what?”
“From you.”
Aloha forced herself to laugh. “Get real, Denise. Do you think I have designs on your father?”
That threw her. She stepped backward, thinking. Then: “You don’t?”
I do. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
“The fact that you seduced him tonight. The fact that your parents don’t ever care about anything you ever do. The fact that you always get the boy you go after—”
“That’s not true.”
“I can bring in some of my girlfriends to swear to it. I thought you were my friend. The fact that you worked hard to arrange the events of tonight. And now that I mention it, it occurs to me that there have been a couple of other occasions you’ve come over and I wasn’t here but something came up.”
“Please. You are imagining things.” Until tonight, Aloha’s strategies had not worked.
“Am I?”
It was late and Aloha suddenly found herself no longer elated but weary. “I don’t want to fight, Denise. You’re my friend. Look. How about if I promise to stay away from Rudd?” Like hell I will.
“You’d do that?”
“For you. For our friendship.” So you don’t poison your dashing, handsome pilot of a father against me. Somehow somebody had poisoned Rudd’s relationship with his ex-wife. Why had they gotten divorced?
“Well, maybe.”
“And don’t be telling any tales out of school about me.” Damn, shouldn’t have said that.
Denise cast an appraising eye. Denise had leverage over her now. “Maybe, maybe not.”
Aloha knew that Rudd was impressionable now, and whether he believed any rumors about her or not, they would be damning just in the telling. Especially coming from Denise, the apple of his eye. And, while Aloha knew hers was probably just a schoolgirl’s infatuation, something special and different had happened tonight and she didn’t want to lose Rudd so soon. She’d been in heat before. But this was different. She’d even dated Denise’s brother Buddy, but they’d never had sex.
“Maybe I won’t tell him if you reveal your age,” said Denise.
CHAPTER TWO
HIM
Rudyard Kipling Six banked his aircraft. The Gulf of Mexico glittered beneath the Beech. He pulled back the yoke and performed his turn.
He settled back and sighed. His eyes swung back and forth metronome like. Too much traffic today. Up here with the muted engine noise and wind blowing past, he could think.
Rudd was obsessed. He didn’t want to think of his infatuation. He’d been alone for so long. His son was long gone, thank God, and Denise had a dorm room at Reynolds Hall on campus. She visited home to do her laundry and spend weekends away from school. And whenever she wanted to get away.
Aloha Blaze. What a name. It caught your attention. Just as she caught your attention. She was getting under his skin. Rudd knew she’d been a schoolmate of Denise’s, over at Leon High. Denise had graduated and gone on to FSU in town. Aloha Blaze was now a junior. A damn teenager in high school! He, Rudyard Kipling Six was having an affair. Forty-seven and she—? From something Denise had said, Rudd assumed Aloha was eighteen. Legal but—Rudd was a relatively moral man. He’d served in Southeast Asia, killed more than his share of fellow human beings and knew that life did not conform to any secular or moral rules. Whatever worked within the cultural dynamic. He groaned. He was starting to use uncommon terms as did Denise.
He’d not wanted to continue with Aloha after that first night; but he was trapped. God, she was so young. But he had no control over his own body, his own will. Not now. Not with her. Not anymore. A fatal flaw, he realized. She was an ache in the pit of his stomach, an ache which refused to go away.
It was something that had grown over the last few months, triggered one day by Aloha herself and her frank, appraising look. He liked her voice, her piercing green eyes, her hourglass figure, and the sensuous invisible smoke she exuded. While her unique attractiveness wasn’t enough to sway him, her character was. She was very bright; she had a quick, wide smile; and she had a special self-deprecating sense of humor.
And now he could not get her out of his head.
This attraction was against his will. He was a moth to her flame.
Denise had gone back to FSU Monday morning.
Monday evening there was Aloha, boldly knocking on his door and weaving around him as he stood astonished in the doorway. They had not talked. He was mesmerized. They made love for two hours. He fell asleep and she was gone when he awakened.
He did not see her on Tuesday and was relieved.
Wednesday night he’d already been asleep when she awakened him, naked body hard and demanding.
“How’d you get in?” he asked.
“You’ve a drawer full of keys,” she said into his mouth, her tongue slashing, seeking. Her supple hands moved, sought.
“We have to talk,” he mumbled, pulling her closer, surrendering his will.
“I’d rather do this.”
“Um, me too.”
She spent the entire night.
Never needing an alarm clock, he awoke at five-thirty, having an early charter to Birmingham. She was up like a cat when he rose. When he came into the kitchen, the coffee pot was perking and she was stirring oatmeal on the stove. She gave him an apprehensive smile.
“Domestic, huh?” she said, giving him a shy look.
She wore jeans and a denim vest buttoned twice. No bra, no shirt. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to suppress his desire. Under her champagne hair, her dark brows and deep-set forest-green eyes added years to her. The only makeup she wore was bright red lipstick. It all gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling: one he knew was more dangerous and damning than the gut level attraction he felt for her.
“Sit down. How do you like your coffee?”
He sat. He gulped air. Do it, he demanded of himself.
“Black.” He stared at her as she handed him the cup. “Listen, Aloha. We can’t....”
“Can’t what?” Her smile was impish.
“Can’t go on like this.”
“Why not?” Her voice innocent now.
“You don’t even know how I like my coffee, yet we’ve shared the most intimate of experiences.”
“Your point being?”
“We shouldn’t be having this affair.” Coffee scalded his throat, and it was strong.
