Hunter's Pride. Lindsay McKenna
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Hunter's Pride - Lindsay McKenna страница 7
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,”