“No.”
“What?”
The wind whipped up, whistling through the seams of the helicopter and rattling its sides. As the ground grew closer, Cal held on tighter. “I’ll make a deal with you. I get us down safely and you lead us to the crash site.”
“So, if I survive the landing, I still have to survive the hike. There’s a great deal.”
“I thought so.”
“For you, maybe.”
The brown patches below inched closer. The outlines of scattered trees and shrubs became more defined. She could make out the landscape and see that there was no visible landing site.
The question she was about to ask blended with a scream lodged in her throat. Both escaped in a rush when the helicopter started to drop from the sky like a stone.
Cal shot Cassie one more know-it-all smile. “Time to land.”
Dirt kicked up and small rocks pelted the side of the helicopter as it hovered over a small patch of solid ground. The thundering inside the aircraft vibrated in her ears as it swayed from side to side.
She could see from the tension in Cal’s arms that he fought with the air rushing up beneath them. Nothing comforting there. Her heart raced and perspiration dripped down her back.
Cal stayed perfectly composed. His long fingers danced across the instruments with surprising precision. With steady hands and spare movements, he lowered the craft to the ground.
He even had the nerve to whistle.
“Still doing okay?” He shouted again.
She would be better in two minutes when her feet touched Mother Earth and she dropped to her knees in thanks. “Just great.”
“Some people don’t like helicopters.”
She wished he would stop the chitchat and just land, but he continued his steady stream of conversation.
“Not you, though. You’re tough and in charge,” he said.
And too nauseated to speak. Cassie tightened her death grip on the door frame and mumbled a little prayer. “Feel free to concentrate on flying.”
“It’s fine now. I can talk and fly at the same time.” He shot her a quizzical look. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Eyes forward and land this thing.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
The aircraft hesitated, floating right above the surface. One last plume of dirt and leaves kicked up before the helicopter bounced against the ground. After the third rebound it settled.
Cassie almost bolted out of the small door before the helicopter came to a full stop. She figured Cal would enjoy her distress in some weird macho way, so she forced her body to stay still.
“Here we are. That wasn’t too bad,” he shouted over the whapping of the copter blades.
Cassie thought about poking his dimple but stuck her tongue out at him instead.
He smiled back at her. “Very mature.”
“It was either that or throw up on your lap.”
“Good choice then.” He hopped out and stretched his muscular frame. He moved with the grace of a primitive jungle cat. His limbs were long and every inch of him firm and chiseled. If the Air Force put him on a poster, the ranks would be bursting with eager female recruits.
Typical flyboy. Handsome and cocky as sin…and nothing but trouble.
Chapter Eleven
Cal stood by Cassie’s door and watched her fumble with the seat belt. Her hands shook too hard to dislodge the buckle. To do anything, really.
He flipped her door open before she lost her cool, something he didn’t want to see. As frustrating as the fiery Cassie could be, he preferred her to the sad Cassie he glimpsed when she thought he wasn’t looking.
“Here you go,” he said as he reached in. “Those belts can be a bit tricky.”
He knew he had terrified her. Hell, she had not been the only one. The canyon acted like a wind tunnel, sending dangerous gusts ricocheting through the helicopter. The wind rocked the aircraft until he thought the metal would fly apart.
He should have insisted Cassie stay in the safety of the airport office. Hell, he should have stayed in Florida.
“That was fun.” A small, almost imperceptible tremor moved through her usually husky voice.
“Now, why do I think you’re not being honest?”
“Because my stomach is still stuck about two hundred feet in the air.”
He nodded. “It was a bumpy ride.”
“There’s an understatement.”
She jumped out of her seat before he could caution her. As expected, her legs buckled the minute her feet hit the dirt. To keep her from slipping to the ground in a heap, he balanced his hands on her slim waist and pulled her close.
“You okay?”
“Been better.”
“When?”
“Almost always.”
Cal paid a price for his chivalry. The small touch, inhaling that fruity feminine fragrance that wove around her, shot a beam of electricity up his arms, through his body, and directly to his groin. His gaze skimmed down her tanned legs to her flimsy white sneakers. Her legs were firm and lean, and the perfect length to wrap around his waist. The T-shirt was just thin enough to scratch at his imagination.
His attraction to her was primitive and raw as it gnawed at his control. Rather than give in, he trampled it down. “Time to go.”
“Can I try to walk first?”
“By all means.” He moved his arm in a sweeping gesture, hoping she would take the hint and step back. He needed a minute or two of breathing room.
No such luck. She stood there shaking out one leg then the other. When he turned back to the aircraft to gather their provisions, she was right there with him.
“I still say we are dangerously low on supplies to try this walk,” Cassie said as she peeked over his shoulder.
“So noted.”
Her arms shot up behind her head and her fingers went to work on curling her hair into a complicated design. The move highlighted her firm breasts.
Cal watched, fascinated at this private female ritual. He preferred Cassie’s hair down, all soft and bouncy around her shoulders, but the ponytail had its charms, too.
“Is that your macho way of telling me to be quiet?” She smoothed a palm over her hair, taming the delicate waves.
“No.” Watching her do something so utterly feminine and mundane made his blood run white hot. “When I want quiet, I’ll say so. That was my way of saying I heard the whining.”
She stopped moving around long enough to glare at him. “I do not whine.”
“Are you kidding?”
“No.”
“Complain. Argue. Boss. Call it whatever you want, but the result is the same. Annoying.”
The color rushed back to her cheeks. “We’ll see how you’re doing after the hike.”
That lack of faith thing again. “I was in the military. Had to pass physical exams. I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, right. We’ll see how long it takes you to melt into a puddle in your commando outfit.”
The pretty woman had a point. But in keeping with his training, he worked in a contingency plan. He peeled his long-sleeve T-shirt over his head and dropped it on the ground. Down on one knee, he rummaged through the backpack in search of a lighter shirt.
“You act like I’m an Army man or something.” He chuckled at the inside military joke. When she didn’t join him, he glanced up.
Her pale face struck him. Damn. Maybe she was sicker than he thought. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” she mumbled.
Cal grabbed the closest shirt, which happened to be the only other shirt in the bag, and stood up. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
The haze clouding her eyes cleared but it took a few seconds. He followed her gaze to his bare chest, then satisfaction roared through him like wildfire. Little Miss Not Interested liked the view.
He could live with that. He could certainly torture her about it. “Enjoy what you see?”
She snorted. “Don’t fl
atter yourself.”
But Cal noticed she did not turn away or stop stealing quick peeks at his pecs. “I could keep my shirt off if you prefer.”
“Or I could strangle you with it.”
Since she suddenly looked like she was toying with the idea, he dropped the subject. Cal shrugged into the white undershirt. The fit was snug but the material would breathe better than his other shirt as the heat built throughout the day.
“Ready?” he asked.
“After you.”
He cleared his throat. “I thought you were in charge.”
“I’m delegating again.”
“Fair enough, but you’re the one who’s been here before and knows the way.”
“You saw the site from above. Besides, I can guide you just fine by letting you clear the path. If you get injured, I’ll know not to step there.”
“Very nice of you.” He pointed toward a semi-clear path. “This way.”
They had walked for about a mile, their bodies dragging in the stifling humidity, when Cal realized they were no longer alone. He grabbed Cassie’s elbow and pulled her off the rough trail he had been forging.
She squealed in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Shhh.” He motioned for her to duck down as they squatted behind a pile of brush.
“What do you hear?” She lowered her voice that time, but only a little.
“What is it with you and the confusion over the word quiet?”
Twigs crunched in the distance. The wind rustled, but Cal could make out the distinct sound of footsteps. Carefully placed footsteps.
“Stay here.” He glared at her until she nodded. He could only hope the woman would listen this time. This job of protecting someone who didn’t want to be protected got old.
In a crouch, Cal dodged past a clump of bushes and stopped behind a large rock formation until he retraced their path a short distance back up the canyon wall. His muscles clenched as he took his position and prepared to pounce.
The approaching steps grew louder but were still guarded. When the unwanted visitor stepped into the small clearing, Cal prepared to make his move. Land one punch and then ask questions. That was the plan.
He stopped in mid-flight. It was either that or knock down a DEA agent. Tempting, but not going to happen until he had a better handle on Josh Windsor’s real reason for being there.
But since Cal figured the visit was not a coincidence, he decided to have some fun. “Good morning, agent.”
Josh jumped a foot at the unexpected greeting. His hand flew to his gun. The telltale reaction of a man accustomed to danger and drawing a weapon.
“I thought I was alone out here.” Josh patted his chest in what could have been a check for a pen or a check of his heart. “And it’s afternoon.”
“I guess I lost track of time.” Cal looked around for a second plane. “And how did you get here?
“Hiked.”
Cal didn’t believe that for a second. “Uh-huh.”
Josh squinted into the sun. “You’ve been a busy man today. First the police station, now here.”
“The little woman and I are doing some hiking.”
“Little woman?”
“I hate to answer to that introduction, but I’m tired of standing in a bush.” Cassie stepped up beside Cal. “You’re a child.”
In reality Cal enjoyed making her feisty. “Yet you can’t resist me.”
“Really? Watch me.”
Josh did just that. He smiled in appreciation as his eyes conducted a quick tour of her body. “Ms. Montgomery.”
Cal reconsidered knocking the guy’s head into the ground. He could understand the agent’s reaction. When Cassie turned her wide smile on a man, he lost all common sense. Hell, her frown wasn’t half bad either.
“The DEA has business inside the canyon?” Cal asked.
“Just checking out the area.”
Like hell. “For lost drug addicts?”
“If so, you’re going to be disappointed since we seem to be the only ones here.” Cassie scooted closer.
Cal took that as a good sign. If she was silently taking sides, he was damn glad she chose his.
“And since we aren’t drug dealers or users, we’ll get out of your way,” Cal said.
They went about two steps before Josh started talking again. “You’re off the established hiking trails.”
Cassie stopped walking and forced Cal to do so, too, with a tug on his pants leg. “We prefer a tougher hike. The brochures say we’re free to explore at will.”
Josh glanced down at her sneakers. “So this doesn’t have anything to do with Dan’s accident and the site that’s right around here?”
“A simple hike.” Cal said the words in as harsh a voice as possible. It was a dare to see if the other man would pursue his questions.
Instead, Josh gave Cassie’s sneakers a second look. “Be careful. Storms move in here without warning and the wind gets dangerous.”
“I live on Oahu. I’m familiar with the weather issues in Hawaii,” Cassie said.
Cal could not help but smile. Nothing like a turf war to piss off the locals.
The agent’s frown suggested he was not impressed with the outburst. “Then you know you should think about leaving the park soon. Otherwise, you’ll get stuck sitting in here until the storm blows over.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Cassie said with a smile Cal now knew to be fake.
“You need anything, I’ll be here.” Josh walked around them and took a sharp turn to the right. After a few steps, the greenery closed in around him.
Something about the agent’s actions and demeanor made Cal’s neck itch. Something unrelated to his drooling over Cassie. The guy had a habit of being where he shouldn’t be. He popped up at the police station. Now he was out running around an isolated part of the canyon. None of it made sense.
Cassie tore her gaze away from Josh’s retreating figure. “He acts like he’s on the Kauai welcoming committee.”
“I’d prefer to read that brochure you were talking about.”
Her head snapped around at his tone. “And what’s wrong with you? Besides the obvious lack of social skills, I mean.”
“I don’t like that guy.” Certainly didn’t like the way Josh looked at Cassie. Her looking back pissed him off, too.
“He has an agenda—”
“No kidding.”
“—but he seems harmless enough.”
Women. “You think a guy who looks like him can’t be a bad guy?”
She gave him a you-need-meds look. “I think our rough flight knocked some wiring loose in your brain.”
Definitely. That was the only explanation for the surge of anger that hit him when he saw Cassie smile at the agent. He had no reason or right to be jealous. She could flirt with any man.
He would let the conversation drop…
But then something inside him wound even tighter and his mouth began spewing before his mind could catch up. “See, that’s the problem with women.”
Cassie’s eyebrow inched up. “Do tell.”
“You never know how to distinguish the good guys from the bad. Then when a guy you thought was worth something turns out to be a complete ass, you blame all men. You tag us all as abusive losers.” He shook his head in disgust. “It’s predictable.”
She leaned back against a large boulder and crossed her arms over her waist. “Any other observations you’d like to make?”
“Oh, I have more.”
“I had so hoped,” she said with an equal load of sarcasm.
“Maybe if women spent a little less time flirting…” Cal realized where that conversation would lead and stopped. “Never mind.”
He stalked back to his abandoned backpack and scooped it off the ground. The conversation had gone so far off track that he did not even know where it had started anymore.
He looked back over his shoulder at her. “You coming?”
“Depends. Are you done dispensing yo
ur misguided, macho crap advice?”
“It’s not—”
She did that toe-tapping thing again. He hated the toe-tapping thing.
She stared him down. “Look, I know you’re used to giving orders, Lieutenant Colonel Caleb Wilson. I’m cutting you some slack for that, but I have my limits.”
What the hell was he supposed to say to that? “Uh, okay.”
“But the me-Tarzan-you-my-property act needs to end.”
He could pretend not to understand her point, but he did. She wasn’t the first woman to comment on this part of his personality. He had a tendency to take charge. It came with the career. The nature of rescue required quick thinking and total command.
But he learned the importance of structure long before joining the Air Force. He grew up in a house out of control. He took over the parenting roles as to his sister when his parents were too busy waging war to do it. Once his life went in that direction, it never wavered, and that was fine with him.
“So we’re just going to stand here?” he asked.
“Depends. Are you going to continue to piss me off?”
“Probably.”
She sighed as she pushed away from the rocks. “Then we might as well go.”
“You sound so excited about the idea.”
“I can barely contain my glee.”
“Did you just use the word glee?”
She matched her pace to his. “Forget that. Tell me about this problem you have with Josh.”
“Didn’t we just go over this?”
“I have no idea what we just talked about.”
She had a point. The past few minutes were more about him wrestling with his attraction for her than about anything she did. “Josh didn’t ask any questions.”
“Meaning?”
“We’re in the middle of the canyon without a guide or any equipment, and he doesn’t ask how we got here? If we have water? Offer directions?”
“I think you’re stretching with that.” She watched her feet, hesitating before each step on the loose dirt and rocks.
“Okay, how about this? Why is a guy who tracks drug deals part of the time and spends the other part behind a desk doing paperwork out walking around in his suit in the middle of the afternoon?”
“I can see your point. And his hiking explanation is crap. No way could he handle that rough trail dressed like that, which means there’s another way in here, the liar.”
It’s Hotter in Hawaii Page 7
