dolphin, not the mammal. You aren't eating Flipper."
His baiting tone irritated her. She wondered if he were deliberately trying to rile her and pay her back for her remark. That was foolish, of course.
"Don't tease her, Ruel," his aunt reproved. "It's a common error made by many visitors to the islands."
But Julie didn't want to be defended by Emily. "Mahimahi is the Hawaiian name for the dolphin, then?" she asked, subtly altering the subject.
"Yes." It was Emily who responded, as Julie expected. It started a discussion of the Hawaiian language and kept the conversation away from personal topics.
By the end of the week, Julie found it hadn't been so easy to forget how quickly she had flared at Ruel's comment about her looks. She hadn't become as indifferent to him as she had thought; her feelings smouldered beneath the surface. It was an unsettling discovery as she had been convinced that she had pushed him from her mind and her senses.
A car whizzed by and she stepped quickly back to avoid being splashed by the water on the road. A steady drizzle was falling, but the temperature was warm. The sunshine of the morning had been replaced by overcast skies and rain.
Shielding her eyes from the heavy drizzle, Julie peered down the highway for a glimpse of the bus. When she'd left the house that morning, she hadn't prepared for any change in the weather, and in consequence she'd had no protection from the rain. Her hair was plastered to her head, a gleaming dark honey shade. She was almost soaked to the skin—her wet clothes clinging to her. But at least it was warm!
There was more than half of the afternoon left. Since the weather showed little indication of improving, Julie had decided she might as well spend the rest of her Saturday back at the house writing letters. Unfortunately there was no sign of the bus. She debated whether or not to take shelter in the grocery store behind her, but she was afraid she wouldn't see the bus coming and would miss it.
A convoy of military trucks and jeeps went by. A few of the soldiers whistled and waved when they saw her standing at the bus stop. Sighing, Julie hunched her shoulders against the light rain. The burnt red volcanic soil at her feet was turning into mud.
The honking of a horn lifted her gaze from the ground, and the sight of a glistening black sports car slowing to a stop brought an immediate tensing of her muscles. She saw Ruel lean across and open the passenger door, his hard-bitten features looking out at her, elemental and male.
"Get in," he ordered.
Julie took a step backward. "I'm all wet."
"The water will wipe off." Impatience thinned the line of his mouth. "I'm not going to beg you to ride with me. Make up your mind, I'm holding up the traffic."
Julie glanced down the road and saw the cars lining behind him. The bus still wasn't in sight. Logic insisted that she accept his offer. After only a second's hesitation, she slid into the passenger seat and closed the door. Immediately Ruel put the car in gear and it accelerated forward.
"Thanks for stopping." Courtesy demanded that she make some acknowledgment of his action regardless of what his motivation might have been.
There was no response. Her face was beaded with rain water. She wiped at it with a wet hand and a handkerchief was offered her. She glanced at him as she accepted it. He faced the road, his bold profile masking any expression.
The windshield wipers swish-swished back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm. Julie wiped her face dry with the handkerchief. The faint, tantalizing scent of his after-shave lotion clung to the linen material, a musky fragrance that seemed indicative of his obvious manhood. That wasn't something Julie wanted to notice about him, not in the close quarters of the car.
"Are you cold? Would you like me to turn the car heater on?" Ruel asked, distantly polite.
"No, it isn't necessary. I'm just wet." She was nervous, disturbed by his nearness and unwilling to admit it.
His
His baiting tone irritated her. She wondered if he were deliberately trying to rile her and pay her back for her remark. That was foolish, of course.
"Don't tease her, Ruel," his aunt reproved. "It's a common error made by many visitors to the islands."
But Julie didn't want to be defended by Emily. "Mahimahi is the Hawaiian name for the dolphin, then?" she asked, subtly altering the subject.
"Yes." It was Emily who responded, as Julie expected. It started a discussion of the Hawaiian language and kept the conversation away from personal topics.
By the end of the week, Julie found it hadn't been so easy to forget how quickly she had flared at Ruel's comment about her looks. She hadn't become as indifferent to him as she had thought; her feelings smouldered beneath the surface. It was an unsettling discovery as she had been convinced that she had pushed him from her mind and her senses.
A car whizzed by and she stepped quickly back to avoid being splashed by the water on the road. A steady drizzle was falling, but the temperature was warm. The sunshine of the morning had been replaced by overcast skies and rain.
Shielding her eyes from the heavy drizzle, Julie peered down the highway for a glimpse of the bus. When she'd left the house that morning, she hadn't prepared for any change in the weather, and in consequence she'd had no protection from the rain. Her hair was plastered to her head, a gleaming dark honey shade. She was almost soaked to the skin—her wet clothes clinging to her. But at least it was warm!
There was more than half of the afternoon left. Since the weather showed little indication of improving, Julie had decided she might as well spend the rest of her Saturday back at the house writing letters. Unfortunately there was no sign of the bus. She debated whether or not to take shelter in the grocery store behind her, but she was afraid she wouldn't see the bus coming and would miss it.
A convoy of military trucks and jeeps went by. A few of the soldiers whistled and waved when they saw her standing at the bus stop. Sighing, Julie hunched her shoulders against the light rain. The burnt red volcanic soil at her feet was turning into mud.
The honking of a horn lifted her gaze from the ground, and the sight of a glistening black sports car slowing to a stop brought an immediate tensing of her muscles. She saw Ruel lean across and open the passenger door, his hard-bitten features looking out at her, elemental and male.
"Get in," he ordered.
Julie took a step backward. "I'm all wet."
"The water will wipe off." Impatience thinned the line of his mouth. "I'm not going to beg you to ride with me. Make up your mind, I'm holding up the traffic."
Julie glanced down the road and saw the cars lining behind him. The bus still wasn't in sight. Logic insisted that she accept his offer. After only a second's hesitation, she slid into the passenger seat and closed the door. Immediately Ruel put the car in gear and it accelerated forward.
"Thanks for stopping." Courtesy demanded that she make some acknowledgment of his action regardless of what his motivation might have been.
There was no response. Her face was beaded with rain water. She wiped at it with a wet hand and a handkerchief was offered her. She glanced at him as she accepted it. He faced the road, his bold profile masking any expression.
The windshield wipers swish-swished back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm. Julie wiped her face dry with the handkerchief. The faint, tantalizing scent of his after-shave lotion clung to the linen material, a musky fragrance that seemed indicative of his obvious manhood. That wasn't something Julie wanted to notice about him, not in the close quarters of the car.
"Are you cold? Would you like me to turn the car heater on?" Ruel asked, distantly polite.
"No, it isn't necessary. I'm just wet." She was nervous, disturbed by his nearness and unwilling to admit it.
His
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