“Not sugary. Honest.”
“You make a habit of being honest?” she asked.
“I try. How about you?”
She shrugged. “It’s the only way I know how to be. My family says I don’t think before I talk, so you’re never quite sure what’ll come out of my mouth.”
“I guess that can be a good and bad thing.”
“I’ve never had any problems. It’s mostly the person I’m talking to that doesn’t like something I’ve said. But that’s probably because the truth hurts.”
“Yeah, sometimes I guess it does,” he answered quietly.
“So you never said what you’re doing here at the luxurious Sandy Pines.”
“Originally this trip was all about work. But now,” he said as they came to a stop, “it’s definitely pleasure.”
“Is your company thinking of buying a resort here?”
“My mother owns the Sandy Pines,” he said, trying not to wince at the thought. However, after his complete tour of the grounds and a couple nights to really think about it, he was coming up with a strategy to make this an old Southern bed-and-breakfast exactly the way his mother remembered it.
“Really? So you’re of high class after all,” she said teasingly, remembering their conversation from last night. “Wait a minute, you said your name was Donovan, right? The oil tycoon Donovans?”
She’d turned so that instead of being beside him she was now standing in front of him.
He laughed. “One and the same.”
“And that’s funny?”
“No. I’m just glad you didn’t say The Triple Threat Donovans.”
“Really? Why?”
“They’re my cousins, Adam, Trent and Linc. They sort of have a reputation for being unobtainable.”
“All of the Donovan men have that reputation, as well as their relatives. I’ve heard all of this, not actually experienced it for myself. My sister is dating Sam Desdune. I think he’s friends with one of your cousins. Anyway, he told us all about your family.”
Max would have to remember the next time he saw Sam to jack him up for that little favor. “Sam’s a good friend of the family. The private investigation business he and Trent run is doing really well. I heard he’d finally settled down.” Another one in the growing list of relatives and close friends that were taking the leap, Max thought but didn’t say.
“I like Sam and his family. Haven’t met any of the other Donovans.”
Unable to resist touching her, Max ran a finger up and down her bare arm. “So you’ll base your judgment of them on me?”
She smiled. “No. Of course not. I’m sure they have no more control over you then my family wishes they had over me.”
“For the most part my family’s not like that. We pretty much do our own thing.”
“Even if it’s not in the family business?” There was something there in the shift in tone when she’d said that. It made Max think her life wasn’t as happy as she seemed to be.
“Sure. My cousin Linc owns two casinos and is thinking about expanding overseas. Trent went into the Navy right out of high school and is now running a P.I. firm. Adam and I are in real estate. We’ve got a cousin in construction, one in finance. We’re all over the place.”
“And your family’s cool with it. That’s great.”
“You sound like your family’s not like that. Are you going against the grain by writing books instead of doing what they want?”
“Very perceptive, Donovan,” she quipped.
“Max.”
She nodded. “Right. Max. Yeah, my family’s really different from yours. Well, at least my immediate family is. There’s my parents, old-school money and by-the-book, who take working and succeeding very seriously. Then there are my sisters, both older, both more successful in my parents’ eyes. But that’s mainly because Monica and Karena went into the family business.”
“Which is?”
“Oh, art. I thought I told you that already. We own the Lakefield Galleries of Manhattan and soon to be Atlanta with my cousin Simone at the helm. Monica runs the gallery like a private school nun and Karena does all the buying. They’re both really good at what they do. The gallery is a huge success.”
“And you write books. No interest in art at all, huh?”
She’d begun kicking at the sand. Her painted toes were now sprinkled with the grains. He suspected she didn’t like the way her family treated her but that she got through it by putting up some sort of bravado.
“It’s not that I don’t like it. I mean, there are some really great pieces that I can appreciate. It’s just not my passion. You know what I mean?”
What Max knew without a doubt was that this small, friendly woman was full of passion, whether it be in art or writing, it was there, and should definitely be appreciated.
“I know what it means to do something you really enjoy. Most people aren’t that fortunate to have their dream job, so I’m grateful for my opportunity. You should definitely take advantage of yours and if your family doesn’t understand, then that’s their problem. Not yours.”
“My sentiments exactly,” she said with that infectious laugh of hers.
But Max sensed more. She didn’t dismiss her family’s treatment as easily as she appeared to. Then again, he’d only known her for some hours now, he could be totally wrong about her.
“I love birds,” she said almost absently, looking up toward the sky.
Max followed her gaze. “And butterflies and moonlit walks.”
“Yeah, and those too. But I really envy birds.”
“Should I be afraid to ask why?”
“I don’t get the impression you’re afraid to ask or do anything, Max Donovan,” she said honestly. There was just this air about him, this aura that seemed to surround him. Confidence. Power. Strength. All of which were filling her mind with serious hero possibilities. “I envy their freedom. They can fly anywhere they want, anytime they want. There’s nobody to stop or prevent them from traveling, from doing their own thing. It’s got to be a terrific feeling.”
“I see your point,” he said.
She wasn’t really listening for his response, her attention really was on the birds she’d seen just a moment ago that now were just about out of sight. But there was no mistaking his hand releasing hers or his body shifting so that part of the bright sunshine and her precious birds were blocked from view. All she could see now was his face, his piercing eyes and tempting mouth. He was close enough so that the scent of his cologne mixed pleasantly with the water and sand aroma. His body was just broad enough, just muscled enough to make her feel sheltered, protected.
“I’ve been thinking of something else that might elicit a pretty good feeling.”
Better than what she was feeling now that he had her sheltered by his arms? She could only imagine.
But even her imagination wasn’t that good.
His head descended slowly, just enough to have her catching her breath. His lips touched hers in a whisper, like the barest summer breeze. Impatient and hungry for more, she came up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck, opening her mouth to his. Their lips touched again, soft, slow. It was hard to follow his lead but his firm grip on her said that’s the way he wanted it. She let him kiss her slowly again, just his lips. That small