“Don’t worry,” she told him. “It’s only another one of Daddy’s unveiling ceremonies. He assures me that he’s created yet another masterpiece.”
“Last time I was here, your father was a doctor,” he said as they walked along the hard-packed sand at the edge of the water. She’d stayed barefoot, while he’d kept his loafers on. A mistake, he realized as the familiar ache started in again. He probably should have kept up with those range-of-motion exercises his doctor had prescribed, but after Matt had eaten his gun, even getting out of bed had proven an effort.
“He still is. One of those old-fashioned family practitioners. Oh, look!” She pointed up at the top of a jagged cliff rising inland. Shrouded in silver mist, it was softened by the touch of a rainbow. “Make a wish.”
“Why?”
“Because of the rainbow, of course.” She closed her eyes. “Hurry, before it disappears.”
Feeling more than a little foolish, Donovan found himself doing as she’d instructed. Unfortunately, closing his eyes had him missing the wave that filled his shoes with wet sand.
“There,” she said with satisfaction, opening her eyes again. “I feel lucky tonight. I hope you wished for something wonderful, Donovan, because I just know it will come true.”
“I thought it was the first star people wished on.”
“That only happens once a day,” she explained blithely. “If you wish on rainbows, sometimes you get a chance for two or three wishes every day. The odds are much better.”
Before he could respond to that idea, a huge beast the size of a small horse came bounding down the hard-packed sand, a long pink tongue lolling from its mouth. A moment later, the beast, which turned out to be a boisterous Harlequin Great Dane, stood on his hind legs, his huge paws braced on Lani’s bare shoulders as he joyfully licked her face.
“Meet Horatio,” she said, appearing unperturbed as she brushed wet sand off the front of her dress. “Horatio, this is Mr. Quinn. He’s a very good friend of Nate’s, so I want you to treat him like one of the family.”
She bent and picked up a piece of driftwood, throwing it into the water. Horatio took off after it, barking enthusiastically.
“He’s spoiled rotten, of course,” she said as they watched the dog splashing in the surf as he retrieved the stick. “So you’d best humor him. It’s all Daddy’s fault.”
“He’s your father’s dog?”
“In a way. You see, Daddy always wanted two sons and two daughters, but mother felt one of each should be enough for any family. Especially when the two children in question were so amazingly exemplary.”
“You won’t get any argument from me on that point.”
“Thank you, Donovan.” She flashed him a pleased smile. “That was precisely what you were supposed to say. Anyway,” she said, picking up the threads of the story, “a few months ago, Daddy rescued Horatio from the animal shelter.
“He’s adopted,” she said under her breath as the huge black-and-white animal came bounding back, the stick between his wide jaws. “But no one has had the heart to tell him. He’s really very sensitive.”
“He’s also a dog.”
“True, though he doesn’t seem to realize that. While I don’t entirely agree with Daddy on the subject, I respect his right to keep the facts of Horatio’s adoption from him. For the time being.” Lani reached down and patted the happily panting dog on the head. “After all, he is only a puppy. When he’s older, he’ll be able to understand much better.”
Donovan searched her face for a hint of humor and found none. He wondered why Nate had never told him that his sister was slightly off-kilter. Then, thinking of Nate Breslin, living in a haunted house with the ghost of a sea captain for a roommate while he wrote lurid tales about things that go bump in the night, Donovan realized Nate might have never noticed. The Breslin family apparently had a looser standard than most when it came to normalcy. Which was why he never would’ve predicted Lani’s older brother and law-and-order, by-the-book Tess Lombardi would be such a perfect fit.
“I won’t say a thing,” Donovan agreed as they approached a sprawling, three-story white island-style plantation house overlooking the water. It was lit up with so many white Christmas lights, he wouldn’t have been surprised if planes mistook the roof for a runway.
“You’re still a very nice man, Donovan,” she said. “I think I just may forgive my brother for sending you down here to seduce me, after all.”
Standing on her toes, which she’d polished the same shiny coral as her fingernails, she brushed her lips against his. Donovan felt a flash of heat and flame before she broke the all-too-brief contact.
“Blue, I think,” she mused aloud.
“Blue?”