Midnight Destiny

by Lakes, Lynde

  She cleared her throat. “We’re both adults.”

  His heart thudded. He leaned forward, anticipating her next words.

  “We can divide the bed in half with a broom or something. All you have to do is stay on

  your side.”

  She couldn’t have cooled his jets more if she’d thrown ice in his jeans. Her body language and soft words had led him astray. He should have known better. After all, she wasn’t someone he’d picked up in a bar. She was respectable – and engaged!

  He tried to convince himself that as much as he wanted to make love to this very desirable wahine, he wouldn’t have touched her anyway. He didn’t need the complications.

  He grabbed a folded blanket and draped it over a shoulder. “I prefer the floor. I’m a restless sleeper.” Then he forced a laugh. “And besides, a mere broom is no deterrent. I could easily climb over that.”

  Her lips curved slightly, and she shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  “You can take the first shower,” he said.

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass on that. I keep my clothes on around strangers. Especially broom-climbers.”

  He chuckled. “Well, I have no such rules. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go wash off the dirt and blood. Be a good girl and stay put while I’m showering, okay? No running off into the dark night in the middle of nowhere.” He looked at her for confirmation. She nodded, once. “Not good enough,” he said. “Promise me.”

  ****

  Mele glared at him as she crossed her heart, then took her hands behind her back. “All right, I promise,” But like a child, she hoped that the fingers she’d crossed behind her back would negate the lie. She didn’t like breaking promises.

  Apparently he believed her. Mele paced around the room, waiting to hear the sound of the shower coming on. She glanced at the front door. She could escape now and disappear into the night. Considering they were miles from help – and she had no real idea which direction to go anyway – it didn’t make sense to escape on foot. She’d be satisfied just to find a phone.

  She thought of her mother and wondered what she’d think about this situation – her daughter alone with a handsome stranger the night before her wedding. At least Mom would be more understanding than baachan; her great-grandmother wouldn’t disown her because, for the Japanese, blood was thicker than water, but she’d hang her head in shame and pray for her granddaughter’s wicked soul for the rest of her life.

  Mele’s stomach knotted. The whole family was here from Japan and the outer islands for the wedding. She would never live this down, and what’s more she deserved their scorn. It was so cowardly and irresponsible to wait until the midnight hour to speak up. Why had she let her family turn her into such a milquetoast? At work as an attorney, she was confident and assertive, never afraid to speak her mind; but at home she played the assigned submissive role that she hated so much.

  Well, she could only handle one problem at a time. The first order of business was to get to a phone.

  When she heard the force of the water hit the walls, she stooped and pulled the suitcase out from under the bed. The silver gleamed in the lamplight. She grabbed a knife from the table and tried to pop the lock. It was useless. She shoved the case back under the bed. Rick probably had the keys for it in his jeans’ pocket along with the keys to the car.

  Did he lock the bathroom door? Would he hear her if she slipped into the room and eased the keys out of his pocket? She tiptoed toward the bathroom, freezing every time the floor creaked. Quietly, she twisted the knob.

  Locked.

  Darn him. What did he think? That I’d sneak in there and shower with him?

  Sweat gathered beneath her breasts as the image came alive in her mind: nude silhouettes facing one another, slick with water as steamy heat swirled around them.

  The needle-beats of flowing water stopped. She rushed back to the bed, her heart pounding. Then quickly she ran toward the kitchen area, grabbed the broom, and raced back to the bed again. Mele climbed in and placed the broom on top of the covers next to her, just in case Rick changed his mind and joined her.

  The flicker of the kerosene lamp sent shadows skulking around the room. Although fully clothed, she considered pulling the covers up to her chin, but she was already hot. Humid air hung in the room, dampening her skin with a sticky film. Her face flamed. Had she put up enough argument about staying here? The whole situation was insane.

  How can I sleep with a stranger in the same room, maybe the same bed, and how can I sleep thinking about tomorrow? I have to do something tonight. She thought again of the keys in Rick’s pocket and the car waiting outside. Maybe after he goes to sleep.…

  ****

  Dom clawed his way back to the top of the cliff. His head throbbed and he was

  sweaty and dirty. But it was all worth it. Buttoned safely inside his shirt was the woman’s purse, registration and journal – everything he’d need to find her. He bent and released the ropes and pulleys and cast them down to the sea. He stiffened at the faint whine of sirens.

  Someone must have seen the explosion and reported it – or maybe someone missed the girl and sent the cops to look for her. He had to get the hell out of there. He jumped into the firefighter’s car, made a U-turn and drove in the opposite direction of the sirens.

  ****

  Mele’s heartbeat raced. When Rick emerged from his shower, droplets of water clung to the glossy black ringlets that had fallen onto his forehead. He was barefoot, and that tanned, well-muscled chest was bare except for a dusting of curly dark hair, but he’d had the decency to put his jeans on. He opened a window and took a deep breath of the cool night air. Watching his back expand with each breath sent tingles rippling through her. The gun tucked snugly into the back of his waistband didn’t kill her desire.

  She didn’t recognize this side of her nature, and it both frightened and excited her. She’d always thought of herself as sensible, grounded. What if she didn’t know herself at all?

  He moved across the room silently like a shadow and lowered the flame in the lamp.

  After a moment, he came close to the bed and stared down at her. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

  She remained silent, hoping the chirping crickets outside would drown out the sound of her thudding heart. He shook his head and sprayed water droplets all over her.

  Mele ducked beneath the sheet. “I was,” she lied, “until you shook water all over me like a wet dog.” When the opposite side of the bed gave with Rick’s weight, Mele threw the sheet off her head and sat up. She blinked. He was all stretched out, hands behind his head, chest broad and inviting. “What changed your mind?” she asked nervously, her voice little more than a croak.

  “I’m too tired and sore to broom-climb. So you’re safe. And you don’t have to tell your fiancé that we slept in the same bed. Or do you tell him everything?”

  She saw no need to answer that, and for safety’s sake she wouldn’t tell Rick that tomorrow she would definitely break off the engagement. She sighed. The bed issue was only a problem because she was attracted to Rick.

  She stiffened, feeling edgy and on guard. Against him. Against herself. She changed positions several times, trying to get comfortable. The bed gave and creaked as Rick did the same.

  She had to give him credit – he stayed well on his side of the broom, establishing a safe distance. But was any distance really safe with all this electricity shooting between them?

  “When I saw Dom’s knife aiming for your heart,” Rick said, “I wanted to kill him. But once he was down, it was all about survival.”

  Mele pretended to be asleep. She didn’t want intimate bed-talk with a man whose voice was so deep, so arousing. When he turned over, she sighed in relief.

  At the crackle of leaves and dried brush outside the open window, her gaze darted toward the sound. Had Dom somehow found them? She sprang to a sitting position, then froze with fear as a ghostly mist paused and hovered above the sill. It floated into the
room, cooling and stirring the air. The low flame of the lamp flickered and went out, leaving the room a pit of blackness. An icy breeze touched her face; it felt solid, stiff, like dead fingers.

  She screamed.

  ****

  Rick shot upright and grabbed under the pillow for his gun. “What is it?” he whispered. “I can’t see a damned thing!”

  “She was here – in the room with us.” He heard Mele’s voice quaver.

  “She?” He squinted, trying to make out forms, movement. His body went rigid, ready to fight – to protect.

  “The ghost. Akua Lapu.”

  “That again?” Rick shook his head. He would have laughed at her fear except she was trembling so hard that the bed vibrated. Real or make-believe, something had scared her. “Is she still in here?” With effort he kept the skepticism out of his voice.

  “I don’t know. It was horrible. Icy fingers on my face.”

  Rick tucked the gun back under the pillow and re-lit the lamp, adjusting the flame to low.

  “No doubt it was just the wind.” He closed the window and climbed back into bed.

  Mele trembled like a frightened kitten. He moved the broom aside and drew her into his arms. She didn’t protest. He stroked her hair until the tremors stopped. “You’re safe,” he said several times – for her benefit and also to remind himself that this was a caring gesture, not a seduction. She cuddled closer, fitting perfectly in his arms.

  He kissed the top of her head. Having her against his chest felt so right, like coming home, only not to any home he’d ever had before. In spite of his good intentions, his groin heated and stiffened into full salute.

  It was going to be a long night.

  After a while, he realized to his surprise that holding her was enough. Almost. Providing comfort to her gave him contentment totally new to him. He’d never experienced a caring this strong, even in the beginning with his ex-wife.

  He was in big trouble. While sassy and spirited, Mele was a beacon of kindness that drew him like a ship lost at sea. But she was someone else’s woman – not his! He hoped the guy was good enough for her. Rick knew Rick Laro, FBI man, wasn’t.

  His arm grew numb from holding her. Not wanting to disturb Mele, he remained still. Rick wished he could sleep. He needed a clear head for tomorrow – to come up with a plan.

  ****

  Mele lay motionless, feeling like a fool. She’d been manipulated, pure and simple. Akua Lapu had scared her into Rick’s strong arms.

  Still, as much as Mele hated the trickery, she didn’t want to move away from the freshly-showered scent of this man or from the light kisses he rained in her hair. His arousal pulsed once against her thigh, but he’d immediately shifted away; he hadn’t touched her in any manner that wasn’t sweet and caring. While attracted to the rugged side of him, she would never have guessed that his gentle side was just as seductive.

  She longed to draw his lips down to hers and test the waters, see if his kisses were as terrific as he looked. But as wonderful as his body felt against hers, as much as she wanted to kiss him, she already had enough guilt. Until she ended it with Geoffrey, she had no business acting on her desire for another man, no business exploring the possibility of there being more between them.

  Hours later, with early sunlight bouncing off the walls, it stunned Mele to awaken still in Rick’s arms. His soft breathing convinced her they both had slept. With all the pent-up desire between them, she would’ve bet against it. It proved how wrong she could be. He’d made her feel so safe and cared for that she must have finally dropped off.

  This was a first for her. She’d never spent the night in a man’s arms before. She’d never had that kind of relationship with Geoffrey. They were both saving themselves for marriage – although lately she’d begun to wonder if Geoffrey really was. Now she realized why she really hadn’t cared that he’d started taking his secretary out for long lunches. Her subconscious had told her that she and Geoffrey were friends but nothing more – friends forced into this marriage by parents who didn’t have a clue as to their real feelings.

  But how could they? She hadn’t known herself until yesterday.

  Mele slipped gently out of Rick’s arms and with her newfound trust for this man, she headed for the shower. She had no worry that if she undressed he would bother her. In fact, if she’d already contacted Geoffrey and broken off the engagement, she might have encouraged a little bothering.

  Fifteen minutes later, she came out of the shower fully dressed. No sense tempting fate. The aroma of coffee and bacon wafted in the air. She could hardly wait to tell Rick the plan she’d come up with while showering.

  ****

  As the scent of fresh shampoo hit his nostrils, Rick looked up. Mele’s hair, still wet from the shower, was a glistening mop of waves. She wore the same wrinkled red outfit from yesterday. He’d imagined all sorts of scenarios for her entrance: nude with only a towel wrapped around her, nude wearing only the shirt he’d left on the hook, nude….

  “Rick, I have an idea to get Bethy back safely.”

  With a spatula, Rick lifted the bacon out of the pan and transferred it to a paper towel to drain. He wiped out the pan and dumped in the scrambled eggs. “Thanks, but this is out of your league.” Rick recalled his ex-wife’s inborn helplessness. He’d always been the one in control, and he liked it that way. Vibes from Mele revealed to him that she liked to be in control, too.

  Well, neither of them were in control now, and how they handled their runaway lives would be a real test. Would they pass or fail?

  Mele’s eyes flashed. She crossed the room like a hurricane and grabbed his arm. “Hey, don’t dismiss me like that! Not without hearing what I have to say.”

  He laughed. “You’re right. I’m being a chauvinistic jerk.” She couldn’t help with the problem, but he was beginning to learn that it was so like her to try. “Okay. What’s your idea?”

  “I know you don’t believe in Akua Lapu.”

  He gave the eggs another stir then divided them onto two plates. “Come on, Mele. You’re starting to sound like a broken record on that subject.”

  “Listen to me, damn it! I think our ghost brought us together to help each other.”

  Her earnest expression stopped him from any further protest, and he slouched into one of the chairs. Managing to keep a straight face, he said, “I’m listening.”

  “First of all, we do what’s right and return the documents to the proper governmental authorities.”

  Not while kidnappers still hold my daughter! “How did I get mixed up with a Girl Scout when I need Mata Hari?”

  She smiled. “I know someone who can help us. A lawyer I’ve worked with and trust. Retired naval intelligence. He’s a document specialist and a whiz at doctoring up fakes to look like the real thing. We offer the phony papers to the Iraqi group – what were they called?”

  “The ILAQ.” He couldn’t believe he was encouraging her.

  “Anyway, by the time they figure out what’s happened, we’ll have Bethy back and can disappear in some kind of witness protection program.”

  “Witness protection?” He laughed and shook his head. It wasn’t even an option in this case, but her enthusiasm touched him; and he kept playing along. “You’d go into a program with me?” Rick didn’t get it. For some mysterious reason, this honest, determined woman had stepped into his corner. Having someone stand staunchly at his side was a first.

  Pushing aside good judgment, he drew her into his arms and gently touched his lips to hers. She blinked as though stunned, then slid her arms around his neck. Mele opened her mouth to him. One taste of her warm sweetness, and he knew that every beat of his heart since birth had brought him to this instant, to this woman.

  Was there something to this Akua Lapu craziness after all? He could suspend disbelief if it would get his daughter back. He slid his hands down the curve of Mele’s spine. They’d only met last night, yet her kiss and touch felt as natural and right as breathing. Wh
at was he doing? This bundle of sweetness was engaged! He abruptly ended the kiss, held her away and cleared his throat.

  “This lawyer friend of yours…can he be trusted?”

  “If we’re honest with him.”

  Rick frowned and shook his head. “You know this guy. I don’t.”

  “I understand your hesitancy. Openness with strangers probably goes against your training and experience. But with your daughter’s life at stake, I wouldn’t lead you astray.”

  ****

  After a shower in his hotel room, Dom glanced in the mirror. His face was a mess. He had to do something to lessen the concern strangers might have when they saw his bruised, swollen face. He applied makeup, which he kept handy to disguise himself. Then he shoved Mele’s address book, credit cards and other personal things into a briefcase he’d found in the fireman’s car, and began his visits to the people Mele would most likely contact. Posing as FBI agent Nathan Jones, he started with Geoffrey Akagi.

  “Mele’s been kidnapped,” he told the distraught groom-to-be.

  “I know,” Geoffrey said, “the police already contacted me around dawn this morning.

  Dom smiled. This was just too easy.

  ****

  Rick clenched his teeth. Everything in him rebelled at bringing Mele’s lawyer friend into this, but he hadn’t come up with a better plan. Her directions took them past the Aloha Tower and the piers along Nimitz Highway. The sun glistened off clear turquoise-blue water. Clusters of ship masts brought a lump to his throat. The ILAQ group held his daughter on a boat somewhere out beyond the rolling white caps. He should rent a boat and go searching, not talk to some guy who might turn him over to the authorities.

  He stiffened as he pulled into the dimly lit parking garage under the high-rise office building. He had no choice but to go in once he’d passed the metal teeth that prohibited backing out. He passed open parking spaces. Mele pointed out one right by the elevators. He kept going, heading back to the exit.