Island of Flowers Read online

  “That’s right.” She could see no change of expression in his eyes.

  “And my father’s house?” Laine swallowed the dryness building in her throat. “Is that also on your property?”

  She saw annoyance cross his face before he smoothed it away. His answer was mild. “Cap had a fondness for that strip of land, so he bought it.”

  “From you?”

  “Yes, from me. Is that a problem?”

  “No,” she replied. “It’s simply that I begin to see things more clearly. Much more clearly.” Laine set down her drink and folded her empty hands. “It appears that you are more my father’s son than I shall ever be his daughter.”

  “Laine …” Dillon let out a short breath, then rose and paced the room with a sudden restlessness. “Cap and I understand each other. We’ve known each other for nearly fifteen years. He’s been part of my life for almost half of it.”

  “I’m not asking you for justifications, Dillon. I’m sorry if it seemed as if I were.” Laine stood, trying to keep her voice steady. “When I return to France next week, it will be good to know that my father has you to rely on.”

  “Next week?” Dillon stopped pacing. “You’re planning to leave next week?”

  “Yes.” Laine tried not to think of how quickly seven days could pass. “We agreed I would stay for two weeks. It’s time I got back to my own life.”

  “You’re hurt because Cap hasn’t responded to you the way you’d hoped.”

  Surprised both by his words and the gentleness of his tone, Laine felt the thin thread of her control straining. She struggled to keep her eyes calm and level with his. “I have changed my mind … on a great many matters. Please don’t, Dillon.” She shook her head as he started to speak. “I would rather not talk of this; it’s only more difficult.”

  “Laine.” He placed his hands on her shoulders to prevent her from turning away. “There are a lot of things that you and I have to talk about, whether they’re difficult or not. You can’t keep shutting away little parts of yourself. I want…” The ringing of the doorbell interrupted his words. With a quick, impatient oath, he dropped his hands and strode away to answer.

  A light, musical voice drifted into the room. When Orchid King entered the parlor on Dillon’s arm, Laine met her with a polite smile.

  It struck Laine that Orchid and Dillon were a perfectly matched couple. Orchid’s tawny, exotic beauty suited his ruggedness, and her fully rounded curves were all the more stunning against his leanness. Her hair fell in an ebony waterfall, cascading down a smooth bare back to the waist of close-fitting pumpkin-colored shorts. Seeing her, Laine felt dowdy and provincial.

  “Hello, Miss Simmons.” Orchid tightened her hand on Dillon’s arm. “How nice to see you again so soon.”

  “Hello, Miss King.” Annoyed by her own insecurities, Laine met Orchid’s amusement with eyes of a cool spring morning. “You did say the island was small.”

  “Yes, I did.” She smiled, and Laine was reminded of a tawny cat. “I hope you’ve been able to see something of it.”

  “I took Laine around a bit this morning.” Watching Laine, Dillon missed the flash of fire in Orchid’s amber eyes.

  “I’m sure she couldn’t find a better guide.” Orchid’s expression melted into soft appeal. “I’m so glad you were home, Dillon. I wanted to make certain you’d be at the luau tomorrow night.” Turning more directly to face him, she subtly but effectively excluded Laine from the conversation. “It wouldn’t be any fun without you.”

  “I’ll be there.” Laine watched a smile lift one corner of his mouth. “Are you going to dance?”

  “Of course.” The soft purr of her voice added to Laine’s image of a lithesome feline. “Tommy expects it.”

  Dillon’s smile flashed into a grin. He lifted his eyes over Orchid’s head to meet Laine’s. “Tommy is Miri’s nephew. He’s having his annual luau tomorrow. You should find both the food and the entertainment interesting.”

  “Oh, yes,” Orchid agreed. “No tourist should leave the islands without attending a luau. Do you plan to see the other islands during your vacation?”

  “I’m afraid that will have to wait for another time. I’m sorry to say I haven’t lived up to my obligations as a tourist. The purpose of my visit has been to see my father and his home.”

  Somewhat impatiently, Dillon disengaged his arm from Orchid’s grasp. “I have to see my foreman. Why don’t you keep Laine company for a few minutes?”

  “Certainly.” Orchid tossed a lock of rain-straight hair behind her back. “How are the repairs coming?”

  “Fine. I should be able to move back in a couple of days without being in the way.” With an inclination of his head for Laine, he turned and strode from the room.

  “Miss Simmons, do make yourself at home.” Assuming the role of hostess with a graceful wave of her hand, Orchid glided farther into the room. “Would you care for anything? A cold drink perhaps?”

  Infuriated at being placed in the position of being Orchid’s guest, Laine forced down her temper. “Thank you, no. Dillon has already seen to it.”

  “It seems you spend a great deal of time in Dillon’s company,” Orchid commented as she dropped into a chair. She crossed long, slender legs, looking like an advertisement for Hawaii’s lush attractions. “Especially for one who comes to visit her father.”

  “Dillon has been very generous with his time.” Laine copied Orchid’s action and hoped she was equipped for a feminine battle of words.

  “Oh, yes, Dillon’s a generous man.” Her smile was indulgent and possessive. “It’s quite easy to misinterpret his generosity unless one knows him as well as I do. He can be so charming.”

  “Charming?” Laine repeated, and looked faintly skeptical. “How odd. Charming is not the adjective which comes to my mind. But then,” she paused and smiled, “you know him better than I do.”

  Orchid placed the tips of her fingers together, then regarded Laine over the tips. “Miss Simmons, maybe we can dispense with the polite small talk while we have this time alone.”

  Wondering if she was sinking over her head, Laine nodded. “Your option, Miss King.”

  “I intend to marry Dillon.”

  “A formidable intention,” Laine managed as her heart constricted. “I assume Dillon is aware of your goal.”

  “Dillon knows I want him.” Irritation flickered over the exotic face at Laine’s easy answer. “I don’t appreciate all the time you’ve been spending with him.”

  “That’s a pity, Miss King.” Laine picked up her long-abandoned glass and sipped. “But don’t you think you’re discussing this with the wrong person? I’m sure speaking to Dillon would be more productive.”

  “I don’t believe that’s necessary.” Orchid gave Laine a companionable smile, showing just a hint of white teeth. “I’m sure we can settle this between us. Don’t you think telling Dillon you wanted to learn to fly a plane was a little trite?”

  Laine felt a flush of fury that Dillon had discussed her with Orchid. “Trite?”

  Orchid made an impatient gesture. “Dillon’s diverted by you at the moment, perhaps because you’re such a contrast to the type of woman he’s always preferred. But the milk-and-honey looks won’t keep Dillon interested for long.” The musical voice hardened. “Cool sophistication doesn’t keep a man warm, and Dillon is very much a man.”

  “Yes, he’s made that very clear,” Laine could not resist interjecting.

  “I’m warning you … once,” Orchid hissed. “Keep your distance. I can make things very uncomfortable for you.”

  “I’m sure you can,” Laine acknowledged. She shrugged. “I’ve been uncomfortable before.”

  “Dillon can be very vindictive when he thinks he’s being deceived. You’re going to end up losing more than you bargained for.”

  “Nom de Dieu!” Laine rose. “Is this how the game is played?” She made a contemptuous gesture with the back of her hand. “I want none of it. Snarling and hissing like
two cats over a mouse. This isn’t worthy of Dillon.”

  “We haven’t started to play yet.” Orchid sat back, pleased by Laine’s agitation. “If you don’t like the rules, you’d better leave. I don’t intend to put up with you any longer.”

  “Put up with me?” Laine stopped, her voice trembling with rage. “No one, Miss King, no one puts up with me. You hardly need concern yourself with a woman who will be gone in a week’s time. Your lack of confidence is as pitiful as your threats.” Orchid rose at that, her fists clenched by her sides.

  “What do you want from me?” Laine demanded. “Do you want my assurance that I won’t interfere with your plans? Very well, I give it freely and with pleasure. Dillon is yours.”

  “That’s generous of you.” Spinning, Laine saw Dillon leaning against the doorway. His arms were crossed, his eyes dangerously dark.

  “Oh, Dillon, how quick you were.” Orchid’s voice was faint.

  “Apparently not quick enough.” His eyes were locked on Laine’s. “What’s the problem?”

  “Just a little feminine talk, Dillon.” Recovered, Orchid glided to his side. “Laine and I were just getting to know each other.”

  “Laine, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing important. If it’s convenient, I should like to go back now.” Without waiting for a reply, Laine picked up her bag and moved to the doorway.

  Dillon halted her by a hand on her arm. “I asked you a question.”

  “And I have given you the only answer I intend to give.” She wrenched free and faced him. “I will not be questioned any longer. You have no right to question me; I am nothing to you. You have no right to criticize me as you have done from the first moment. You have no right to judge.” The anger in her tone was now laced with despair. “You have no right to make love to me just because it amuses you.”

  She ran in a flurry of flying skirts, and he watched the door slam behind her.

  Chapter Ten

  Laine spent the rest of the day in her room. She attempted not to dwell on the scene in Dillon’s home, or on the silent drive which followed it. She was not sure which had been more draining. It occurred to her that she and Dillon never seemed to enjoy a cordial relationship for more than a few hours at a time. It was definitely time to leave. She began to plan for her return to France. Upon a review of her finances, she discovered that she had barely enough for a return ticket.

  It would, she realized with a sigh, leave her virtually penniless. Her own savings had been sorely dented in dealing with her mother’s debts, and plane fare had eaten at what remained. She could not, she determined, return to France without a franc in her pocket. If there was a complication of any kind, she would be helpless to deal with it. Why didn’t I stop to think, before I came here? she demanded of herself. Now I’ve placed myself in an impossible situation.

  Sitting on the bed, Laine rubbed an aching temple and tried to think. She didn’t want to ask her father for money. Pride prevented her from wiring to any friends to ask for a loan. She stared down at the small pile of bills in frustration. They won’t proliferate of their own accord, she reflected, so I must plan how to increase their number.

  She moved to her dresser and opened a small box. For some minutes, she studied the gold locket it contained. It had been a gift from her father to her mother, and Vanessa had given it to her on her sixteenth birthday. She remembered the pleasure she had felt upon receiving something, however indirectly, from her father. She had worn it habitually until she had dressed for her flight to Hawaii. Feeling it might cause her father pain, Laine had placed it in its box, hoping that unhappy memories would be buried. It was the only thing of value she owned, and now she had to sell it.

  Her door swung open. Laine held the box behind her back. Miri glided in, a swirling mountain of color. She regarded Laine’s flushed face with raised brows.

  “Did you mess something up?”

  “No.”

  “Then don’t look guilty. Here.” She laid a sheath of brilliant blue and sparkling white on the bedspread. “It’s for you. You wear this to the luau tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” Laine stared at the exquisite length of silk, already feeling its magic against her skin. “It’s beautiful. I couldn’t.” She raised her eyes to Miri’s with a mixture of desire and regret. “I couldn’t take it.”

  “You don’t like my present?” Miri demanded imperiously. “You are very rude.”

  “Oh, no.” Struck with alarm at the unintentional offense, Laine fumbled with an explanation. “It’s beautiful … really. It’s only that …”

  “You should learn to say thank-you and not argue. This will suit your skinny bones.” Miri gave a nod of satisfaction encompassing both the woman and the silk. “Tomorrow, I will show you how to wrap it.”

  Unable to prevent herself, Laine moved over to feel the cool material under her fingers. The combination of longing and Miri’s dark, arched brows proved too formidable for pride. She surrendered with a sigh. “Thank you, Miri. It’s very good of you.”

  “That’s much better,” Miri approved and patted Laine’s halo of curls. “You are a pretty child. You should smile more. When you smile, the sadness goes away.”

  Feeling the small box weighing like a stone in her hand, Laine held it up and opened it. “Miri, I wonder if you might tell me where I could sell this.”

  One large brown finger traced the gold before Miri’s jet eyes lifted. Laine saw the now familiar pucker between her brows. “Why do you want to sell a pretty thing like this? You don’t like it?”

  “No, no, I like it very much.” Helpless under the direct stare, Laine moved her shoulders. “I need the money.”

  “Money? Why do you need money?”

  “For my passage and expenses … to return to France.”

  “You don’t like Kauai?” Her indignant tone caused Laine to smile and shake her head.

  “Kauai is wonderful; I’d like nothing better than to stay here forever. But I must get back to my job.”

  “What do you do in that place?” Miri dismissed France with a regal gesture and settled her large frame into a chair. She folded her hands across the mound of her belly.

  “I teach.” Laine sat on the bed and closed the lid on the face of the locket.

  “Don’t they pay you to teach?” Miri pursed her lips in disapproval. “What did you do with your money?”

  Laine flushed, feeling like a child who had been discovered spending her allowance on candy. “There … there were debts, and I …”

  “You have debts?”

  “Well, no, I … not precisely.” Laine’s shoulders drooped with frustration. Seeing Miri was prepared to remain a permanent fixture of her room until she received an explanation, Laine surrendered. Slowly, she began to explain the financial mountain which she had faced at her mother’s death, the necessity to liquidate assets, the continuing drain on her own resources. In the telling, Laine felt the final layers of her resentment fading. Miri did not interrupt the recital, and Laine found that confession had purged her of bitterness.

  “Then, when I found my father’s address among her personal papers, I took what I had left and came here. I’m afraid I didn’t plan things well, and in order to go back…” She shrugged again and trailed off. Miri nodded.

  “Why have you not told Cap Simmons? He would not have his daughter selling her baubles. He’s a good man, he would not have you in a strange country counting your pennies.”

  “He doesn’t owe me anything.”

  “He is your father,” Miri stated, lifting her chin and peering at Laine down her nose.

  “But he’s not responsible for a situation brought on by Vanessa’s carelessness and my own impulsiveness. He would think … No.” She shook her head. “I don’t want him to know. It’s very important to me that he not know. You must promise not to speak of this to him.”

  “You are a very stubborn girl.” Miri crossed her arms and glared at Laine. Laine kept her eyes level. “Very well.” Miri’s
bosom lifted and fell with her sigh. “You must do what you must do. Tomorrow, you will meet my nephew, Tommy. Ask him to come look at your bauble. He is a jeweler and will give you a fair price.”

  “Thank you, Miri.” Laine smiled, feeling a portion of her burden ease.

  Miri rose, her muumuu trembling at the movement. “You had a nice day with Dillon?”

  “We went by his home,” Laine returned evasively. “It’s very impressive.”

  “Very nice place,” Miri agreed and brushed an infinitesimal speck of dust from the chair’s back. “My cousin cooks there, but not so well as Miri.”

  “Miss King dropped by.” Laine strove for a casual tone, but Miri’s brows rose.

  “Hmph.” Miri stroked the tentlike lines of her flowered silk.