"That's none of your concern."
"On the contrary, I hope to make it very much my concern. I've had very good news tonight, and I feel like celebrating. Will you celebrate with me, Kanoa?"
His smile shimmered in the darkness, coaxing, alluring. Nonsense. He was only a man; it was stupid to be so fascinated by this stranger. "Why should I? Your good news is nothing to me."
"Because it's a fine night and I'm a man and you're a woman. Isn't that enough? I hate to see a woman deprived of-"
He broke off as he came to within a few yards of her. Then with disgust he said, "Christ, you're nothing but a child."
"I'm not a child." It was a common and most annoying mistake. She was very small-boned and tiny compared to the Junoesque islanders and was always being thought younger than her nineteen years.
"Oh, no, you must be all of fourteen or fifteen," he said sarcastically.
"No, I'm older than-"
"Of course you are."
He didn't believe her. It was foolish to argue with a man she would probably never see again. "It doesn't matter."
"The hell it doesn't," he said roughly. "I heard what Kalua said about having her first man when she was thirteen. Don't listen to her. Pay heed to this old one. You have no business swimming out to foreign ships and coupling with sailors."
"But it's entirely proper for you to fornicate with my friends."
"That's different."
She snorted inelegantly.
He blinked, and then his lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile. "You disagree?"
"Men always make themselves the exception to every rule. It's not fair."
"You're right, of course. We're very unfair to females."
She felt a flicker of surprise. She was not accustomed to such easy acquiescence on this subject. Even Papa became defensive when she tried to discuss the issue of man's injustice to women. "Then why don't you stop?"
"Because taking advantage of women makes the world a very comfortable and pleasant place for us males. I'd wager we'll never be anything but unfair until we're forced to it."
"And you will be. It cannot last forever. Mary Wollstonecraft has even written a book that-"
"Mary Wollstonecraft? What do you know of her?"
"Lani was taught by the English missionaries. The Reverend Densworth's wife gave her a copy of Miss Wollstonecraft's book, and she gave it to me."
He groaned. "Good God, and I thought I was leaving the teachings of those Bluestockings behind when I left London."
She frowned in puzzlement. "Bluestockings?"
"Learned ladies like Miss Wollstonecraft. I never thought they'd invade a paradise like this."
"Truth and justice cannot be hidden," she said earnestly.
"I see," he replied solemnly. "Is that what your Miss Wollstonecraft says?"
She felt a hurtful pang. "You're making mock of me."
He frowned. "Dammit, I didn't mean-"
"Don't lie. You did mean it."
"All right, I was mocking you. It's all I know. I'm not accustomed to talking to youngsters like you."
"Well, you don't have to talk to me any longer." She started to turn away. "I won't stay to listen to-"
"Wait."
"Why should I? So that you can mock me again?"
"No." He grimaced. "I'm feeling unusual twinges of conscience. I believe I need absolution." He smiled coaxingly. "Stay and give it to me, Kanoa."
His eyes no longer appeared cold, and his entire being seemed to exude a glowing persuasiveness that was nearly mesmerizing. She had a sudden desire to take a step closer, move nearer to that warmth.
"Why… should I?" she asked again.
"Because you have a kind heart."
"You don't know that I do. You don't know anything about me."
"I know that you were concerned about your friends. Surely that denotes a kind heart."
"It's easy to give kindness to friends. You're a stranger."
His smile faded and he looked out at the sea. "Yes, I am."
Loneliness. She had the sudden feeling that he was speaking of a constant state, and felt an odd sense of kinship. She knew about loneliness.
Foolishness. He was a nobleman, and Lihua had certainly not found anything in him to pity. Yet Cassie found herself saying haltingly, "If you're asking forgiveness, then I give it freely."
He turned to look at her. "Do you? How extraordinarily generous." When he saw her frown with uncertainty, he shook his head. "No, I'm not being sarcastic. I believe you mean it, and the women to whom I'm accustomed give nothing freely." He smiled crookedly. "But, then, you're not yet a woman. You have time to learn the way of it."
The flare of annoyance burned away any pity she had felt for him. "It's no wonder you must pay for your pleasure when you make stupid judgments and your tongue stings like an adder."
He chuckled with genuine humor. "My tongue can do other things than sting. I must show you-" He broke off and sighed. "I keep forgetting that you're not fair sport. I think we'd best discuss something of mutual interest." He glanced over his shoulder at the palm thicket from which he had emerged. "Is that your horse tied to the tree?"
"Yes."
"A fine stallion. I might be interested in buying him, but first I'll have to watch him move. I've seldom seen a more splendid animal."
"He's not for sale." She added flatly, "And you've never seen a more splendid animal. Kapu is without equal."
He threw back his head and laughed. "I beg to disagree, but I approve your loyalty. How did you come by him? I've never heard of islanders raising horses."
"You've not been here long. How could you know anything about us?"
"I've annoyed you again."
He did annoy her. His easy assurance made her feel uncertain, and his physical presence was most disturbing. She sensed the heat of his body only a few feet away and caught the aroma of musk and leather that surrounded him. So different from the men of the village, who carried the scent of salt and fish and the oil of coconut; different also from her father, who usually smelled of brandy and a lemony cologne. Everything about Jared Danemount was different; she had the impression of tremendous strength in spite of his lithe leanness. His light eyes were either blue or gray and very cool. No, that was wrong, they were hot. No… she didn't know what they were, but looking into them was making her uncomfortable. She said in a rush, "You think you have a horse finer than Kapu?"
"I know I have a horse finer than your stallion."
She felt another flare of annoyance at his confidence. "Only a fool would make such a claim after one glance at a horse."
"I took more than a glance. I've never been able to resist good horseflesh, and I had a chance to examine him very closely while you and your friends were playing on the beach." He smiled. "It was only when the conversation became so interesting that I was distracted."
She stiffened. "How close to him?"
"Enough to note the usual things-hooves, teeth…"
"You lie," she said curtly. "Kapu would never let anyone that close. I would have heard him."
"But you didn't."
"And you would not be here now. The last time anyone tried to check Kapu's teeth, he lost a finger."
"Perhaps he likes me. Horses have been known to find me trustworthy."
"You lie," she repeated. It could not be true. Kapu belonged only to her.
His smile disappeared. "I don't lie. I may be guilty of many sins, but that's not one of them."
"Prove it. Go bring him to me."
"I don't take orders from children."
"I thought as much," she said, relieved. "You're afraid of Kapu, like everyone else."
"You're beginning to irritate me." His tone had taken on a steely edge. "I do not lie, and I'm not afraid of your horse."
She glared at him. "Prove it."
Studying her intently, he asked, "Why is it so important to you?"
"I don't like liars."
"No, I don't think that's the reason." He shrugged. "But you shouldn't issue challenges unless you expect them to be accepted." He turned and moved toward the thicket. A moment later he disappeared into the shadows of the palm trees.