Page 63 of Duty and Desire

Bright eyes focused on me, more alert. “Good.”

And before I could get another word out, he disappeared beneath the white sheet.

I threw it off, smiling. “Oh no you don’t. Watching is half the fun.”

Whatever else I’d intended saying was forgotten a heartbeat later.

I moaned. “Someone’s hungry this morning.”

The sight of his face between my thighs never failed to send heat rushing through me. Nick grinned. “You could always join me. Aren’t two mouths better than one?”

I shuffled down the bed. “Remind me to write that down.”

Nick

By the time I’d set up the second pot of coffee, Aulani arrived. I greeted her with a smile.

She beamed. “Good morning, handsome.” She glanced at the kitchen, then the living room. “You know, you make a real difference around here.”

I chuckled. “Gio says I keep his inner slob in check.” I’d always been a neat person. It had begun in my childhood when I discovered tidying my bedroom kept me out of people’s way—and provided one thing my father couldn’t find fault with.

Except that hadn’t worked. He’d frowned upon it, complaining that he employed servants to do those kind of tasks, and that I had better ways of occupying my time.

It didn’t matter what I did. I don’t think I found myself in his good books once.

Aulani snorted. “The problem was it didn’tstayinner.” She nodded toward the veranda where Gio was working, his back to us. “How is the writing going?”

I smiled. “It’s going well. I think he wrote seven thousand words yesterday.”

Her eyes widened. “That sounds like a lot. Not if he’s writing the same word seven thousand times, of course.”

“Or if he’s writing the same phrase over and over, like in that movie,The Shining.” I gave an exaggerated shiver. “All work and no play makes Gio a dull boy.”

Aulani let out a very unladylike snort, then blushed. “I wouldn’t know about that. I think you two get all your playing done before I arrive.”

I knew my blush matched hers—my cheeks felt as if they were on fire.

She cocked her head to one side. “Is Gio happy with his writing?”

“He thinks it’s going to be amazing.” The coffee pot beeped, and I grabbed two cups. “Would you like one?”

Her face lit up. “That would be lovely.” She let out a contented sigh. “This is my favorite job—and not because you don’t make a lot of mess. It’s because I get to be around you two.”

I chuckled as I filled the cups. “Are we so entertaining?”

Aulani studied me for a moment, then reached into the enormous canvas bag that was always with her. She drew out her phone, and scrolled. Then she held it up for me to see.

I was looking at a photo of two women, one with a little girl on her knee, the other holding a baby wrapped in a pale blue blanket.

“This is my daughter Manutea and her wife Teva. I took this when my grandson Tamahere was born.”

I couldn’t help beaming at her. I gave Aulani a tight hug, and she patted my back.

“I thought you said you were making coffee,” Gio called out. “And I’m hungry,” he added with a cute whine.

“You’re always hungry when you’re writing. I’ll bring you something. And the coffee’s coming.” I met Aulani’s amused gaze and rolled my eyes before taking Gio his cup. I placed it on the table at a safe distance from his laptop—something I’d learned early on—then bent down to wrap my arms around him, my chin resting on his shoulder.

Gio turned his face toward mine, and we kissed, a warm, fleeting connection. “Do you know whattoday is?”

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