Lindsay McKenna - Hunter's Pride

Suddenly, his trip to Kauai wasn’t looking so bad, after all. Kulani Dawson was worth the flight and then some, in his opinion. His own mouth curved recklessly. From a purely male standpoint, she was worth chasing, capturing and hotly loving. As she came to a halt before the group, her smile warm and engaging, Dev automatically stepped forward to be in the sunlight of her presence, as did the rest of the eager passengers, who crowded into a tight semicircle around her.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I’m Kulani Dawson, your pilot.” She turned and gestured gracefully toward the helicopter. “I hope to give you a magical tour around the island I was born on. This is our ‘steed’ for today’s ride. Let me check the manifest here and get to know you a little before we are whisked away on our rainbow journey.”

His skin prickled pleasantly. Kulani had a low alto voice that reminded him of honey—honey trickling moltenly across his flesh, making him want to reach out and slide his fingers along the slope of her cheekbone. She wore absolutely no makeup, but with her natural beauty, Dev felt it suited her not to. Her movements were unhurried and always graceful, her eyes engaging with whomever she spoke as she went through the names on the roster she held. His heart began picking up in beat as she reached his name, the last on the list.

“Mr. Jack Carson?”

“Roger that,” he said with a grin. Unaccountably, he felt like an awkward teenage boy. His palms grew sweaty in anticipation. Because Kulani had worked for Perseus at one time, he didn’t dare use his real name. If she got wind that he was a Perseus merc, she might balk at giving him any background information. Morgan had warned that she had cut herself off from her former life. And because of that, using an alias was Dev’s only option. He didn’t like doing it, but he had no other choice at this point.

Kulani felt her heart gallop unexpectedly at the reckless, little-boy smile the tall man at the back gave her. Her intuition niggled at her. He was out of place here. He looked like a tourist, but the way he stood, tall and erect, his knees slightly flexed beneath the navy blue Dockers he wore, said differently. Assessing him keenly, Kulani moved past his warm, devastating smile. His hair was cut military short and he stood like a boxer ready to make a lightning-quick move. Her senses had rarely been wrong. Even though he wore the loud red Hawaiian tourist shirt, he was no vacationer to her island, a voice told her.

Looking down at the manifest, she asked, “How much do you weigh, Mr. Carson?”

He chuckled and placed his hands on his hips. “How much do I have to weigh in order to sit next to you?” Dev knew that the people who weighed the least sat up in the two front seats with the pilot. He knew he’d never get such an opportunity, but wanted to let her know he liked her. But though he’d thought she’d find his reply funny, because the rest of the group chortled over it, he saw her brows dip.

“You could be the weight of a sparrow and you still wouldn’t get a front seat, Mr. Carson.” Kulani’s heart was beating a little harder now. Damn, she couldn’t see his eyes behind those very dark sunglasses. That bothered her. Already the day had been long and harrowing. Emotionally, she was raw and simply wanted to go home, take a hot bath and be alone. This man, whoever he was, unsettled her for no discernible reason. Kulani admitted he was drop-dead handsome. Not in a pretty-boy way, though—not with his darkly tanned face weathered by life, and the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. Deep dimples flashed whenever he gave her that heated, teasing smile. Really, there was nothing to dislike about him. She could see a lot of scars and nicks on his large hands, the muscles of his arms confirmed his terrific athletic condition. There was no fat on this man—at all.

“How about a canary?” he replied with a grin.

Again the group laughed heartily, glancing back and forth between the pilot and Dev.

“How about no?” Kulani said sweetly. She smiled despite how she was feeling. Who could resist this man? Her heart certainly couldn’t.

“I’m crushed, Ms. Dawson. Here I was told you were the closest thing on the islands to Amelia Earhart.” He held up his camera in jest. “I was hoping for a photo of you standing next to your bird.”

She regarded him seriously. “Bird” was a military term. Was this guy in the military? A spook? CIA? He was something, that was for sure. So why did she feel bothered by it? She had nothing to hide. And then she recalled Morgan’s mission and stiffened internally. Maybe the other intelligence agencies knew about the mission, too. But why would someone like him be here? She’d told Morgan no. She shook her head. None of it made sense.

“Sorry, Mr. Carson. I’ll be happy to take a photo of you and my bird after the flight, but that’s it.”

Dev felt a little guilty as he saw her eyes darken with censure over his pushiness. Looking more closely at her, he saw the beginning of shadows beneath her eyes. And there was strain around her tender, soft-looking mouth. The urge to reach forward, slide his hand across her slumping shoulders, almost undid him. Normally he wasn’t that eager to run to the aid of a woman he didn’t really know. Maybe it was that photo of her dancing that made him bolder than usual.

He nodded deferentially to her. “I’m in your capable hands, Ms. Dawson. You are more than worth the price of admission.”

Kulani tried to ignore the handsome stranger’s teasing. He certainly thought a lot of himself. Still, that engaging smile of his touched her deeply and she couldn’t shake the warmth in his voice as it blanketed her, making her feel just a tad better than before. “You will be the last to get in, Mr. Carson. I’m giving you the rear right window seat.”

Dev realized that was the most prized position in the rear of the aircraft. The flight over the island would entail all right turns, and the window was large enough so that a passenger with a camera could take some breathtaking photographs. Dev waited patiently as she stood at the door and ushered each passenger inside. When his turn came, he gave her another glorious smile.

“I think I’m in heaven. No, I take that back. Heaven is standing right in front of me.”

Kulani felt his larger-than-life presence as he brushed past her and climbed into the aircraft. “Heaven begins when we lift off, Mr. Carson.” She smiled a little. What a ham he was. He was playful without being derogatory, and she really had no need to feel uncomfortable. Yet something about him unnerved her.

“Tell me,” he said with his most charming smile, “what does your first name, Kulani, mean in Hawaiian?”

Kulani felt red-hot heat strike her cheeks as she stood anchored to the spot, unable to move. The man was positively glowing with a “gotcha” expression on his face. She laughed self-consciously. “It means ‘heavenly,’ Mr. Carson.”

With a gloating grin at all the other passengers, Dev said, “See? I was right—heaven is here with us, right now.”

“You’re incorrigible, Mr. Carson.”

With a slight bow of his head, he murmured, “Why, thank you, Ms. Dawson.”

After she got all the passengers in, Kulani circled her aircraft, looking for any telltale leaks or anything else out of place. Satisfied the helicopter was air worthy, she climbed into the left-hand seat. More than a little aware of Jack Carson staring at her from behind his sunglasses, she felt the side of her neck prickling pleasantly. All the rest of the passengers were smiling and chatting excitedly as they put on their protective earphones, hardly able to contain their anticipation over the forthcoming adventure.

Dev watched as Kulani’s hands flew with knowing ease across the instrument panel, switching on this or that toggle. He put his earphones on his head and heard soft classical music in the background. No detail was too small for her, he realized. As the rotors on the aircraft began to turn faster and faster, the vibrations went through him. He was enjoying watching her—maybe a little too much. Kulani Dawson was more than a looker; she was enigmatic, he decided. And he had seen her assessing him, too. Being able to coax one tiny smile out of her made him feel like Mark McGwire when he’d hit his seventieth home run.