Iris Johansen - Dark Rider

Don't think about it. Just do what has to be done.

She drew a deep breath and moved quickly toward the armoire across the room.

"What an enchanting surprise," Jared murmured as he and Bradford pushed back their chairs and rose to their feet. "To what providence do we owe the grace of your presence?"

"I was hungry." Cassie strode brusquely onto the veranda. "You keep forgetting this is my home. Why shouldn't I come to supper?"

"You're also joining us for supper? Extraordinary."

This was neither the girl on the beach nor the defiant waif he had confronted in the bedroom, Jared thought with dissatisfaction. She still looked a mere child, but now everything about her was tight and confined. She wore a high-necked gray silk gown that fell straight to the floor, hiding any hint of a possible curve. Her dark-brown hair, scraped back from her face and captured in a bun on top of her head, looked too heavy a burden for that slim neck. Jared had a sudden desire to take out the pins and let her hair flow free, as it had that night on the beach.

"Not at all unusual, Jared. She's quite right," Bradford said as he moved swiftly to escort Cassie to a chair. "But as he said, a lovely surprise. We thought that your injury would keep you to your room. Please sit down."

She shook her head. "I came only to tell you that I refuse to hide in my room like a culprit."

"Sit down anyway. You must conserve your strength." Bradford smiled. "May I get you a glass of wine?"

"No." She sat down and perched on the edge of the chair, her back rigid. "And I don't need to conserve my strength. I'm much better now."

"I can see you are," Bradford said warmly. "You have a lovely color in your cheeks."

Jared watched the color deepen. Bradford was right: her cheeks were flushed and her dark eyes shone brilliantly, almost feverishly. She clearly wasn't as well as she claimed. Why the devil hadn't she stayed in her room and rested?

"You're the uncle?" she asked.

Bradford nodded. "Forgive me. I feel as if I already know you after that trip down the mountain. I'm Bradford Tyndale Danemount."

She studied him. "I remember you… I think."

"I consider that very promising." He slanted a glance at Jared. "You see, even out of their senses, women find me unforgettable."

"They would have to be out of their senses," Jared said.

Bradford flinched. "What a cruel blow." He turned to Cassie. "You can see how afflicted I am. I raise the lad from boyhood, and he gives me nothing but insult. Are we also to be honored by the presence of the beautiful lady I met at the stables? Lani…" He looked at her inquiringly.

"Her name is Lani Kalnarai. And, of course, she'll be here. What a stupid thing to ask. She belongs here, too."

"So she told us."

"Do you doubt it?" she asked, bristling. "Do you think because she's not married to my father that he honors her any less? Lani is stronger and kinder and more clever than any woman you've ever met. She may have been raised an islander, but that doesn't mean she's ignorant of your ways. She's always reading and learning and is probably better educated than either of you."

"I didn't mean-"

"It's not the custom in England to house a mistress in the same domicile as a man's daughter," Jared interrupted. He met her gaze. "And it's also not the custom in France."

"That means nothing. We're no longer in France."

"Your father is a Frenchman. If he holds the woman in as much honor as you obviously do, then he would have wed her."

She glared at him. "Does that mean you don't want to see Lani at the table? Well, I will not-"

"I didn't say that," Jared said. "This is your home and we are your guests." He sat back down and reached for his glass of brandy. "I was merely defending my uncle, as you were defending your friend. He meant no insult, but you're clearly used to jumping to your Lani's defense. I wonder why…" He glanced speculatively at the doorway. "Your housekeeper?"

She stiffened. "Has Clara been telling you lies about her?"

"I'm not on such intimate terms with the lady. Does Miss Kidman usually tell lies?"

At first he didn't think she would answer, but then she said curtly, "She hates Lani."

"She doesn't appear to be on good terms with most of the world."

"Lani says that Clara finds you most agreeable," she said bitterly. "It didn't surprise me."

"Since we're two such detestable creatures?"

"Yes."

"Then why have you chosen to dine with me? Unpleasant company is certainly not good for the digestion."

The words seemed to disturb her. He could see the leap of her pulse in the delicate hollow of her throat. "This is my home."

"Why?" he repeated.

She met his gaze. "I gain nothing by avoiding you."

"Ah, then this is an exploratory foray?"

"Call it whatever you like."

"Or perhaps you wished to persuade me to abandon my plans for your father."

Her eyes widened. "Don't be ridiculous. How would I do that?"

Her surprise was genuine and free of coyness. She knew nothing about the sensual games women of his world played. He felt a flicker of annoyance, and he realized he had wanted her to display that familiar coquetry. It would have given him reason to indulge in the same game. No, not reason, he amended in disgust. An excuse. "It was only a thought."

"A very stupid one," she said bluntly.

Bradford chuckled. "Yes, where is your perception, Jared?"

Jared ignored the gibe. "Why did you say your name was Kanoa?"

"It is my name. Lani gave it to me when she came here. She said that since we were to be sisters, she wanted me to have a Hawaiian name."

"That's not what I mean. You knew I thought you Hawaiian."

"Why should I correct your mistakes if you jump to foolish conclusions?" She lifted her chin. "Besides, I am Hawaiian even if I'm not an islander. I belong here and I should have an island name."

"Do you? I've noticed your friend Lani seldom uses it."

Color flushed her cheeks. "There are certain difficulties here. Clara can be- I don't have to make explanations to you."

"I take it you have no desire to return to France?" Bradford interceded quickly.

"What is there for me?" she said simply. "Here I have everything."

"Including a very fine piece of horseflesh," Bradford said. "You wouldn't care to sell him?"

"Never." She added, "And certainly not to you."

"I didn't think you would, but I had to try. Magnificent animal." He lifted his glass. "And it would have been a great coup to own the horse that dumped Jared into a sand dune."

A tiny smile tugged at her lips. "I admit I value him all the more for his good judgment."

"You should. Jared hasn't been thrown since he was-"

"What are you going to do with the stallion?" Jared interrupted. "Keep him as a pet to ride around your beautiful island?"

She stiffened at the faint sarcasm beneath the silkiness of his tone. "If I choose. Why not?"

"Because it's a damnable waste. A horse that fine should be put to stud and sire horses equally splendid."

"I do intend to breed him. I'm going to have a horse farm on the other side of the island."

"You have a mare?"

"Not yet. I haven't found one suitable."

"And I doubt if you will on this island."

She glared at him. "I found Kapu."

"One chance in a thousand."

"Fate," Bradford murmured. "It appears that destiny has a special fondness for this place."

"Not enough to provide a fit consort for the stallion," Jared said. "And do you have enough money to buy her if you do find her?"

"I will find a way to get her."

"You won't find a mare by playing in the sand and dreaming about it," he said tauntingly.

"What makes you think that's all I do?" Her hands clenched the arm of her chair. "You know nothing about me."