Page 4 of His Hawaiian Heart
“Thanks for the intervention, but I think you’ve got the wrong Sam.”
He just smiled and reached past me to pull open the back passenger door. “I don’t believe I do. Mrs. Blackwell is seldom wrong on these matters.” He waved his hand toward the interior of the limo.
“I don’t know any Mrs. Blackwell,” I said. I should never have surrendered my suitcase. Even if I had to leave it behind, there was no way in hell I was getting into any car even if it came with its very own driver. A chauffeur’s uniform could be found in any costume store. Granted, a stretch limo was a harder prop to find, but, hey, no one ever said serial killers couldn’t be classy.
“I’ll take my suitcase, please.”
He ignored my hand reaching for the handle of the suitcase. “Perhaps I should have said the ride is compliments of Ms. Harriett?”
At the name, I hesitated and he smiled and lifted his free hand to a height that barely reached his waist. “Woman about this tall? Hair whiter than snow and has a smile that lights up her whole face? Doesn’t hesitate to speak her mind or offer a hug? Does that ring any bells?”
“It does, but why would she do this? We don’t know each other.”
He gave the slightest rise of his shoulders. “I can’t say, other than the fact she’s one hell of a woman. Now, please, allow me to drive you to your hotel.”
Even though I dropped my hand, he evidently knew I still wasn’t quite convinced.
“Honestly, you’d be doing me a big favor. I’d hate to disappoint a sweet old woman by telling her you turned her kindness down. If you’d prefer, I’ll escort you to a taxi.”
I laughed and didn’t even care when it was joined by a very unladylike snort. “Good grief, I’d like to say that smooth-talking won’t get you anywhere, but seeing as how I really enjoyed meeting Mrs. Blackwell, and the fact that I’m pretty wiped out, I will accept on one condition.”
“I promise I have no ill intentions,” he said, all levity gone from his tone.
“Oh, I didn’t think you did. I just meant it would be a waste of your time and gas money if you don’t know the island as well as one of those taxi drivers.”
“I assure you, I know my way around.”
“Good,” I said as I moved to slip into the car. “In that case, I’m at the jungle spot.”
His confident smile wavered. “Excuse me? Maybe I spoke too soon. I’m not aware of a resort of that name.”
I laughed. “Not surprised. Sorry, my fault. It’s not a resort, but it’s exactly what it sounds like. A spot in the jungle. I’m joining my research team. We’re camping in Waimea Canyon, off Kokee Road.”
“Ahh, I see. In that case, we’re good to go. I believe you’d be more comfortable without the backpack?”
I hesitated but finally decided he was unlikely to steal a ratty backpack. “Thanks.” I slipped it off my shoulders and let him take it as well.
“Just sit back and enjoy the ride. You’ll find refreshments just there.” He leaned in to gesture at a panel in front of me. When he pushed a button, a door slid open to reveal rows of shelves that held a variety of drinks as well as a bin holding different types of fruits and cheeses.
“Wow, that’s pretty amazing.”
“It is indeed.” He grinned as he withdrew and had the door halfway closed when he pulled it open once more. “Sorry, one more thing.”
Darn it, I knew this lap of luxury wouldn’t last long, but I’d figured we’d at least pull away from the curb. I drew my hand back from the offered snacks and waited as he disappeared. I saw the front passenger door open and close before he reappeared and I understood the source of the floral aroma that filled the car.
“Oh, wow,” I said for the second time.
“Aloha, Sam.”
I bent my head so he could drape the lei over it. The flowers not only smelled incredible, they were gorgeous. I smiled widely. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He withdrew, this time shutting the door.
I heard the trunk open and then shut after he’d stowed my suitcase and backpack. As he slid into the driver’s seat, I asked, “Can I get you something?”
He turned, looking a bit surprised so I clarified, “Would you like a soda or water or maybe some mango?” I held up a bottle of water and a container of fruit.
He chuckled. “I’m more of a flat-water kind of guy and that’s not mango. It’s papaya.”
