Tempted By Her Island Millionaire

“Come on,” he pleaded. “Just for tonight. So that I can maybe relax and enjoy this amazing dinner and the traditional performance.”

She supposed he did at least have a right to that. Given that it was his sister’s wedding they were all here for. Besides, she’d been thankful to Clint so many times in the past. Like when he’d bought his sister the car they’d both used to get from their off-campus dorm to their classes in the dead of winter. Or during junior year when their preferred choice of housing had fallen through and he’d pulled all sorts of strings to get them a place to stay.

Just admit that the prospect of spending the evening with him isn’t exactly a turnoff.

She gave him a nonchalant shrug. “Why not?”

Somehow, against her better judgment, she’d just agreed to spend the evening close by Clint’s side.

* * *

“I take it you won’t be indulging in the main course,” Clint said as he escorted Rita toward the numerous buffet tables laden with island food. So far, she was being a good sport about their earlier agreement to help him keep Tessa at bay. She’d stayed by his side and made sure to keep the conversation going between the two of them. Just generally staying in his company which he was enjoying way more than he should.

Truth be told, he hadn’t been expecting to get much pleasure out of this evening. He wasn’t exactly a luau type. Thanks to Rita, however, the evening was so far turning out quite differently than he’d imagined. In a very pleasant way.

The way the other woman was shooting daggers at him from across the serving area made it clear she’d noticed the camaraderie between them.

“You would be correct,” Rita responded as they reached the first table.

Sarita. No wonder he hadn’t recognized her. He could hardly be faulted for not realizing at first glance that she was the bespectacled, purple-haired, shy girl he’d see occasionally when he visited Lizzie at school. Hard to believe this was the same woman standing before him now.

“It’s not like I’ll go hungry,” she added, breaking into his thoughts and motioning to the massive number of dishes laid out before them. He didn’t even recognize half the plates. Tropical fruit, various pulled meats, grilled vegetables. In the center of every table sat a bowling-ball-sized bowl of some kind of pinkish pudding-like substance.

“Any idea what that is?” he asked her.

“I believe it’s what’s known as poi.”

“Pa—what, now?”

She laughed as she handed him an empty plate, then grabbed one for herself. “Based on some reading I’ve done, it’s made from some kind of native plant. It’s supposed to be full of essential vitamins and minerals. It’s supposed to be very good for you. Particularly for—” she paused midsentence “—um... Never mind.”

Judging by the way she suddenly ducked her head, something had clearly made her uncomfortable.

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing. Just an article I read.”

“I’m a little hurt that you aren’t willing to educate me. Perfectly okay that I’ll remain woefully ignorant about whatever this pwah is.”

She granted him a small laugh. “Poi. It’s just very popular with the men in particular.”

“Yeah, why’s that?”

They both reached for the same serving spoon and the brush of her fingers against his sent a spark of awareness down to his center. Suddenly, he realized what she was referring to. The poi must be considered to lend some kind of boost to male performance.

She quickly pulled her hand away.

“I think I figured it out.” He reached for the next item. “Not that someone like me would be concerned about that.”

Why the hell had he just said that?

Damn it, now the air between them was awkward and strained. When they’d been having such a relaxed conversation earlier.

“That was just a joke,” he said by way of explanation.

“Does that mean it’s not true? That you could perhaps use the poi?”

“What? No! I mean, yes. I mean, of course it’s true.” Saints above. It was like he didn’t even know how to speak around this woman.

She popped a pineapple chunk into her mouth and winked at him with bemusement. He had to remind himself to breathe.

“Ha, ha.”

Just to be funny, he scooped a ridiculous amount of the poi and dropped it in the center of his plate.

The show was just starting as they took their seats. He stole a glance at Rita next to him as she watched. She seemed thoroughly entranced by the story the performers were enacting on the stage. Tales about native islanders leaving their home to find more hospitable islands. Kings and queens leading their people to new lands, the culture and customs that they brought with them and how they mixed with inhabitants already living there.

Rita looked like she could be one of those queens. Or a regal princess adjusting to life on a new island. Her sundress swayed softly in the breeze. The glow of the lit torches brought out the dark golden specks of her eyes. Rather than wearing the flower lei they’d received upon arrival around her neck, she’d loosely wrapped it around the crown of her head. The overall effect was mesmerizing.

So much so that Clint barely noticed when the story depiction part of the show was over and the hula dancing had begun. Rhythmic drums filled the air as the dancers bounced to the music, their hips moving in ways that seemed to defy anatomical possibility. The dancers then formed a circle around the tables. Lizzie and Jonathon sat at the table next to them. The woman onstage spoke into her microphone. “I understand there are a bride and groom here celebrating with us.”

One of the dancers extended a hand to Lizzie, who took it and then stood from the table. Jonathon stood as well with another dancer leading him by the elbow. All four started making their way toward the stage. Various other couples in the dining area were similarly led.

“Please come participate with us in a traditional celebratory dance,” the woman said into the mic.

On her way to the stage, Lizzie suddenly stopped behind him. “Come on, big brother. I don’t want you to miss out on this.” She grabbed him by the crook of the elbow and pulled.

“Oh, no, you don’t. I am not a dancer.”

“Tonight you are.” She tugged on his arm until he had no choice but to stand.

His sister wanted him to dance. Onstage. A traditional Hawaiian hula. Well, he wasn’t going down alone.

“Rita? Care to join us?”

Her jaw fell. “Uh... I’ll sit this one out.”

“Come on. Don’t make me suffer this alone.” Before he could finish the sentence, the female dancer behind him took Rita by the hand and made her stand. Essentially making the decision for her. Clint decided he’d be forever indebted to the woman. They made their way toward the stage.

Once there, he found himself thrust in Rita’s direction as everyone coupled up to dance, the women in front of the men. A dancer in the front led them, instructing how to move the hips just so. Rita did as instructed. And she seemed to have quite a knack for it. Her hips moved in swift circles in front of him and he thought perhaps his lungs would stop functioning.

Sweet heavens, perhaps he shouldn’t have had any of the poi. Not that it would have made any kind of difference.

* * *

The early-morning jog along the beach was supposed to clear his head. But images from the previous evening kept invading Clint’s mind as he ran at a punishing pace along the water. Rita’s smile as she was teasing him about the local delicacy. The way she’d tried to avoid looking at the main dish.

How her hips had moved as she danced in front of him.