HIGH TIDE (6 page)

The
lights
that Nick turned on were a chain of six-foot tall tiki torches planted in a methodic path down to the beach. The single-story bungalow was flanked on three sides by a wraparound lanai accessed via spacious French doors.

Nick’s hand flicked a match as he lit the two remaining torches on the porch. He jogged down the few steps and crossed the yard towards the jeep.

“Okay, there are a lot of ruts in the ground. I wanted you to be able to see without that shoe on.”

Extending his hand to assist her from the jeep, Briana first stared at it and then moved up to eye him
incredulously. “Why are you suddenly being so nice to me? I thought I was the enemy.”

A grin flashed in the torchlight. “Maybe I’m hoping to get lucky?”

She arched an eyebrow.

He
chuckled, and stepped back. “Don’t worry Ms. Holt, you’re safe with me. I’m not going to touch you.”

That answer didn’t particularly mollify her.

“Why?” She eyed him. “You don’t like women very much, do you?”

“I love women. They just never seem to work out. I’m on a self-imposed sabbatical, if you will.” Even in the dark, his smirk flared. “And I’m not about to fall off the wagon with you.”

Briana swung her legs out of the jeep and tested the ground for rocks with her bare toes. “Good, I feel better now.”

“I’m serious
.  Be careful over here. There are a ton of shells in the ground.” Nick disregarded her cynical look and wrapped his fingers around her arm to guide her towards the deck. He reached past her for the double doors, and ducked inside to flip on a lamp, bathing the cottage in a soft amber glow.

“You don’t lock the doors?”

“Most people don’t even notice the driveway. I don’t get many visitors.”

Briana stood just inside the entryway, taking in the polished wooden floorboards, balsa furniture
, and rattan fans. It was decent décor for a staid bachelor, a tag she placed on him after a quick glimpse of his ring finger. “That’s because your demeanor can be obtrusive at times.”

Nick’s back was to her as he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets and then tucked his long body down to search the refrigerator. He met her eyes over the rim of the door.

“Obtrusive, huh?”

“Mmmmm. But then you go and do or say something nice just to keep me off balance.”

“Is it working? Are you off balance?”

“I fell into your arms, didn’t I?” The comment was meant to be flippant, but it brought back the same intensity to his expression that she witnessed in the jeep.

“Beer, wine, guava juice or coffee?” His voice was gruff, distracted.

“Coffee,” she said. “But I’ll make it. You’ve got a lot of work to do, I imagine.”

Nick wavered, leaning his hip against the counter. Wrinkles of concentration flanked his eyes, and his mouth was set in a grim line as he measured her.

“You could have been seriously hurt out there.”

The grave look on his face was contagious. Briana sobered and recalled the sensation of the wave against the back of her legs, collapsing them. In a flash, the memory hurled her back in time as she struggled to stay above water, watching her parents tread only a few feet away, urging her to
kick
,
kick.

A wave came, and they were gone.

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt out there, Nick.” Her voice was hoarse. “Do what you have to do to ensure that.”

***
  

The drum of a keyboard, and Nick’s muttered exasperation enabled Briana to track him down to a cozy, but crammed den in the corner of the bungalow. This was perhaps the only spot without access to the lanai, and because of its limited windows, was cast in shadow. Only the glow of the computer monitors illuminated it.

Clearing her throat, she set the coffee mugs down on the vacant corner of his desk. Everything else was consumed with graphs, text books, and reams of notes.

Nick sat back. “Thanks.” He motioned with his hand. “Come here and take a look at this.” Stretching, he wheeled over another chair, as Briana slid into the narrow gap and tried not to notice her leg inadvertently brush against his.

“Did you find something?” She leaned forward, intrigued by the array of charts and simulations on the screen.

“There’s no record of unusual seismic activity.”

“Seismic activity!” She dipped closer to the lucent display. “It was just a wave. A small one. No one but us even noticed it.”

***

Nick laced his fingers together and watched Briana. Her face was aglow with the blue reflection of the monitor. Her hair tumbled forward, nearly obscuring his view. When she turned to look at him, he was rapt by the slanted azure eyes, trying to discount the very physical effect that gaze had on him.

“They noticed alright,” he
remarked. “The fishermen would have detected the anomaly, and many a tale of angered Gods are probably spinning in some of the seedier bars in Kaneohe right now. The point isn’t so much the size, but where it came from, and if more will return.”

Briana reached for the coffee mug and sipped from the steaming rim. “Why is it always about size with men?”

He laughed. “Ahh, actually I believe it’s always about size with
women
. But in this case we will have to ensure it
doesn’t
get bigger. It’s accepted that the North Shore will encounter anywhere from ten to forty foot waves, and knowing this, it’s accommodated for. But take waves of that impact on the Windward side, where the livelihood of many Hawaiians depends on the tranquility of the sea, and the tourists depend on gentle beaches for their children...”

Rubbing at the base of his skull, he sighed. “I know I’m getting carried away, but I don’t want any surprises, that’s all.”

“Okay, so what do we do?”

“We?” Shifting forward,
he brushed his calf against hers. The contact was kinetic.

“Don’t you see that by helping you find the source of the problem,” Briana declared. “I distract you from snooping around my site.”

It couldn’t be helped, his gaze dropped right into the collar of her silky blouse, and lower to the skirt that concealed only a third of her endless legs. “Oh, you distract me alright.”

He could hear her breath draw in. T
he sensuous sweep of her eyes produced effects that were becoming difficult to hide. In an attempt to do so, he grabbed his coffee cup and rested it atop his thigh.  Careful not to spill it, he wheeled towards a stack of pages droning out of the laser printer.

“Nothing
.
No volcanic activity, no underwater landslides. The weather checks out. There are no occurrences further out in the Pacific that would just be reaching us now, the ocean is—”

“A shrewd predator
.”

Nick’s chair tipped forward with a click. He watched her for a moment, and then said softly, “That’s an unusual depiction, care to elaborate?”

She shrugged to deflect the comment. Edgy, she searched the tight walls of the den, eluding his gaze.

Newspaper clippings, Geology and Earth Science degrees, and a lovely painting of Waimea at sunset spanned the wood-paneled wall. A beach in soft strokes of gold and peach seemed to come alive with the rustling sound of the banyan leaves outside. On the canvas, a figure was concealed within a thicket of arched coconut palms.

“The painting is beautiful, did you do that?” she asked.

Nick looked up at the artwork. “No. My mother did.”

Fascinated, she rose and traced her fingers along the redwood frame. “It’s beautiful. Has she done more?”

Bemused, he nodded. “There are a few in the living room.”

“Who’s the boy behind the trees?”

“You have good eyes.” He
was impressed. “Mom blended him with the shadows, secretive little devil that he was—always hiding when she called, always wanting to stay by the shore and watch the sun set, then wait and watch it rise again—”

“You.” It was a statement, not a guess, and Nick confirmed it with a tip of his head.

“Is she—where does she live?”

“Hawaii Kai. Got herself a fancy little condo—tons of friends. She’s sold enough of these to make herself comfortable.”

“That’s nice.” Briana turned around. “Your father—?”

“He passed away
last year.”

“I’m sorry.” She seemed earnest
.

“He was a good man,” Nick managed. “He came to Hawaii looking for peace, and he found my mother.”

That made her smile, but he could tell that the subject in general kicked up her anxiety. She switched her attention back to the walls and settled on the newspaper article regarding the landslide.

Geologist, presumed dead, located after two days, buried under avalanche
.

In the picture, Nick was stoic and grim
. Beside him was the striking portrait of the woman he was trying to exorcise.  Even in black and white she gleamed with glossy dark hair and olive skin. He watched Briana’s eyes coast over the caption beneath it.
Meleana Kane
. Meleana was listed as the sole survivor of a USGS Hazards Team sent to evaluate the slope stability of the Kohala Gulch.

“But—”
Briana protested as she read, “—but, she
wasn’t
the sole survivor? You are here.”

“I keep that clipping up there for a reason.”

She jolted, having been so engrossed she didn’t notice Nick standing behind her.

“And
that is?”

His smile was forced. “Old news, best left unspoken.”

Nick looked away from the article and straight into her eyes. Immediately his demeanor improved. “Come on, let’s go outside. It’s a beautiful evening. Let me show you my little slice of heaven.”

For a moment he could see the debate raging
behind her gaze as if she were calculating her inevitable denial. It bothered him that she was plotting her excuse to leave because he
really
wanted her to stay.

“Heaven?
” she smiled. “That’s a bold testimony.”

She wasn’t leaving!

“Then let’s see if it lives up to it.”

***
  

With his back against the coarse bark of a coconut palm, one ankle idly hooked across the other, Nick watched Briana. She was scoring lines in the sand with her toes.
Following her movements—the way she splayed her fingers for balance and laughed when she nearly lost it—Nick felt something close to contentment.

“Do you like the ocean?”

“I love the ocean,” she gushed, not looking at him, but out towards the water.

A silver path cast by the moon seemed so real that one could simply step out and follow it to Oz.

“But you’re afraid of it?”

Briana spun around, her eyes narrowing. “Why would you say that?”

“The way you approach it. I saw it the day I met you on the beach. You hovered just at the spot where the foam crested on dry sand, like you’re doing now.”

“I had to go back to work,” she argued. “I couldn’t go frolicking through the waves.”

Now that was an interesting image.

Shoulder hitched against the tree, Nick crossed his arms and contemplated the mystical creature bathed in moonlight. She looked trapped, and her wary gaze jumped anywhere possible to avoid his.

“It was in your eyes, Briana,” he whispered. “The moment that wave touched you, it was in your eyes.”

In a casual motion, he shoved off the arched trunk and approached her. Moving in close, he reached out to trace Briana’s arms
and felt a tremble charge through her.

Hooking a finger under her chin, he gently tipped her head back. Anxious and sensuous, her gaze held his, watching him, awaiting his next move. When her lips parted on a breath, he nearly groaned aloud, such was his desire to kiss her.

Every inch of him was growing taut with need as his hand climbed to cup her cheek, and his thumb skimmed her bottom lip. She gasped, but he paid no heed. Instead, he reached up and combed through her hair, dismantling the ponytail and watching in fascination as the silky strands splayed across his fingertips, like extensions of moonbeams.

Immersed in those soft tendrils, his fingers clenched as he fought for control.
God, she was beautiful
. How simple it would be to just dip his head and touch her lips, and sate the desire that was tormenting him. Maybe he could even convince Briana to spend the night. But in the morning, he would turn her away, and neither would feel the better for it.

Grudgingly, he released her lustrous mane and trailed his hand down her arm until it blended with her fingers.

“Come on, let’s get our feet wet,” he prompted in a husky voice.

***

Snared in a layer of goosebumps, Briana didn’t even attempt to talk. Instead, she shook her head in firm denial.