Desire a Donovan

by A. C. Arthur

  “Early night?”

  Clutching her chest she spun around barely making out the outline of his face in the dimly lit foyer. “Crap! What are you doing lurking around in the dark?”

  “Waiting for the girls to come in from their night of partying. I see you’re the first to make it home. You okay?” he asked, taking a step closer to her so that she could see the tank top he usually wore when he worked out and the basketball shorts that grazed his knees.

  “Yeah, I’m home, so you can stand down now,” she said, pushing past him and heading for the kitchen.

  But he grabbed her arm making her exit difficult. “Wait a minute. How was the prom? Did you have fun?”

  Lyra sighed. “No, it wasn’t fun, but I didn’t expect it to be.” Her entire arm had become warm from his touch, so she squirmed until he let her go.

  “Stanford not an ideal date, huh?”

  Lyra shrugged. “He was what he was supposed to be, I guess. I just didn’t want to go in the first place.”

  “I know you don’t like dressing up,” he said while reaching out a hand and lifting the skirt of the knee-length taffeta dress she wore. “But you look really nice.”

  Something about the way his voice dipped when he said that had her heart pounding. She didn’t know what to say or do so she just stood there looking at him, wanting him.

  “So you and this guy getting serious?”

  Lyra cleared her throat. “I don’t know.” And she really didn’t. She didn’t want to consider getting serious with any guy right now, especially since Mark wasn’t the guy she really liked.

  She wanted Dion Donovan, and she knew she shouldn’t. He was off-limits. Try telling that to her body.

  “Do you want to be serious with him?”

  “Do you want to be serious with Tish Hamilton?” she countered. Dion’s flavor of the month was Tish, daughter of Congressman Lloyd Hamilton. Or at least she was the flavor when Dion was home. While he was away at school he had an array of other flavors that Tish, in all her naive stupidity, didn’t know about.

  He smiled. The corner of his mouth lifted and his eyes gleamed, which meant that what she’d said amused him. Lately, it seemed he gave her that look a lot.

  Now it was his turn to shrug. “You know how it is.”

  “No. Why don’t you tell me?”

  “She’s just here every time I come home—nothing real serious. Just someone to hang out with.”

  “So that’s all you’re doing, is hanging out with her? She and her mother are already picking out her wedding gown.”

  His fingers still played with her dress and he stood a little too close for her comfort.

  “That’s not my problem. I’ve never made her any promises.”

  “But you haven’t told her she’s a convenience, either?”

  “Nah, I haven’t.” He chuckled. “But I was asking about you and Stanford. He’s your boyfriend, right?”

  Lyra folded her arms over her chest because she didn’t know what else to do with them. “I guess.”

  “Did you let him kiss you tonight?”

  The question startled her, and Lyra took a step back until Dion could no longer toy with her dress and his scent could no longer assault her senses. Clearing her throat, she finally stammered, “That’s n-none of your business.”

  “Come on, Lyra. We don’t keep secrets. I can tell you any and everything, and you can trust me to do the same. We’ve always been like that.”

  He was right. Even thoughts she couldn’t share with Regan, who was the same age as she was, Lyra could share with Dion. It had been like that for so long she could barely remember when they weren’t there for each other. Tonight, however, it just seemed different.

  “I didn’t want him to kiss me,” she whispered.

  Dion moved closer again. “Why?”

  She was looking into his eyes now, eyes that were normally laughing or at least friendly. Tonight they seemed darker, more entrancing. He kept his gaze locked on hers as he stepped closer to her. She continued to retreat until the banister jabbing into her spine stopped her.

  “Why what?” She swallowed because her throat was suddenly very dry.

  “Why didn’t you want him to kiss you?”

  “I just didn’t,” she answered breathily. His chest, the hard ridges of carefully maintained muscle, pressed against her body.

  “He should have kissed you,” Dion said, his voice getting lower.

  This was crazy. Why was Dion pressed against her this way? And why was her body reacting to it? Her arms and fingers tingled and wanted to wrap around him, touch him and feel him. Thoughts were swimming around in her head until breathing was becoming a chore.

  “No. I didn’t want to kiss him.”

  “Who do you want to kiss?” he asked.

  Lyra closed her eyes.

  She wanted his kiss, Dion’s—the one person who had vowed to protect her like a big brother all her life. She wanted his familiar lips on hers—the same lips that had shared numerous fudge pops with her because they were their favorites.

  “I—” She couldn’t speak, couldn’t tell him in words. Then again, she didn’t need to. Dion and Lyra had always had a close relationship, from the moment she’d first set foot into the Donovan house. She’d related to him even more so than to his mother, who had brought her home. They were always in tune with each other. Now was no different.

  Dion’s hand snaked around her neck and tilted her head while dipping his head closer—so close his breath grazed her lips.

  “Do you want me to kiss you, Lyra?”

  Her mind screamed no! But her body melded against his in defiance, her hands going to his biceps where her fingers dug in and held on tight. “Yes,” she whispered, and then one of her many dreams about Dion came true.

  As her eyes fluttered shut and fireworks exploded inside her head, Dion’s lips touched hers with a soft sweep. Then both his hands were cupping her face, pulling her closer. She stood on tiptoe to reach him as his lips slanted over hers again. When his tongue swiped over her sensitive skin Lyra gasped, opening her mouth to him. His tongue was quick and experienced, sweeping inside and coaxing hers to join in the game. With long swishing motions he lavished her mouth. His hard body pressed hers painfully into the banister, but the pain was muted by the stark pleasure of his kiss and his touch.

  This was by far the best part of her senior prom and Lyra wanted the moment to last forever, wanted this kiss to go on and on until she could see and breathe nothing and no one else but Dion.

  But it wasn’t meant to be.

  Dion pulled back abruptly staring down at her as if she’d just grown two heads. His hands dropped to his sides and he backed away.

  She stood there like an idiot because her feet wouldn’t allow her to do anything else.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled as he continued to back away. He was moving past her through the double doors that led down another hall and to the kitchen before she could respond, which was a good thing because even ten years later, Lyra had no idea what her response would have been.

  What she did know now was that she was still in love with Dion Donovan. She still wanted his touch and his kiss just as badly as she had that night she stood in the foyer as the naive high school senior. And she was still in just as much denial about it as she was then.

  Chapter 6

  When they were seated at a table with the same chairs and tables as the last time she was here, Lyra picked up the menu and read it like she didn’t have a clue what was on it. Across the table from her, Dion did the same, then ordered two glasses of water and two Cokes.

  “So how was the shoot?” he asked.

  “I think I got some pretty good shots, with no help from Vina, though. Why didn’t you warn me how difficult she was?”


  “Figured you’d read that much in the tabloids.”

  “Nobody believes those things. But I guess in this case they may be partly true. Did I tell you she slapped her assistant twice? The poor girl didn’t know whether she was coming or going after that last hit and the rest of her entourage just looked away like it was something that happened daily.”

  Dion shook his head. “It probably is. It’s a shame what people will do for money.”

  “Yeah,” Lyra said, wondering if he was referring to the diva Vina or her mother. Paula was a sore subject between them, always had been.

  Janean Donovan had come to an elementary school play at a school that one of their foundations was donating money to, and she’d seen ten-year-old Lyra cleaning up the stage after the play. Lyra remembered with startling clarity how embarrassed she was when the impeccably dressed woman with the big smile and large bright jewelry had spoken to her. Since mostly all the students had already gone home with their parents, Janean was confused as to why Lyra was still there. Lyra never told her that she spent a lot of nights locked in the janitor’s closet waiting for school the next day to avoid having to return to the one-bedroom apartment where her mother was either passed out or entertaining company. But somehow she figured Janean already knew.

  “I hate people like her. You know, ones that have a lot, but don’t know what to do with it or appreciate it. They just make me sick.”

  Dion rubbed a hand over his chin. “I agree.”

  “What’s up with you?” she asked, putting her menu down finally. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

  His fingers froze, and his hand dropped from his face. “No. I don’t. Just thought you needed a pick-me-up after a long day.”

  She nodded, not believing him for one minute. “And how was your day?”

  “Work is work, you know that,” he said, nonchalantly. Something was definitely bothering him.

  “Infinity’s doing great. Back in L.A. there was lots of buzz about it expanding internationally. Are you working on that?”

  Dion drank a little of his water and replied, “We had a meeting about distribution yesterday. It’s looking good. We’re also talking about launching a program based on the magazine on DNT. We’d continue with the fashion highlights and entertainment news, and expand our entrepreneurs spotlight section a bit. Sean has some great ideas and so does Regan. Savian’s a little reserved about the move, though.”

  “Savian’s a little reserved about everything,” Lyra said with a light chuckle. “But it sounds like a great idea. On the fashion side, you know I had a chance to meet your cousin Adam’s wife, Camille. CK Davis Designs is getting a lot of attention from Hollywood stars. What do you think about maybe doing a spotlight on her? Maybe DNT could develop a reality show around a designer’s life. I mean, she started her company and has grown it into something spectacular. All the stylists in L.A. have her on speed dial now.”

  Dion watched her as she talked. He’d missed their conversations over the years while she’d been away. Sure, they wrote to each other and talked on the phone every once in a while. Their text messages were much more frequent. But none of that gave him as much satisfaction as sitting here looking into her deep brown eyes and hearing her voice in person.

  “Have you been eavesdropping on my private meetings, Ms. Anderson?” he asked with a smile. “Sean and I have been tossing around some of those ideas for months. We were all just out in Vegas for the dedication ceremony for Adam and Camille’s baby. That’s when the idea first hit us. With all the reality shows getting huge ratings, we figured this would be a good time for DNT to take the plunge.”

  “Then great minds must think alike.” She smiled at him as the waitress came to take their order. “I’ll have the pork, potato salad and baked beans.”

  The tiny waitress nodded as she scribbled on her pad. “What kind of sauce?”

  Dion answered for her. “Sweet, and put the bread on the side.”

  Lyra smiled at him again. He loved when she did that, when her face lit up with happiness that made her eyes sparkle. He especially loved the fact that it was all for him. At least for now, he’d been the one to make that sparkle appear, to make her happy.

  “How do you still remember what I like to eat?” she said.

  “I remember everything about you, Lyra.” And that was the honest truth. It didn’t matter how long she’d been away, there wasn’t any detail he didn’t remember about her. Everything about Lyra was etched in his mind, as if losing even one minor detail would somehow mean losing her.

  He placed his order and the food arrived quickly. The conversation once again settled on Infinity and plans for the future.

  “I’d like you to cover Fashion Week in New York in the fall, then travel to London, Milan and Paris. We’re planning a special issue and want lots of great photos. Of course, Regan will go with you to interview the designers.”

  “Camille will no doubt be there.”

  “I know, and we’ll include her in the feature. Hopefully by that time we’ll have met with her and her reps, and development for a reality show or a series in the magazine or on the network will be ready to announce. Sean’s keeping in touch with Adam to see when Camille will be ready to start taking meetings.”

  “You’re sure you want me to do the entire Fashion Week shoot?” she asked, a little uneasy about the assignment.

  He took a bite of his ribs, marveling in the taste of the spicy sauce. After swallowing, he wiped his fingers and replied, “What kind of question is that? Of course I want you to handle it.”

  “I’m just saying that I’m the newest photographer on staff. Don’t you think it’ll look bad, you giving me all the plum assignments?”

  “No. I think it’ll look smart, me giving you all the choice assignments. Look, Infinity is more than just my job. You, of all people should know that. It’s a part of my father’s legacy. It’s up to us to make this as good as the rest of the Donovan enterprises. I’m not about to take any chances with that. The fact that you’re family has nothing to do with how good you are, or how highly sought-after you’re becoming. Hell, we’ll be lucky if in five years the magazine can afford to keep you.”

  “All right, all right, you don’t have to go overboard,” she said, laughing. “I was just asking. You know I don’t want any special treatment.”

  “And believe me, you’re not going to get any. Those pics better be good enough for the cover or you’re going to have to go to Vina’s house to take some more.”

  “Argghhh. Please don’t threaten me like that.” Lyra rolled her eyes.

  They both laughed, and for the first time in weeks Dion was able to relax. That was until his cell phone rang and he looked down at the screen.

  “Problem?” Lyra asked.

  “With a capital P” was his reply. “Excuse me a minute.” He pressed the talk button and said, “Dion Donovan.”

  “Where the hell are you? We were supposed to meet for dinner.”

  There was a time—Dion fought desperately to remember—when he’d thought the deep smoky timbre of Katrina Saldana’s voice was attractive. Lately, however, every time he heard her voice, the sound grated on his nerves just a little more.

  “I’m having dinner now and you’re interrupting,” he said sternly.

  “What? You’re having dinner where? With whom? Okay, no, don’t answer that. Just pick me up when you finish, we need to talk,” she said, clearly exasperated with him again.

  “Not tonight,” he said in a clipped tone.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I said not tonight.”

  “Then tomorrow? Or will you stand me up then, too?”

  This wasn’t a conversation Dion wanted to repeat, but if she insisted on ignoring the obvious he’d tell her again. “Listen, Katrina, w
e’ve talked about all we need to talk about. I thought you understood where we stand now.”

  She sighed heavily. “Dion, I just want to talk to you. Really, baby, you’re being petty by avoiding my calls and standing me up.”

  “And you’re being unrealistic. I don’t think there’s anything else for us to talk about.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Then that’s something you’ll have to work out on your own.” Dion disconnected the call before Katrina could respond, no doubt irritating him even more.

  “Katrina the Clinger,” Lyra said, putting a forkful of pork into her mouth and smiling as she chewed.

  “Shut up and eat.”

  “I thought you said you broke up with her?” she said, covering her mouth as she chewed.

  “I did. Apparently she doesn’t listen very well.”

  “Apparently. So who are you seeing now since you’ve let Katrina and her gold-plated hooks go?”

  “Why do you keep referring to her by some tabloid-created name?”

  “Because she’s exactly what the tabloids describe—an opportunistic gold digger who’ll set her sights on any rich man who will put a ring on it and maintain her luxurious lifestyle.”

  He had to chuckle at that, since she’d managed to say it with a straight face like she was just stating the facts.

  “That’s exactly why I ended things with her,” he said, only half truthfully.

  “But everybody wants to be with Dion Donovan. Your reputation precedes you, sir.”

  Dion finished off his water, then reached for the cold beer he’d ordered. “Well, it’s a good thing you know me better than my reputation.”

  Propping her elbows on the table Lyra simply watched him. “Yeah, it’s a good thing.”

  * * *

  They didn’t talk about Katrina anymore, which suited Dion just fine. Instead he was able to thoroughly enjoy the time alone with Lyra—time he’d missed too much while she’d been away.

  Since she was staying at the Big House, that’s where Dion followed her to in his car. His intention was to see her inside, then return to his condo. But of course, where Lyra was concerned, things hardly ever went as they were supposed to.