“Did you mean what you said? About not being in the market for a wife?”
Under normal circumstances, especially after last night, Donovan would have automatically taken Lani’s surprising question as expecting some promise of commitment or permanency. But observing her strangely pale face, he had to wonder if she wanted assurance that their relationship was nothing more than a one-night stand. No, not that, he corrected thoughtfully. A vacation fling. A brief affair that would last only as long as his stay here on the island.
And why wasn’t he relieved by that idea?
When he realized she was still waiting for an answer, Donovan did what any prudent man would do under the circumstances. He hedged.
“I didn’t come down here looking for a wife, if that’s what you mean.”
“Great,” she said with another of those dazzling sun-bright smiles. “I mean, that’s good to know, because it occurred to me, as I was walking on the beach, that it’d be best to clear up any possible misunderstandings. That as amazing as last night was, I mean, I actually lost count of my orgasms, and believe me, that never happens, I’m certainly not expecting you to put a ring on it.”
“Okay.” Taking the mug from her hand, he put it next to the coffee pot, lifted her onto the counter, and proceeded to add to her orgasm count.
* * *
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Not as much as I was a few minutes ago,” she said with a smile that only wobbled slightly. She’d always prided herself on not lying. Wasn’t that why she’d had to leave Los Angeles? Truth, in her business especially, had been relative. But she’d definitely lied to Donovan when she’d led him to believe that she considered this time together merely a vacation fling. “But I could eat something.”
Then minutes later, they were sitting out on the lanai, eating a breakfast of banana bread and fresh fruit.
“What did you find out at the FBI?” she asked.
“Nothing officially. But whatever your friend’s fiancé is involved in, they know about it.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Believe me, I never kid about the FBI.”
“They told you that?”
“No. Because I was acting as a civilian on non-official business. But the agent I spoke with would neither confirm nor deny.”
“And that told you they know?”
“It’s cop speak. Like ‘a person of interest.’”
She shook her head. “It has to be a mistake.”
“It’s not.”
He sounded so sure of himself Lani had no other choice but to believe him. She also wondered if there was something he wasn’t telling her, but suspected that if she pushed, he’d probably just give her that same line the FBI agent had given him.
She sipped her coffee, basking in the memory of being so thoroughly, expertly, loved. Donovan’s lovemaking had been every bit as intense as the young man she remembered him to be before he had begun his successful series of career advancements. Which brought up something else she’d been thinking about on her morning walk.
“Why do you want to join the FBI?”
“Because they’re the best.”
His eyes were gleaming with the same light Lani had seen in Nate’s eyes when her brother discussed his latest novel. Or when her father was in the planning stages of a painting. And her mother had taken on that same avid look while chiseling away on a piece of virgin stone. Able to recognize obsession when she saw it, Lani frowned as she spread orange marmalade on a thin slice of the warm, dark bread.
“What, exactly, do they do that you don’t do now?”
“It’s not that different,” he admitted. “But at a national level. While I have to go through hoops to follow a trail outside Portland… Have I told you how beautiful you are this morning?”
“You have. Several times.” She jerked her head back. “And you’re dodging the issue. Damn it, Donovan, I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”
He regarded her with that serious look he’d had when he’d first arrived. “I can see you are,” he said calmly. “So, carry on.”
“Thank you,” Lani said. “Why did you want to become a policeman in the first place?”
It had been so long since anyone had asked him that question that Donovan had to stop and remember what had made him turn down an acceptance to medical school to enter the police academy.
He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the chair arms as he considered her words.
“It’s going to sound like bragging,” he warned after a moment.
“Try me.”
“I believed I could make a difference. That I could make the world, or at least my little corner of it, a better place for people to live.”
“And, according to Nate, you’ve certainly succeeded.” She sipped her coffee.
“If I haven’t, it hasn’t been for lack of trying.”