HIGH TIDE (4 page)

“For God’s sake man, run!”

He chuckled. “Sorry Bree. Be back real soon.”

Briana was still smiling as she heard Naoki jog down the front steps.

One last circuit around the house confirmed that the décor was tasteful, not pretentious. She stood in the foyer, under the cathedral ceiling, watching prisms of sun cast rainbows across the wall.

Stooping to yank on her shoes,
she then peered at the digital alarm, tentatively keying in the sequence number. Satisfied that it took, she reached for the front door and walked directly into a broad, hard chest.

Loose cotton fabric that smelled of the sun overwhelmed
Briana. She muttered a distracted apology and tried to backpedal. Strong hands seized her waist when she stumbled in her heels. Finally able to right herself, she drew back her shoulders and retreated.

“I’m sorry,” she began automatically, but then looked up into the crooked grin of Nick McCord.

“Wh-what do
you
want?” Anger and the residual effects of his touch made her stutter. “I thought we decided that our next contact would be through our lawyers.”

“You may have decided that, Briana.”

“It’s Ms. Holt!” she interjected. “And I asked you what you’re doing here.”

To add to her stress, the alarm began to shrill because the front door had been left open too long. Throwing her hands in the air in silent appeal, she turned her back on Nick and quickly muted the siren. To her dismay, she discovered that he had followed her inside and was now executing a full pivot in the foyer, his head tilted back to reveal a throat she could imagine rubbing her lips against. It would feel warm, and taste salty, and there would be a hearty pulse beneath her kiss—

“Briana?”

Briana blinked and clamped her mouth shut.

“Why do you insist on calling me that?” Exasperation added a strange pitch to her voice.

“Because it’s a beautiful name and it suits you.”

“Flattery from a man who has sealed my fate?”

Nick smirked. “Oh, trust me, I’m not pleased with the fact that I find you attractive, but I’m strong
. I can overcome it.”

“Well—” Briana opened her mouth for a witty comeback
, but found that she had none. As a matter of fact, she was having trouble getting past the,
I find you attractive
part.

“Anyway,” he continued, “t
he place isn’t too bad.”

She cleared her throat and managed, “It’s be
autiful, but your opinion doesn’t really matter.”

“Yes it does.” Nick’s head tipped back down, his eyes paralyzing her. “That’s why you were on the phone with the state this morning. Actually, I di
dn’t expect to find you in here. I thought you’d be out skulking around the property.”

White fingers clenched around the leather strap of her purse as Briana strove for composure. “It’s not my style to skulk, Mr. McCord.” It irked her that he always seemed to find her amusing.

“Look, I’ll be honest with you,” he said. “If I had an inkling that you might be in here, I’d have stayed away. I just came to see what all the fuss was about—whether these homes were worth destroying one of Oahu’s best beaches.”

“You’re insane. You have no proof. Those—those papers you showed me mean nothing.”

Nick moved into the living room, but halted at the sound of her shrill voice.

“Take your shoes off!”

He kicked off the Timberlands, abandoning them right where he stood and moved towards the bank of casement windows.

With a huff, Briana bent to retrieve his shoes and drop them safely on the tiled entryway. Her face burned and she felt she was bordering on hysteria.
What a drastic reaction for one so usually composed.

“Look, the model is not open for the public yet. I can arrange for you to have a walk through with one of the realtors in a day or two.”

“But it’s much more personalized this way, don’t you think, Briana? I mean being shown the work by its creator.”

“I am not the architect.”

Nick glanced over his shoulder. “No, but you are the one who brought this all together. I’ve done my research. I know none of this would have happened without you, and honestly I apologize about the comment regarding this being a
haole
project. I learned that most of these lots have already been sold to natives, at reasonable prices.”

“I hear this lingering
but
in the air.”

“You may have had good intentions,
but
the result of your work is going to have devastating impact on the coastline, something that could cost taxpayers a lot of money to rectify.”

Briana sighed and reached a hand up beneath her bangs to massage her forehead. “I’ll tell you what, Mr. McCord. As much as the sight of you aggravates me and makes me yearn for aspirin, perhaps you should stick around, survey the project, and see firsthand how wrong you are.”

“I have Excedrin in my jeep,” he offered.

Her fingers curled into a fist.

Nick smothered a chuckle. "Okay, I’ll stay and survey your project.”

***

That chuckle faltered as Nick caught Briana’s breasts heave in exasperation. He all but gawked as the gentle swells pressed against her silken shirt. Beneath the slightly sheer fabric, he could see the outline of her bra and detected a rim of lace.

Dragging his gaze from that temptation up to the flash of fire in her eyes, he thought that this woman was
hot
on a whole other level.

Smarten up
, McCord
. If you’re going to start looking at women again, don’t let it be this one
.
You need something simple in your life.

Of all the metaphors that came to mind when he looked at Briana Holt
, simple
was not one of them
.

Nick prowled the outskirts of the site
, his attention focused primarily on the behemoth tractors with their vacillating claws. He was somewhat mollified to see the contents of those claws deposited straight into the wide bed of a dump truck. Glancing down at his watch, he cursed, recalling the meeting that was now taking place at the University without him.

At this stage, he could not present a convincing case against
Moku Land Inc. But he
did
need to inform USGS of the facts that were available, and those all indicated that something was agitating the ocean bed just off the Windward coast. Some of the signs were indicative of dredging operations, but the coast was protected by law, with no underwater ventures allowed that would possibly tamper with the coral reef. This left only the construction at
Manale Palms
as a potential source.

Nick glanced up when he noticed a flash of cobalt across the courtyard just beyond the billowing fountain. Briana moved purposefully, the brisk gait forcing a gap in the pleated slit of her skirt. He jerked his gaze from those sexy long legs, and watched as an insistent breeze blew loose golden wisps of hair into gentle spirals around her face, and molded the silky blouse to her chest.

Briana stopped to confront a small congregation of men. Though she was tall, she was still forced to look up at them. From this distance, he watched in fascination the graceful hand that gestured with authority even as the wind threatened to yank her slackened ponytail free.

Adjacent to him, at the rim of a newly excavated trough, a construction worker in a hard-hat gaped openly and muttered something about wanting
a piece of that
.

Nick’s jaw clenched. “You don’t have time for
that.”

The spike of jealousy startled
him. He took it out on the man in the pit. “Look at the angle of this trench. Are you going to leave it like this?”

A face that had tanned to burnt leather revealed plump lips pursed in affront. The man cocked his head and considered the tall visitor, reproachful of what he suspected was another useless engineer. He yanked the plastic helmet back on tighter and grumbled on his descent into the pit.

Yeah, Nick was definitely not pleased with the way his body responded to Briana Holt. Hell, he was used to the University of Hawaii campus, where there were literally hundreds of twenty-one year olds—old enough to be legal; young enough to make a man his age yearn for a time long ago.
And most practically throwing themselves at his feet.
But no, his body reacted to an opinionated, over-worked land contractor.

After a comprehensive assessment of the grounds, Nick noted approvingly that Briana had built
homes
, places with yards for children to play, not some god-awful thirty-story condominium complex that would simply add another scar to the coastline.

Watching her, he had to seriously consider what brought him here today, away from a critical meeting. He didn’t need to review this construction site
. The operation appeared legitimate. If there was trouble, it most likely stemmed from lazy workers who would not be caught dumping during the light of day, but rather under the cloak of night when the battalion of engineers and surveyors were out of sight.

No,
he was here for one reason and that aggravated him. Of their own volition, his eyes scaled up those slim legs. Leisurely, he trailed higher to the alluring curves of her breasts. He could almost sense what they would feel like to the touch.
Soft, small, perfect
.

His glance rose to the silky hair and imagined his hands immersed in that sultry fan of gold. The fantasy progressed as he tipped her head back.

Nick growled an oath, and wrenched away.  It was time to get the hell out of here.

C
HAPTER THREE

“Some of the guys are going over to Baywater’s. Why don’t you come along, Bree?”

Briana’s nose was immersed in a box of Keito’s
okashi—gingerbread that smelled divine. “Hmm? Oh, I don’t know, I feel like I’ve been through the ringer today.”

“Exactly why you deserve to get out. Come on, I’ll buy you a beer.”

Pushing the box away, Briana relented with a wicked grin. “How can I resist? But—”

“No.” He shook his head, crossed his arms and planted his feet in confrontation. “Grandma ordered me to take you out. She says you are looking pale.”

“Ah, and your clever grandmother believes that alcohol will bring color back to my cheeks?”

Naoki barked a short laugh and nodded.

Baywater’s was a cozy thatch-roofed restaurant directly across from Manale Beach. The Koolau range was its backdrop, and the placid Pacific its vista. Thick-trunked banyan trees bristled around the open patio where the sound of a Ukulele drifted across the parking lot.

Briana tugged her hair from its confines and then glanced down at her skirt, wishing she had dressed more casually. The din of conversation, mingling with the harmonious tune, had her tension receding
, though. She hummed along with the melody and flashed Naoki a grin.

The
maître d’, dressed in a colorful sarong, greeted them with a congenial smile. Naoki continued past her towards the congested bar.

Briana tugged on his arm. “She’s new. Cute.
  A redhead. I could see you with a red-head.”

Large eyes rolled behind his glasses as Naoki elbowed into position, ordering a beer for himself and a Mai Tai for Briana.

“Are you trying to get me wasted? Tomorrow’s still a work day, you know.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, Bree,” Naoki handed her the tall glass and tipped the rim of his beer bottle against it. “If ever there was a person in need of a strong drink, it’s you.”

Briana rolled her eyes. “How flattering, Takanawa. I’m fine.”

She sipped the fruity rum cocktail and managed a congenia
l nod at one of the builders across the U-shaped bar.

“You’re not supposed to hibernate in the corner here with me,” Naoki chastised. “You’re supposed to go mingle with the people you work with, it’s called
socializing.
”

“And you’re the guru of that.” Briana chided the young man who ave
rted his head when the maître d’ cast him a sidelong glance.

Tainted by years of practically being a part of his family, Briana had to step back and reassess
ed Naoki Takanawa. He was thin in a wiry sort of way. His almond eyes were somewhat distorted behind the thick lenses, and his shock of black hair was made erratic by determined cowlicks. But all in all, he had a handsome face and an engaging demeanor to the few he trusted. If he were to remove his glasses, those eyes caught the second glance of many women at the bar.

Briana began scanning the possibilities. Two seats to Naoki’s right, a young blond in a bikini top and shorts giggled with her girlfriend. The redheaded
maître d’ made several trips past them, but in the tight quarters, this was inevitable. Briana’s glance swept the bar again, lingering on the pensive woman sitting by herself in the corner. The young woman had her face cupped in the palm of her hand, and an elbow on the lacquered bar. Initially, Briana thought the girl had had too much to drink, but on second pass, sensed that she was distraught.