Lindsay McKenna - Hunter's Pride

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.

Kulani began her formal introduction to her eager passengers as she gently lifted the helicopter off the asphalt tarmac of Lihue Airport. Ascending quickly to one thousand feet, the prescribed altitude for her aircraft, she started off on her usual route. Kulani wasn’t surprised to hear gasps of pleasure from the women passengers as the immense size and grandeur of Kauai came into view. They always appreciated Kauai’s incredible green beauty.

“Kauai is called the Garden Island for good reason,” she said as she moved her aircraft toward the western, drier side of the island. “You can see the magnificent dormant volcano—Mount Waialeale which we’ll visit later—in the middle of the island. As we fly around it, south to west, you’ll find a lot of sugar cane being grown below.”

“Not pineapple?”

Kulani’s neck prickled pleasantly. Jack Carson’s deep voice was like the rough lick of a cat’s tongue on her flesh. It wasn’t unusual for passengers to ask questions, but she’d never had such a response to a question before. “Not pineapple, Mr. Carson. Just a lotta sweet sugar cane on this island.”

She continued her talk. Kauai Community College sped by beneath them and they crossed the major road that encircled two-thirds of the island, the Kaumualii Highway. “As we go south, it gets a lot drier. There’s not as much rainfall down here as up on the north coast of Kauai. The main tourist hotels down in this part are located around Poipu. You can see the clear turquoise and emerald colors of a healthy ocean below us.”

“How about whales?”

It was Carson—again. He was leaning forward in his seat, his camera balanced between his very large hands.

“They come in from about November through May every year to calve their babies here. The north shore, the Na Pali Coast area, is where most of the sightings take place.” She licked her lips. Carson was so close. She felt vulnerable to his warm, vibrant presence. As if sensing her unease, he sat back in his seat. Internally, Kulani breathed a sigh of relief. Trying to concentrate on the changes of terrain taking place beneath her, she urged her helicopter toward the western side of the island.

The land below turned from green to the many different colors of dried earth. “What you see coming up beneath us is Waimea Canyon. When Mark Twain was here, he called it the Grand Canyon of the Pacific. The layers of earth represent different eruptions and lava flows. The canyon is ten miles long and one mile deep. For those who are hikers, you can actually walk thirty-six hundred feet down into the bottom of it.”

“I’d like to take that hike with you. You look like you could handle it.”

Carson—again. Kulani found his intrusions unsettling. Not in a bad way; rather, a good way. She absorbed his low, vibrating voice into her body and, surprisingly, into her heart. Maybe it was just because she was feeling vulnerable. After all, they were getting close to the Na Pali Coast, and Kulani dreaded this part of the trip. Already, her chest was beginning to feel as if a band were around it. And Carson’s voice somehow, almost miraculously, had dissolved her fears—if only momentarily.

“I don’t do hiking, Mr. Carson. I like to fly,” she teased back, her voice a bit off-key.

He chuckled deeply and took a few snapshots out the window. “If I pack the sandwiches, the bottle of wine and bring along some great desserts, will you go with me?”

The other passengers all chuckled at his joking. Kulani felt heat crawling up her neck and flooding her face. Blushing! Of all things. It didn’t look very professional, she was sure. Keeping her focus on the instruments before her, she laughed a little. “I know a whole lotta ants that would love to take you up on your offer, Mr. Carson.”

“Shucks, shot down again.” Dev grinned at his audience, who were all smiling and laughing with him. He saw the redness creep into Kulani’s soft, golden skin and he saw one corner of that incredibly luscious mouth pull slightly upward. Sensing that he had his foot in the door, he decided to work on getting her to go out to dinner with him tonight. One way or another. Right now, he felt like a hunter on the track of an animal he wanted to bring down. There was always the thrill of the chase for him where women were concerned, but Kulani wasn’t just any woman. She was unique. Sultry. Enigmatic. He didn’t quite know what was going on in that head of hers. He wished he could look her in the eye, but from this angle, all he could see was her clean, aristocratic profile.

They flew over the canyon, then on toward the northern part of the island. Clouds that were forming like white cotton candy along the green-clad slopes mesmerized Dev. The whole scene was beautiful.

“What you’re seeing right now,” Kulani said, “are the misty forests of Koke State Park, woodlands that surround this incredible canyon. We’re going to rise and follow the brush-and-tree-clad slopes to the top, on the other side of which is the Na Pali Coast.” Her throat closed. She felt grief surge through her. Automatically, her hands tightened around the collective and cyclic. Her heart began to beat a little harder as the helicopter began to climb the verdant slope toward the top of the ridge that separated the canyon from the coast.