“I’m not certain I am,” he drawled, stretching his legs out in front of him as he subjected Lani to a slow, leisurely inspection. “Actually, the more I think about it, the more I find the idea vastly appealing.”
As she was drawn into his dancing, deep blue eyes, Lani was forced to wonder, yet again, where she had ever gotten the idea that this man was harmless. Despite the stiff, formal clothes he’d shown up in, and what appeared to be a rigid amount of self-discipline, she suddenly had the feeling that he could be every bit as unmanageable as her grandmother and her parents. Or her brother. No wonder Nate and this man had been best friends for so many years.
As he watched the slow recognition dawn in her eyes, he flashed those dimples in a satisfied male grin.
Margaret’s interested gaze did not miss the exchange between Lani and Donovan. “I like this one,” she announced. “He knows how to add zest to the chase.” Her ebony eyes sparkled up at Donovan. “There was a time when I would have enjoyed fighting that age-old battle of the sexes with you, Donovan Quinn.”
He leaned forward, taking her creased hand and raising it to his smiling lips. “Believe me, Ms. Breslin, if you’d honored me with your interest, we wouldn’t have wasted our time fighting.”
As Margaret giggled like a schoolgirl, Lani didn’t know whose behavior astounded her more—Donovan’s or her grandmother’s. Whichever, she had no more time to dwell on it as Kai returned with a tea tray, distracting Margaret’s attention once again.
“Thank you, Kai. Everything looks lovely, as usual.” She turned toward Lani and Donovan as the young man poured the steaming, fragrant brew.
“I brought you both black and green for a true sampling,” he said as he put two cups in front of Donovan, along with a thick slab of coconut cream pie. Which, although Donovan wasn’t a dessert guy, looked damn delicious. “Try the green first, because it’s the lightest. Then move on to the black.”
“Nobody brews tea like this man,” Margaret said. “Tea leaves are very delicate. Only a master brewer knows precisely how much pressure to apply in order to waken the full flavor without damaging the surface. Bruised leaves give tea a bitter taste. Isn’t that correct, Kai?” she asked brightly.
“They do,” he agreed. “Though that isn’t a problem with Island Girl, which is grown and hand picked to taste nearly the same if a buyer prefers tea bags for a shortcut.”
Donovan watched as the woman sipped her tea with the air of a wine connoisseur sampling a vintage cabernet sauvignon. “Excellent, as usual,” she proclaimed finally. “I can’t wait until we get our tasting house built and gardens planted at the site. Not only will it be a good island tourism attraction, I love educating people about tea.”
“You appear to know a great deal about it,” Donovan said to Margaret.
“I do indeed, thanks to Kai, who’s not only a brilliant grower, but a patient teacher. Of course, I did drink a lot of tea while playing the great Kublai Khan’s wife in The Romantic Adventures of Marco Polo .”
“I saw that movie just last month,” Donovan surprised both women by saying.
Lani slanted him a look that, though one of gratitude, told him he needn’t bother to lie. Donovan steadfastly ignored her.
“You were the best thing in it,” he continued. “I especially liked that part where you got down on your knees and begged your husband not to kill Marco Polo. Were those real tears?”
Margaret bobbed her head. “Of course. I never resorted to using fake tears. The studios might have cast me as a sex goddess, but I was always an actor at heart. Why, there was this one time…”
As interesting as she’d always found her grandmother’s colorful tales, Lani’s mind drifted as Margaret segued into a bit of juicy movie gossip about an off-screen affair between a hairdresser and the actor playing Marco Polo.
Lani was surprised by how instantly Donovan had taken to her eccentric grandmother. She had expected him to be polite, of course—she never would have submitted her beloved grandmother to deliberate rudeness. Reluctantly, Lani admitted that taking Donovan to her parents, and bringing him here today, were acts of self-protection.
She had wanted to establish boundaries, to prove to him that no matter how strong the physical attraction between them, they had absolutely nothing in common on which to ever base a long-term relationship.
Oil and water. That’s what they were. Shake swiftly and they might come together for a short time, but that’s all it could be. Yet, she allowed, it could be an amazing Christmas to remember…
Deciding that it was time to return home before her grandmother had her and Donovan engaged, Lani replaced her teacup on the gold-rimmed saucer with more force than necessary. Both Donovan and Margaret turned toward her.
“We should be getting back,” she said in answer to Donovan’s questioning look.