"No, this is not good," Jared muttered. Nothing about this situation was in the least good. Not Kanoa's injury, nor her deceit, nor Deville's escape.

"We must get her to Lani," Lakoa said. "She will know what to do."

Lani must be the Polynesian woman at the cottage, Deville's mistress, Jared decided. Lakoa was right; the cottage was not close, but it was nearer than the village. He checked the wound on Kanoa's temple. It had stopped bleeding, and the cut did not appear deep. The fall itself had rendered her unconscious.

He cradled her in his arms and rose to his feet. "Let's go."

Bradford frowned. "Are you sure? It's miles back to the cottage. We could camp here and send Lakoa for help."

"It will be quicker to take her ourselves." He moved down the hill. "You lead the way, Lakoa. It's getting black as pitch on this damn mountain."

Papa was carrying her, holding her close and safe, keeping away the darkness.

No, it couldn't be Papa. He hadn't carried her in his arms since she was a little girl. Since the time Clara had told him that such coddling would spoil her. It must be someone else…

She struggled to open her lids. She gave it up; it was too hard.

"I'll take her for a while. You must be tired, lad."

"I'm damnably tired. I'd like to drop her off the side of the mountain."

"Then why didn't you leave her? I told you an hour ago carrying her all this way was too much strain. We should have done what I first suggested."

No answer but a low curse.

Both voices had been deep, masculine, but neither had been Papa's.

Danger. There was something she should remember…

She managed to raise her lids this time. Why, that was Lakoa bearing the torch on the trail ahead. She had known him since she had been a child, played with him in the village. "Lakoa," she whispered.

"Don't talk." The words were clipped, reverberating beneath her ear.

She looked up and met the gaze of the man who was carrying her. Blue eyes, clear and cool as the lake in her valley across the island. She remembered those eyes but couldn't recall why they brought this feeling of uneasiness.

"Is she awake?"

She caught a glimpse of another face. Heavy features; curly, gray-flecked dark hair; eyes the color of strong tea.

The arms tightened around her. "Barely."

His scent drifted to her-musk, leather. The scent was also familiar… Why couldn't she connect it to the man? He had been close to her once like this and had spoken words, disturbing words…

"Who are…" she whispered.

He looked down at her, his eyes gleaming like the blade of a knife.

Gleaming with anger… and something else.

She closed her eyes to shut him out. She could not deal with the uneasiness looking at him brought. The blackness was rushing back, and she had to concentrate on the fight to keep it at bay.

Only a few seconds later the battle was lost, and darkness claimed her once more.

At Jared's first knock the door of the cottage was thrown open.

"What have you done to her?" the Polynesian woman demanded, staring at Cassie in dismay. "Why did you hurt her? She did nothing to-"

"I didn't hurt her." Jared pushed past her and strode into the sitting room. "She hurt herself. The blasted girl fell down the mountain and hit her head."

"And you had nothing to do with it?" Lani asked with sarcasm.

"She was skipping along the rocks in the dark trying to make us think she was Deville." He laid Cassie down on the sofa. "I assume this is his daughter?"

Lani knelt beside Cassie. "Of course it is."

The confirmation came as no surprise, but he had hoped Lakoa had been mistaken.

"Did she wake at all on the way here?" Lani asked.

"Once. She appeared to be confused. I've sent Lakoa and my uncle to King Kamehameha to bring a physician here."

"I've seen many head wounds before. If she woke, then the danger is probably not great. Sleep is the medicine she needs." Lani looked at him. "Charles?"

"We didn't catch him." He gazed directly into her eyes. "But we will."

"So that you can break his head, too?"

"I didn't break-" He drew a deep breath and tried to control his temper. "I don't go around breaking girls' heads-even if they deserve it."

"To try to save a father's life is such a heinous crime."

His hands clenched into fists. "It's not criminal, but it's damn foolish. She could have died on that mountain."

She tilted her head and gazed at him curiously. "You are concerned about her."

"I'm not concerned. Anyone who is stupid enough to risk everything for a man who- Why are you just kneeling there? Do something! At least wash the blood from her face."

"I will do so." She paused. "If you wish to be helpful, you could keep Clara out of my way. She's bound to hear me, and she thinks no one does things properly but herself."

Clara? He vaguely remembered the woman. "The housekeeper? Very well."

"And you could carry Cassie into her room. She will be more comfortable there."

Jared lifted Cassie again and followed Lani down the short hall. After he had placed Cassie on the narrow bed, he stepped back. God, she was pale.

"Now leave the room," Lani ordered. "She will be disturbed if she wakes to a stranger."

Jared hesitated. He didn't want to go, blast it.

"You have no place here." Lani's soft voice held a note of steel. "You're the enemy, and I won't have her made afraid when she's ill."

Of course, he was the enemy. Did the woman think he would forget it? "I have a place here until I find Charles Deville." He turned on his heel. "I'll let you have your way, but I've not noticed Kanoa is burdened by an overabundance of fear."

As he closed the door behind him, Clara Kidman appeared in the hall.

"What's happening?" she asked sharply. "What are you doing here?"

He opened his lips to answer with the same rudeness, then changed his mind. The woman was as sour as an unripe grape, but in the house of the enemy you gathered any ally you could. He injected all the powers of persuasion at his command into his smile. "Ah, I was just coming to tell you all about it, Miss Kidman. It appears we have a desperate situation and need someone of your obvious intelligence and efficiency to help us solve it."

The scent of lavender soap, vanilla, and ginger flowers drifted to Cassie even before she opened her eyes.

Lani.

Lani's beautiful, serene face above her, Lani wiping her forehead with a cool cloth. Everything was all right; safety, love… Not quite all right, she realized the next moment as a throbbing pain shot through her temple.

"My head hurts." The words came out in a croak.

Lani smiled. "It's not surprising when you tried your best to break it open. Does your throat ache?"

She swallowed. "A little."

"I've been able to get only a little water down you in the last few hours." She took a cup from the bedside table. "Drink."

It wasn't water but sweetened coconut milk, Cassie recognized. She must be ill. From childhood Lani had always given her the same drink when she'd been sick. She had made up a story for Clara that though the drink was bitter tasting, it had special healing properties. Cassie remembered the secret laughter they had shared as she had feigned reluctance even to taste the milk.

Her lips curved in a smile before she made a face. "What foul stuff."

Lani's eyes twinkled. "But it's so good for you."

She took another sip. "Am I sick?"

"You don't remember? You fell and hit your head at Pelée's Breath. But don't worry, the doctor was here just a few hours ago and said no true harm had been done." She wrinkled her nose. "I didn't need him to tell me that."

Pelée's Breath. What had she been doing at Pelée's-