up.”
Joel had, on more than one occasion, but that was a professional secret. “You do what you have to do in a survival situation.”
Tanah tossed her auburn curls in the breeze. “Maybe you could show me how,” she offered, not specifying what she wanted to be shown. He assumed she didn’t mean eat bugs. The tip of her tongue traced her parted lips as she looked at him.
“Maybe I could.” He grinned at her, appreciating the sheer pleasure of a come-on from a pretty woman, even if he didn’t intend to take her up on it.
Bella Moran’s soft mouth twisted with distaste. He considered describing in detail what it felt like to chew up a big, juicy grub pulled from the core of a plant and decided regretfully against it. He didn’t want to gross everyone out, just Ms. Hawaii.
Jesus, he was reverting to junior high school here. Next he’d be putting gum in her hair. He moved restlessly, straightening from his slouch against the railing. Too bad that stellar ass was wasted on such an uptight wahine.
He’d wait ’til they were off the boat, and chat up the redheaded Tanah or the blonde. Calla, Cassie…or something. For now, he needed to move a little.
“Excuse me, folks.” Joel stood up, balancing on the gently rolling deck. “I have a few questions for our captain.” Wide-legged to balance against the rolling of the waves, he walked back across the deck to where Frank Lelua sat at the wheel, sheltered behind a windscreen.
They motored around the point off Kau forest just as the sun sank below the soft clouds rimming the western horizon. A few miles to the southeast, a forested promontory caught the last rays of golden sun, the final outcrop before the island curved around to the south.
Beyond it, Bella knew, lay the southern coast of the island, a broad sweep of open grassland ending abruptly in rugged cliffs and interspersed with recent lava flows that spilled in wide swaths down into the ocean, in many places covering the single paved road. There was little to interrupt the trade winds, which swept along the southern coast, carrying the surf with them, huge waves smashing against the rocky shore. She was glad to be here instead of there.
Bella opened her duffel, pulled out the pair of shorts and long-sleeved Tshirt she’d packed on top, and tugged them on over her tankini. The shorts were cocoa brown, from DelRay’s summer line, the T-shirt her favorite red, with Hawaii and a hyacinth, the state flower, stamped on the front. The temperature was still around eighty degrees, but it would drop now that the sun had gone down, and she’d be glad of the long sleeves.
She’d love to go for a run up into the forest, then a swim to cool off, but she had things to do, like making sure camp was set up properly. Frank could easily take charge, but he wasn’t getting paid for it; she was.
Unzipping a side pocket on the duffel, she pulled out sturdy sandals of dark brown, suitable for hiking or splashing in the water. She wriggled her feet into them as Frank slowed the big catamaran. As they slid closer to the shore, the rocky point slowly revealed a small bay, hidden by the hook of the lava formation.
Bella stood watching as they motored into the little bay. The forest seemed to reach out to her, fig trees rising from their braided silver roots, clusters of coconut palms leaning out over the water, fronds rustling as if in welcome. Behind them lay a lush tangle of green, with hints of color blooming here and there. The mountain rolled up behind in verdant layers, looming like a native fortress.
She took a deep breath of the damp air, laden with the rich, fecund scent of the forest. Something inside her, closed tight and guarded against the strictures of office buildings, airplanes and busy highways, began to unfurl like the opening petals of a tropical bloom.
This was where she belonged. Soon she’d explore, hike up into the woods, take in the sights, sounds and smells, the textures of this forest. It called to all of her senses.
Bella frowned in consternation. Someone was calling to her…but how could that be? Yes, there it was—the softest of murmurs in her ear. She turned her head sharply, expecting one of her fellow passengers in a playful mood, but no one was within an arm’s length of her.
Joel Girand was nearest, standing relaxed