Touch of Fate Page 3
He’d thought about her all through the night—or the remaining hours after he’d found himself a snack in the kitchen. Laying in his bed while an almost-cool breeze seeped into his room, making the thin gauze curtains dance mysteriously, all he could see was her smiling face. There was something bright and fresh about Miss Deena Lakefield that Max hadn’t encountered in a very long time.
In the circles he and his cousins ran in back in Vegas, women came in one of two categories: fast and ready to seduce, those were the ones who knew the Donovan name and had already counted the dollar signs before smiling into the face of one of the illusive men; or naive and impressionable, those were the ones who didn’t have a clue but would have a man so tied up in scandal and delusions of love affairs he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.
No, Deena Lakefield was surprisingly different and refreshingly arousing.
Jogging down the front steps, he caught up with her just as the stone pathway turned to grass.
“Taking an afternoon stroll in lieu of the moonlight one you denied me last night?”
She turned, looked up at him, laughter already sparkling in her eyes. At her ears, large gold hoops dangled. “I didn’t deny you anything. I just didn’t feel like walking.”
Max nodded, slowing his pace so that his long stride matched her short, quick one without missing a beat.
“I didn’t ask you last night if you were here for just business or a little pleasure, too,” he said, noting the quietness that surrounded them. There wasn’t another house for miles and they were walking along the generous acreage of Sandy Pines. He wondered where she was going since he was currently following her lead. He knew which parts of the island he wanted to visit, needed to get around to visiting to secure the appropriate permits required to get started on the renovations. But for right now he was content to take some time to get to know her better. The slow Southern pace was doing something to him, something he wasn’t sure he liked.
“A little of both. I can write anywhere, but my next book is set on a secluded island.”
“Really? Does the hero save the heroine from a vicious shark attack? For which she must repay him by spending one glorious night in his bed?”
She stopped and used a hand to shade the sun from her eyes as she looked up at him. “Just how many romance novels have you read, Mr. Donovan?”
“I like it better when you call me Max.” Reaching out, he took one of her hands in his and continued their walk. “And I don’t read romance novels. The formula is just so cliché anybody would know it.”
“That’s not true. Granted, there are certain plots that work well over and over again. The author’s goal is to not be cliché, to let the characters fall in love on their own.”
“Yeah, with candlelight dinners and violinists in the background.”
“Or something as simple as lovers walking on the beach.”
Her words seemed to float on the breeze as the grass shifted to sand. Max looked to his left and saw that their walk had led them right to the shoreline. Broad Creek greeted him with glistening blue-green water and rustic sand. The sky was a periwinkle blue with the sun like a huge orange beacon in its center. The breeze was gentle, the air fresh. It was, Max thought, the perfect scene.
“Touché,” he conceded her observation and continued walking along the sand. “So that was the business portion. What’s the pleasure? Are you here alone?”
“Funny you should ask that now as you walk me along the beach, holding my hand like we’ve known each other a lifetime.”
Max chuckled and felt more relaxed here with her at this very moment than he had in the last couple of years.
“I figure you’re alone because what man would be foolish enough to let you out of his sight?”
“If you hadn’t just told me differently I’d swear you’ve been reading romance novels. You’ve got sugary lines memorized.”
“Not sugary. Honest.”
“You make a habit of being honest?” she asked.
“I try. How about you?”
She shrugged. “It’s the only way I know how to be. My family says I don’t think before I talk, so you’re never quite sure what’ll come out of my mouth.”
“I guess that can be a good and bad thing.”
“I’ve never had any problems. It’s mostly the person I’m talking to that doesn’t like something I’ve said. But that’s probably because the truth hurts.”
“Yeah, sometimes I guess it does,” he answered quietly.
“So you never said what you’re doing here at the luxurious Sandy Pines.”
“Originally this trip was all about work. But now,” he said as they came to a stop, “it’s definitely pleasure.”
“Is your company thinking of buying a resort here?”
“My mother owns the Sandy Pines,” he said, trying not to wince at the thought. However, after his complete tour of the grounds and a couple nights to really think about it, he was coming up with a strategy to make this an old Southern bed-and-breakfast exactly the way his mother remembered it.
“Really? So you’re of high class after all,” she said teasingly, remembering their conversation from last night. “Wait a minute, you said your name was Donovan, right? The oil tycoon Donovans?”
She’d turned so that instead of being beside him she was now standing in front of him.
He laughed. “One and the same.”
“And that’s funny?”
“No. I’m just glad you didn’t say The Triple Threat Donovans.”
“Really? Why?”
“They’re my cousins, Adam, Trent and Linc. They sort of have a reputation for being unobtainable.”
“All of the Donovan men have that reputation, as well as their relatives. I’ve heard all of this, not actually experienced it for myself. My sister is dating Sam Desdune. I think he’s friends with one of your cousins. Anyway, he told us all about your family.”
Max would have to remember the next time he saw Sam to jack him up for that little favor. “Sam’s a good friend of the family. The private investigation business he and Trent run is doing really well. I heard he’d finally settled down.” Another one in the growing list of relatives and close friends that were taking the leap, Max thought but didn’t say.
“I like Sam and his family. Haven’t met any of the other Donovans.”
Unable to resist touching her, Max ran a finger up and down her bare arm. “So you’ll base your judgment of them on me?”
She smiled. “No. Of course not. I’m sure they have no more control over you then my family wishes they had over me.”
“For the most part my family’s not like that. We pretty much do our own thing.”
“Even if it’s not in the family business?” There was something there in the shift in tone when she’d said that. It made Max think her life wasn’t as happy as she seemed to be.
“Sure. My cousin Linc owns two casinos and is thinking about expanding overseas. Trent went into the Navy right out of high school and is now running a P.I. firm. Adam and I are in real estate. We’ve got a cousin in construction, one in finance. We’re all over the place.”
“And your family’s cool with it. That’s great.”
“You sound like your family’s not like that. Are you going against the grain by writing books instead of doing what they want?”
“Very perceptive, Donovan,” she quipped.
“Max.”
She nodded. “Right. Max. Yeah, my family’s really different from yours. Well, at least my immediate family is. There’s my parents, old-school money and by-the-book, who take working and succeeding very seriously. Then there are my sisters, both older, both more successful in my parents’ eyes. But that’s mainly because Monica and Karena went into the family business.”
“Which is?”
“Oh, art. I thought I told you that already. We own the Lakefield Galleries of Manhattan and soon to be Atlanta with my cousin Simone at the helm. Monica runs the gallery like a private school nun and Karena does all the buying. They’re both really good at what they do. The gallery is a huge success.”
“And you write books. No interest in art at all, huh?”
She’d begun kicking at the sand. Her painted toes were now sprinkled with the grains. He suspected she didn’t like the way her family treated her but that she got through it by putting up some sort of bravado.
“It’s not that I don’t like it. I mean, there are some really great pieces that I can appreciate. It’s just not my passion. You know what I mean?”
What Max knew without a doubt was that this small, friendly woman was full of passion, whether it be in art or writing, it was there, and should definitely be appreciated.
“I know what it means to do something you really enjoy. Most people aren’t that fortunate to have their dream job, so I’m grateful for my opportunity. You should definitely take advantage of yours and if your family doesn’t understand, then that’s their problem. Not yours.”
“My sentiments exactly,” she said with that infectious laugh of hers.
But Max sensed more. She didn’t dismiss her family’s treatment as easily as she appeared to. Then again, he’d only known her for some hours now, he could be totally wrong about her.
“I love birds,” she said almost absently, looking up toward the sky.
Max followed her gaze. “And butterflies and moonlit walks.”
“Yeah, and those too. But I really envy birds.”
“Should I be afraid to ask why?”
“I don’t get the impression you’re afraid to ask or do anything, Max Donovan,” she said honestly. There was just this air about him, this aura that seemed to surround him. Confidence. Power. Strength. All of which were filling her
mind with serious hero possibilities. “I envy their freedom. They can fly anywhere they want, anytime they want. There’s nobody to stop or prevent them from traveling, from doing their own thing. It’s got to be a terrific feeling.”
“I see your point,” he said.
She wasn’t really listening for his response, her attention really was on the birds she’d seen just a moment ago that now were just about out of sight. But there was no mistaking his hand releasing hers or his body shifting so that part of the bright sunshine and her precious birds were blocked from view. All she could see now was his face, his piercing eyes and tempting mouth. He was close enough so that the scent of his cologne mixed pleasantly with the water and sand aroma. His body was just broad enough, just muscled enough to make her feel sheltered, protected.
“I’ve been thinking of something else that might elicit a pretty good feeling.”
Better than what she was feeling now that he had her sheltered by his arms? She could only imagine.
But even her imagination wasn’t that good.
His head descended slowly, just enough to have her catching her breath. His lips touched hers in a whisper, like the barest summer breeze. Impatient and hungry for more, she came up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck, opening her mouth to his. Their lips touched again, soft, slow. It was hard to follow his lead but his firm grip on her said that’s the way he wanted it. She let him kiss her slowly again, just his lips. That small act stole her breath.
It seemed like a luxurious but painful forever before he deepened the kiss, his tongue moving slowly, erotically, over hers. It wasn’t like a practiced dance or even a pleasant symphony, but more like a tidal wave of intense pleasure and longing. His palms flattened on her back, one moving just inches above her bottom. She pressed into him, or was he pulling her closer? She couldn’t really tell, didn’t actually care. All that mattered at this moment was the absolute perfect way in which Max mastered her mouth. It would have been like he was teaching her what he liked, except she felt like she already knew. The kiss was strangely familiar and yet the man was one she’d just met. It was beyond odd, but damned delicious so she wasn’t about to complain.
When he finally pulled away from her Max wasn’t sure what time of day it was or where they were for that matter. All he knew was that he definitely liked kissing Miss Deena Lakefield.
“That was better than looking at the birds,” she said, her signature smile spreading quickly across her face.
Liking that smile and appreciating those lips even more he found himself chuckling. “I wholeheartedly agree.”
Chapter 3
It was late afternoon by the time Max had finished walking the grounds of Sandy Pines and talking to some of the natives of the island. There were two other properties within walking distance of Sandy Pines. Well, they weren’t actually in normal walking distance, a total of seven miles each way, but he was used to moving around and working out, so it hadn’t bothered him.
He needed to get an idea of the tone of this island. What the people liked or didn’t like. He wasn’t shocked to learn there were lots of rules about building on the island, lots of restrictions he’d have to make sure he followed. While Hilton Head had been turned into a resort haven, the town still wished to hold on to its original small-town feel. As he walked back, looking at the magnificent scenery ideas for the new and improved Sandy Pines flowed through his mind.
Along with thoughts of a certain pretty woman. After their impromptu walk on the beach this morning she’d said she had to work. He understood as he was here to work as well, so they’d parted ways. But he’d thought of her on and off all day. It felt weird for Max to think about a woman this much, that wasn’t his normal reaction to women.
As a Donovan he automatically had a reputation for being a playboy, even if it was unfounded. Unlike his cousins, he wasn’t mentioned in the local gossip pages for his reputed womanizing. Here and there because he was a Donovan, his name would appear if he were at some big function or had a date that had a little popularity of her own. But that wasn’t often and it wasn’t a reputation Max tried to play to. On the contrary, he led a much more solitary and out-of-the-spotlight life than his more famous relatives. That was a purposeful move designed to protect not only himself but the women that he may become involved with.
Max’s definition of being involved with a woman wasn’t the same as the other Donovans either. He didn’t do long-term, at all. Two to three dates max was about all he could manage. He wasn’t a stranger to sex but didn’t use that as a reason to scope out women either. No, Max was not the normal Donovan on the inside. On the outside was another story entirely. Then again, he knew that people were going to see what they wanted to see in a person. So the reputation preceded him, that didn’t mean he had to live up to it.
It was a warm afternoon so since he’d worked for the better part of the day, Max decided to take a little time for himself. Leaving his room, he took a back staircase that led down to the first floor and a door that opened right up to the large pool at the back of the house. The water looked refreshing in the early summer heat of South Carolina. So, after dropping his towel on a lounge chair, he wasted no time diving in.
He was swimming underwater when a pair of legs caught his attention. Heading directly for them, he surfaced and was rewarded once again with one of the prettiest smiles he’d ever seen.
“Hi, again,” she said with a little chuckle.
“Hello.” Max grinned, a quick punch of lust landing in his gut. Was there anything this woman wore that didn’t look absolutely sinful?
Her bikini top was a deep purple color this time, cupping high, full breasts that had his mouth watering. Through the crystal clear water he could see a skimpy bottom and swallowed to keep from drooling like a horny teenager.
“Great minds must think alike,” he said.
“They must.”
“I thought you were writing.”
“It was too hot. I wanted to come outside, enjoy some of the scenery. Well, enjoy the pool.” She laughed.
“I hear you, I couldn’t resist it either.”
“You have great form,” she said.
He looked a little lost for a minute so she amended her words. “I watched you dive in. Do you swim often?”
He grinned. “Yeah. I try to hit the gym every day. A swim always follows my workout. What about you? How often are you at the gym?”
“How’d you know I go to the gym?” she wondered.
He took her wrist, lifted her arm out of the water into the air. “This type of toning is not natural. So whatever you’re doing in the gym, keep it up. You have a terrific body.”
If she were hot from the temperature outside, Max Donovan had just wracked up the degrees with that comment. Deena had watched a little more than just his diving form when he’d joined her in the water.
She’d seen him the moment he stepped from the house. His trunks weren’t anything fancy, but gave her a terrific view of his muscled thighs. A bare chest had every nerve in her body tingling and great biceps sort of topped the entire package off. He looked good but didn’t carry himself like he knew he looked good. She liked that. A lot.
“Thanks,” she responded. “You’re not too bad yourself.” She was trying to sound nonchalant, like she swam with gorgeous guys with enticing bedroom eyes all the time. Not!
They frolicked in the water awhile, racing each other, then dunking each other like little kids. Deena’s side hurt from laughing so much. She was loving the idea of taking this trip now, despite what anybody else said, she had a feeling this was going to be a great summer.
And as she came up from another one of Max’s sneak-attack dunks, his hands circled her waist, holding her close to the rigid contours of his body.
“I’ve never met a woman like you,” he said, his pensive green eyes staring down at her.
She was nervous, but refused to show it. “Is that a good or bad thing?” she asked, treading water.
He licked his lips. “I’m beginning to think it’s a really good thing.”
His head began to lower and Deena’s toes began to tingle. Oh goodness, he was going to kiss her again. The kiss this morning still lingered on lips, another one would surely be the end of her.
“Good,” she whispered seconds before his lips could touch hers.