Claws for a Cause (A Klepto Cat Mystery Book 15) by Patricia Fry

He asked Savannah, “Can I look through the long lens on your camera? I mean…can I take a few pictures with your camera?”
    “Oh Michael, simmer down. If you get this excited every time you see women in bikinis, you’re apt to have a heart attack before we leave the island.”
    “You’re no fun,” he said, feigning a pout.
    When he pulled her to him and kissed her neck, she laughed. “Michael, why are you so frisky? Come on now, let’s find a table, then we’ll take turns going to the buffet. Hey, there’s Shelly and Rebecca.” She waved. “Want to join us?”
    The two women nodded and followed the Ivey party to a table for six on the deck. Once everyone had fixed themselves a plate and sat down to eat, Savannah noticed something. “What kind of flower is that?”
    “Isn’t it an orchid?” Gladys suggested. “Or is it ginger?”
    “I don’t know. It’s beautiful. Hand me my camera, Michael; I want to shoot it.” Camera in hand, Savannah walked along a large planter looking for just the right blossom, and then began focusing for a close-up of the delicate white flower. She had snapped a few pictures when suddenly she realized she wasn’t alone.
    “Hey, you don’t have permission to take my picture!”
    Stunned, Savannah rose and saw a man intently staring back at her from the other side of the planter box. Oh, this guy must be teasing me, she thought to herself.But when she looked into his face, she saw seriously intense anger. He’s not kidding. He looks downright scary. “Oh…um,” she stuttered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there. I wasn’t…” When he continued to stare into her eyes, she stepped back and stumbled a little against something…or someone. Immediately, she felt a pair of warm hands against her skin.
    “Hello,” came a smooth-as-silk male voice. “Do you always walk around backward?”
    Her heart in her throat, Savannah quickly turned and saw a well-built man of about forty smiling at her, his face so close she could smell his aftershave lotion. “Sorry,” she murmured, wriggling from his grip.
    “Perfectly okay,” he said, continuing to smile at her. He scowled toward the dark-skinned island man who had startled Savannah. “Go on now,” he said to the man, motioning with one hand. “Go.”
    The native continued to focus angrily on Savannah. He glanced at the other man, then pointed a finger at her menacingly. What happened next was like a kick in the stomach for Savannah. He narrowed his eyes and snarled, “I’ll kill you,” before throwing a small canvas bag over one shoulder and trotting away across the sand.
    “My gosh, what did I do?” she muttered. Gulping in air, she explained, “I was just taking a picture of that flower. Did he say he’d kill me?” she asked, her voice cracking.
    “Don’t let that worry you, pretty lady,” the man said, still smiling. “Are you traveling alone?”
    She gestured across the patio toward her table. “No, I’m with…Michael…my husband,” she stammered, “and a bunch of other people.”
    He ran his eyes over her one more time and sighed, “Too bad.” He then told her, “Just stay close to your people.” He glanced behind her. “So that’s your husband over there, right—and your friends?”
    Savannah nodded.
    “Stay close to them. Do not go on the beach at night. You’ll be fine.” He motioned toward the camera in her hand. “Look at what’s around you before you start pointing that thing. Just like on the mainland, there are crazies living here and some of them do not like anyone taking their picture.”
    “Well…thank you…” she stuttered.
    “Um…Mikala,” he said, bowing slightly and reaching for her hand.
    “Thank you, Mikala,” she said, slipping her hand into his.
    “And you’re? he asked.
    “Savannah.”
    “Ahhh, as in the great city in Georgia. Beautiful…as are you.”
    Still rather stunned by what had just taken place and the gallant nature of this Hawaiian man,