Page 51 of Maliea's Hero

He'd left for Syria when Abby was only three months old and returned after her first birthday. She hadn’t known him and had screamed when he’d come to take her for his court-ordered visitation.

Abby thought of Martin as her real father and Reid as a distant uncle who tore her away from her mother every month for a weekend and two weeks in the summer.

He followed Maliea through the suite to the French doors leading out onto the balcony with its cushioned loveseat and low metal table.

The seat was small enough that he couldn’t keep his leg from touching hers.

Every time he leaned forward for the sandwich or beer, his shoulder brushed against hers. Each contact sent a spark of electricity shooting through him. He should have stood and moved away, but he couldn’t.

The woman had him knotting on the inside, his muscles tense, ready to spring into action.

To do what?

Grab Maliea and kiss her soundly on the lips?

Run his hands through her hair and kiss her until they were both restless?

Sweep her up into his arms, carry her to the empty bedroom and make love to her all night long?

Whoa.

Reid abandoned the last couple of bites of his sandwich and sat back in his seat.

What was he thinking? This was his client—a woman with a small child. A widow who’d only recently lost her husband. What kind of asshole was he to think of making a move on her?

“You’re frowning quite fiercely,” Maliea said, staring at his face, her own brow puckering. “What are you thinking about?”

“Kissing you,” he said before he could rein in his tongue.

Her eyes widened, and she swallowed hard. “Seriously?”

He pushed to his feet and stood with his back to her, staring out at the stars, the mountain and anything but Maliea. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to blurt that out. Forget I said it. You should get some sleep. I’ll probably leave you here tomorrow and maybe follow your father’s storybook to Niihau and find out whatever he discovered.”

Maliea came to stand beside him without touching him.

It didn’t matter. Her nearness sent his blood burning through his veins, headed south to his groin.

“If you’re going to follow my father’s storybook, I’m going with you,” she said softly, not making any mention of his other statement—the one about the kiss.

His fingers curled around the balcony railing in an attempt to keep him from pulling her into his arms and kissing her.

“You can’t go with me,” Reid said.

“Why?” Maliea asked.

“What about Nani?” he reminded her.

“You heard Hawk and Kalea; they want to look after Nani. They want to know what it’s like to take care of a small human.”

“You trust them with your daughter?” Reid asked.

“Do you trust them?” Maliea asked.

Reid nodded. “With my life.”

“And Nani’s?” she pushed.

“Absolutely,” he said.