Although he knew Tess would probably yell at him for being a chauvinist cop, on the drive up the coast from The Blue Parrot, Donovan decided not to tell Lani what Nick had shared about the mobster who’d hired the pirates. The pirates had gone down with the ship, but Donovan knew they would’ve been expendable. It was the cash the guys were looking for. Not because a quarter of a million dollars was what it once was. But from what he’d been able to tell, when he’d worked organized crime, the bad guys had long memories and held grudges all the way to their graves.
When the time came to confront the hired goons, which he hoped would be sooner rather than later, Donovan didn’t want Lani anywhere in the vicinity.
She threw herself into Donovan’s arms when he arrived at the house. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been about you?”
“I told you I could handle things,” Donovan reminded her.
“I know. But I was still going crazy.” She ran her hands over him, as if searching for hidden injuries. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Positive. Although if you want, we can go somewhere more private, and you can check me over for broken bones.”
Her eyes were bright with both relief and desire. “Remind me of that offer when we get home.”
“You’ve got a deal.”
“Did you learn anything that will put us closer to Ford?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, dear. And we were getting so close.”
“Don’t worry, something’ll turn up. It always does. Here—I brought you something.” He bent to pick up the gift bag he’d dropped when she’d jumped him.
“Oh, Donovan,” Lani murmured, as he slipped the lei over her head. “What a lovely surprise.”
“The woman at the shop told me that the ancient chiefs used these flowers to make leis for Kealehai, so I figured they’d be perfect for you.”
Her fingers plucked the feathery scarlet ohia lehua blossoms. “They used to be considered sacred,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
He shrugged. “I like buying you things, Lani.”
His words were simple, but the sudden solemnity of his tone threatened to be her undoing. Afraid she’d break into tears, she took him by the hand and led him into the solarium, where the family had decided to wait for his arrival. Greetings were exchanged, a drink was pushed into his hand, and although Margaret was nothing but gracious, Donovan got the feeling that she knew a secret she wasn’t sharing.
“Speaking of buying things,” Lani murmured, after they’d sat down for dinner. “Everyone appreciates what you did this evening at the gallery.”
“Buy three of your father’s paintings?” Donovan asked with a shrug. “That wasn’t being nice; I liked them.”
She glanced down at the glass of rum in his hand. “How many of those things did you have at The Blue Parrot before coming here? Those paintings were the worst of the bunch.”
“They couldn’t have been,” he said, playing with her thigh through the slit in the skirt beneath the tablecloth. “They were all of you.”
“How on earth could you tell?”
“Simple. I looked at them, felt the heat, and knew it couldn’t be anyone else.” He tilted his head. “Have I told you that you look absolutely nani this evening?”
Lani had noticed that, little by little over the days, native words had begun to slip into Donovan’s vocabulary. That grim business-suited man she had first seen struggling along the beach had undergone an amazing metamorphosis into the Donovan Quinn who was now sitting beside her.
Donovan was wearing a white polo shirt—she still hadn’t managed to talk him into a flowered aloha shirt—depicting a trio of surfers across his broad chest while showing off firm biceps and a pair of loose white pants. The expensive Italian loafers had given way to a pair of practical beach sandals. All in all, Lani thought that Donovan had never looked better.
He was gradually succumbing to the philosophy of hoomanawanui —let’s take it easy—with an ease that almost had Lani believing he could be happy here in paradise. With her.
“ Mahalo ,” she answered. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said. “For a malihini .”
His fingers skimmed higher, creating sparks on her leg. “Ah, but you’re prejudiced.”
Lani caught his hand before things got dangerously out of control. “You bet I am.”
* * *
As the family enjoyed after-dinner conversation out by the pool, Thomas drew Donovan aside, inviting him into the solarium.
“I think I owe you an apology,” Thomas surprised Donovan by saying as soon as they were alone.
“An apology?”
Before he could answer, Lani’s father’s phone pinged. He pulled the phone from his pocket and read the text.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave,” he said. “Debbie Akana’s baby was due last week. She’s on her way to the hospital now.”
“It must keep you busy, maintaining a general practice.”
“It’s an around-the-clock job,” Thomas agreed cheerfully. “But I love it.”
“Do you ever regret not specializing?” Donovan asked, genuinely curious. Although family practice had made a comeback of sorts in the past few years, general practitioners were still a minority.
“I did specialize,” Lani’s father corrected Donovan amiably.
“On Orchid Island?”