Rolling in the Deep: Hawaiian Heroes, Book 2 Read Online Free PDF

sauntered out the door of the office, pausing to let a couple enter, climbed back in his truck and followed the long driveway to the rocky point at the end of the boat channel, dredged years ago by the Army Corps of Engineers. A light afternoon wind riffled the waves now, and a long line of clouds hugged the horizon, fading the ocean into mist. Only a lone sportfishing boat chugged along the channel. Others were already out at sea, their slips empty.
    Daniel parked in the open gravel area on the point. He clicked off his phone and removed his earpiece. Pulling a small, waterproof pouch from his pocket, he slipped his keys into it, fastened it snugly and shoved it back into the pocket of his shorts, zipping the pocket shut on them. He pulled his T-shirt off over his head and dropped it on the seat beside him.
    Locking his truck, he leapt lightly down to the edge of the water, kicked off his leather sandals and dove in.
    The sea welcomed him like a lover into her cool embrace. Unbidden, Claire Hunter appeared in his mind’s eye, swimming before him, her eyes smoky with promise, that mouth pouting invitingly, her blonde hair waving about her face, her naked body limned in the turquoise light dappling the underwater world.
    Goose bumps broke out over his skin at the clarity of his vision, as if he knew just how her full breasts would look, nipples like tight buds in the cool water, her strong, slender arms and legs moving gracefully. Even the little triangle of curls on her mons—would it be natural or a narrow trail, trimmed as many women did now?
    He shook his head, furious with himself and with her. Damn, he didn’t allow his cock to rule his head, not anymore. That led straight to the loss of self-control, and he was too big, too powerful to allow himself that with a woman like her. Kahni could take it; she was a strong Polynesian wahine.
    Claire Hunter might be athletic and curvaceous, but she was still far too delicate for a kanaka like him. Time to forget her and remember why he was here.
    Swerving through the mooring buoys, Daniel headed out toward the open sea. Once he was beyond the breakwater, he dove under the surface. Powerful strokes of his arms and steady kicks of his legs took him deeper. The throb of the outgoing boat’s motor faded steadily, swallowed in the deep sigh of the ocean.
    His pulse slowed, his blood washing in the ancient, steady rhythm of the waves high over his head. As he did each time, he let go of his body’s normal responses, of the urge to breathe in quick, shallow bursts as he did on land. Here, he could swim for several moments before surfacing for a few long breaths. In the dancing waves, his chances of being seen were very slight.
    He’d like to swim for the sheer joy of being in his favorite place. But he wasn’t here to relax. He was here to hunt and to bring allies into the chase with him.
    He heard the nai’a as he swam out where he could no longer see the sandy bottom, surrounded by the mysterious blue depths, where sight was the weakest of senses and danger could hide just a short distance away. He called to them, pushing sound from his chest high into his throat, a long reverberating cry. The friendly whistles grew louder as their graceful, slender shapes torpedoed toward him. The biggest pod of spinner dolphins that hunted the western shore, this group numbered well over fifty adults, with young of various ages. They raced toward him, breaking ranks at the last instant to surround him, swerving to swim alongside. One of the young males rolled on his back beside Daniel, effortlessly keeping pace, his gaze bright with mischief.
    “Hello, little brother,” Daniel whistled. “You’ve recovered from your brush with that tourist boat.”
    The young male agreed with a chirr and righted himself, giving way to a mother and her baby, who chattered to him as they surged along beside him, the baby always at its mother’s fin.
    “Da kine keiki,” Daniel approved. She trilled her