Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Lalani looked at herself in the full-length mirror and realized she was nervous. Really nervous . When was the last time a man had left her with wet palms? It had been so long she couldn’t remember. She hadn’t dated much in the last couple of years, but she hadn’t lived like a nun either. And she definitely didn’t when she was in New York. Being part of the New York City Ballet had given her a little celebrity. Not much, because she wasn’t one of the headliners, but people still knew who she was. There were always interesting men in New York.

She smiled and let the memory fade as she tried to decide what to wear. Anthony hadn’t told her what they were going to do, so she’d had no idea on how to dress. She’d pulled on a bright yellow peasant dress and left her hair loose.

She sighed and walked away from the mirror. There was nothing to worry about. They had mutual attraction. It was normal. He was a gorgeous man who could easily make her melt like butter with just a kiss.

Her cell buzzed and she wondered if he had changed his mind. It would be for the best. Even as she thought that, her heart sank a little. The excitement of a date with a man like Anthony Santini had kept her on edge. When she saw the number was a New York number, she frowned.

“Hello.”

“Lani, darling, how are you doing?” Viktor, her old practice partner asked.

“I’m doing fine.”

It had become a monthly thing with Viktor. He was worried about her sweating through her year in Hawaii. He could never understand why someone would pick to live “on a rock in the middle of the ocean.”

“You see; I waited until late enough to call.”

She laughed. “Yes, but then, you should be getting ready to perform.”

“Just about.”

“Is there anything in particular, or are you just calling to irritate me about the latest cheesecake you ate?”

He laughed. “I wanted to see if you could make a quick trip for an audition.”

She shook her head. He would never give up, no matter how many times she told him she would not be moving back to New York.

“I have class on Tuesday.”

“Why are you taking classes?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not taking classes. I’m teaching them at my studio.”

He made a rude sound as he always did. It wasn’t that he didn’t support her. He did in his own way, but he still did not accept that she was fine with the decision she’d made.

“You should be dancing in front of people.”

“I did an exhibition the other night.”

“You did?”

“Yes, at Ala Moana Mall.”

Another rude noise. “A mall?” Disgust dripped from his voice and she smiled. They hadn’t always been the best of friends. They had been adversaries at one time, mainly because Viktor had a reputation with women. She hadn’t been interested and it irritated him. But, they had come to terms with that along the way and had become good friends.

She was one of the few people who knew he’d worked hard to rid himself of his Alabama accent, loved fried okra, and before he’d left home, he had been plain old Vic from Prattville. They had even lived together for a while in New York, until she couldn’t take the constant stream of women coming and going from the apartment at all hours of the day. He had been the one she’d gone to after her breakup with Ron though. She remembered sobbing and half laughing as Viktor vowed to kill Ron for cheating on her. For that, she would always love him.

“Yes. I had my girls out there doing hula.”

“Darling, how can you find this interesting?”

“First, I want to ask if you are aware of treading on dangerous ground?”

“I don’t know why you are so interested in Hula.”

“It’s in my blood, just like clogging is in yours.”

“Shut up.”

She laughed, her nerves easing. “You have done your duty trying to get me back to New York.”

He sighed, and this time it was definitely not from irritation. There was something so lonely in the sound.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure. I am just out of sorts, and I was hoping that you would come back and get me back into sorts.”

This wasn’t like Viktor at all. “Did something happen?”

“No.”

“Viktor?”

“I promise. I’m just…bored.”

Okay, not good.

“Do you have any time off coming up?”

“You know I always have time off.”

“Come see me. I have two bedrooms and I can show you the sights of Hawaii.”

There was a long pause. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay, well, go dance beautifully like you always do. I have a date.”

“Oh? Is this some kind of Hawaiian hunk?”

“Nope, a Haole, and from the name, Italian; although, I know his mother is Hispanic.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That leaves just about everything on the table, Viktor.”

“Exactly. You need to get laid.”

She laughed, told him she loved him, and hung up. A couple seconds later, her buzzer sounded. Her heart almost leapt out of her chest. She drew in a deep breath, counted back from ten—then did it again—before she made it to the door. She clicked on the intercom.

“Yes?”

“It’s me.” Abrupt and rude as usual.

“Who is me ?”

“Cut it out, Lalani.” He sounded so irritated.

“Well, this bodes well for the evening.”

She finally hit the buzzer to let him in. As she waited, she walked over to the lanai. She’d gotten lucky that her uncle had needed a tenant. She was sure he could have made money off of someone else renting. The view was one of the best. The Pacific Ocean sparkled below as tourists and locals hurried along Kaulakau Boulevard. She had enjoyed New York, and it would always be a second home to her. But Hawaii, it was her home, where her heart would always be.

Her doorbell rang, and she took her time getting to the door. If he could be rude, then so could she. She looked through the peephole and sighed. Damn if he didn’t look like a damned god, even through a peephole. She opened the door. He’d dressed casually, a pair of black linen shorts and a red polo shirt with tropical flowers. His hair was a bit windblown.

Anthony didn’t even try and hide his study of her. His gaze slid down her frame, then back up again. His mouth curved up on one side. She felt the power of it all the way to the soles of her feet.

“You look nice, Lalani.”

“Thank you. Do you want to come in?”

He shook his head. “I think we should stay far away from a bed for awhile.”

She would not smile at that. “Let me get my purse.”

She grabbed it off the dining table and made her way back to the door. After slipping on her sandals, she stepped into the hallway. Once the door was locked, they made their way to the elevator.

“So, you don’t want to be near a bed?”

He said nothing, but slanted her a look before hitting the button.

“No comment?” she asked.

“I just think it didn’t need an explanation.”

“Pretend I’m stupid.”

He turned to face her and leaned closer. “Truth is, Lalani, when I get you near a bed, we’ll be in it. And after that, I don’t plan on leaving for a week.”

The dangerous tone in his voice told her he was definitely capable of doing just that. And damn her for wanting to be on the receiving end of that. She should say something, some kind of clever quip that would put him in his place, but her hormones had apparently taken over her brain. The only thought that came to mind was I want .

Thankfully, before she could embarrass herself, the door dinged open. Inside was an older couple that lived a floor up from her. Anthony waited for her to step into the elevator before following her in.

“Lalani, it’s so nice to see you. How are your uncle and his husband doing?”

Damn, what were their names? They were always so sweet to her and her uncle and his partner. She was usually very good with names and faces. Anthony Santini was making her stupid. He was killing her brain cells with testosterone.

The Olivers!

“They are doing just fine. They are enjoying Vegas. The dry air is better for Brett’s asthma.”

Mrs. Oliver nodded and smiled, and then looked directly at Anthony.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Anthony Santini, this is Mr. and Mrs. Oliver. They live one floor up to me.”

He nodded and smiled. Mrs. Oliver, who had to be seventy years old, giggled. What was it about the Santini men that seemed to bring out the infatuated girl in every woman they met?

The door dinged open, and they waited until the Olivers stepped out before them. “Have a good time, dear.”

“We will,” she said with a smile, as she watched them leave. She glanced at Anthony. “So, do all women act like that around you?”

“Like what?”

She rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”

They walked out of the building. She slipped on her sunglasses. “Which way?”

He motioned with his head, and slipped on those damned mirrored sunglasses of his.

They walked side by side down the street. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“I thought we’d hit a place to eat.”

She ground her teeth. Oh, Santini liked to be in charge, and he was pushing his limits with her. She wasn’t a woman who just blindly followed a man around.

She opened her mouth to say something, but he took her arm and guided her to his truck. He opened the passenger side door for her.

“I really want to make sure you aren’t going to murder me and throw me off a cliff in Waimea Valley.”

His lips twitched. “It’s just lunch.” He helped her into the truck. “Besides, there would be too many witnesses this time of day on a Sunday.”

He shut the door in her face. As she watched him round the hood of the truck, she fought the smile but lost the battle. Her mouth curved and she sighed.

The damn man did have a way about him.