DaughterofFire Page 3

  Kalama stared up into his face, their bodies scant inches from each other. Heat swirled between them. He ran his gaze over the planes of her face, drinking in her features. Jack let himself linger in the lustful feelings that being so close to her built in him. Whether by accident or design, Kalama leaned in, closing the gap between their bodies even more. Her chest rose and fell, as if she were having trouble catching her breath. He understood the affliction all too well. He felt as if had run a marathon and was suffering from a terminal case of lust. Her tongue darted out, wetting the lushness of her lips—lips Jack desperately wanted to kiss. He didn’t know what came over him. He was in over his head. Seconds ticked by, silence wrapped around them, and finally Jack gave in to his body’s demand and lowered his head to kiss her. Drawing in a shaky breath, he caught the scent of her exotic fragrance. She smelled of rich, tropical plumeria. The scent skated across his nerve endings, teasing every one of his senses. His eyelids drifted closed and his lips inched nearer to hers. The brush of her body was all the permission he needed. Slanting his mouth against hers, Jack drank in her taste. Soft, feminine hands slid up his sides and rested on his chest. Jack groaned low in his throat at her touch. Using the tip of his tongue, he wet the seam of her mouth, begging for more than just a simple kiss. With a sigh of pleasure, she parted her lips and sucked his tongue gently into her mouth. Jack wrapped one hand around her waist and pulled her close. His new assistant was one hell of a kisser.

  Kalama slid her hands up even farther and draped them around his neck, her fingers toying with the hair resting against his collar. A shiver ran down his spine. This woman had him tied in knots like no other before her. With a frustrated groan he pulled away from her, putting a few inches of cool night air between their heated bodies.

  “I’m sorry. I overstepped my bounds. I should have never kissed you,” Jack whispered apologetically.

  “Don’t apologize. I wanted you to kiss me, even though I shouldn’t have. Besides this isn’t the place for it,” Kalama said. “The night has too many eyes.”

  “Eyes?” Jack asked.

  “Come on, Dr. Jack, take me home,” Kalama said with a sigh.

  Chapter Four

  The night sky glittered with stars as Jack drove the battered Jeep toward the rental house Kalama would inhabit while at HVO. Kalama leaned her seat back and stared up at the stars and the sliver of moonlight above her, trying desperately to ignore her renegade hormones and the gorgeous hunk of man in the driver’s seat. She needed to keep a cool head about her. She was in Hawaii on a mission, not to play naughty with the handsome scientist, especially when that scientist was a self-absorbed haole who couldn’t be bothered to respect local tradition. If there was one thing she hated, it was disrespect for her people and their way of life.

  Kalama snuck a glance at Jack’s strong profile, outlined in the moonlight. His sandy blond hair fell over his forehead, making her want to reach over and brush it out of his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes, the color of a deep lagoon, had held her captive from the moment she’d spotted him across the room at Volcano House. An aquiline nose tapered into the most kissable lips she had seen in years. She regretted not letting those lips claims hers earlier, but what she had told Jack was true. The night in Volcano did have eyes. And she was in enough trouble without compounding it. Shaking her head in disgust, she forced her attention back to the foliage lining the road.

  “How far is the house?” she asked, her voice cutting through the silence surrounding them.

  “Not far now. Just a couple miles down the road,” Jack said, never taking his eyes from the road. “What the hell?” he asked, the question mumbled under his breath. Kalama sat up in her seat.

  “What is it?”

  “Down the road a bit, do you see something white?” Jack asked, pointing with one hand over the dashboard toward something farther down the road. Kalama felt the breath in her lungs hitch. He was right. On the right side of the road, an old woman in a white muumuu stood hitchhiking.

  “You better stop and pick her up,” Kalama said, eyeing the old woman for a moment before turning to Jack. His brow was furrowed in a frown.

  “I’m not stopping in the dark for some strange woman. How do we know she isn’t some psycho killer?” Jack asked.

  “She’s not a psycho killer. She’s just an old woman who needs a ride. Be nice, pick her up.”

  “You don’t know that. She could have a knife or something. We pick her up and bam, she chops us up,” Jack said. The car was pulling up closer to the woman. She stood there smiling, her thumb out, waiting. The woman’s bronzed skin was craggy and her smile was missing a few teeth. Her feet were bare and the hem of her muumuu was dirty.

  “Where’s your aloha, Jack?” Kalama sat, amazed. “Aloha isn’t just a way to say hello, it’s a way of life.” At the moment, Jack was severely lacking in island spirit.

  “Don’t give me that, Kalama. I don’t need to pick up some weirdo on the side of the road to demonstrate my aloha,” he said sarcastically.

  “I’m telling you, pick her up. Trust me on this. You want to pick her up,” Kalama said.

  “I’m not stopping for some old woman in the middle of the night and that’s final.” Jack sped past the woman. Kalama shook her head, her lips pursed tight in displeasure.

  “I warned you,” Kalama said under her breath.

  “What’s the big deal, Kalama?”

  “How long have you been in Hawaii, Jack?” Kalama asked, watching the woman’s reflection disappear in the side view mirror.

  “A couple years. Why?”

  “You should know better,” Kalama said, mumbling under her breath.

  “Know what? What’s the big deal?”

  “Never mind, you’ll understand soon enough.” Jack heaved an annoyed sigh, which seemed to be his standard response for the night and turned his attention back to driving.

  * * * * *

  The air was cooler in Volcano due to the higher altitude than the Hilo coast. Goosebumps rose on Kalama’s bare arms and she ran her palms over them to ward off the faint chill. The house was a sweet, green one-story that sat a ways off the main road. Thick, tropical foliage wrapped itself around the white trim, engulfing the house in an embrace. Leaves rustled in the darkness, the wind plucking at the trees. Kalama felt something watching her, hunting her. Stalking her.

  “Are you cold?” Jack asked, reaching in to the back of the Jeep to grab Kalama’s backpack.

  “A bit. I’m pretty hot-blooded and tend to get cold easily. Let’s go in.”

  Jack grinned and gestured to the pathway leading to the front door. A single sound escaped her, a soft breath of understanding. Kalama watched Jack fumble with the key. She couldn’t help imagining those strong, capable hands stroking over her body. No sooner had the thought entered her mind than she shoved it away. The last thing she needed was this haole arousing her interest, among other things.

  “It’s a little stuck,” he said sheepishly. Placing her backpack down, Jack braced a shoulder against the door and heaved. The wood scraped against the jamb and finally gave way. Kalama bit back an amused giggle. He looked so cute fighting a door. She stepped over the threshold.

  “Lights, Jack?” Kalama asked, feeling around in the dark in an attempt to locate the light switch. She turned back to the doorway to see Jack’s large frame outlined in the moonlight. The silver light created a halo around his muscular body. Heat pooled in her veins, liquid and sweet. Rooted to the spot, Kalama watched Jack move from the doorway into the engulfing darkness of the house.

  The sound of his breathing mixed in the sultry tropical air, blending with her own shallow intakes. The power of her desire for him took her back. Jack dropped her backpack on the floor with a thud. The sound reverberated around the room, sending a jolt through her. That meant his hands were empty. Those large, work-hardened hands were free to roam her body.

  Kalama wasn’t sure who moved first, but in the next minute she was in his arms, her curv
es pressed tight against the hard planes of his body. His kiss was gentle in his demands, his lips drifting over hers like a wave licking the shore. Kalama looped her arms around his neck, resting her palms at his nape and running her fingers lightly through the silky locks of his hair. She felt his hunger build to ravenous levels as he groaned against her lips. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into the moist cavern of her mouth. His hands skimmed over the contours of her body, molded her curves. Taking a moment to rest his hands on her shapely hips, Jack rocked his pelvis against hers. The first brush of his growing erection against her stomach sent a shock to her very core. Kalama moaned low in her throat.

  Jack toyed with the edge of her tank top, skating his fingertips over the exposed flesh of her stomach. She craved his touch like no other. His kiss sent fire racing through her blood. She felt as if there was molten lava in her veins. Jack broke free of her mouth and rained kisses along her jawline, cheeks and nose. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

  “I’ve wanted to kiss you all day, which is crazy considering we hardly know each other,” Jack whispered, tracing the delicate whorl of her ear with his tongue. He tugged on the tender flesh of her earlobe, biting down gently. Kalama whimpered as a flash of desire ripped through her.

  “This is lolo, Jack. We should stop,” Kalama said, the words coming out in the merest whisper. She gasped when Jack ran his free hand up under the cotton of her tank top and gently cupped her breast. He flicked the pad of his thumb over the already hardened peak of her nipple.

  “I can’t seem to stop touching you. Do you want me to?” Jack asked, trailing a line of kisses down her throat.

  “No.” The word was a whisper, an acquiescence, an indulgence. Unfortunately the world outside had a different answer. A loud crash came from the back bedroom, tearing them apart. Kalama jumped at the sound and dug her hands into Jack’s shoulders. Sliding his hand from her breast, he wrapped his arms around her waist in a comforting, protective gesture.

  “You stay here. I’m going to check it out.” Jack released her and gently moved her behind him. Kalama gripped his forearm in an effort to get him to stay put. She did not want him going in that room.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” Kalama said.

  “It could also be a prowler. Just stay put.” Jack crept silently to the back bedroom. Kalama watched him swing open the door and flick on the light. Nothing. Kalama sighed. Her fears had been correct. She knew exactly what had caused the noise, and there was no way she could tell Jack. He would never believe her. So much for fun and games with the handsome scientist, now because of some wayward noise, she had to get rid of him. It was for the best, she told herself. She had already gotten too close to Jack for her sanity. In the residual light provided by the open bedroom door, Kalama located the front room lamp and switched it on. The living area was instantly bathed in a creamy, golden glow.

  “See, it was nothing, probably the wind knocking something over,” Kalama said. Jack flicked off the light and returned to the living room.

  “I guess.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, further ruffling the already disheveled strands. Kalama imagined that’s what it would look like after a night of hot sex. Looking for a distraction to her sexy thoughts and the memory of how his hand had felt cupping her breast, Kalama headed into the kitchen. She opened the ancient refrigerator, not at all surprised to see it was empty.

  “Okay, so there is nothing to eat in this kitchen,” Kalama said after finishing her search through the meager cupboards.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think to get groceries. I’ve had a lot on my mind.” Jack sank down on the threadbare sofa that hugged the right side wall.

  “That’s okay. But I’ll need coffee in the morning or I can’t be held accountable for the havoc I wreak,” Kalama said.

  “Well, my house is only down the road a short walk. I can bring you some in the morning. After that we can head to the grocery store.”

  “Sounds good, but can we hit the farmer’s market instead? I like to help out the local merchants and growers.” Kalama flopped down on the couch near Jack. The cushions were soft and squishy, cocooning her in their warmth. The raggedy sofa was more comfortable than it appeared. “Tell me about the break-in.” Jack’s muscular chest heaved as a massive sigh of frustration ripped from him.

  “I’d rather kiss you again.”

  “Kissing is a bad idea,” Kalama said, an amused smile tugging at her lips.

  “Kissing you is certainly not a bad idea. Why would you even think that?” Jack asked, his blue eyes held a hint of confusion.

  “Never mind. Now quit stalling,” Kalama said, brushing aside the sudden urge to give in and slant her lips against his.

  “The Jaggar Museum was broken into last night. Some artifacts were taken and no one can figure out why the hell it’s happening. Not the Rangers, not the Kahunas, not even me. And this wasn’t the first time either.” Lines of worry furrowed his brow, a look of fatigue filled his eyes and his massive shoulders seemed to slump under the strain of it. “Someone is destroying the offerings left at the crater rim as well.”

  “I’ll bet Pele just loves that,” Kalama mumbled under her breath. Jack gave her a quizzical look. “Never mind. What was stolen exactly?”

  “A smaller lava rock exercise ball and a glyph page on ti cloth on loan.” Jack scrubbed a free hand over his eyes.

  “What was on the cloth?”

  “It was a drawing of some kind of tiki carving.” Jack sighed and turned to meet her eyes.

  “We have to get them back, Jack,” Kalama said and scooted a little closer to him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hug him close. He seemed so sad, so lost when it came to the thefts.

  “Don’t I know it? We also have to stop the vandalism going on. I have no idea why someone would want to destroy the offerings. They’re not hurting anyone.”

  Kalama lifted her hand and caressed it along the back of his neck, letting her fingers work out a bit of the tension she encountered there.

  “I think maybe you should head home and get some sleep. God knows I could use some. That flight from Vanuatu was a killer. We can go over the details of the vandalism tomorrow when the day is fresh.” Kalama stood, not really wanting to send Jack on his merry way, but she had no choice.

  “I get the hint,” Jack said, rising from the couch and heading toward the front door.

  “I’m tired, Jack. That’s all. It’s been an interesting first day.” Kalama followed him out, standing on the front lanai as he headed to the Jeep. He flashed a smile, sliding into the seat. Raising a hand, she waved her goodbye and let an answering smile light up her face.

  Jack turned the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered, refusing to jump to life. Jack’s face fell into an expression of confusion. He turned the key again. The sound of grinding gears filled the air as the engine declined to turn over. Slamming his hand on the steering wheel, Jack let out a curse.

  “The Jeep won’t start.”

  “Auwe.” Kalama rolled her eyes heavenward in annoyance and shook her head. “Let me look. Pop the hood.” Kalama stepped down from the lanai. She waited for the soft click letting her know that Jack had indeed done as she asked. Lifting the hood, she peered through the darkness at the engine.

  “Can you see anything?” Jack asked, coming to stand beside her and leaning down, his body brushing against hers.

  “Jack, I need you to run into the house and get the flashlight out of my backpack for me.” He nodded, turning and bounding up the stairs back into the house. Kalama waited until his tall frame was completely out of sight and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Makuahine, you start this car right now.” Kalama’s voice as she spit out the command. Taking a fortifying breath, Kalama cranked the key in the ignition. Nothing.

  “Don’t mess with me. I’m mad enough at you as it is. Start this damn engine,” Kalama said, her voice a low hiss in the night air. Twisting the key once more the engine finally roared to life
. The sound of running brought Kalama’s attention up from the dashboard. Jack stood on the lanai, flashlight in one hand and an amazed expression on his face.

  “How did you start it?”

  “Magic.” Kalama shrugged and smiled. Jack walked down the stairs and took her place behind the steering wheel.

  Chapter Five

  Once Jack’s Jeep was out of sight down the road, Kalama walked back into the house she would inhabit as long as she was needed in Hawaii. But first she had to discover what was really going on. Shutting the front door firmly behind her, Kalama locked the latch, and strode into the living room. Her eyes darted around the interior, searching. She put her hands on her hips, annoyance clearly written on her face.

  “Mother, get your butt out here,” she said gruffly into the air. Kalama cocked an eyebrow as the old woman from the side of the road sashayed from the back bedroom.

  “You shouldn’t speak to me so harshly,” the old woman said, coming to face Kalama.

  “You deserve it, messing with Jack’s car like that.”

  “He should have given me a ride.” The old woman’s voice was youthful and strong, a complete contradiction with her grizzled appearance.

  “Cut the crap, Mom.” Kalama folded her arms across her chest and waited. “I know he should have, but he’s one stubborn man. He refuses to believe in you or magic. He’s a man of science.”

  With a twinkle in her dark eyes, the old woman’s wrinkled visage began to melt away. The heavily lined flesh smoothed to a fine, burnished bronze. Snapping black eyes were no longer dull and graying with age. The snowy white hair turned inky and lengthened down the woman’s back. The white muumuu morphed to a lush crimson. The woman grew a foot in that instant, causing her to tower over Kalama. Kalama couldn’t stop the grin from lighting up her face.