by Angel Payne
“I think he’s sleeping.”
Her gentle tone caused visible surprise in Sergeant Rush. She shared his curiosity. How had her anger turned to tenderness so fast?
Don’t go there, Hokulani. Don’t even start.
But she’d already done so, hadn’t she? It didn’t take thousands in psychotherapy bills to figure out why. She’d felt out of control for so long. She’d been out of control. She was not and never would be a victim, but Gunter’s scheming with Hales Anelas was becoming harder to fight. Now, blood had been spilled because of her resistance to the man. Gods be thanked that nobody’s injuries were lethal, but in those moments after Gunter’s men had swarmed over Bommer like a pack of pissed-off apes, she hadn’t been so certain. Her screams had been shrill with real terror.
But this moment gave her some empowerment again. This stranger, so impossibly foolish and lost, gave her a moment of importance. Even if he was obliterated and had her confused for someone named Luna, she’d finally done something productive in this world again.
“I think you’re right.” The soft concurrence came from the gray-eyed man in the doorway. Correction: gray-eyed hunk. Aue ka nani. Such beauty. Sergeant Kellan Rush really was a magnificently-made man. His shoulders, chest, and torso gleamed like wild honey spread over a marble statue. The shorts did little to hide the matching muscles of his long legs, which were dusted with more of his dark hair. He affected her in raw, animal kinds of ways. Her skin tingled, her heartbeat sped…and her sex thrummed in demand. She swallowed to hide her reaction, lucking out on the timing. Rush sighed heavily at the same time. “Sleeping is good,” he stated. “That’ll make it easier to hump him back over to Franz’s place.”
“What? The hell you will.” She balanced the ice so it would stay on Bommer’s forehead before rising to square off against Rush. “We’ll put him in the back seat of my jeep, and I’ll drive you two back over. It may be a bit bumpy, but I don’t think he’ll notice.”
“Out of the question.” He folded his beautifully-muscled arms. “That’d leave you to drive back here on that two-lane thing that barely calls itself a road. I wouldn’t put it past Gunter to be parked somewhere nearby, figuring we’ll have exactly this conversation, waiting for you to cruise back here by yourself. With his boys already whiffing blood, the man won’t toss aside that kind of an opportunity.”
No matter how deeply the words seared into her as the terrifying truth, Lani defaulted to her usual reaction: completely faked defiance. “He wouldn’t try anything with Leo around.”
Once more the man barely moved, though his pewter gaze drilled into her. “Yes. Leo. The one who’s expecting to find you here in one piece when he returns from fencing practice.”
She sprinkled the bravado with sarcasm. “You were listening in class, Sergeant.”
“That’s my job, Miss Kail.” He intensified his scrutiny, almost sending a vibe of discomfort, but Lani wrote off her perception as silly. These guys worked for Johnny Franzen, who barely suffered fools in his civilian life, let alone what he demanded of his Spec Ops team. Despite how Bommer had pulled the jackass move of the decade, Franz wouldn’t have turned over the keys to his place to any half-brained joes. Not that Rush helped correct her perception, with his semi-stammered follow-up. “So…Leo? He’s—errmm—your son?”
“My brother.” She smiled, not seeing any point in prolonging the man’s stress. “I was my parents’ college surprise and he was their ten-year anniversary gift.” She pressed her lips a little tighter to keep the smile fixed, despite the hit of sorrow that came—as it always did. “The age spread turned out to be a good thing, though. Mom and Dad died together two years ago, but I was twenty-three, old enough to file for legal guardianship of Leo. He’s fifteen now and surpassed me on height about four months back. But inside, he’s still processing the loss in a shitload of ways.”
He tilted his head a little. “And you’re not?”
“In my own way, each and every day,” she countered. “Only I’m not doing it with a teenage boy’s hormones screaming through my veins.”
“You get the win on that one, too.”
She joined him in his good-natured chuckle but cut hers short when she sensed he had more to say. “What?” she prodded.
The man stunned her by shifting from his position in the doorway. She wasn’t sure whether to be unnerved or thrilled by the way he moved toward her across the wood floor, every step quiet but deliberate, until he stood only two feet away.
Lani’s breath snagged. She lifted her gaze to meet his. In this softer light, his gray eyes resembled sea foam in a storm. Apt comparison, considering what his nearness did to every vital organ in her body.
He took a step closer. “What happened?” His voice was a murmur between them alone. “To your parents?”
His interest, issued with somber sincerity, touched her. “My Mom and Dad did a lot of volunteer guidance work with at-risk teens on the island. One of the kids they’d been working with snuck away for a Saturday night rave in Honolulu with some college boys, and got himself arrested for possession. My parents insisted on flying over to post his bail. There was a pilot with a bird parked on this side of the island—”
“At the strip at the Barking Sands missile base?” he interjected.
Lani nodded. “He’d just dropped a couple of guys at the base as a favor to the base’s CO. There was a storm coming in pretty hard and fast, but my parents begged him for the ride. The kid in Honolulu had anger issues, to the point that he took meds to keep it all in check. He’d been off the meds for nearly twenty-four hours, and—” A rock of grief stopped her from speaking for a moment. The next moment, she gulped it down. “They finally got clearance to take off, and…the pilot lost control.” She tilted her head the direction of the shore. “We heard the bird go down from here. By the time Leo and I got to the beach, all we could see was wreckage. That’s all they found, as well.”
“Fuck.” His mutter was vicious but oddly comforting. He finished it by lifting a hand to her arm, wrapping firm, long fingers just above her elbow. Though he gripped her lightly, instant heat spread through her from the contact…and something more. So much more. A release yet a tension. A surrender yet a power. A piercing consciousness of all this man’s strength, yet every shred of his vulnerability. “That’s rough.” Coming from him, the words weren’t empty. His empathy was thick in every syllable. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
She curved a little smile, trying to convey she meant it, too. The look froze on her face as her gaze tangled with his again. His fingers tightened on her skin.
Gods, she was in trouble.
His fingers spread over her arm in a boggling mix of pressure. Sweet concern…curious question…sensual searching. Every corner of her body responded to all of it, especially her most tender core. If her clit had just been dropping hints before, it clicked to full demand mode now. She wondered if he’d use the hold to pull her closer—and knew if he did, she wouldn’t resist. It had been a long, long time since male body contact meant anything besides Leo and his bear hugs. The abstinence took its revenge on her body now in hot, ravenous ways…
Suddenly, Rush pulled back like she really had caught fire. At the same time, a hard shell clamped back over his features. She recognized the expression all too well, having seen it on Franz’s face before. A soldier clicking into protective mode. She turned and straightened pillows on the easy chairs in an effort to loosen the tension squeezing the air. But damn it, the man didn’t help. The weight of his stare, following every move she made, assured that every nerve ending in her system remained on high alert.
“So what about the dickwad?” he finally asked.
She froze, gripping a pillow. “Excuse me?”
“Benson.”
“Oh.” She dropped the pillow and laughed. “That dickwad.”
He returned to propping up a doorway, this time the portal that connected the living and dining rooms. “I take it he’s a de
veloper of some kind. But you said several other properties are openly up for sale. Why does he want this place so badly for his project?”
Like Franz, the guy didn’t miss much. “He’s not disclosed that for certain.” She let half a smile play at her lips. “But I have a few theories.”
“Like?”
She let another thick moment pass by. Rush kept his features neutral, careful. Maybe he thought she’d brandish the Bowie at him again. The thought made her chuckle, to which he reacted with a curious smirk. The moonlight sifted in through the dining room’s big window, highlighting his mouth. He had such fascinating lips. The top one was nearly bisected by the deep dip in its center. The lower was an elegant sweep of flesh, set against his nearly square jaw. Aue. Mouths like that belonged on pirates, rakes, and highwaymen, the kind of men who dragged women off to the bushes so nobody could hear them being ravaged and pleasured…
Which should have been the thought that lowered her hand instead of raising it back toward Rush.
Which should have stopped her from stepping over and curling her fingers around his.
Which should have cut out her tongue before she could return his smile and say, “It’s best shown instead of told.”
Rush dipped his head toward her. “Why does that sound like a challenge?”
“Why do you sound excited that it might be?”
“I’m the long-range shooting specialist for our team, Miss Kail. Just the word ‘challenge’ gives me a hard—” He interrupted himself with a choke and a grimace pulled from the nice-going-you-dumbshit file. “Umm, a—a hard time saying no.”
She giggled while sliding into her light running jacket, then nodding toward the couch. “How long do you think the lion will sleep tonight?”
He shrugged. “Tough to say. Up until a month ago, back-to-back deployments kept me from seeing him for a while. He was on extended leave, riding a desk job back at our base in Tacoma—but I have a feeling he was riding the hooch pretty hard, too.” His face clouded over, making it clear he didn’t want to share further details. “He’ll be out for a while, but I don’t want to leave him alone for too long.” He cocked a quizzing brow. “How far away is this ‘challenge,’ lady?”
Thank the gods he injected the humor again. That made it simpler to mask how he captivated her more as the minutes passed. The man already had the muster and character to be a part of John’s battalion. He was also fierce with the fight club moves when it mattered, listened with compassion, and openly cared about his shitfaced teammate. If he knew how to select good chocolate and could navigate a tool box, as well, she might be a goner. And that was not good.
“It’s not far,” she clarified. “But it’s nighttime and we’re both barefoot, so I’ll guide you slowly.”
“Deal.” As he tagged a grin to the agreement, deep dimples appeared against his jaw. Damn it. Even if he wasn’t into chocolate and tools, she might be lost.
He followed her through the kitchen and the den. When they hit the back lanai, she grabbed a flashlight and handed him one, too. Once they stepped outside, she led him past the work shed where Leo’s surfboard collection hung, where he gave the requisite male reaction of bugged eyes, plummeted jaw, and invisible drool. She took advantage of his distraction to open the gate on the other side, which led to the bottom of the stone steps that went nearly vertical up the hillside beyond. There were exactly a hundred and fifty-three of them, and Lani had been climbing them since she could walk. With the confidence stemming from that knowledge, she called, “Last one up mucks the barn tomorrow, soldier.”
“Huh? What barn?”
She only answered with a gloating cackle, hitting her stride at step fifteen before she heard him land on number one. Another witchy-poo laugh trailed out. She so had this.
Or so she thought.
Things changed once she neared the hundred-step point.
She still had plenty of juice to get to the top, but as soon as they crossed the point where the end of the climb was in sight, she fast learned that Rush had more stamina left to burn. A lot more. After five more steps, his flashlight beam hit her ankles. After another ten, he passed like she’d simply stopped. Lani poured on her best effort, only to watch his gorgeous thighs and ass disappear into the darkness. At the same time, he serenaded her with Carry On. Loudly. And on key.
“Showoff,” she muttered, vowing to keep the glower on her face as she reached the top, no matter how rousing his song—which the adorable dork continued as she trudged her final steps.
“If you’re lost and alone, or you’re sinking like a stone, carry o-o-o-on—”
“Shut. Up.”
“May your past be the sound, of your feet upon the ground, carry—”
She clapped a hand over his mouth. “Come and ‘carry on’ this way, Sergeant.”
His snicker warmed her hand before she pulled away and led him up another small knoll. He stopped singing in favor of a soft exclamation. “Whoa.”
She took her turn to wield a cocky smirk. His reaction wasn’t new. Most visitors said something in that vein when they realized a hundred and fifty-three steps had just transported them from a tropical paradise to a landscape that belonged in the middle of a Celtic moor. The marketing gurus for the island liked to tell people there was a “terrain for everyone” here, and it wasn’t an empty line. There had been a lot of rain this year, as well, so the grass was a cool cushion as she led him farther out on the cliff. She couldn’t wait to hear his reaction once she got him to the perfect spot…
“Holy. Fuck.”
Right on cue.
Lani remained quiet as he took it in. The experience of seeing her island through a visitor’s eyes never got old, but this occasion felt more special than the others. Maybe because he wasn’t any usual visitor.
The man’s profile, beautiful as an etching on a Roman coin, entranced her as he took in the panorama. The mansion, slightly to their left, seemed tiny as a doll’s abode in the moonlight. She was pleased with how she’d trained the hibiscus to grow up the lanai supports; in another week, the pink and yellow blooms would be spectacular. Past the small fountain beneath the hala and banana trees at the rear of the house were the rose garden and orchard, which were separated from the meadows by the barn and two small riding rings. At this time of night, a few horses cantered across the grass, but most grazed leisurely beneath the banyan trees, enjoying the cool air. The two long sides of the meadow were bordered by forests. The trees on the far side extended all the way to the Franzen’s property line. The bamboo and palms situated more closely were part of the covering for the walkway she’d marched he and Bommer on at knifepoint.
A flush burned across her face. Thank the gods for the darkness, so he couldn’t witness her mortification at remembering how she’d treated the two of them like criminals. She betrayed herself the next moment anyway, softly chuffing at herself.
Rush flung his stare back at her. “Yeah, yeah; go ahead and laugh. Guess you showed up my nervy ass.”
“No. That’s not—” She interrupted herself with a sharper snort. “I just thought about my unique ‘welcome’ to you and Sergeant Bommer. And was being just a little mortified by it.”
He laughed and swept a hand around them. “I’ll count this as a really great way of making up. Besides, if I had someone trying to squeeze me out from all of this, I’d be a tad territorial, as well.”
She peeked back up at him, and couldn’t help but giggle once more. She knew what he wanted to convey, but somewhere during his statement, his gaze drifted back to her—and locked there. She wasn’t sure she wanted that to change, either. She’d never been the center of a man’s attention quite like this. Unblinking. Intense. Heated.
And very, very “territorial.”
Her legs started threats of turning to mush, so she turned and found a soft patch of grass to sit on. As Rush lowered next to her, she expounded, “Gunter wants to transform the house into the resort’s lobby, as well as offices for his entire comp
any. The garden and orchard would stay, though they’ll take out part of them for a property spa. Where we’re sitting will be a cement slab, so they can install a wedding garden.” She extended a hand to back up her explanation by pointing at the various landmarks. “Surprisingly, Benstock wants to keep the zip line to the beach. They think it’s a cool idea to have brides and grooms take a ‘ride to the sand’ after they say their vows.”
He dipped his head and smirked. “Appropriate symbolism.” After enduring her rib jab of chastisement, he jerked his chin toward the barn and stables. “What about all of that?”
“They’ll be gutted and transformed into a five-star restaurant. A newer stable will be built on the far side of the property, for tending the horses they do plan on keeping.”
“The fifteen who are strong enough to carry fat tourists.”
She almost poked him in the ribs again, but opted for a smiling shoulder bump. “There’s my good listener.”
He returned the nudge. The move, while friendly, sent tingles down the entire left side of her body. She was almost thankful for the distraction of his reply, which was tight with tension. “I assume the dickwad is selling the other horses off to make all that land available for building a swagalicious hotel?”
“Close. Swagalicious time share condos. Except for the biggest unit, which he’s already claimed for himself.”
A violent sound rumbled from deep inside his chest. He still clutched his flashlight with his far hand, now glowering like he wanted to bash in a skull with it. Lani endured a little tremble. The comparison wasn’t an empty one when applied to a six-foot-plus Special Forces warrior. The realization made her a little scared…and a lot aroused. The man didn’t help things one bit by starting up his stare, the entrancing and territorial version, once more.
