“He did?” Donovan racked his brain for something, anything, Nate knew that he might inadvertently let slip during an FBI background investigation.
“Oh, don’t worry,” she said, apparently picking up on his concern. “According to my brother, you’re intelligent, honest, and a terrific judge of literature.” She flashed him a quick but still devastating female smile that took him back to high school when just the sight of Madison Mayhue crossing her legs across the aisle during first-period English class could give him a boner that would last until lunch. “That last is because you read all his books, of course.”
“He’s a great storyteller.”
“You don’t have to convince me. After he sent me the advance copy of Nighthawk , I locked my doors every night for a month.”
He frowned. “You don’t now?”
“This isn’t Portland, Donovan,” Lani replied mildly. “We’re not accustomed to much crime here on Orchid Island.”
“True, but…” His voice trailed off, and he forced an abashed smile. “Sorry. That was the cop talking.”
“I suppose, given your line of work, you could develop a jaded view of the world after a while,” Lani murmured.
“Or a realistic one,” he countered, even as her words hit a bull’s-eye, making him aware of the fact that she wasn’t the only one who’d changed since that long-ago winter. “So what other deep, dark secret about my personal life has your brother let out of the bag?”
“He said you’ve become a driven workaholic who needs to relearn how to relax. Tess, by the way, agreed with his assessment.”
“Which is a classic case of the pot calling the kettle black,” he muttered, a little annoyed that he’d apparently been a topic of conversation during Nate and Tess’s visit.
“My soon-to-be sister-in-law was wound a little tightly when she first arrived,” Lani allowed. “But it didn’t take all that long for her to slip into island time. Watch that third step,” she warned as she continued toward the front door. “It’s loose. I was going to nail it down after I put in the skylight.”
“You’re putting in a skylight?”
“Nate suggested one when he asked me to do the remodel.” She entered the house, leaving him to follow. Zeroing in on the orchid tattoo rising from the waist of those cutoffs, he wondered how low that ink might go. “He didn’t tell me why he needed it done right away, especially since he and Tess are spending Christmas at her family’s winery, but as soon as I saw you struggling up the beach, I knew what my sneaky brother had in mind. He’s obviously selected you to rescue me from a lonely, celibate spinsterhood.”
“Nate only offered this place out of friendship,” Donovan assured her even as he wondered how celibate an existence any woman who looked like Lani Breslin could possibly be leading. Nate hadn’t mentioned that all the males on the island were blind.
“Not that you haven’t grown into a remarkably attractive woman,” he said sincerely, as they entered the open-concept home that, to his uneducated design eye, appeared to be a fusion of casual beach living and Asian Zen, punctuated with native carvings and bright art. “But I’m not in the market to get married right now.”
“Damn. There goes my big plan to go wedding dress shopping tomorrow. And I guess it also means we won’t be picking out a china pattern anytime soon.”
She crossed the wood floor scattered with sisal rugs. “Don’t worry,” she assured him, “we’re in full agreement on the topic. Although I think we’re in the minority these days. Even my best friend has fallen victim to the matrimonial bug.
“I’m going to be maid of honor at her ceremony at the Fern Grotto next June, and when she throws that orchid bouquet, I’m definitely going to duck. Not that I actually believe in that old wives’ tale of the woman who catches the bouquet becoming the next to wed, but there’s no point in taking any unnecessary chances, is there?”
She opened a door and waved a graceful hand in a sweeping gesture around the bedroom. “Well, welcome to Shangri-La.”
Donovan came to an abrupt halt in the doorway of the bedroom as he took in the tall, four-poster king-size bed. Draped in mosquito netting from the vaulted ceiling to the floor, the bed dominated the room. A broad beam of buttery sunshine from the overhead skylight Lani had mentioned installing cast a soft sheen on a leopard throw tossed across the end of the white sheets. The silvery sound of water tumbling over the lava stones, drew his attention to a waterfall fountain surrounded by lush, tropical green plants in a far corner of the vast room. Moroccan hammered lanterns and large, patterned pillows had been strategically placed on the dark teak floor, inviting occupants of the room to lounge in front of the fountain.