Paradise Wild Read online

  I have no doubt that this is the Samuel Barrows you wished to locate. If I can serve you further, I am at your disposal.

  Your servant, Ned Dougherty

  Jared put the letter in the pocket of his white tropical suit as the carriage halted on Fort Street. He looked up at the old two-storied pink building, badly in need of paint. But it looked no worse than the other buildings lining the street in this old section of the city.

  Edmond Burkett's office was on the second floor, and Jared climbed the stairs slowly, dreading the encounter be­fore him. There was no love lost between uncle and nephew. For as long as Jared could remember, his uncle had been a stranger to his family. Jared had been seven years old be­fore he met Edmond Burkett, though they lived less than a mile apart. But he knew the reason why Edmond would not associate with his relatives on the island. It was Jared's mother.

  Edmond had not been able to adjust to the mixed na­tionalities of the islands. A man of bitter prejudices, he never forgave Rodney for marrying a woman with Hawai­ian blood, even though very little of it still remained in her. His dislike for Ranelle extended to her children, and to Jared in particular because of the boy's pride in his heritage. Though Rodney and Edmond were reconciled after Ra-nelle's death, Edmond would still have nothing to do with her children. Jared and Malia returned Edmond's animosity.

  Now, however, Jared was an equal partner with Edmond in the loan company, and was forced to associate with him. Each of them made an effort to put up a good front. In fact, Jared took particular pleasure in sometimes being overly friendly, knowing how this rankled his churlish uncle.

  The secretary in Edmond's outer office smiled brightly when Jared came in. Jane Dearing was an unmarried young woman, recently arrived from New York. She had a special interest in Jared Burkett. Jared's rugged, dark hand­someness made heads turn. His gray-blue eyes contrasted startlingly with his black hair. Jared was very tall, six feet two inches, with a firm, athletic body. Jane was envious of Dayna Callan, the woman he most frequently escorted about the city. So were a great many women. Dayna and Jared had been friends since childhood, and it was assumed that they would marry eventually. But the women of the city were not ready to give up on Jared. Jane Dearing wasn't either.

  "Mr. Burkett." Jane's blue eyes sparkled. "It's such a pleasure to see you."

  Her interest was obvious and Jared smiled uncomfort­ably. "Is my uncle in, Miss Dearing?"

  "Yes, but he is with Mr. Carlstead right now. The poor man came to see him about an extension on his loan. His tobacco crop wasn't very good this year, I'm afraid."

  Jared frowned. Lloyd Carlstead was a good sort, a Swede with a large family of youngsters and a plump, kind-hearted wife. Their small farm barely supported them, but it was on prime land near the city, land Jared knew his uncle would be interested in. Edmond probably would foreclose.

  It was well-known that the Burketts did not see eye to eye on running the company. But Jared had relinquished the responsibility of management to Edmond, since his in­terests were elsewhere. And it did no good to argue for the individual Edmond caused to go bankrupt, for he would always end the argument with, "Either devote your time fully to this company, sell out to me, or abide by my deci­sions!"

  Soon, Lloyd Carlstead rushed out of Edmond's office, his hands clenched, his face beet-red. He passed Jared without even seeing him and ran down the outer stairs to the street. Jared gritted his teeth. The poor man was probably ruined, and all because he had had the poor judgement to come to Edmond Burkett for a loan.

  But Jared could not fight someone else's battles today. He needed his uncle's cooperation now, and perhaps some of his money—though he would not ask for it. He hoped Lloyd Carlstead would find help elsewhere.

  "I'll just go on in, Miss Dearing," Jared said lightly. "No need to announce me."

  "Certainly, Mr. Burkett. I'm sure your uncle will be de­lighted to see you."

  Jared smiled at that. Miss Dearing really did try too hard. He really should take her out to dinner some night, let her find out just how hopeless it was to please him. Then she would turn tail and run. It would be the best thing for her.

  Jared strolled casually into his uncle's cool office and closed the door. With windows open wide on both sides of the large room and fans revolving continuously over­head, it really was a pleasant room. Edmond liked to dis­play his wealth, and he did that in his office. Surprisingly, the plush furniture and thick carpeting did not take away from the cool effect.

  "How's business, Uncle?" Jared began. Edmond's self-satisfied smirk was his answer.

  "Good, good. And I hear you're not doing too badly yourself," Edmond said expansively, and motioned Jared to one of the chairs across from his desk. "The contract you won for that new hotel in Waikiki—now, that was a pretty deal. I always encouraged Rodney to build hotels, but he wasn't up to the challenge, preferring to stick to houses and small stores. You don't get your name remem­bered that way."

  "That wasn't exactly why I went after the hotel job," Jared replied, his gray-blue eyes unreadable. "It means a lot of work for my men over an extended period of time."

  "Of course. They'll get lazy if you don't keep them busy."

  "No," Jared said coldly. "I don't happen to have that problem."

  "Then you're more fortunate than the rest of us," Ed­mond laughed derisively.

  Jared wasn't about to argue. His uncle was set in his beliefs that all Hawaiians were lazy, good-for-nothings. That was ridiculous, but you couldn't tell Edmond anything.

  "What brings you here, Jared?" Edmond asked. "Any­thing important?"

  The older man leaned back in his chair. The resemblance between Edmond and his father always amazed Jared. Ed­mond was forty-seven now, with dark blue eyes and sandy brown hair without a trace of gray. He was six feet tall.

  "I'm taking a vacation, Uncle." Jared came out with it smoothly. "I thought you'd like to know."

  "That's nothing new," Edmond said blandly. "You take off every year to the beach during the hottest summer months, just like your father did. Can't say I blame you, though. If I owned land over there, I'd do the same thing. Damn hot on this side in June and July."

  "You're welcome to visit Malia in the country, Uncle, if you find it too hot here. But I won't be there. I'm going to the mainland."

  Edmond's interest was caught. "The States? Well that's a different matter. Funny, though, when you froze your knuckles going to college in the mainland, you swore you would never go back there."

  Jared grimaced at the memory of those winters. He never

  did get used to the cold. "It will be summer there too, so it

  won't be bad." «

  "I've been meaning to get over there myself," Edmond reflected. "God, it's been fifteen years since I'Ve been off this rock, and that was only a trip to the big island to in­spect property offered as collateral. If I could just find an assistant competent enough to take over for me, I might be able to get off for a vacation too, but that seems impossible. Colby, the man I've got now, is about to be fired."

  Jared didn't want to talk about company problems. If his uncle only knew how difficult he was to work for, he'd know why he had fired so many assistants.

  "Actually, Uncle, my trip won't be just for pleasure. I've been thinking for quite a while about putting some money in a mainland enterprise. They have much more to offer over there in the way of sound investment. Iron, tim­ber, and steel, bigger banks and shipyards than we have, among other things."

  "But you can't keep an eye on your money over there," Edmond pointed out.

  'True," Jared agreed. "But that wouldn't be necessary if I invested in an established firm. I could just sit back here and reap the profits."

  Edmond's blue eyes gleamed at the mention of profits. "Where in the States were you planning on going?"

  "The East coast—New York or Boston."

  "Good choice," Edmond replied thoughtfully, tapping a finger lightly on his desk. "And how much will you want to ta
ke with you when you go?"

  Jared waited a moment before answering. "Five hundred thousand."

  Edmond sat up and nearly choked. "Good God, mant That's nearly all the cash you have!"

  "I know," Jared said with a light grin.

  "Wouldn't half of that do?"

  "I'm not going to lose money, Uncle," Jared said confi­dently. "I'm going to make it."

  "But still—"

  Jared held up his hand. "If you don't think it's wise for me to tie up all my cash, even though I should have ample return in a year, why don't you invest a little yourself?

  Say ... a hundred thousand? It would be safe, since I would guarantee it myself."

  Edmond came to a quick decision. "Since you do guaran­tee it, I will give you half. But you must leave the same amount here to cover it."

  "Very well." Jared relented, smiling to himself.

  That was more than he had counted on. Now if all the money was lost in what he planned to do, he would not be broke, and he would have a year or more to repay his uncle. He knew that greed was why Edmond was helping him, but nonetheless, he was helping. If only he knew what he was helping to do!

  "How soon will you need the cash?"

  "I sail in five days, on Sunday."

  "So soon?"

  "I have everything in order, Uncle. All that remains is a quick trip out to Sunset Beach to say good-bye to Malia." Jared grinned mischievously. "You will keep an eye on her while I'm gone, won't you?"

  Edmond's eyes widened slightly. "She'll be with all those old relations of yours. I doubt I'll be getting out that way."

  "Well, you know how she likes to come to the city for the winter season. Too many harsh storms on the north shore that time of year."

  Edmond became flustered. "Look here, Jared. The storms don't come until October or November. Just how long do you plan to be in the mainland?"

  "I can't honestly say. Three months, four—but you never know. Possibly six. You don't want me to jump into any­thing quickly, now do you? It will take time to investigate, to be sure our money is safe."

  Edmond sighed. Jared knew damn well he didn't want to be responsible for Malia. His little sister could be quite trying at times and she needed a close watch now that she was almost eighteen.

  Jared smiled to himself. He would never trust her to Edmond's care, but it amused him to have his uncle think he was responsible for the young girl. Of course, it would really be Leonaka Naihe who would protect her. But why let his uncle off the hook by telling him that? Jared enjoyed the consternation on his uncle's face.

  Chapter 3

  NANEKI Kapuakele heard the carriage pull off Bere-tania Street into the driveway, and she ran to the front of the house to peer out the window. It was only the middle of the afternoon, too early for Jared to come home, yet there he was, stepping out of the carriage and coming up the flower-lined walkway.

  How he reminded Naneki of her dead husband, Peni— tall and godlike, carrying himself like an ancient warrior. Peni Kapuakele might have been a great chief if he had lived in the old days. He would have been right there be­side King Kamahamaha, helping to unite the islands.

  Peni was dead. Ua hele i ke ala-maaweiki. He has gone on the narrow-stranded way. And Jared was alive. So like Peni, proud, arrogant, forceful. It did not matter that he was not pure Hawaiian as Peni had been, that he had only a small speck of Hawaiian blood left in him. She was hapa-haole herself, half white, half Hawaiian. Jared's heart was Hawaiian, and his strength. And he was hers, taking the place of her lost Peni.

  Naneki ran a hand through her thick black hah* and smoothed down her pink and white floral muumuu. She wished she were wearing just a simple sarong, which would cling to her hips and reveal her long, graceful legs. That was all she would wear when she was in the country with Malia. But here in the city, Jared would not let her dress so scantily because of the many visitors who came to his house on Beretania Street.

  When Jared opened the door, Naneki was there to greet him. She was a tall girl of gentle grace. She had only to look up a few inches to meet his eyes.

  "Hello, Passion Flower."

  were alone and he was in good spirits. But this was not often, for this young man was much troubled.

  "You home early, Ialeka." She called him by his Hawai­ian name as did most of his local friends.

  "So I am." He moved into the large living room and threw his wide-brimmed straw hat on a nearby chair. "Would you fix me a rum punch?"

  She hesitated, her curiosity aroused. "But why you home so early?"

  He sat down on the end of the brown-and-gold sofa and leaned back with his hands hooked behind his head. "The drink first."

  Naneki shrugged as if she didn't care, then hurried out of the room and was back in a minute with a tall glass of iced punch. She went to a long bar against the back wall and added a liberal dose of rum, then handed it to him. He drank half, set it down, then pulled Naneki onto his lap.

  She giggled and pressed her face to his neck, nibbling softly there. "So this why you come home, eh? You like make love?"

  Jared sighed contentedly and kneeded one plump breast through the thin cotton of her muumuu. He would miss Naneki while he was gone. She was the perfect mistress, undemanding, there when he needed her. She never com­plained, except when he left her in the country with his sister.

  She was the adopted daughter of his cook, housekeeper, and distant relative, Akela Kamanu, that great Hawaiian woman who had raised Malia since her birth. She had raised Naneki too, taking her in when she was abandoned by her Hawaiian mother because Naneki's father had been a haole, white man. Naneki was Malia's closest friend, being only a year older and growing up in the same household, but she also served the Burkett family.

  He would not have touched her if she were not a widow. She had been married young, but the marriage had lasted only three months. She had a daughter from that marriage, and little Noelani needed a father. Jared would have to see about finding Naneki another husband someday soon. He was being selfish in keeping her to himself.

  He had considered marrying her and raising Noelani as his own. The little two-year-old already called him papa.

  But Naneki had loved Peni Kapuakele too much. Peni would always be there, even though he was dead. And Jared would never marry a woman who had had a first love. He knew what that could do to a marriage. He knew what it had done to his parents' marriage.

  Jared kissed Naneki's lips tenderly, then with more de­termination. He rose with her in his arms and carried her upstairs to her room. There he set her down and she pulled her long flowing muumuu, her only garment, over her head and tossed it over the wooden bed frame at the bottom of her bed. She lay down and stretched invitingly, her black eyes half shadowed with drooping lids, her full lips slightly parted.

  Jared quickly discarded his own clothes and joined her on the narrow bed. While his lips claimed hers again, he ran a hand over the smooth brown skin he knew so well, over the full, large breasts, then down her narrow waist. She was built so firmly, had played in the ocean for so many years, that he did not need to worry about hurting her with his strong hands. She was a match for him. And she welcomed him now, opening her legs so that he could plunge into her,

  She received all of his long shaft easily. Jared held back until she reached her pleasure before he gave in to his own. When he was spent, he collapsed on her, resting his head on her shoulder.

  "You need bath now," she said softly as she traced her fingers over his sweaty back.

  Jared only grunted and rolled over to let her up. The room was intolerably hot. The afternoon sun blazed through the open window, and there was very little breeze. He should have taken her to one of the empty rooms on the other side of the house, one that caught the morning sun and was cooler in the afternoon.

  Naneki never asked why he wouldn't bring her to his own room, which was across from hers. He was glad he didn't have to defend his desire for complete privacy there. He did not want to be faced with asking
a woman to leave his bed after he had finished with her, but his need for solitude soon would force himto do so. It was much easier for him to simply slip away afterwards.

  While Naneki left to fun his bath, Jared wondered if his desire for privacy had anything to do with those terrible dreams that sometimes made him cry out in the night. It was likely. He didn't want to share those vivid memories with anyone.

  He guessed that the women he had known didn't con­sider him a determined lover. He came to them only when he needed them, and he never attached himself to any one woman. He was careful in his choices, having nothing to do with virgins, and staying away from whorehouses for health reasons. Widows were his first choice, and then the promis­cuous daughters of acquaintances who asked for what they got. Nothing infuriated Jared more than a tease, or gave him more pleasure than showing one that she couldn't trifle with *Jared Burkett. He considered himself fortunate that no particular woman had a hold on him. He knew what love could do to a man, how destructive it could be.

  He would probably marry Dayna Callan one day—they had never spoken of it, but Jared assumed she was waiting for him. They were friends now, not lovers, and Jared was hoping he might find a woman with more passion than Dayna seemed to have. At twenty-five, she was lovely, quiet, and unassuming. She had never been in love. Jared was sure of this and it was why he considered Dayna for his wife.

  Leonaka, Jared, and Dayna had been a constant three­some as children growing up on the north shore together. The two friends always knew how to bring Jared out of his dark moods. But to marry Dayna? Ah, would he ever make up his mind? It would be like marrying a saint, and he wasn't quite sure he could stand that. He had never even embraced her in anything but friendship. How could he bring himself to make love to her? But she was probably just what he needed. With Dayna, there would be no strife in his lif e other than that of his own making.

  Naneki came back into the room. "Water ready, big boss man."