Touch of Fate. A.C. Arthur

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Touch of Fate - A.C. Arthur Mills & Boon Kimani

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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

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