“And you call yourself a detective,” she said as she decided that the touch of his fingers on her neck was the closest thing to foreplay she’d had in a very long while. And if he could have her bones melting with just that butterfly-light touch, what could he do to her body with that perfectly shaped mouth? “I figured that out between the lighthouse and the tea.”
A long, vibrating moment hummed between them as he looked down at her, and Lani looked back up at him. Below them, the surf beat against the lava rocks crowding the narrow white beach, as it had for millions of years. The cry of seabirds, diving for fish, filled the plumeria-scented air, mingling with the carefree laughter of children frolicking in the playground adjacent to the small library building.
“Me, too. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting you,” he said.
“You’re not alone in that. Me wanting you, I mean.”
He shouldn’t feel so good, she thought, looking out at the silver splash of a family of dolphins playing offshore while she gathered her scattered thoughts. Shouldn’t taste so good. But he did, and heaven help her, she was so very, very tempted.
Lani was seriously considering taking the rest of the day off, when her phone chimed. “I’d better answer,” she said, not taking her eyes from his. “In case it’s Taylor.”
He rolled his eyes, but nodded. “Go ahead.”
It was. “Lani,” the voice, edging near hysteria asked, “is Donovan with you?”
“As a matter of fact, he is.”
“I need you,” she said between sobs. “Both of you. Now.”
“Of course.” Donovan had dropped his hands and no longer looked anything like a man on vacation with seduction in mind, but rather the crime-busting detective he was. “Where are you?”
“At Ford’s shop.” More sobs. “Hurry!”
* * *
They took her Jeep to the docks, where they found Taylor sitting in the midst of what could charitably be called a mess. It looked as if a hurricane had gone through Pacific Paradise Adventures.
Boxes of equipment had been slashed open and masks, snorkels, and tanks tossed carelessly aside. The usually well-stocked shelves were bare, their contents spread over the floor. A saltwater aquarium had been overturned; the gaily colored tropical fish lay lifeless among the wreckage. Ford’s shop had been thoroughly, expertly ransacked.
“What on earth?” Lani stared in disbelief at the scene.
“It’s no better next door,” Taylor moaned, jerking her head in the direction of the door that connected the two businesses. “It’ll take me all day to clean up all my candy-making supplies they threw out of the cupboards.”
“What were they looking for, Taylor?” Donovan asked. From his calm expression, Lani got the impression that such vandalism was a routine event for him. All in a day’s work. She marveled at his ability to remain composed when her own heart was beating like a jackhammer.
Taylor’s blonde hair skimmed her shoulders as she shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Dammit.” Donovan crouched down in front of her, grabbed her shoulders, and gave her a firm shake. “Don’t you realize this is getting serious? You could be in danger, Taylor. The goons who tore this place apart weren’t just looking for something. They made this mess was to send you a message and Ford a message and could decide to come after you next. As soon as they figure out that you know what he’s been up to.”
Taylor’s golden complexion went chalk white. “But I don’t,” she wailed. She turned accusing, tear-filled eyes toward Lani. “You didn’t tell me he was so mean.”
Lani shot Donovan a sharp look. “Can’t you see she’s had a terrible shock?” She joined them amid the rubble on the floor and took hold of her friend’s hand. “Taylor,” she coaxed softly, “why did you lie to Donovan?”
Taylor’s startled green eyes flew to Donovan, seeking confirmation of Lani’s words, but his expression remained inscrutable. “Oh, Lani,” she said, “I wanted to tell you. But I was afraid you’d think that I’m a terrible person.”
“Never,” Lani assured her.
“A few weeks ago,” Taylor said as she scrubbed at her wet cheeks with the backs of her hands, “a man came into my shop to buy some candy for his kids. He said he was an FBI agent who’d been sailing the islands and had dropped in for a meeting with the local police. Anyway, he was friendly enough, although a bit formal for my usual taste, and in a kind of stiff, mainland way, good-looking.”
She glanced over at Donovan. “Actually, now that I think about it, he reminded me a great deal of you, Donovan.”
“Thanks. I think,” Donovan returned dryly. “What did this FBI agent want with you?”
“I told you,” Taylor insisted, “he simply came into the shop to buy some saltwater taffy. But it was a slow day, and Ford had taken a two-day charter over to the Big Island, so I was grateful to have someone to talk to.”
“What did you talk about?” Donovan asked.
“Really, Donovan,” Taylor protested, “that’s a little personal.”