was obviously nice and excited about her lesson. It had been rude of him to make her wait longer just because she had shit taste in friends.
Five minutes later, after he was satisfied that Melanie had the basics of paddling, kneeling, positioning herself in a standing position in the center of the board, and falling in the safest way, he suggested that she go and pick out a board from the beginner rack he kept on the beach.
He gave Melanie’s silent friend a bland look. “You’re up.”
“I don’t need instruction on the basics.”
“Is that right?” he asked mockingly.
He glanced down over her. He had to admit she had the body of an athlete. It wouldn’t surprise him if she knew exactly what she was doing. He’d immediately taken note of the casual manner in which she took off her sundress earlier in his shop. She was as used to baring her body as the female swimmers he knew—as most native Hawaiians, for that matter.
He hated to admit it, but she had excellent reason to be comfortable stripping down in public. She had a jaw-dropping body—strong and supple, but soft and feminine, too. And even though she wasn’t tanned, her smooth skin held a golden hue that promised to soak up the sun thirstily. If she stayed on the island for two weeks, she’d probably be ready to contend in a Miss Hawaiian Tropic contest.
“I’ll be the one to decide whether or not you need instruction. Get up on the board, and show me the basics.”
Her muscles stiffened. For a second, he thought she’d refuse, which would be fine by him. He’d be more than happy to leave her on the beach.
She surprised him by stepping up on the board, however. He stopped her with a hand on her elbow when she started to go lie down on her belly.
“Take off the hat and glasses.”
She started. Despite her frigid nature, her skin felt warm and satiny beneath his appreciative fingers.
“Why? What difference does it make?”
“I like to be able to look into the eyes of my students. Got a problem with that?”
He felt her stare on him from behind the dark glasses.
“Look, Waikiki isn’t Waimea in March—or even Sandy for that matter,” he said, referring to a few Oahu advanced surfer beaches. “But it ain’t the wave pool at the water park, either, lady. Those waves can pound the hell out of you. If you don’t do what I say, it can be dangerous. Call me an ass, but I tend to like to know what I’m dealing with before I take responsibility for you out there. If I can’t look into your eyes, it makes it a little difficult for me to know what you’re made of. Play by my rules, or don’t play at all.”
He realized he’d tightened his grip on her firm biceps. Without speaking she removed the straw hat and tossed it on the grass. Brown hair with golden highlights spilled around her shoulders. The glasses landed on top of the hat. Exotically tilted hazel eyes studied him coldly through thick, long lashes.
He knew those eyes. He knew that face. So did half the population.
He dropped his hand.
Okay, so half the population wouldn’t recognize her. She wasn’t pop-star famous by any means, but she did have a loyal following, not to mention the fact that her work commanded the respect of blues and jazz aficionados across the globe.
“Show me what you got,” he said grimly. He watched her as she gracefully came up into a surfing stance.
“I told you,” she said coldly over her left shoulder.
Jason spread his hand on the back of her thigh. “You know the actions, but you need to loosen up. You’re too tight. Relax.” He almost broke out in a huge smile when he slapped her thigh lightly. Her eyes widened in disbelief.
“Get your hand off me.”
“Give me a break, lady,” he muttered as he slid his hand down to her ankle, urging her to widen her stance an inch or two. “You saw me touching your friend as well. You need to relax more than just your body. Your attitude could use a Hawaiian adjustment as well.”
“Think I
Five minutes later, after he was satisfied that Melanie had the basics of paddling, kneeling, positioning herself in a standing position in the center of the board, and falling in the safest way, he suggested that she go and pick out a board from the beginner rack he kept on the beach.
He gave Melanie’s silent friend a bland look. “You’re up.”
“I don’t need instruction on the basics.”
“Is that right?” he asked mockingly.
He glanced down over her. He had to admit she had the body of an athlete. It wouldn’t surprise him if she knew exactly what she was doing. He’d immediately taken note of the casual manner in which she took off her sundress earlier in his shop. She was as used to baring her body as the female swimmers he knew—as most native Hawaiians, for that matter.
He hated to admit it, but she had excellent reason to be comfortable stripping down in public. She had a jaw-dropping body—strong and supple, but soft and feminine, too. And even though she wasn’t tanned, her smooth skin held a golden hue that promised to soak up the sun thirstily. If she stayed on the island for two weeks, she’d probably be ready to contend in a Miss Hawaiian Tropic contest.
“I’ll be the one to decide whether or not you need instruction. Get up on the board, and show me the basics.”
Her muscles stiffened. For a second, he thought she’d refuse, which would be fine by him. He’d be more than happy to leave her on the beach.
She surprised him by stepping up on the board, however. He stopped her with a hand on her elbow when she started to go lie down on her belly.
“Take off the hat and glasses.”
She started. Despite her frigid nature, her skin felt warm and satiny beneath his appreciative fingers.
“Why? What difference does it make?”
“I like to be able to look into the eyes of my students. Got a problem with that?”
He felt her stare on him from behind the dark glasses.
“Look, Waikiki isn’t Waimea in March—or even Sandy for that matter,” he said, referring to a few Oahu advanced surfer beaches. “But it ain’t the wave pool at the water park, either, lady. Those waves can pound the hell out of you. If you don’t do what I say, it can be dangerous. Call me an ass, but I tend to like to know what I’m dealing with before I take responsibility for you out there. If I can’t look into your eyes, it makes it a little difficult for me to know what you’re made of. Play by my rules, or don’t play at all.”
He realized he’d tightened his grip on her firm biceps. Without speaking she removed the straw hat and tossed it on the grass. Brown hair with golden highlights spilled around her shoulders. The glasses landed on top of the hat. Exotically tilted hazel eyes studied him coldly through thick, long lashes.
He knew those eyes. He knew that face. So did half the population.
He dropped his hand.
Okay, so half the population wouldn’t recognize her. She wasn’t pop-star famous by any means, but she did have a loyal following, not to mention the fact that her work commanded the respect of blues and jazz aficionados across the globe.
“Show me what you got,” he said grimly. He watched her as she gracefully came up into a surfing stance.
“I told you,” she said coldly over her left shoulder.
Jason spread his hand on the back of her thigh. “You know the actions, but you need to loosen up. You’re too tight. Relax.” He almost broke out in a huge smile when he slapped her thigh lightly. Her eyes widened in disbelief.
“Get your hand off me.”
“Give me a break, lady,” he muttered as he slid his hand down to her ankle, urging her to widen her stance an inch or two. “You saw me touching your friend as well. You need to relax more than just your body. Your attitude could use a Hawaiian adjustment as well.”
“Think I
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