Page 3 of His Hawaiian Heart (Stateside Doms #26)

That was too unbelievable to remark on so instead, I turned and retorted, “I’m not interested in how you see anything, and I’m definitely not your darlin’.” My momentary relief at being back on schedule was now marred by their persistence.

“Now, you listen here. There’s no reason to get all bitchy,” Thruster growled, all hip flexing stopping as he reached out and grabbed my arm.

“Get your hand off me!” I snarled, wondering where in the hell airport security was. My foot was already drawing back for a well-placed kick when my question was answered.

“Sam?”

“Whoa,” the asshat said, snatching his hand away as if he’d touched a hot stove instead of my crawling flesh. “Sam? What the fuck! She’s a he?”

“No way, not with those tits,” Jolly said, holding his hands up to his chest and jiggling them as if weighing a pair of massive imaginary breasts.

What was it with these jerks and their need for visual aids? Though what I really wanted to do was drop kick Hip Thruster right in his balls, I turned to address the security guard who’d spoken far more politely.

“Yes, I’m Sam.”

“Right this way,” the man said, also ignoring the looks of disgust now covering the drunken men’s faces.

Anxious to just get away, I didn’t protest when the man reached for my suitcase.

I relinquished it to him and began walking in the direction he’d gestured.

It wasn’t until our destination became apparent that I groaned.

Unless the team had come into some huge grant I’d not known about, this had to be some sort of mistake. I turned and shook my head.

Fatigue was obviously causing my thought processes to dull because I just now truly looked at the man I’d thought was with security.

This guy wasn’t in any sort of security uniform I’d ever seen.

There was no badge or radio in sight, no name tag marred the line of his shirt.

Unless Hawaii’s officials dressed as if they’d stepped off the cover of GQ, I’d been wrong.

The guy I’d followed like I was a lemming heading for a cliff was wearing a well- tailored black suit, white shirt, and shoes polished highly enough to serve as a mirror.

“Thanks for the intervention, but I think you’ve got the wrong Sam.”

He just smiled and reached past me to pull open the back passenger door. “I don’t believe I do. Mrs. Blackwell is seldom wrong on these matters.” He waved his hand toward the interior of the limo.

“I don’t know any Mrs. Blackwell,” I said.

I should never have surrendered my suitcase.

Even if I had to leave it behind, there was no way in hell I was getting into any car even if it came with its very own driver.

A chauffeur’s uniform could be found in any costume store.

Granted, a stretch limo was a harder prop to find, but, hey, no one ever said serial killers couldn’t be classy.

“I’ll take my suitcase, please.”

He ignored my hand reaching for the handle of the suitcase. “Perhaps I should have said the ride is compliments of Ms. Harriett?”

At the name, I hesitated and he smiled and lifted his free hand to a height that barely reached his waist. “Woman about this tall? Hair whiter than snow and has a smile that lights up her whole face? Doesn’t hesitate to speak her mind or offer a hug? Does that ring any bells?”

“It does, but why would she do this? We don’t know each other.”

He gave the slightest rise of his shoulders. “I can’t say, other than the fact she’s one hell of a woman. Now, please, allow me to drive you to your hotel.”

Even though I dropped my hand, he evidently knew I still wasn’t quite convinced.

“Honestly, you’d be doing me a big favor. I’d hate to disappoint a sweet old woman by telling her you turned her kindness down. If you’d prefer, I’ll escort you to a taxi.”

I laughed and didn’t even care when it was joined by a very unladylike snort. “Good grief, I’d like to say that smooth-talking won’t get you anywhere, but seeing as how I really enjoyed meeting Mrs. Blackwell, and the fact that I’m pretty wiped out, I will accept on one condition.”

“I promise I have no ill intentions,” he said, all levity gone from his tone.

“Oh, I didn’t think you did. I just meant it would be a waste of your time and gas money if you don’t know the island as well as one of those taxi drivers.”

“I assure you, I know my way around.”

“Good,” I said as I moved to slip into the car. “In that case, I’m at the jungle spot.”

His confident smile wavered. “Excuse me? Maybe I spoke too soon. I’m not aware of a resort of that name.”

I laughed. “Not surprised. Sorry, my fault. It’s not a resort, but it’s exactly what it sounds like. A spot in the jungle. I’m joining my research team. We’re camping in Waimea Canyon, off Kokee Road.”

“Ahh, I see. In that case, we’re good to go. I believe you’d be more comfortable without the backpack?”

I hesitated but finally decided he was unlikely to steal a ratty backpack. “Thanks.” I slipped it off my shoulders and let him take it as well.

“Just sit back and enjoy the ride. You’ll find refreshments just there.” He leaned in to gesture at a panel in front of me. When he pushed a button, a door slid open to reveal rows of shelves that held a variety of drinks as well as a bin holding different types of fruits and cheeses.

“Wow, that’s pretty amazing.”

“It is indeed.” He grinned as he withdrew and had the door halfway closed when he pulled it open once more. “Sorry, one more thing.”

Darn it, I knew this lap of luxury wouldn’t last long, but I’d figured we’d at least pull away from the curb.

I drew my hand back from the offered snacks and waited as he disappeared.

I saw the front passenger door open and close before he reappeared and I understood the source of the floral aroma that filled the car.

“Oh, wow,” I said for the second time.

“Aloha, Sam.”

I bent my head so he could drape the lei over it. The flowers not only smelled incredible, they were gorgeous. I smiled widely. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He withdrew, this time shutting the door.

I heard the trunk open and then shut after he’d stowed my suitcase and backpack. As he slid into the driver’s seat, I asked, “Can I get you something?”

He turned, looking a bit surprised so I clarified, “Would you like a soda or water or maybe some mango?” I held up a bottle of water and a container of fruit.

He chuckled. “I’m more of a flat-water kind of guy and that’s not mango. It’s papaya.”

“Oh.” Okay, I might not know my fruits, but I didn’t let that stop me. I replaced the water and grabbed one that looked the same but didn’t have the word “sparkling” in cursive script on the label. “Here you go.”

He grinned and took the bottle. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Umm, so no papaya?”

He laughed as he uncapped the water. “No thanks, I’m good with this. Would you like some music?”

“Sure if you’ll decide which station goes best with watching the scenery go by.”

“First time on the island?”

“On this one yes,” I said. I’d been on too many islands to count, but Kauai was new to me.

“In that case, sit back and soak it in.” As he turned on the car, he also activated a switch that caused the entire top of the roof to slide back and disappear, allowing the sky to appear.

A breeze flew across the gap, dropping in as if to give me another welcoming hug before drifting out on an updraft as the car picked up speed.

Sighing, I did as he’d suggested and sat back against the incredibly soft cushions of the seat.

If I had no manners at all, I would have toed off my hiking boots, but managed to curtail the impulse.

I figured I could wiggle my toes in the sand soon enough.

For now, I sipped the ice-cold soda and nibbled on a slice of cheese.

I had no clue what kind it was and didn’t particularly care.

It was as delicious as the strains of music that seemed to envelop me.

The sound of an alto voice singing lyrics along with the accompaniment of what I thought must be a ukulele soothed the remaining tension from my body and for the first time since I’d awakened yesterday morning, it didn’t matter that I was here to work and not play.

Maybe if I was lucky enough to get a night off, I’d be able to check out some local hangout.

Perhaps even find someone who’d like to share some island bliss with.

How nice would it be if my driver just happened to be available?

If not, there’s always Bob, though you might want to pick up some new batteries.

I had to grin at the suggestion. Trust my inner sex goddess to be frank. Regardless of what or who I’d be doing, I made a vow that I’d do what Harriett had suggested and enjoy the rest of my time in the Hawaiian Islands.