In The Arms of a Donovan: A Sexy BBW Billionaire Family Series Romance (The Donovans Book 13)

by A. C. Arthur

  Would she have noticed Brandon there? Would he have noticed her with his family and countless other guests in the midst? Well, he’d noticed her on that crowded pool deck.

  Amber was no stranger to being noticed. All her life she’d been the cute big-boned girl. In school guys would even say stupid things like, “Damn she’s cute, but she’s thick.” Like that was such a bad thing. It wasn’t, as Amber had learned when the older guys began hitting on her. There were obviously some men that liked their women with some cushion. Amber had found that endearing and encouraging. She’d also realized at the almost too late point in her life, that it didn’t matter what men wanted from her. All that ultimately mattered was what she wanted for herself.

  Amber came from a family of thick women. While the men carried their weight in their height and broad builds, Amber, her mother Zelda, sisters Rita, Delta and Fiona, were all big girls, and proud of it. Those four women had been a big part of the reason Amber signed that first modeling contract. She’d never seen herself as a model, never even considered it as a possibility but one day, while she was working at the make-up store she managed, a woman had come in and told her how perfect she was for the job. A week, and dozens of pictures later, a panel of three men and that same woman, unanimously approved Amber as ‘the new plus-sized face’, whatever that meant.

  “I’m not a model,” Amber recalled saying that night as she sat in her parents’ backyard. Her father was cooking on the grill, while the women sat sipping from glasses of Zelda’s honey iced tea.

  “You are whatever you want to be,” Zelda chimed in immediately. “If those people think you have something and you’re willing to give it a good honest try, then I know you’ll be fabulous.”

  “Of course she’ll be fabulous,” Rita, her oldest sister added. “She’s my sister after all.”

  Amber smiled. Of the sisters, Rita and Amber were the two that were always into fashion and make-up. They looked good ten minutes after rolling out of bed, a point which the others always teased them about.

  Delta, on the other hand, was the contemplative one. “How will this affect your job at the store? You certainly don’t want to throw away all that you’ve worked for to take this chance.”

  When Rita looked at her sister, who was younger by two years, with a frown, Delta had held up a hand to ward off her sister’s impending tirade.

  “I am not saying she won’t do well at modeling. If any of us could pull this off it would be Amber with her vivacious personality. I’m just making sure she stays grounded in this endeavor,” Delta started.

  “Well, I think it’s a great opportunity,” Fiona, the youngest girl and fraternal twin to their brother Frankie, added. “It’s about time us thick-‘ems had representation on the runways and in magazines. We’re beautiful too and the world needs to know it.”

  That had become the mantra Amber repeated in her mind over and over again each time she stepped in front of the camera. She was beautiful, no matter what size she wore, and the world needed to know it. Amazingly, three years after she began modeling, the foundation called her to pitch the idea of a global effort expounding on her mantra. She’d loved every second of sharing her story and motivating other plus-size people, but she was happy to see the tour coming to an end.

  Amber missed being home for family dinners. She missed arguing with her brothers and sitting in her living room watching television with Essie on her lap. She was a simple girl, who liked the simple things in life. Globetrotting, always being in front of a camera or audience, and in work-mode twenty-four seven was all taking a toll on her. But she wasn’t a quitter. She was determined to see this job through until the end, or rather, until another spokesperson was named for the foundation which would probably be sometime next year. They wanted to keep the faces fresh and diverse and were even considering going with a man for the next round of publicity. Amber thought that was a fabulous idea, and not just because she would be able to return home for good. She definitely planned to keep working with the Foundation because she believed in the cause and their message, she just wanted to do so from the background.

  Which was where she was planning to stay today. In the background of all the other tourists heading off the ship to see the gorgeous island. Fiona wanted a purse and her mother’s birthday was in two weeks so Amber planned to get her something special from each port of call the ship made, for her gift. It was with these thoughts in mind that Amber followed the line of people disembarking. From her bag she retrieved her hat and her sunglasses, pulling the floppy brim down to partially hide her face and slipping on the shades. She was smiling to herself as she stepped down onto the pier ready to enjoy her day.

  She was so ready that when a group of excited teenagers pushed past her, Amber giggled right along with them, instead of cursing them for not being more careful. She’d even continued with her good mood when another push came from behind her. Only this time the comment that followed wiped that smile quickly from her face.

  “Move it fat ass!” the man snapped.

  This time Amber stopped. She pulled off her glasses and looked up at the guy saying, “You move it asshole,” before shoving him right back.

  When the man, who was rail thin and had almost lost his footing with Amber’s push, turned back to her, his face had turned ruby red and his fists were balled at his sides. He headed towards her, ready to do what she wasn’t totally sure, when a strong hand grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back immediately.

  She looked at the person who’d grabbed the man and felt her heart flutter once again, at the sight of Brandon Donovan.

  #

  Brandon was not in the best of moods. In fact, that was the main reason he’d decided to leave the ship and walk around outside for a while. He needed to clear his head after the email message he’d received this morning.

  Dane wants to meet with the Seniors and take a DNA test. He wants to know who his father is. Want to get your thoughts on this since your father is directly involved.

  The message was from Trent and had been sent to Brandon, Bailey, Brock, Brynne and Keysa. Brandon suspected Trent had already talked to his brothers about this issue. Out of the six Senior Donovan men, only their three fathers had been foolish enough to sleep with Roslyn Ausby. Albert was the worst because he claimed he couldn’t remember if he’d slept with her or not. Or at least that’s what he’d told Brandon when they’d both returned home to Houston from the wedding in Miami a few months ago. Brandon hadn’t planned on talking about the situation with his father that soon. He, Bailey and Brock had arranged a time for the three of them to discuss the situation first, but when he’d stopped by his father’s house to check on the property because he’d assumed his father was still in Miami, Brandon was shocked to see Al sitting in his study.

  He held a glass of whiskey in his hand as he sat in the old leather chair staring at the pictures on the wall. The biggest picture on the wall was a portrait of Darla Donovan on her wedding day. She was a beautiful woman with the same almond shaped hazel eyes as Bailey and straight black hair that always flanked her shoulders like a dark sheet.

  “Did she know what happened?” Brandon asked after standing in the doorway for far too long. It was beyond strange to think about his father with any other woman besides his mother.

  “I don’t know,” Albert answered eventually.

  “Come on dad, that can’t be your answer for everything. Did my mother know that you’d slept with your brother’s ex? It’s a simple question,” Brandon stated.

  Albert had turned quickly in the chair to glare at his son. “Nothing about this is simple, Brandon. Not a damned thing!”

  “Then explain it to me,” Brandon continued, not willing to back down. “Explain to me how this could happen. Tell me how three intelligent and wealthy men could allow themselves to be caught in a trap as old as time?”

  Albert finished that drink and then he threw the glass at the wall. They both watched it shatter just beneath the picture of thei
r entire family. Darla and Bailey sat on the old burgundy studded couch in their living room, while Albert stood in the center, Brandon and Brock on his sides. They looked like the perfect African American family. Educated, good looking, focused, loving, happy. It hurt to believe that it had all been a lie.

  “She drugged me. I hate to even think of something like that happening, but that’s how it was. She walked right into this room and sat across from me. I poured the drinks for crying out loud,” Al cried. “I fixed drinks for her and for me. Then I drank it and…and the next thing I know she’s naked in front of me.”

  Brandon shook his head.

  “Naked, Brandon. This woman that I knew my brother had been involved with was in this room, in my house, climbing all over me. I know what I should have done. I know what she expected me to do. But I swear to you on all that is holy, on your mother, Brandon, I don’t know what I did.”

  Al put his head down then, shaking it from side to side as he continued to say, “I don’t know what I did.”

  “What happened after she was standing naked in front of you?” he’d asked, hating like hell that he was having this conversation with his father.

  After a few seconds of silence, Al lifted his head, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I remember waking up in my bed, naked. Your mother, my sweet Darla, she found me just like that.”

  Brandon cursed and turned away. He’d wanted to hit his father at that moment. Yes, that had been his immediate reaction to finding out that his mother had walked in on a scene like that. He wanted to beat the daylights out of Albert Donovan for being so foolish and for no doubt hurting his mother deeply.

  “I was naked on the bed and delirious, saying all kinds of things,” Albert continued. “That’s what Darla told me. She said I was sweating like a hog so she called the paramedics and they took me to the hospital. That’s when they did the blood work and found the remnants of that drug.”

  “How did mom respond to that? Did she ask you what happened in her bedroom?” Brandon could just hear a woman’s questions to this scenario. He couldn’t imagine her simply walking away and not giving a damn.

  Albert shook his head. “She thanked the doctors for their help and took me home. We didn’t talk about it for weeks after that. Then one day she called me on the phone and asked me a simple question, ‘Did you break our vows?’.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “So, to answer this and your question from before, I told Darla everything I remembered,” Al said looking at his son. “I told her how Roslyn had come in and that I’d fixed those drinks and that I didn’t remember anything else after that. I cried and I apologized and I swore my love to only her, but I couldn’t tell her if I did or if I didn’t. Just like I can’t tell you now.”

  Brandon remembered feeling like a bomb had exploded in the center of his world that day, just like he’d felt when his mother had died. A car accident had taken Darla’s life instead of the breast cancer that she’d vowed to fight to the end. Now, Brandon was facing something just as devastating—his father may have cheated on his mother and created another child. Another Donovan.

  His temples throbbed with that realization as Brandon closed out his tablet, ignoring Trent’s email for now. He needed to think about this and he wanted to talk to Brock and Bailey one more time before he agreed to do anything. Moving forward with a meeting with this Dane guy could mean they were actually going to meet with their brother. A man none of them knew a damn thing about. Trent, as promised, had done some extensive digging into Dane’s background and so far had not come up with anything on the shady side. In fact, the guy seemed to be a talented businessman building a fortune from a hostile take-over, he’d orchestrated, of a power company. He’d been the CEO of Imagine Energy Corporation for the last eight years, in that time growing the company to its current standing of the fourth largest power company in the world. He was single and owned houses in New York, San Francisco and on a Caribbean island called Grand Serenity. Dane had never been married and had no children. He was rarely seen in public and owned a fleet of black Escalades, which partially explained why Jaydon Donovan, who used to be married to Brandon’s cousin Parker, had been seen driving away from Giovanni Morelli’s house in one, the night of Giovanni’s murder.

  After a shower that did nothing to calm his thoughts, Brandon dressed in khaki shorts and a white shirt. He opted for comfortable boat shoes today and picked up his room key, wallet and shades from the table before leaving the cabin. There were hundreds of people disembarking and he moved through them without incident, eager to see some tropical sights, hoping they would relax him.

  If he’d been able to spend the night with Amber last night Brandon was certain he’d be more relaxed this morning. He’d thought about her for hours as he sat on his balcony, staring out to the indigo darkness. She’d kissed him, twice, and each time not only had his body reacted, but something else inside him had clicked. Brandon was a thinker, so it was natural that he’d spend quite a bit of his evening contemplating what that meant exactly—besides the fact that he was extremely attracted to this woman he’d just met. He’d told her that they weren’t on any time schedule, that there were no rules where two adults and their attraction was concerned. He actually believed that.

  His parents had fallen in love the day they met each other at a political function in Houston and were married within three months. His grandparents, Isaiah and Dorethea Donovan, had fallen in love after seeing each other at a town picnic and were married within six months. Brock met Noelle as a result of Linc’s expansion of the Gramercy Casino. They’d had sex in his pool only a day after he’d picked her up from the airport. Sure, that wasn’t public knowledge, but brothers tended to share those types of things and Brock had wanted to talk before he’d finally proposed to Noelle years after they’d been living together. Conclusion—there was no timeframe for love.

  Not that Brandon was in love.

  No, he was fairly certain what he was feeling right now was just a significant bout of lust. So significant that he’d actually toyed with the idea of masturbating to the memory of her sexy body rubbing against him in that pool yesterday. Of course, he’d nixed the idea because he preferred the real thing to his imagination, no matter how vivid. Still, feeling out of sorts this morning, Brandon sure could have benefited from a sexual release last night.

  He’d been walking on the dock when he first saw her, that hat he supposed she used to keep her identity hidden, pulled down tight on her head. Still, he would have recognized her from miles away, the seductive sway of her hips damn near calling his name. He’d picked up his steps in order to get closer to her only to be pissed off beyond measure when he saw the guy bump into and then insult her. The push and retort she gave the guy in return would have made Brandon smile with pride, had the guy not immediately gotten angry and attempted to go after her.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Brandon said the moment he grabbed the guy’s arm.

  “Get the fuck off me! That big bitch pushed me!” the guy yelled as he looked back at Brandon and struggled to break free of his grip.

  “You pushed and insulted her, first,” Brandon told him. “Now, the way I see it that’s self-defense.”

  The guy took a swing at Brandon then, only to have Brandon release his arm and catch the fist that was being hurled at him before it could make contact. With a strong grip on the guy’s hand, Brandon pushed back as far as he could without the guy’s wrist breaking. In about three seconds came a sickening squeal from the guy as he fell to his knees in front of Brandon.

  “And you just tried to assault me,” he told him. “You’ve got two choices here. Get up off the ground and walk your fool ass away. Or, keep being an asshole—as the lady so eloquently put it—and end up with my fist planted in your face. Take your pick.”

  It only took a few seconds and a bit more pressure applied to his wrist, for the guy to beg, “Ok. Ok! Get off me, man!”

  Brandon released
him and watched as he ran off to the cheers and laughter of the others on deck. He looked up to see Amber with her arms once again folded over her chest.

  “I didn’t need to be rescued,” she told him.

  “Good,” Brandon said as he took the couple steps to close the distance between them. “Because I’m not on a rescue mission.”

  He held out a hand to her then and waited for her to take it.

  “Just what do you think you are doing, Mr. Donovan?” she asked without moving a muscle.

  “I think I’m asking a lovely and feisty lady, who is capable of taking good care of herself, to join me for a day of sightseeing. What do think you’re doing, Ms. McNair?”

  She shook her head then and smiled. “I have absolutely no idea,” she replied before putting her hand in his. “No idea at all.”

  Chapter 5

  They’d explored Front Street and all the local vendors there. Amber purchased a bag because she loved bags and purses. This one had terrific colors and made her feel cheerful. She also found a lovely purse for Fiona. Now, there were two necklaces that she loved but couldn’t decide on which one she would purchase for Delta.

  “You take this one and I’ll take that one,” Brandon said, effectively ending the debate.

  “Just like that, huh?” she asked and noticed he’d already pulled out his wallet.

  “Yeah, just like that,” was his quick reply as he handed the vendor his money.

  “Wait a minute,” she said when the vendor bagged up both items separately and handed hers to her. “I didn’t pay for that.”

  “I know,” Brandon said and was off to another stall before she could say another word.