Chapter Four
Donovan was a big enough man to realize when he had made a mistake, and there was something to be said for making a mistake of this magnitude.
That night, in the house he had rented in Loch Naine, he couldn’t get his mind off of Carly Martin. He called his man in London, and after a brief and rather unpleasant reprimand, the man got Donovan the information he should have gotten him in the first place.
Rose Martin had died some years ago with her husband in a car crash. Surviving was one daughter, a young girl born in America who had never set foot in Ireland. That girl was Carleen Martin, who became the heir to old woman Martin’s estate. Donovan swirled his whiskey in its glass, studying the amber liquid by the light of the lamp. The color reminded him of Carly’s eyes, but he thought with a bit of wry admiration that her eyes were far more vibrant, far more lovely
So the brave Carly was the heir to the Martin cottage. It was the last piece he needed before he could start with his plan to develop Loch Naine into the regional powerhouse he knew it could be. She was not the middle-aged woman he thought he would be dealing with. Instead, she was a vibrant young thing with eyes that flashed and a willingness to fight that he very seldom encountered.
Just thinking about her made something in his blood warm. She was curvy with a passion to her that would make any man long for her, but Donovan thought it was more than that. His taste ran to leggy blonds for the most part. Before he laid eyes on her in that alley, he was just wondering if it would be a good idea to return to London for a few days, to find one of the women he liked to pass time with when he was of a mood.
Then he saw Carly and decided that blonds were out and that copper-eyed girls with long dark hair were in.
Donovan had to shake his head at his own thoughts. He was thirty-four. He might have as many as ten years on her, and now he was acting like a besotted teen.
Get your head in the game, he told himself. You’re here for a job, and when it’s done, you can go to London and see what Penny or Lorelei have been up to. Or perhaps even Penny and Lorelei.
For some reason, however, the thought didn’t appeal to him, and when he lie in bed that night, he could only think of his hands tracing Carly’s lush curves and then his mouth following.
Once I get the Martin property situation under control, then we can find out what’s between me and Miss Martin.
As he drifted off to sleep, however, he realized that waiting for her might be a kind of special hell.
***
Mr. MacGowan had kept the accounts paid off, and Carly was amused to discover that her grandmother had Internet. A quick reboot of the modem that was set up in a small out of the way shelf in the study, and she was able to start doing some research from her small laptop.
“Well, well, Donovan,” she murmured, pulling up page after page of information.
Now that she was actually looking him up, Carly felt a little foolish. As it turned out, she had heard of Donovan Reilly before. Once she realized that he was THAT Donovan Reilly, things started snapping into place.
“Well, apparently, I managed to land a good punch on an actual billionaire,” she said, leaning back in her chair. Donovan Reilly was born to a middle class family in Dublin, a father who was a teacher and a mother who stayed at home until her untimely death. He was the ultimate self-made man, rising from nothing to become one of the richest men in the world. He had wheeled and dealed in some of the most competitive milieus ever since he had started in real estate, and the result was a house in London, another in Dublin, and a scattering of gorgeous residences across the world. She was amused by the car collection, slightly appalled by the jet, and unsure how she felt about his women.
Of course that was a prime topic of discussion among the gossip rags. Donovan Reilly was one of the world’s most sought-after bachelors, and when she read what he had to say about relationships and women in general, she couldn’t help flinching:
In general, I like someone in my bed to be gorgeous, willing and of course quiet, he quipped to one magazine.
Marriage? Can’t say I’ve given it all that much thought. After all, mergers might be my specialty, but I am not interested in merging with someone who’s a step down…
God, I love women, but you know, sometimes I don’t know if I like ‘em all that much.
All of it was offered with a trademark devil-may-care grin and even a wink, and Carly could feel something inside her start to boil. How dare he? How dare he come on like a white knight, only to leave her feeling like yesterday’s garbage?
It wasn’t outright stated in any of the rags that she read, but she could read it plain as day. Donovan was not a man who thought much of women, and Carly was smart enough to know that even if he rescued her, even if he kissed her and made her feel as if she was melting into glory, that it didn’t mean anything.
And on top of it, he wants my house.
She absently corrected herself that he wanted her grandmother’s house, but it didn’t feel that way. In a surprisingly short amount of time, she found herself feeling oddly possessive of the property. Her mother grew up here, her grandmother died here, and now she owned it. It belonged to her in a way that very little ever had, and whenever she touched a wall or a counter top, she felt as if it were murmuring to her, thanking her for taking her place where she should be.
She knew it was foolish, but Carly thought that it would be harmless enough to indulge it for a little while. She could laugh at her affection for the house, but when she thought about what Donovan wanted to do to it, she could feel her blood start to boil.
She had seen the prospective plans, as well. A person who had done less research for her various bosses might not have been able to find them at all, but in short order, Carly found the people that Donovan was dealing with and she couldn’t help but wince.
It was all awful.
Part of what she was growing to love about Loch Naine was the fact that it was so unique. Around every corner was a new experience, something strange or lovely or quaint, and all of it very specific to the town itself. Loch Naine was its own place, and she was not sure that there was a place like it in all the world.
The resort that Donovan and his partners wanted to put there was modern and bulky, flashy in all the wrong ways. Of course, none of the people who lived in the town now would be able to use it, and she could already see where they would be pushed out of their homes. Perhaps the deals would be good at first, but she could see a time perhaps just five years down the road where they would be forced to leave home for points unknown, unable to compete with the rising prices and the high cost of simply living where they always had.
It was enough to make Carly gnash her teeth with anger, and when she looked around at her grandmother’s cottage, she felt a certain kind of prideful stubbornness leak into her soul.
“I’m here now, and I do not want to be moved,” she said out loud.
Outside, the evening wind blowing in off the lake groaned as if in agreement, and she felt more at home than she ever had in her life.
***
Carly did not see Donovan for the next few days, but she was unsurprised when he appeared on a bright Saturday. The street was crowded for Loch Naine, and at the moment, Carly couldn’t do anything about meeting the big man because her arms were full of books.
Donovan glanced at them curiously.
“Doing some summer reading?” he asked, and she narrowed her eyes at how innocent the question sounded.
“I got a library card. I’m not a citizen, but the lady was able to take a piece of mail instead, so I can now borrow books as I please.”
“A great and terrible privilege,” he said with a straight face. “Carly, may I speak with you?”
“You may not,” she said crisply. She tried to step around him, but he stepped in front of her again. They were closer to each other now, however, and she looked up into his bright gray eyes. She was startled to see that there was a dark bruise under one eye—small, but certainly visible.
He could see her register it, and nodded a little.
“I got that in a very strange altercation with a little ruffian the other day,” he commented, and Carly’s eyes narrowed.
“Do tell.”
“Well, it was unpleasant,” he continued guilelessly. “I was only trying to prevent her from falling off a cliff, and she punched me trying to get away.”
“Well, maybe she had a rough day before and didn’t want a strange man grabbing on her,” Carly said tartly. “Perhaps that might explain some of it.”
Donovan looked momentarily abashed, but he shrugged.
“Well, I certainly do not know that because I was never told. However, I think that I have found her, or at least I know what she looks like. I do know that the local police do not look kindly on people who commit assault on good citizens.”
“If you’re a good citizen then I’m a nanny goat,” Carly spat. “Come on, out with it. What do you want?” A slight flicker of humor crossed his face. In that moment, it made him so handsome that she could barely stand it, and then she returned to her sense.
“What I want from you could fill a book,” he said, and the heat of his gaze told her exactly what kind of book that might be. “But for right now, what do you say to lunch? It’s my turn to treat, I believe.”
For a moment, Carly wavered. There was a part of her that simply wanted to say no, to let the chips fall wherever they might go and to take her chances. However, there was another, larger part of her that wanted to know what Donovan was getting at. They said that curiosity killed the cat, but right now, she reasoned, she needed information more than she needed to be utterly safe.
At least, that’s what she told herself as she nodded. “All right, but just coffee,” she said. “I’ve got things to do today.”
He frowned at her slightly as she started to walk next to him. “Found a boyfriend already? My feelings are hurt.”
“What? No, I didn’t find a boyfriend.” She stopped, staring at the grin that crossed his face. He really was the devil.
In a moment, he had come even closer. He was so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek and see the slight flecks of green in his gray eyes.
“Good,” he said, his voice soft and husky. “I wouldn’t like to think that you kiss everyone else as easily as you kissed me.”
She started to protest, but then he cupped her face with his hand, a gesture that was soft, loving.
He’s going to kiss me again, she thought, and her eyes fluttered closed.
When no kiss followed, she jerked back, looking at him with a burning rage in her eyes. “What the hell, do you like torturing me or something?”
Donovan laughed, but there was a heat in his eyes that she was not sure that he could hide.“Believe me when I say that there are many things I would rather be doing with you than torturing you,” he said. “Now, coffee?”