“Sometimes, when I’m feeling down, I’ll come up here and just sit on the beach, watching the waves. Before long, I’ll believe in the magic again.”
Donovan slipped his arm loosely over the back of her seat. “That’s important to you, isn’t it? The magic?”
He could hear her soft, rippling sigh. “This will probably only reconfirm your feeling that I’m crazy. But I do believe in the magic. Sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps me centered during difficult times.”
Her solemnly spoken words cut through to some hidden core. Donovan hadn’t expected such a serious answer to what had been an idle question.
He studied her profile carefully, unwillingly intrigued by this new aspect of Nate’s sister. As far as he had been able to tell, Lani lived the carefree existence of a tropical nymph. What could she possibly know about hardship? Yet the note of pain he detected in her soft voice suggested hidden depths she wasn’t yet prepared to share.
“Are you still mad at me?” she asked. “I know I was wrong to tell Taylor that you’d help her find Ford, but she was so upset, and Nate’s always telling me that you’re the smartest detective on the West Coast, so when the idea popped into my head, I just blurted it out.”
Her expression was so earnest that Donovan couldn’t resist a smile. “I suppose I could talk to her,” he agreed reluctantly.
“That’s very nice of you, Donovan. Remind me to reward you for this display of gallantry.”
He leaned across the console, and, with a finger, lifted her chin. “I have every intention of doing exactly that…”
Slowly, deliberately, he closed the gap between them, bent his head, and took her mouth. Their lips touched once. Briefly. Lightly. Then again. And again.
He certainly didn’t kiss like a man suffering from burnout, Lani thought as sunshine seemed to flow through her veins. Taking her hand, which had somehow lifted to his shoulder, he pressed it against his chest. While her heart was beating like a rabbit’s, his heartbeat was strong and hard. Just like the rest of him.
“If this is the reward I get for agreeing to talk to your friend, I can’t wait for the payoff when I find the guy,” he said, touching his lips to her temple.
Lani closed her eyes briefly, luxuriating in the feel of his lips against her skin. “Then you do believe that something’s happened to him? That he hasn’t really jilted Taylor?”
“I believe Taylor believes that,” Donovan hedged.
“But you don’t.” Before he could respond, Lani drew apart and held up the hand that had been exploring his chest beneath the T-shirt. “Please don’t answer that until after you’ve talked with her and heard the story firsthand.”
“I suppose that’s next on the agenda?” Although he knew he was playing with fire, Donovan could think of a great many more pleasurable ways to spend an afternoon with Lani. Beginning with washing off the salt water from snorkeling beneath that outdoor rain shower Nate had had her put in.
“No, Taylor has to go to Honolulu tonight—something about a mix-up with the company that supplies her chocolate, which is really important because she’s got a big order to ship out to California—so you’re meeting her tomorrow morning for breakfast.”
“For someone so upset, it seems she’s got her priorities a little reversed.” In his line of work, that was definitely a red flag.
“She’s already gone to the police,” Lani said, the lack of conviction in her voice revealing she shared his misgivings, but wasn’t prepared to admit it. “And got them to notify the Coast Guard to watch out for his boat. But she also has an interview to appear on Shark Tank, so it’s vital that the order go out on time and sell well so she’ll impress the investors enough to make a deal that will allow her to continue to expand her company off the island.”
“I imagine appearing on that program is quite a coup.”
“There’s a lot of competition,” she agreed.
“I don’t suppose you had anything to do with her beating the contestant odds.”
“I may have made a few calls,” she said, with a vague wag of her hand. “I do still have friends in the business. But I wouldn’t have contacted them solely for friendship. Her chocolate really is that good. Wait until you taste her Macadamia dark chocolate truffles. They’re to die for.”
From Lani’s description, and the brief meeting, Taylor Young didn’t sound like the type of black widow who ended up on all those court television shows on trial for murdering a lover, fiancé, or husband. But the situation, which wasn’t yet a case, had Donovan’s spidey senses tingling. Still, FBI study books aside, he was supposed to be here on vacation, this wasn’t his jurisdiction, it would probably turn out to be nothing, and the idea of an evening alone with Lani trumped talking to a bride-to-be who appeared more concerned about growing her business than finding her missing fiancé.