The entire eastern arc of the horizon danced with fire as Donovan rose to greet the new day. A day, he had considered on first awakening, filled with possibilities. After the previous night, he felt himself imbued with almost mystical powers; whatever he wished for would be his. Whatever he sought, he’d find. Life was his oyster, Lani his pearl, and everything was coming up roses.
He laughed as he realized that he’d slipped from waxing philosophical into mixing metaphors. Both might be uncommon behavior for him, but this was a remarkably uncommon day. Even waking to an empty bed couldn’t diminish his optimistic mood, because he had a good hunch where Lani was.
Wandering out onto the lanai, a cup of coffee in his hand, he saw her. She was strolling along the slender crescent of glistening sand, picking up the shells that littered the shoreline. The sea, illuminated by the rising sun, gleamed like molten metal almost too bright to look at.
Ah, but Lani was a different matter entirely, Donovan thought, his lips curving in an instinctive smile as he watched her pick up a shell, turn it over in her hand to study it intently, only to discard it. He could happily spend the rest of his life watching her do anything. Or nothing.
During the long and mostly sleepless night, she’d treated him to the massage her grandmother recommended.
While treated him to what turned out to be an incredibly sensual experience, Lani had explained that while technique was an important part of a Lomi Lomi massage, especially when used for healing as she was doing for his ankle, much of the practitioner’s focus was on using loving hands and a loving heart.
Both of which Lani had in spades.
“People tend to think of memory and beliefs as stores in our head. In our brains,” she’d said as her hands had moved over his body, spreading warmed coconut oil in long, continuously flowing strokes. “But Lomi Lomi belief contends that memory is stored in all the cells of our bodies, and that things like negative thoughts can block energy flow the same way as muscle tension can. And even if you don’t buy into that belief, physically the massage relieves tension and stress and increases blood flow, which aids in the elimination of toxins.”
Donovan had never been into woo-woo, although his partner had talked him into using psychics during the Cascades Killer hunt. None of whom had provided any helpful information. But he couldn’t deny that his ankle felt better this morning.
As if sensing his gaze, Lani glanced up and smiled in a way that had him feeling he’d just swallowed the sun.
“Hi,” she said a little breathlessly as she came up the wooden steps. “I couldn’t sleep. But I didn’t want to wake you.”
“I wouldn’t have minded.”
Scattering her seashells on a nearby table, she framed his smiling face in her palms. “Ah, but I didn’t want to wear you out.”
He pulled her against him with one arm. “Do you think that’s possible?”
“If last night was any indication, I’d say that was a no. In fact, if word of your stamina ever leaks out, you can say good-bye to your police career, Detective.”
She glanced down at the cup he still held in his free hand. Steam rose invitingly into the tropical morning air, and the rich fragrance of the dark Kona coffee was enticing. “What are my chances of getting a cup of that?”
“After last night, you can have anything your warm little heart desires,” he said, releasing her to return to the kitchen. “What do you mean, my career would be shot?” he asked as he made her a cup from the Keurig he’d opted for instead of digging out her French press.
“Thanks.” She took a sip of coffee. “I was referring to all those scientists who’d track you down and lock you away in some laboratory while they sought to find the secret of your amazing virility.”
Her eyes danced as she grinned at him over the rim of the mug. “If we could find a way to bottle whatever keeps you going, we’d make a fortune.”
“No problem. The answer is simple.” As his gaze turned suddenly dark, the way it had last night, when they’d been making love, Lani felt an answering warmth curling outward to her fingertips.
“It’s you, Lani,” he said with unnerving solemnity. “Only you.”
Wouldn’t it be lovely if it were that simple? Lani might have given up sex for Lent, but she was experienced enough to realize that something as rare as it was beautiful had passed between them last night. Something that if their circumstances were only different would have her shouting her love to the rooftops.
Simple? Hardly.