Eden Burning
Authors: Elizabeth Lowell
| Eden Burning |
| Elizabeth Lowell |
| Avon (2001) |
Paradise calls to Chase Wilcox. A man of science fascinated by the rebirth of life in the wake of cataclysmic natural upheaval, he is drawn to the lush beauty of the island of Hawaii and the secrets it holds—while escaping the destruction of his own personal world. Here where warm breezes caress the skin and vibrant colors assault the senses—and where dangerous fires rage unseen beneath the earth's surface—Chase plans to immerse himself in his work...and somehow heal and forget. The last thing he needs or wants is love.
But the island is home to many unexpected wonders, which is why Nicole Ballard could never leave it. A research assistant, an artist, and a dancer—a tall, stunning redhead who goes by the stage name of Pele, the goddess of fire—she, too, hides a secret pain, releasing her pent-up sensuality to the accompaniment of native drums before a mesmerized audience. Nicole has never met a man quite like Chase, strong, intense, and brilliant. And he, in turn, is fascinated by this remarkable woman who seems to be a breathtaking force of nature in her own right. Fate has cast them together, causing a chain reaction that neither imagined in their most secret dreams.
Joined on an important scientific project that carries them into the verdant heart of a tropical wonder land, Nicole and Chase will be forced to confront their own lingering inner darkness, while resisting a newly inflamed need to touch, to give...to care. But in the shadows of Kilauea, all restraints will be broken, as emotions flow as hot and free as rivers of molten lava. And desire will erupt, as unpredictable and dangerous as the living volcano, transforming the very landscape of their lives—a torrent that no power on earth can contain, a passion that bums like fire.
Winner of the Romance Writers of America Award in 1994, Lowell has been retooling older paperback works and reissuing them as hardcovers. Her newest revision concerns passion in, appropriately, Hawaii.
Copyright 2001 Reed Business Information, Inc.
Elizabeth Lowell's acclaimed suspense novels include the
New York Times
bestsellers
Death Echo
,
Blue Smoke and Murder
,
Innocent as Sin
,
The Wrong Hostage
,
Always Time to Die
,
The Color of Death
,
Die in Plain Sight
,
Running Scared
, and
Moving Target
, as well as the four books featuring the Donovan family:
Amber Beach
,
Jade Island
,
Pearl Cove
, and
Midnight in Ruby Bayou
. Lowell has more than thirty million books in print. She lives in Nevada with her husband, with whom she writes mystery novels under a pseudonym.
For everyone who ever dreamed
of falling in love
in Paradise
Contents
Prologue “You’ve never seen anyone like her. That picture we sent doesn’t begin to do her justice.”
1
“You’ll see,” Dane said, giving his older brother an arch look.
2
Nicole Ballard saw the sudden sword edge of light coming through the crack. . .
3
For a moment Chase was afraid he had spoken the words aloud.
4
Early the next afternoon Nicole rode the bus from Hilo to the national-park visitors center.
5
Nicole finally managed to grab a shower in the washroom behind the Kipuka Club’s stage.
6
Chase pulled Nicole against his body even as he opened her mouth beneath his.
7
Nicole’s wrist tugged against Chase’s hot, hard fingers. Nothing gave way.
8
“Did you say something, little brother?” Chase asked.
9
The memory of Chase’s kiss was still tingling in Nicole the next morning.
11
By the time the Hilo bus finally arrived at the rim of the volcano. . .
12
About every five minutes Nicole glanced over her shoulder to reassure herself. . .
13
Chase kept writing until he had filled several pages with notes.
14
Chase forced himself to stop, remembering how it had felt to press himself against. . .
15
That night, as Chase settled into position behind the drums at the Kipuka Club. . .
16
Chase felt Nicole flinch away when his thumbs caressed her hardened nipples.
17
After a night of broken sleep and the kind of dreams that he hadn’t had since. . .
18
There was a moment of charged silence between the two brothers.
19
For the first few miles Nicole drove, she spent as much time looking in the mirrors. . .
20
“Pele? She’s not here,” Bobby said. With an easy motion he popped the cap off. . .
21
Leaving the Kipuka Club behind, Chase drove to the Kamehameha estate.
24
Monday morning Nicole woke to the sound of someone knocking gently at her door.
25
It was Thursday night before Chase managed to corner Nicole again.
26
Carefully Chase took a breath and thought about what Nicole had said.
27
The next morning Nicole had a houseful of kids trying to get one another ready for a hike. . .
28
By the time Nicole had herded everyone to the bus stop along the island highway. . .
29
Tantalizing thoughts of all the ways to demonstrate just how mistaken Nicole was. . .
30
Tuesday, Chase and Nicole were hiking together again as they had every day since the picnic.
31
Nicole didn’t know how long she stood on tiptoe kissing Chase.
32
Ten days later Nicole sat cross-legged on the oversize garden lounge and wondered. . .
33
When Chase came to Nicole’s cabin that night, Lisa was with him.
34
By the time morning came, Nicole was as restless as the melted rock seething. . .
35
In an aching voice Chase said, “I won’t hurt you. Don’t you know that yet?”
36
“Li-sa soon?” Benny asked. Despite the emotions twisting through her. . .
37
By the time Benny and three other Kamehamehas appeared at Nicole’s door the next day. . .
38
Nicole forced herself to breathe past the freezing instant of panic.
HarperCollins e-book extra:
Write as much as I can before the world catches up with me again: A conversation with Elizabeth Lowell
“You’ve never seen anyone like her. That picture we sent doesn’t begin to do her justice. No picture could.”
Sitting in Oregon—on the bed, because the motel room chairs were piled with reports—Chase Wilcox frowned at the phone and the eager affection in his younger brother, Dane’s, voice. His
married
younger brother. The younger brother who had a lovely wife and two wonderful children. The younger brother who couldn’t stop talking about some glorified shimmy dancer who was giving his daughter hula lessons.
Hula, for God’s sake.
Not that Chase objected to his niece, Sandi, learning the dance. From the little he had seen of hula dancing, it looked like good exercise. The problem was Sandi’s daddy. He was much too enthusiastic about the instructor for Chase’s comfort.
And that instructor was sexy enough to set fire to stone.
Almost reluctantly he touched the facedown photo that had come with his brother’s latest letter from Hawaii. Slowly he turned it over, hoping it wasn’t as bad as he had first feared.
It was worse.
Lust hit him hard and low and hot, the kind of heat even his very beautiful, very skillful, sexually manipulative ex-wife hadn’t been able to generate in him.
The woman in the snapshot apparently had been caught just as she finished turning in a swift circle with Chase’s little daughter in her arms. Lisa was laughing with a freedom he had been afraid would never come again after her mother’s casual cruelty. He owed Dane’s wife, Jan, for helping Lisa. Jan had a gentle patience and welcoming love that came to her as naturally as breathing.
Chase owed the dancer “Pele” something entirely different. She of the hip-length, flame-red hair and luminous gold cat eyes. Pele, who radiated sexuality like fire radiated heat. He couldn’t see what kind of body she had beneath the seething curtain of hair, but he was certain it was showgirl caliber. Women who strutted their stuff onstage for the benefit of cheering, leering men generally had something to strut.
“Hey, bro, you there or are you trimming your mustache?” Dane asked.
“Yeah, I’m here, yawning and listening to you run over like a plugged toilet about some exotic dancer who isn’t your wife.”
In Hawaii, Dane laughed despite the frown that came from his brother’s sour view of humanity in general and women and particular—except for Jan, his sister-in-law. For her, Chase had a well of tenderness as great as he had for his own daughter. That was what gave Dane hope that his brother was coming out of the bitterness that had followed losing custody of his daughter.
“Hey, don’t worry. Jan is the first to sing Nicole’s praises,” Dane said. “She’s good with kids and has real talent as an artist. In fact, wait until you see the drawings she does. You’ll see why we wanted her to do the illustrations for . . .”
While his brother ran on and on about Pele/Nicole’s skill as both an artist and a scientific illustrator, Chase drummed callused fingers silently on the desk in the generic motel room that was presently his “home.” Outside the window, invisible beneath the Pacific Northwest’s customary lid of clouds, the shattered cone of Mount Saint Helens steamed, brooded, and waited for the energy to blow its top again.
Chase wouldn’t have to wait as long for his own personal eruption. He was fed up to the teeth with hearing his brother rave on and on about the paragon of womanhood who just happened to be a shimmy dancer. If Jan was too gentle and good to see the danger to her own marriage, Chase sure as hell wasn’t. Having once been married to a gorgeous home wrecker, he had no problem recognizing one when she started swinging her hips around his little brother.
Abruptly Chase decided he couldn’t wait any longer. His life’s work was studying the return of life to volcano-scarred slopes; he didn’t want to have to help his brother survive devastation of the kind the dancer Pele would bring. Chase knew too much about that kind of personal agony—the numbing self-doubts, the despair, the cold blaze of hatred. He wouldn’t let it happen to Dane, to his wife, or to his children.
With the ruthlessness of an older brother, Chase cut Dane off in mid-word. “I got the go-ahead to study kipukas. I’m coming out to Hawaii as soon as I wrap up a few more details here.”
“Really?” Dane said instantly. “Lisa will be over the moon. She misses you.”
“Not as much as I miss her.”
His voice was rough. He hadn’t known how deeply he loved his little daughter until he had stood in court two years ago and silently raged against the judge who had been too dazzled by Lynette’s angelic beauty to see through it to the absolute selfishness beneath. Lisa—tender, shy, intelligent Lisa, a little girl who had just turned five—had been given over to the sole care of a woman who shouldn’t have been trusted with custody of a gravel pit.
Chase’s hand closed into a fist against the pain of being separated from his daughter. He ached to hold her, to feel her small fingers patting his “tickle fur” while she giggled with delight and he blew “furry bubbles” against her cheek. He needed to reassure her of his love and to reassure himself that the sins of her parents hadn’t scarred the little girl’s self-confidence beyond healing.
“You did the right thing to leave her with us after that bitch dropped her on your doorstep,” Dane said quickly. “Having Lisa crawling around with you on Mount Saint Helens or your pet South American volcanoes just wasn’t possible, especially with her recovering from pneumonia. And even if you had found a wonderful nurse/nanny . . . well, it’s just not the same as family.”
“I know.” Chase’s voice was tired and angry.
He
was tired and angry.
It seemed like he had spent a lot of time that way since the final custody hearing. He certainly had spent the past few weeks living with too much work and anger. He had put in eighteen-hour days in order to turn over enough of his old projects so that he could take a week or so in Hawaii, set up the new project, and sort out his blissfully stupid younger brother’s life. Then, finally, Chase would be able to settle with Lisa on the Big Island for at least a decade of studying Hawaii’s fascinating balance of destruction, creation, and the stubborn ability of life to survive no matter what the odds.
“After Lynette, Lisa needed the security of a loving family, of a woman like Jan,” Chase said, trying to keep the old bitterness out of his voice. “Lisa needed to love and be loved by a mother. From the smile on her face in the pictures you sent, I owe you and Jan more than I can ever repay.”
“Our pleasure. And don’t forget Nicole. She’s really good with kids. She and Lisa—”
“Oh, I won’t forget Nicole,” Chase interrupted. “That’s a promise. Give Jan a big hug for me.”
And give yourself a big kick in the butt for being so gullible,
he added silently.
He hung up and stared down at the photos of Lisa and Dane, Lisa and her cousins, Lisa and Jan, Lisa dwarfed by one of Hilo’s giant tree ferns, Lisa smiling shyly up at a dark-haired, tanned Hawaiian boy whose facial bones gave promise of future strength and beauty. Like Lisa’s face; even at seven she had a loveliness that made people stare.
Like her mother, she was too beautiful to be real.
But unlike Lynette, Lisa was vulnerable to human emotions. For her sake, and for Dane’s, the hip-swinging, hula-dancing home wrecker had to go.
Chase only hoped that his little brother wouldn’t screw things up hopelessly in the week before he could get to Hawaii.
