by Elle James
She stared up into his green eyes. “I didn’t take you for much of a rule-follower.”
He dipped his head lower until his mouth was close to hers. “Can’t say that I am.” He brushed his lips across hers. “Damn. There I go again, breaking all the rules.” Then he drew her into his arms and kissed her longer, harder and deeper than she could ever have imagined, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed.
When he finally set her at arm’s length, he shook his head. “This could be bad.”
Kalea touched her fingertips to her lips. “Why?”
“I need to maintain focus, but all I can focus on is your lips and how much I want to keep kissing them.” He drew in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “I might have to fire myself from this job. If I were smart, I’d call my boss. You need someone who isn’t going to lose his mind every time you’re near.” He stepped away from her, moving to the side to allow her to cross the hallway into her bedroom. “You should probably go before I forget who we are again.”
She started that direction and stopped. He was right. To do his job, he couldn’t be distracted. If he thought he couldn’t get the focus he needed, he’d get someone else to do the job and leave. Though Kalea had never wanted the constraints of having someone follow her around twenty-four-seven, she couldn’t imagine anyone else but Hawk in that role.
She squared her shoulders and turned to him, taking a page from his original playbook and donning a poker face. “I don’t want a different bodyguard. You said we had to pretend we were an actual couple. I was just doing my part. It was all an act. You don’t have to worry that I’m attracted to you. I’ll have no problem keeping it professional, unless we need to…act.” She stared at him, holding that straight face, refusing to let any of her internal warring emotions show through.
His eyes narrowed for a brief moment, and then he nodded. “Good. Let’s keep it that way. But if I slip at all, I’m calling Hank and asking him to send a replacement. Keeping you alive is the end goal here.”
“As it should be.” Kalea turned and entered her room, closing the door behind her before she relaxed her face and let the tears slip down her cheeks. She brushed them away. Life had gotten way too complicated. She wanted a man who wanted her, but if he had her, he’d have to leave. She couldn’t step out of her house without being fully aware of the target she presented to any crackpot sniper who decided she needed to be wiped off the face of the earth. And tomorrow, she’d fly to Oahu with the man who made her heart flutter and her knees turn to Jell-O. But she’d have to pretend they were a couple while pretending she didn’t care about him. How messed up was that?
How she wished she could talk to her mother at times like these. She would have had the kind of advice Kalea needed in the ways of the heart and dealing with men. Her mother had captured the heart of the great John Parkman and held it in her hand until the day she’d died and beyond. Kalea’s father had yet to get over her mother’s death, even though it had been years. She wondered if he’d ever marry again.
When Clarise had come to work for Parkman Ranch, Kalea thought she might be the one to break her father’s long reign of grief. He’d shown more interest in her than any other woman he’d come into contact with since his wife’s death. But he still hadn’t committed to a relationship, much less a first date with the woman.
Clarise wasn’t much older than Kalea, but if her father fell in love again, she wouldn’t stand in the way, no matter how old or young his chosen partner was. She wanted her father to be happy.
Would she ever feel comfortable confiding in her father’s new bride like the mother she’d lost…? No. Kalea was old enough to figure out her own problems. But she still missed her mother and wished she could talk to her.
Kalea’s mother would have loved Hawk. Of that, she was certain. He was handsome, strong, protective and sincere. If only he wasn’t an employee, things might have worked out differently. But he was, and they couldn’t.
Kalea entered her room and pulled on strappy sandals to go with the Hawaiian-print dress. Smoothing a brush through her wavy hair, she pulled it straight back from her forehead. She debated putting on makeup but decided against it. She shouldn’t encourage Hawk by making more of an effort to look nice. She wasn’t going to seduce him, and he wasn’t going to take her up on a seduction, even if she tried.
Purely professional. That’s how it will be from now on, she told herself.
Armed with that thought, she left her room and descended the staircase to the ground floor to find Clarise in the foyer with a man she’d seen before, dressed in a gray suit and a red tie.
Clarise smiled as she approached. “Kalea, you remember Tyler Beckett, the CEO of Prestige Spa Resort on Maui, don’t you?”
Beckett extended a hand. “Miss Parkman, it’s nice to see you again.”
She shook the man’s hand, her grip stronger than his weak one. “Aren’t you the man who’s been trying to convince my father to build a resort on Parkman Ranch?”
Beckett nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I don’t give up easily. Especially when I see a lot of potential in a particular project.”
“My father isn’t interested in building a resort on Parkman Ranch.” She faced Clarise with a forced smile. “I thought he told you that in no uncertain terms.”
Clarise’s smooth, elegant brow wrinkled slightly. “It’s been a while since he’s spoken with Tyler. Perhaps he will listen this time.”
Kalea could already tell dinner would be strained. Her father had never wanted to deal with the tourism side of Parkman Ranch. Though he was an astute businessman, he was a cattle rancher, not a people pleaser. He preferred working with the animals. Like Hawk.
The only reason there was a tourism aspect to the ranch was because his grandmother had insisted it was their duty to share the history of the ranch with those interested, and to show people from the mainland the amazing things they were doing as the largest cattle ranch on the islands. He’d continued to support his grandmother’s dream but had put his foot down on the subject of expanding beyond the few hundred people who made Parkman Ranch their vacation destination each year.
“Ah, Clarise, I didn’t think you’d be here for dinner this evening since you came last night.” Kalea’s father emerged from his study with a smile on his face. That smile turned downward when he spotted Tyler Beckett. “Beckett, this is a surprise.” He held out his hand, though his gaze went to Clarise, his eyes narrowing. “Did I miss the memo?” He shook Beckett’s hand and released it quickly.
Clarise turned on her hundred-watt charm with a brilliant smile. She leaned up on her toes and pressed a kiss to Kalea’s father’s cheek. “I didn’t think you’d mind. It’s always good to hear the news from the other islands and see what’s trending. I called ahead to let the chef know I was coming with one guest.”
Kalea swallowed a snort. Clarise was in charge of marketing everything to do with Parkman Ranch, from advertising the excellent beef they raised to ensuring the dude ranch got the proper notice in the Hawaiian travel brochures each year. She made no secret that she wanted to expand tourism on the Big Island. Oahu was the main hub of Hawaiian tourism, with Maui second. Though the Big Island was the largest in land mass, it was third in annual number of visiting tourists. Clarise wanted to increase the number of visitors to the island by giving them more options at the Parkman Ranch.
Her father wasn’t interested. He liked Clarise, her beauty, wit and determination, but she wasn’t winning any popularity contest with John Parkman with the direction she wished to take the ranch.
Kalea didn’t worry. Her father could handle his marketing manager.
Clarise clapped her hands together. “Are we ready to be seated?” she said, as if she were the hostess, not the guest.
“Just waiting on one more,” her father said.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” a deep voice said from behind Kalea. Hawk joined them, slipped an arm around Kalea’s waist and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. He he
ld out a hand to Beckett. “Jace Hawkins.”
Heat spread throughout Kalea’s body from where Hawk’s hand rested. Pretending to be a couple while keeping a professional distance would be impossible.
“Tyler Beckett.” The resort CEO shook Hawk’s hand and raised an eyebrow toward Clarise.
“Mr. Hawkins is the new paniolo on the ranch.” Her brow furrowed, and she raised her own brow at Hawk’s familiarity with Kalea. “Am I missing something?”
“Actually, we didn’t want to make a big deal of it, but Kalea and I go back to when she went to college in San Diego. I wasn’t completely up front with Mr. Parkman when I interviewed for the paniolo position. I knew Kalea, but I wanted to get the job based on my own merit, not because I’m in love with his daughter.”
Clarise’s forehead pinched. “In love?” She looked to Kalea’s father. “Did you know any of this?”
Her father shook his head and grinned. “Nope. Not until they returned from horseback riding. Then it all came out. I couldn’t be happier for my little girl. About time she found someone to love.” He winked at her. “And Hawk seems to be a good guy, with Kalea’s best interests and happiness at heart.” He clapped a hand to Hawk’s shoulder. “I’d be happy to have him as part of the family.”
“Whoa, Daddy.” Kalea laughed. “Don’t rush things. One, we just reconnected and are getting acquainted again. And two, he hasn’t asked or put a ring on my finger yet.” She forced a smile up at Hawk. “I don’t want you to scare him off.”
“Right, right.” Her father squeezed Hawk’s shoulder. “There’s plenty of time to figure out I’m a pushy father…after the wedding.” Again, he winked. “Come on, let’s eat. These two have had a demanding day, they need food to replenish their reserves.” He walked on one side of Hawk, while Kalea walked on the other, leading the other two guests into the formal dining room.
Ule had the table set with fine china, polished silverware and crystal goblets.
“What’s the special occasion?” Kalea’s father asked when Ule entered carrying a roasted chicken surrounded by asparagus and cooked carrots.
“Miss Sanders asked for the china.” Ule set the platter on the table.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Clarise hurried to say. “Such beautiful things should be used, not hidden away in a cabinet.”
Kalea’s father stared at the china, his gaze farther away than the table.
The last time they’d used the china had been years ago, before her mother had died. They’d gotten it out to celebrate her last birthday on earth.
Kalea placed a hand on her father’s shoulder. “The table is gorgeous. Mother would have loved that the china you gave her is being used.”
He nodded and covered her hand on his shoulder. “You’re right.” He pulled out the chair beside his for Kalea.
She slipped into the seat and waited as the others took seats around the table.
Ule returned with another platter of manapau, the puffy buns filled with chicken or beans Kalea loved so much.
“Thank you, Ule,” Kalea said and smiled. Her mother had made the Hawaiian treat at every holiday. She wondered what point Ule was trying to make by serving manapau. Perhaps he’d made the traditional dish to honor her memory. Whatever the chef’s reason, Kalea appreciated the gesture and selected one from the plate.
Hawk sat beside Kalea. Clarise and Beckett took the seats on the opposite side of the table.
Kalea’s father carved the roasted chicken and served a portion of the meat and vegetables to Kalea, Hawk and himself before passing the platter and serving fork to Clarise.
Conversation at the dinner table revolved around the price of beef and how different advertising had helped disseminate news about the beef available in local markets on the islands. Clarise had contracted a local communications company to produce a television commercial. The ad on television had generated interest from supermarkets that had been getting their beef shipped in from the mainland. So many people on the mainland, as well as in Hawaii itself, were unaware of the amount of beef raised on the Big Island. The ad campaigns were part of an effort to educate the people of Hawaii on what their state had to offer.
“The ads appear to be working,” Clarise said. “Over the past month, sales have increased, and we’ve had a number of inquiries asking for pricing and delivery dates.”
“That’s excellent,” John said, “considering those ads cost a fortune.”
“It takes money to make money,” Clarise reminded him. “And I’m keeping track of the return on investment. If we make a few more sales than normal, we’ll have earned back all that money and more.”
“That’s why I pay you the big bucks,” Kalea’s father said.
“I’m sure what you pay in advertising for your ranch operations is a mere fraction of what we have to pay in the resort business,” Beckett said. “We’re in competition with so many other resorts, we have to pour significant amounts of money into our advertising budgets to be seen in the Hawaiian tourism trade.”
“All the more reason to stick to what we do best,” John Parkman said. “Raising cattle is what we do. Catering to tourists is just a side operation.”
“Oh, but it could be so much more.” Beckett leaned forward. “Advertising isn’t a four-letter word. It’s a necessary part of the resort and tourism industry.” He nodded toward Kalea. “Even your little attempt at inviting guests to stay on the ranch wouldn’t get noticed if you weren’t included in some kind of advertising, isn’t that right, Miss Parkman?” He raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you attending the Hawaiian Tourism Commission meeting tomorrow in Honolulu?”
She nodded. “I am.”
“And if you didn’t attend, Parkman Ranch wouldn’t be listed in the tourism guide they produce, would it?” Beckett waited for her response.
Kalea shrugged. “They only support those who make the effort to show up.”
“And Parkman Ranch has the added advantage of being part of Hawaiian heritage. It’s been in existence since the early 1800s,” Beckett stated, though the Parkmans were completely aware of the facts. “Can you imagine how many more people you could reach if you put money into advertising your guest facilities?”
“We maintain one hundred percent occupancy,” Kalea said. “Most of that is word-of-mouth. We only care about the Tourism brochure because it lists heritage sites.”
“I bet if you had an upscale resort on the ranch, you’d fill it as well,” Beckett said. “Easily.”
“That’s just the point.” Color rose in John Parkman cheeks. “We don’t want more people. The number of guests we already get is more than enough. I don’t want the headache of entertaining more. And I don’t want them interfering with our primary purpose, which is raising cattle.”
Kalea didn’t like it when her father got upset. And he was well on his way to upset.
“But—” Beckett started.
Clarise touched a hand briefly to Beckett’s arm. “Ule is such a good cook. This chicken practically melts in my mouth. John, what will you do when Ule retires? Has he started training another chef to fill his shoes when he’s ready to leave?”
“Ule assures me he’s going to stay until he can’t cook anymore,” Kalea said. “He figures he’s got another twenty or so years left in him.” She didn’t want Ule going anywhere. He was part of her family.
“For that matter,” Clarise continued, “have you considered what will happen when there are no more Parkmans to run the ranch?”
“I haven’t given up hope of Kalea giving me grandchildren,” he smiled across at Kalea.
“Dad.” Kalea frowned briefly but patted her father’s hand.
“I know, I know. Stop trying to run your life.” Her father sighed. “It’s really too bad arranged marriages have gone out of style. I’d already have half a dozen grandkids running wild around the place, if I had my way.”
“Dad…” Kalea repeated.
“Okay, I’ll lay off.” He squeezed her hand. “I only wa
nt you to be happy. If having half a dozen kids makes you happy, even better.” He winked. “No pressure.”
Her cheeks flushed with heat, Kalea stared down at her food, no longer hungry. She planned on having children, but just hadn’t met the right man. As she neared thirty, she’d worried she never would. What man wanted a woman who could ride horses and herd cattle? Most of them wanted a woman who could cook, clean and raise children as well as hold down an office job.
Kalea wanted a man who wanted her for herself. A man who wanted a partner. One who would share in all responsibilities of running a house, bringing in money and raising children. She liked working hard and wanted someone who would appreciate and respect her for that, not take it away.
She shot a sideways glance at Hawk.
He reached beneath the table, found her hand on her lap, and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Her heart warmed and swelled. She wished she could find a man like Hawk. He could ride almost as well as she could. He knew horses and cattle and worked hard for what he wanted, as evidenced by his success as a Navy SEAL.
“Mr. Parkman, Clarise makes a good point. Have you thought about what would happen to Parkman Ranch if there were no more Parkmans to pass it on to?” Beckett asked.
“I’ve been working with an attorney. The ranch and all its assets have been rolled into a trust. Should something happen to either me or Kalea, the trust would be run by a trustee. The operations would continue on as usual. All the employees would still have their jobs.”
“Where would the profits go?” Clarise asked.
“I’ve identified a few charities that would benefit from them, as well as some scholarships for indigenous Hawaiians who need a hand with college or trade school tuition.”
Kalea’s father finished his meal and sat back. “Why don’t we take coffee out on the porch. It’s a beautiful night. It would be a shame to waste it indoors.”
