Hunter's Pride. Lindsay McKenna
Читать онлайн книгу.
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.
Suddenly, Dev felt happier than he could ever recall. Since his devastating divorce years ago, a pall had hung over him. But simply by being in the general vicinity of Kulani Dawson, he felt his life take on a new, keen joy. It was something Dev had never experienced before. As the aircraft lifted off the tarmac and headed upward into the deep blue sky, he laughed softly and sat back. Morgan Trayhern sure as hell knew how to pair him up with the right woman. But Dev would never have her as a merc team member. Now, as far as a relationship was concerned, that was another matter—a honeyed one oozing with promise.
Chapter Three
Kulani began her formal introduction to her eager passengers as she gently lifted the helicopter off the asphalt tarmac of Lihue Airport. Ascending quickly to one thousand feet, the prescribed altitude for her aircraft, she started off on her usual route. Kulani wasn’t surprised to hear gasps of pleasure from the women passengers as the immense size and grandeur of Kauai came into view. They always appreciated Kauai’s incredible green beauty.
“Kauai is called the Garden Island for good reason,” she said as she moved her aircraft toward the western, drier side of the island. “You can see the magnificent dormant volcano—Mount Waialeale which we’ll visit later—in the middle of the island. As we fly around it, south to west, you’ll find a lot of sugar cane being grown below.”
“Not pineapple?”
Kulani’s neck prickled pleasantly. Jack Carson’s deep voice was like the rough lick of a cat’s tongue on her flesh. It wasn’t unusual for passengers to ask questions, but she’d never had such a response to a question before. “Not pineapple, Mr. Carson. Just a lotta sweet sugar cane on this island.”
She continued her talk. Kauai Community College sped by beneath them and they crossed the major road that encircled two-thirds of the island, the Kaumualii Highway. “As we go south, it gets a lot drier. There’s not as much rainfall down here as up on the north coast of Kauai. The main tourist hotels down in this part are located around Poipu. You can see the clear turquoise and emerald colors of a healthy ocean below us.”
“How about whales?”
It was Carson—again. He was leaning forward in his seat, his camera balanced between his very large hands.
“They come in from about November through May every year to calve their babies here. The north shore, the Na Pali Coast area, is where most of the sightings take place.” She licked her lips. Carson was so close. She felt vulnerable to his warm, vibrant presence. As if sensing her unease, he sat back in his seat. Internally, Kulani breathed a sigh of relief. Trying to concentrate on the changes of terrain taking place beneath her, she urged her helicopter toward the western side of the island.
The land below turned from green to the many different colors of dried earth. “What you see coming up beneath us is Waimea Canyon. When Mark Twain was here, he called it the Grand Canyon of the Pacific. The layers of earth represent different eruptions and lava flows. The canyon is ten miles long and one mile deep. For those who are hikers, you can actually walk thirty-six hundred feet down into the bottom of it.”
“I’d like to take that hike with you. You look like you could handle it.”
Carson—again. Kulani found his intrusions unsettling. Not in a bad way; rather, a good way. She absorbed his low, vibrating voice into her body and, surprisingly, into her heart. Maybe it was just because she was feeling vulnerable. After all, they were getting close to the Na Pali Coast, and Kulani dreaded this part of the trip. Already, her chest was beginning to feel as if a band were around it. And Carson’s voice somehow, almost miraculously, had dissolved her fears—if only momentarily.
“I don’t do hiking, Mr. Carson. I like to fly,” she teased back, her voice a bit off-key.
He chuckled deeply and took a few snapshots out the window. “If I pack the sandwiches, the bottle of wine and bring along some great desserts, will you go with me?”
The other passengers all chuckled at his joking. Kulani felt heat crawling up her neck and flooding her face. Blushing! Of all things. It didn’t look very professional, she was sure. Keeping her focus on the instruments before her, she laughed a little. “I know a whole lotta ants that would love to take you up on your offer, Mr. Carson.”
“Shucks, shot down again.” Dev grinned at his audience, who were all smiling and laughing with him. He saw the redness creep into Kulani’s soft, golden skin and he saw one corner of that incredibly luscious mouth pull slightly upward. Sensing that he had his foot in the door, he decided to work on getting her to go out to dinner with him tonight. One way or another. Right now, he felt like a hunter on the track of an animal he wanted to bring down. There was always the thrill of the chase for him where women were concerned, but Kulani wasn’t just any woman. She was unique. Sultry. Enigmatic. He didn’t quite know what was going on in that head of hers. He wished he could look her in the eye, but from this angle, all he could see was her clean, aristocratic profile.
They flew over the canyon, then on toward the northern part of the island. Clouds that were forming like white cotton candy along the green-clad slopes mesmerized Dev. The whole scene was beautiful.
“What you’re seeing right now,” Kulani said, “are the misty forests of Koke State Park, woodlands that surround this incredible canyon. We’re going to rise and follow the brush-and-tree-clad slopes to the top, on the other side of which is the Na Pali Coast.” Her throat closed. She felt grief surge through her. Automatically, her hands tightened around the collective and cyclic. Her heart began to beat a little harder as the helicopter began to climb the verdant slope toward the top of the ridge that separated the canyon from the coast.
“Hey,” Dev said, pointing his finger between Kulani and the passenger seated beside her, “isn’t that a hiking trail right on top of this ridge?”
Shaken by his sudden closeness and his intensity, Kulani said, “Why, yes, it is…thousands of tourists hike that trail every year. It’s a slippery track made of clay, and it’s always misting rain up there. A lot of people get hurt because they don’t wear proper foot gear or they’re not prepared for the changes in temperature and weather, which happen almost hourly at that elevation.”
Dev was less than twelve inches away from Kulani. He heard the breathlessness in her voice. He saw the corner of her mouth dig inward, as if she were hurting. And as he perused her more closely, he saw tiny dots of perspiration standing out on her brow. She was having a reaction to something. Him? He hoped not. His ego wouldn’t be able to handle the possibility that he bothered her. The feeling around her was one of tightness. Even her lips were compressed, no longer soft and accessible as before.
“Is it possible,” he asked, “to climb from that path down into the Kalalau Valley? It looks like the trail stops at the top of the ridge.”
Stunned by Carson’s question, Kulani felt an incredible surge of pain in her heart. She brought the helicopter to a hover well above the trail so that her passengers could get their first look at the Na Pali coastline. “Uh, yes…yes, I guess you could.” Swallowing hard, she rasped, “The trail is a point where a climber could choose to scale that wall and descend into the valley below. It’s a highly dangerous climb. The valley is twenty-two hundred feet deep, with steep,