Kona Winds (17 page)

"Why would I be arguing with your brother?" Julie dodged the question with a stilted laugh.

"Listen, a minute ago the air in here was so thick, you needed a machete to cut through it," Debbie declared.

"That's nonsense. You're imagining things," Julie insisted, and began shuffling papers in a show of business.

"I don't think so. For instance, I know Ruel didn't take you to dinner Saturday night just so you could have a meal out. He took you because you're a woman. You went because he's a man."

"Debbie—" Julie began.

"Don't bother to deny it." Debbie didn't give Julie a chance to finish her sentence. "It's the most natural thing in the world—the two of you living under the same roof, eating breakfast and dinner together. Ruel is bound to have noticed you. And nobody can ignore him for long. You've fallen for him, haven't you?"

"No!" It was a sharp, explosive denial and an outright lie.

"It's okay, Julie," Debbie consoled. "Everybody does."

"Thanks!" It wasn't any comfort to know she was one of the many.

"I'm sorry. Maybe you'll feel better if you tell me what you fought about?" Debbie suggested.

"Once and for all, Debbie, we didn't fight." It had been a clear-cut parting of the ways. "I'm not going to discuss your brother any further. Is that clear?"

"I was just trying to help." Debbie's dark eyes held a look of wounded dignity.

"You can help by getting on with your lessons," Julie retorted.

By the time Thursday arrived, Julie was almost glad to see Debbie leave for the hospital, since it gave her a respite from the girl's scrutiny. At almost seventeen, Debbie was too perceptive. She didn't make any more attempts to invite Julie's confidence, but it was unspoken in her every look, and the strain of ignoring it had begun to wear her nerves thin. It had been as difficult to endure as Ruel's studied politeness, so cool and aloof.

Julie wasn't on hand to welcome Debbie home late Friday afternoon. She had swum in the pool to the point of exhaustion and was stretched out on one of the lounge chairs when she heard the commotion that heralded Debbie's return. She didn't think she could match the happy sound of the voices filtering from the house, so she made no attempt to join them. Besides, Ruel would be there and Julie preferred not to be with Debbie when he was around and vice versa.

Closing her eyes to the glaring angle of the sun, she tried to relax. Its warmth couldn't ease the tension that stiffened her muscles and frayed at her nerves. She was living each day as it came, never asking herself how long she could stand up under the strain.

The familiar slip-slipping sound of Malia's thongs on the sun deck warned her of the housekeeper's approach. "Miss Emily was wondering where you were, Julie. Debbie has come home from the hospital."

"Yes, I heard." She didn't move nor open her eyes.

"You should see her! She's so excited about that wheelchair," Malia declared. "It will be good for her to be able to get out of that room for a little while each day."

"Yes, it certainly will," Julie agreed. "Debbie has been looking forward to that."

"Yes, she has. Aren't you going to come in to see her?" Malia asked when Julie showed no indication of leaving the pool area.

"Later," promised Julie, "after the initial excitement of coming home has died down. Besides, I know . . . her brother and Emily will want to spend some time with her, and I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Miss Emily wouldn't think you were intruding," Malia replied. "And Ruel has a dinner engagement in town this evening. He said he just had time to shower and change before he leaves."

"Oh." Julie swallowed at the lump that rose in her throat. His dinner companion would probably be some beautiful woman who didn't care if she bored him. "Tell Debbie I'll be in to see her later," she repeated at last. "Sometime before dinner."

"I will." There was a faint sigh in Malia's voice as if she regretted not being able to persuade Julie to come in sooner.

As Julie listened to the woman's footsteps retreating to the house, she felt a tear trickle out of the corner of her eye and into her hair.

She wiped it away with a finger. Opening her eyes, she tried to blink away the moistness that was gathering in them. Her throat ached and it hurt to breathe.

Something—a sound or a sensation—made her look up. Ruel was standing on the lanai overlooking the pool. The doors of his bedroom were open behind him. His shirt was pulled free of the waistband of his trousers and was unbuttoned three-quarters of the way down; he looked as if he had been halted in the act of taking it off. He was staring at her, stretched out on the lounge chair like a sacrificial offering to the sun.

The scanty covering of the orange bikini had never bothered Julie before, but now she felt exposed—naked. She had the feeling he could see all the way into her soul. She couldn't let him do that. Rising abruptly, she grabbed for her beach jacket and hurriedly stuffed her arms in its sleeves. She wrapped it across her front and tied the terry cloth sash. When she glanced to the upper lanai where Ruel had been watching, he wasn't there. The doors to his bedroom were partially shut.

Her shoulders sagged with defeat and a long, broken sigh came from her throat. What had she been protecting? Or had she merely been tilting at windmills? She concluded that she was her own worst enemy. She had to get control of herself and her emotions.

As she climbed the outer staircase to the lanai and her bedroom, she felt as fragile as glass. She was on the verge of breaking. The slightest jar would be capable of shattering her. She wanted to cry, but she was afraid of doing even that.

Pushing open the French doors to her room, she walked in. Her hair was almost dry from the swim, but it was matted about her shoulders. She lifted it away from her neck and let it fall back. Her appearance had ceased to concern her. Untying her beach jacket, she took it off and started to toss it on the chair by the wall. Something skittered across white-painted drywall and startled a shriek of alarm from her before she recognized the tiny harmless lizard, one of many that inhabited the gardens outdoors.

If she hadn't been so edgy, the little creature would not have scared her. Shaking in reaction, she clutched the robe to her stomach. Her heart was attempting to resume its normal beat.

"You're cracking up!" She whispered the warning to herself.

The French doors burst open. Her nerves had barely recovered from her previous fright, and she spun around, shattered to find Ruel standing inside, naked to the waist, concern etched in his hard male features.

"What is it? I heard you scream," he demanded.

She fought the rising tide of panic. "It was nothing. One of those . . . lizards or chameleons, whatever they are . . . ran across the wall," she explained in a faltering voice. "It . . . scared me for a second before I saw what it was."

Exhaling a breath, he relaxed. His muscles seemed to visibly uncoil. "You're all right, then. I thought you might have hurt yourself somehow," he said grimly.

She shook her head. "No, I'm all right."

It was impossible to tear her gaze from him. She had never seen him like this, his chest bared, hard flesh gleaming in a ripple of muscle, his skin deeply tanned all over. His virility shook her senses, assaulting her from every direction.

Her fingers curled into her palms, wanting to thread themselves through that cloud of golden-brown hair on his chest. She could almost hear the steady pounding of his heart—or was it hers? The male scent of him seemed to reach across the room and envelop her.

Ruel seemed so primitive standing there, half-dressed. The sight of him touched a similar core in her own being. She looked into his face and saw his gaze waywardly working its way over her bikini-clad torso. The beach jacket was a crumpled ball, pressed to her stomach, concealing none of her curves.

When his eyes met hers she saw the desire blazing there, and elemental hunger trembled through her. She felt raw and exposed, defenseless against him, because of the uncontrollable emotion he aroused.

"Get out of my bedroom." It was a hoarse plea not to test her resistance any farther. She knew she had none.

His head made a short, negative movement. "Julie." He held out a hand in silent entreaty and took a step toward her.

With a half-muffled cry she swayed toward him. It was all the answer Ruel needed as he crossed the room to sweep her into his arms. Julie locked her arms around his neck, her toes dangling off the floor. The dam had burst and nothing could hold back the tide of her love.

Chapter Eleven

HALF-SOBBING WITH JOY, she pressed kisses against his jaw and cheek while he buried his mouth in the curve of her neck. "I don't care anymore."

"Julie," he moaned.

His trembling lips moved up her neck to seek the parted softness of hers. His sighing breath of satisfaction filled her mouth with a quaking intimacy. She felt his hand moving up her spine to the halter bow of her bikini. A pull of the string and it loosened. She hunched her shoulders so he could remove the top completely, then it went sailing across the room as naked flesh met naked flesh.

"God, how I've wanted you," Ruel muttered against the hollow of her throat.

Unburdened by her weight, he carried her to the bed and laid her on the coverlet. The mattress sagged as he followed her down. With the pressure of his body spread half over her and half beside her, Julie's limbs felt curiously weak. A heady lethargy took hold of her and she surrendered to the sensuous demands he made.

She shuddered with desire when he bent to kiss the curve of her breast and tease the rosy peak into hardness. The sensual ache for fulfillment warmed her body—and she was overwhelmingly aware that Ruel was equally disturbed.

His mouth was back on her lips, crushing them, nibbling their edges. "Kulie." The golden cloud of chest hairs settled onto her rosy peaks. His hand slid down her waist, closing over her hipbone. "Ipo, ku'uipo," he murmured into her mouth. "Aloha auia oe." He rubbed his chin and cheek against hers in a rough caress. His eyes were half-closed, smoldering over her in passion. "I don't know why it comes out so much easier in Hawaiian," he said thickly. "Do you know what I said?"

"No." Words had ceased to matter. They were after all only words. "Kiss me. Love me, Ruel," she begged.

His mouth covered hers in urgent possession. His hands were seeking and shaping her curves to him. Neither could seem to get close enough to the other. His weight crushing her more fully onto the bed; his body rising above her.

A succession of sharp raps on the door was followed immediately by Emily calling, "Julie? Are you all right?"

Julie surfaced from his kiss with a rush, but not quickly enough to call out an answer. The knob rattled as she searched for her voice. The door opened and Emily stepped in.

It all happened in a span of seconds. There wasn't sufficient time for Julie and Ruel to separate. After Julie's initial glimpse of Emily's shocked expression, she turned her face away, burying it in the hard muscle of his upper arm. He shielded her from his aunt's view for a moment.

"What is going on here?" Emily finally breathed out the demand.

"Dammit! What the hell do you think is going on?" Ruel snapped, and levered himself away from Julie to rise from the bed.

Hot with shame and embarrassment, Julie rolled onto her side, grabbing for the edge of the coverlet to hide her nakedness. Waves of nausea swamped her. She thought she was going to be sick. She couldn't bring herself to look at either Emily or Ruel.

"Julie, I—" The shock of disappointment and disapproval was in the woman's voice.

"For God's sake, Em, leave her alone," he muttered.

"You know very well that I will not permit such goings on in this house, Ruel," his aunt declared, provoked into rage.

"Leave Julie alone! If anyone needs to be lectured, it's me." The anger in his voice was barely controlled.

Silent sobs began to shake Julie's shoulders. Her trembling fingers pulled the coverlet closer around her; she hunched her shoulders beneath it. Despite what Ruel said, she knew she was as much to blame for what happened as he was.

A hand touched her shoulder and she cringed from it. Her tear-filled eyes were aware of Ruel standing beside her, but she couldn't turn to him. He hesitated.

"It was my fault. I'll explain to Em," he promised quietly. "Julie, I have to go now."

She couldn't lift her head to look at him. She wasn't sure if she could look at anyone in the face again. She simply nodded that she had heard what he said as she drowned in her private sea of misery.

She heard him walk to the door. When it closed, she slumped onto the bed, tortured sobs racking her body. It had all seemed so beautiful and right, and now it had become sordid and wrong.

In the hallway she heard Em's voice. "I thought I heard her scream, Ruel."

"Oh, my God, Em!" Ruel sighed angrily. "She saw a lizard and it frightened her. I heard her cry out, too. That's why I . . . Oh, what the hell!"

Both their footsteps retreated down the hallway and Julie didn't hear any more of their conversation. She cried—for what she'd done and what she'd lost. It was a long time before the well went dry. She lay on the bed in a stupor of pain after it was over.