of you and my bird after the flight, but that’s it.”

Dev felt a little guilty as he saw her eyes darken with censure over his pushiness. Looking more closely at her, he saw the beginning of shadows beneath her eyes. And there was strain around her tender, soft-looking mouth. The urge to reach forward, slide his hand across her slumping shoulders, almost undid him. Normally he wasn’t that eager to run to the aid of a woman he didn’t really know. Maybe it was that photo of her dancing that made him bolder than usual.

He nodded deferentially to her. “I’m in your capable hands, Ms. Dawson. You are more than worth the price of admission.”

Kulani tried to ignore the handsome stranger’s teasing. He certainly thought a lot of himself. Still, that engaging smile of his touched her deeply and she couldn’t shake the warmth in his voice as it blanketed her, making her feel just a tad better than before. “You will be the last to get in, Mr. Carson. I’m giving you the rear right window seat.”

Dev realized that was the most prized position in the rear of the aircraft. The flight over the island would entail all right turns, and the window was large enough so that a passenger with a camera could take some breathtaking photographs. Dev waited patiently as she stood at the door and ushered each passenger inside. When his turn came, he gave her another glorious smile.

“I think I’m in heaven. No, I take that back. Heaven is standing right in front of me.”

Kulani felt his larger-than-life presence as he brushed past her and climbed into the aircraft. “Heaven begins when we lift off, Mr. Carson.” She smiled a little. What a ham he was. He was playful without being derogatory, and she really had no need to feel uncomfortable. Yet something about him unnerved her.

“Tell me,” he said with his most charming smile, “what does your first name, Kulani, mean in Hawaiian?”

Kulani felt red-hot heat strike her cheeks as she stood anchored to the spot, unable to move. The man was positively glowing with a “gotcha” expression on his face. She laughed self-consciously. “It means ‘heavenly,’ Mr. Carson.”

With a gloating grin at all the other passengers, Dev said, “See? I was right—heaven is here with us, right now.”

“You’re incorrigible, Mr. Carson.”

With a slight bow of his head, he murmured, “Why, thank you, Ms. Dawson.”

After she got all the passengers in, Kulani circled her aircraft, looking for any telltale leaks or anything else out of place. Satisfied the helicopter was air worthy, she climbed into the left-hand seat. More than a little aware of Jack Carson staring at her from behind his sunglasses, she felt the side of her neck prickling pleasantly. All the rest of the passengers were smiling and chatting excitedly as they put on their protective earphones, hardly able to contain their anticipation over the forthcoming adventure.

Dev watched as Kulani’s hands flew with knowing ease across the instrument panel, switching on this or that toggle. He put his earphones on his head and heard soft classical music in the background. No detail was too small for her, he realized. As the rotors on the aircraft began to turn faster and faster, the vibrations went through him. He was enjoying watching her—maybe a little too much. Kulani Dawson was more than a looker; she was enigmatic, he decided. And he had seen her assessing him, too. Being able to coax one tiny smile out of her made him feel like Mark McGwire when he’d hit his seventieth home run.

Suddenly, Dev felt happier than he could ever recall. Since his devastating divorce years ago, a pall had hung over him. But simply by being in the general vicinity of Kulani Dawson, he felt his life take on a new, keen joy. It was something Dev had never experienced before. As the aircraft lifted off the tarmac and headed upward into the deep blue sky, he laughed softly and sat back. Morgan Trayhern sure as hell knew how to pair him up with the right woman. But Dev would never have her as a merc team member. Now, as far as a relationship was concerned, that was another matter—a honeyed one oozing with promise.