Authors: Maureen Willett
“What’s the matter?” Malia asked as she stopped and looked down at him. “Can’t think of a lie fast enough?”
Hunter took a deep breath. “Something like that.” He didn’t know what else to say.
Malia threw the cotton ball in the trash and turned to storm out of the bathroom in one quick motion, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her down on his lap instead, then wrapped his arms around her. Malia struggled to break free but then gave up; she was no match for his strength. He wanted to see what was in her eyes, but she purposely faced away from him, letting her silky hair brush against his face.
“Stop. Just stop,” he said in the calmest voice he could muster. “Why is it I have to explain every move to you? Why can’t you just trust that I love you and there are some things I can’t share with you yet? I will tell you everything. . . eventually.” He didn’t want to lie to her, but he couldn’t tell her the truth. She most certainly wouldn’t love him if she knew. And if she didn’t love him, he couldn’t do what had to be done.
“How can I trust you when you keep me at arm’s length with your lies?”
Hunter could hear the confusion and hurt in Malia’s voice, which set off a riot of pain in his heart. He turned her around so she sat sideways, and he could see most of her bewitching face. “If you want to know all there is, beautiful girl, then I will tell you.” His voice shook with fear of what she might think of him if the truth were told.
A loud knock at the door made them both jump. “Your detective’s here, Li Li,” Lani called from the other side of the door. Malia didn’t make a move to get up.
“Why did you call the police?” he asked.
“I called a friend,” Malia answered. “I was scared. Some guy with blond hair was standing on the corner watching the shop all morning, right after what Auntie Jenna told me. Even if she was seeing things, it’s still a little strange.”
She relaxed against him and stroked the arms that wound around her, which made his heart pump faster. His hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they found their way to her thighs under her short skirt, and then moved upward to pull her panties out of the way. He couldn’t help himself. To be near her, to touch her, was all he wanted. Just as he was about to find the desired spot under her skirt, Malia pulled his hands away.
“I have to get out there,” she said with a soft gasp. She stood up but laid her lips on his at the same time. Her hands engulfed his face, and her mane of hair surrounded him, smelling like fresh, island flowers.
“Just stay a minute longer. I’ll make it worth your while.” Hunter’s heart pounded in his ears, and he knew his eyes were begging her to comply as he put his hands up her skirt once more.
“You’ve got a one-track mind,” she teased with a smile. Malia kissed his forehead near the scrape, and then she stepped away toward the door.
“I can’t help it. Near you is where I need to be,” Hunter said, as she left the small bathroom. He frowned as dread filled his heart. She was suspicious of him, which meant it was time for him to make a move. He knew what he wanted, but he just wasn’t sure if it was fair to Malia. It would change her life, forever. Hunter wished he were stronger; he wished he could live without her. He wished he didn’t covet what she possessed, but he had to have it.
Malia straightened her dress, not wanting to look disheveled. She should stay mad at Hunter and make him tell her the truth, but it was impossible to focus on that when he was near. Too many other things got in the way of being rational: his liquid pools of violet, and his tender way of touching her, to name just two. She stood with her hand on the doorknob of the bathroom, tempted to go back in to get immersed in the pleasure of him. Just take one step away from where he is, and you’ll be fine, she told herself. Sanity will return. She put on a smile and walked toward Ryan, who was waiting in the corner of the shop, trying to look as if he belonged there but failing miserably.
“I came as soon as I got your message,” he said with furrowed brows. “It sounded like an emergency.”
“I know. I think I let my imagination run away with me. I thought someone was watching me, of all things.” Worry came through in her voice, so she tried to cover it up with a laugh. “Some guy stood on the corner and stared at the shop all morning, but he’s gone now, so it was probably nothing.”
“Someone you know, or a stranger?” Ryan put his hands on her shoulders.
“No, no one I know. The weird part is that he had white blond hair, and my neighbor mentioned that she had seen a man hanging around my house with blond hair, and I don’t know anyone like that. Probably just a coincidence, though.”
“Maybe, but it seems odd to me.” Ryan stopped and looked over her shoulder with a curious look.
Malia turned to see Hunter standing there looking at Ryan with a cold, challenging stare. His warm violet eyes had turned to ice, and the aggressive expression on his face was almost frightening. “Oh, Hunter, this is Detective Ryan Green. Ryan, this is my tenant, Hunter.”
Hunter’s eyebrows went up at her introduction, making her wonder what he was thinking. How else was she supposed to introduce him?
“Nice to meet you,” Ryan said with a nod, but he wasn’t smiling and didn’t offer Hunter his hand.
Hunter just nodded back without taking his eyes off Ryan.
She turned back to Ryan. “Let me walk you to your car, so we can talk,” she said, ushering him toward the front door. She glanced back at Hunter and gave him a pointed stare. She wondered why he was being so rude, but Hunter seemed oblivious to her signal. His eyes fixed on Ryan as the detective went out to the sidewalk and leaned against his sedan with a flashing blue light on top. Hunter made a move to follow.
Malia held up her hand like a stop sign. “Just give me a minute,” she said.
“Okay, you have a minute. But take longer than that, and I’m coming out.”
She shot Hunter another pointed stare, and then went outside to where Ryan waited. She looked around at the sidewalk filled with people.
“Who is that?” Ryan asked, looking toward Hunter, who watched them through the large window.
“I told you, my tenant.”
“He rents a room from you?”
“A studio apartment downstairs, below my house,”
Ryan gave her his full attention. “Have you known him for long?”
“No, he just moved in last week.”
“So you did a background check on him before you rented him your studio?”
“Uhh.” She looked away, not wanting this conversation to go much further. “No.”
“Malia,” Ryan scolded with a shake of his head. “Obviously this guy wants to be more than just your tenant. Do you know anything about him? Where he works?”
She took a deep breath and didn’t answer. When was that coveted sanity returning, she wondered.
“You had him fill out an application, didn’t you?”
“No,” she said with a weak shake of her head.
Ryan stared at her for a moment and then pulled a small notebook out of his pocket. “Okay, so I’ll run a check on him.”
“No, don’t do that.”
“You’re feeling like you’re being watched. You think someone might be hanging around your house when you’re not there. And a total stranger you know nothing about is living downstairs. Which of these is the bigger threat? Or, maybe they’re all related. Am I on the right track, here?” His tone was accusatory and protective at the same time.
She nodded, realizing he was being logical, and this was how she should be thinking. Yet it just didn’t feel right to go behind Hunter’s back. Against all logic, she was sure she could trust him.
“He sounds foreign. Did you get a copy of his passport?”
Malia shook her head. Ryan looked at her like she was an idiot.
“Okay, so, what’s his full name?” Ryan had his pencil poised. “You know that, don’t you?”
She stood there for a moment, wondering what to do and then turned away from the shop so Hunter couldn’t see what she was saying to the detective. “Hunter Blackthorne. He said he’s from Great Britain.”
“That could be many places,” Ryan said with a snort of a laugh and a roll of his eyes as he wrote on the notepad. “Doesn’t matter. I can run an international check.”
She glanced toward the shop window. Hunter still stood there watching them. A pang of guilt shot through her.
“Don’t look so worried,” Ryan said with some sympathy. “If he’s clean, I won’t find anything on him. But if not, I’ll know that right away. So, describe the guy you saw on the street today.”
She spent a couple minutes giving a description while trying not to look in the direction of the shop.
“Okay, I’ll get back to you as soon as I know anything,” Ryan said as he walked to the driver’s side of the sedan. “In the meantime, I can send someone out to check on your house and talk to your neighbor about what she saw.”
Malia shook her head. “I think she was imagining things. She’s elderly and not always there.”
“Okay, but I’ll send a squad car to your neighborhood a few times a day to make sure no one is hanging around.” He stopped before getting into the car. “Please be careful, Malia, and call me anytime.”
She nodded and tried to smile as she walked back into the shop to face Hunter. The air felt stifling and constrictive. “What has gotten in to you?” she asked as the door shut behind her.
The sternness of Hunter’s face had softened, but his stance was still ready for fight. “That guy is no friend to you.”
“What?”
“The things going through his mind about you were not decent.”
“Oh, really,” she said as guilt about checking Hunter’s background turned toward anger. “I thought you didn’t read minds.”
“I couldn’t help but pick up on his thoughts. They were blaring in my ears every time he looked at you.”
Malia put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him. Jealousy was not something she wanted in any relationship. During her marriage, she and Alex constantly fought about his insane jealousy whenever she had talked to another guy. “So he likes me. No biggie. Stop being so insecure.”
“You don’t understand. There’s a reason he’s a policeman. He likes violence, especially in the bedroom.”
“What?”
“When you had dinner with him the other night, he deliberately told you things to scare you. He got off on it,” Hunter said in a serious tone. “I don’t care what happens between you and me, or whether you trust me or not. Stay away from him. He will hurt you, and I don’t mean in the emotional sense.” Hunter turned away and went into the back room, leaving her standing there with her mouth hanging open.
She looked toward the street with curious eyes but then followed Hunter into the back.
Hunter didn’t move when she walked into the shadowy room; he sat with his head in his hands, looking down at the scuffed hardwood floor. Malia sat down at the desk and turned on the computer, deluding herself into thinking she could get caught up on paperwork, but it was difficult to concentrate on anything with him sulking in the corner. She glanced over at him.
“I wish you had a little more trust in me,” Hunter said without looking at her.
“Since you can read my thoughts, you should know that I do trust you, even when all logic tells me not to,” she said. He didn’t respond, so she set her eyes on the wall in front of her. “But then reason doesn’t have much to do with the way you feel about someone, does it? You could make an instant connection with someone you meet, and even if you barely know him, you might think he was worthy of your trust. Even if all sorts of red flags go up, and logic tells you to steer clear of him, you might find yourself unable to stay way.”
Hunter looked up at her. She was surprised to see depths of sadness and happiness mixed in his eyes and in the angular lines of his face. “Do you love me?” he asked in a voice choked with tenderness and tears.
“I. . . .” she hesitated, not sure how she felt. It surprised her that she would even consider her feelings for Hunter as being love after only a few days. “I don’t know. I mean I don’t know about love, really, whether it can actually exist between two people and be a good thing. That seems to be an illusive myth. But I suppose if I did believe in love, I might think I’d want to be in love with you. That’s if I believed in such things.” She held her breath, hearing her heart pound in her ears, and waited for him to say something. He looked frozen, suspended in time, and she wondered if he was going to bolt out the door again. But then Hunter smiled that gorgeous, crooked smile, and she could breathe again.
He came over to where she sat, knelt down and took her hands in his. He bent and kissed her hands, letting his lips linger in a soft caress. “When you are ready to be in love, my heart will be waiting,” he said in a silky voice.
His sweet smell filled her senses as she touched his lips with her own. The contact was electric, setting off fires throughout her body, and his mouth filled hers with an intense longing, as each curve of his full, luscious lips possessed hers. She soaked in every taste of him and planted her fingers in his mass of wild hair, wanting to claim him. They both slid to the ground as his hands went up her skirt again. This time she didn’t pull away, and instead gasped with passion at his touch. She wanted more of him, so her hand went to the buttons of his jeans.
“Not yet, not like this,” Hunter said as he moved her hand away. Yet he kept his intimate caress going under her skirt as he kissed her neck. “Let me please you. That’s all I want. To touch you in some way.” His voice sounded soft and raspy.
Malia’s trembling became uncontrollable bursts of light and energy throughout her body, and she had to make a conscious effort not to scream out and let everyone in the shop know what they were doing. She dug her hands deeper into his mass of hair and let the shuddering sensation take hold of every part of her while the pain turned into pure pleasure.
He held her until her trembling stopped, and then she went limp in his arms.
They stayed entwined, unable to speak for quite some time, their hearts beating together furiously. The faint ringing of the bell above the front door brought Malia back to reality with the notion someone could walk in on them. Quickly, she pulled her skirt down over her thighs.