Tempting Donovan Ford (22 page)

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Authors: Jennifer McKenzie

Tags: #romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Women, #Fiction

BOOK: Tempting Donovan Ford
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She took a breath as she walked up the short flight of stone steps that led to the front door. Everything would be fine. Donovan would be happy to see her and there would be plenty of other nonmansion owners in attendance. Donovan had told her the party was for all their friends, the majority of whom were in the restaurant business, and their staff.

Still, she wished tonight hadn’t gone so off the rails and that she’d been able to arrive with Donovan as planned. But some of her anxiety eased when Evelyn opened the front doors herself.

“Julia.” Her hug was warm, as it always was. “I’m so glad you made it.” Evelyn showed Julia around the house already filled with laughing people, most with wineglasses in one hand and appetizer plates in the other. And beyond the glossy heels and expensive jewelry, Julia saw the touches that made the large house a home.

The throw pillows in bright colors, the family photos taken at the beach with wind whipping through their hair and everyone moving instead of sitting in a stilted formal pose. The furniture, while tasteful and clearly of good quality, also looked sturdy, as if it could hold up to a spill or people putting their feet on it. Much like a good restaurant or bar, the space had been designed to move people easily through the space and would be quick to clean up with a mop and some elbow grease.

She accepted a glass of wine but passed on the food, claiming that she’d eaten at the restaurant. The truth was, she still felt a little too keyed up to eat. She sipped the wine, taking everything in. The beautiful room, the more beautiful food and the incredibly beautiful people.

It was crowded, making it difficult to find anyone, but she recognized some faces. Chefs who’d been featured in international foodie magazines and on TV. A few local actors who seemed to turn up in every other movie as Businesswoman #2 or Architect #3. People who’d been at her event in Whistler and La Petite Bouchée. They greeted her with smiles and polite how-are-yous, and the jagged edge of her nerves began to wear off. She was building a reputation. In fact, maybe she’d already built one. Exactly how long did it take for a reputation to take hold, anyway?

She was almost starting to feel at home, comfortable and okay that aside from Evelyn she hadn’t seen any of the other Fords. She took a sip of wine. Maybe she’d try one of the delectable-looking canapés. The shrimp on toast smelled divine. She caught a whiff of the tarragon as it passed. Or a scallop wrapped in bacon because everything was better with bacon.

But she didn’t get the chance. Or she did. She just didn’t think she’d be able to stomach it.

Because standing across the room, looking hot as hell and twice as sexy, was Donovan. With the blonde woman he’d been squiring around in January practically inserting herself into his front pocket.

What. The. Hell.

Julia felt the hot burn of anger flare. She wasn’t upset that he was standing with the other woman. It was a party—people mingled and she certainly didn’t expect him to cause a scene and storm away. But then again, she didn’t expect him to smile at the woman while she pressed her skinny body against his. Julia’s fingers tightened around the stem of her glass.

“You could always go slap some sense into him.” Owen’s voice startled her and she whirled around to find him at her elbow. “I, for one, would pay to see that.”

Julia forced a casual shrug and turned away. She didn’t need to watch that. To view her humiliation in living color. “I’m fine.”

“That death grip you have on your glass would say otherwise.”

She glanced down to find her fingers still wrapped tightly around the stem of the glass. She loosened her grip. “I’m fine.”

And maybe if she kept repeating it like some sort of mantra, it might become true. It was better than thinking about tossing the contents of her glass in his face. Besides, he was only standing with the woman.

“Right.” Owen’s tone told her she wasn’t fooling him. “So then it wouldn’t bother you to know that the woman he’s talking to, the one who can’t keep her hands off him, is an ex?”

“Not at all.” But she felt the unforgiving nature of the glass as her fingers curled around it again.

Owen patted her on the shoulder. “He doesn’t want her.”

“I know.” Julia did know. Donovan was the one who’d insisted she come to the party as his date. He’d even offered to pick her up when she’d called to let him know she was going to be late. And yet—she darted a glance over her shoulder to see that the blonde had now placed a second hand on Donovan’s arm—he didn’t have to look as if he was enjoying himself quite so much.

“You sure you don’t want to slap him? It would do something to liven up this party.”

“I’m sure.” She looked away from Donovan, thinking maybe if she didn’t watch, it wouldn’t bother her. “And there’s nothing wrong with this party.”

“Nothing a little slap wouldn’t solve.”

“Then you slap him.”

“I would.” Owen grinned at her. “But my mother would kill me.”

“And she wouldn’t kill me?” Evelyn wasn’t tall, but height didn’t equal power.

“Consider it taking one for the team.”

Julia laughed and some of her aggravation floated away. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“Pass on what?” Mal joined them, looking tall and sleek. But Julia thought Mal’s dress hung a shade too loosely, as if it had been purchased about fifteen pounds ago.

“Your brother is causing trouble.”

Mal smiled. “What else is new?”

“Excuse me.” Owen pasted on a hurt expression. “Shouldn’t you be asking which brother instead of assuming it’s me?”

“Fine.” Mal made a show of turning to Julia and widening her eyes as she placed a hand on Owen’s arm. “You couldn’t possibly be referring to this bastion of appropriate and polite behavior, could you?”

“I can be appropriate,” Owen defended himself.

“When?”

“When I feel like it.”

“Which is...”

“Never.” The corners of his eyes crinkled.

Julia laughed and her eyes caught Donovan’s across the room. Her heart thumped, and for a moment, it was only them. Then she saw that the blonde’s hand was still on his arm and her other hand had snaked its way onto his shoulder.

She raised an eyebrow at him, and then slowly and without any attempt at subtlety, she turned away.

* * *

D
ONOVAN FELT HIS
pleasure at seeing Julia turn to confusion. What was that about? And as he watched, she turned back, but she didn’t return his smile. Instead, she tossed her hair and showed him her back. Oh, hell. Had she heard about their plans for La Petite Bouchée? Did she know they weren’t going to sell? Damn it. He had an appointment with the lawyer tomorrow to discuss her new contract, but nothing had been finalized.

“Donovan?” He glanced at Tatiana, a furrow on her usually smooth brow. “Is everything okay?”

He noticed that she now had both hands on him. One on his arm and the other dangerously close to his front pants pocket. Awkward. “Will you excuse me, Tatiana?”

Her fingers curled around his arm when he moved to leave. “Only if you promise to come back.”

“Of course.” He had no intention of doing so, but he said it with a smile so she might not realize that. His mother hadn’t raised a fool.

He’d underestimated Tatiana’s understanding, though. She held her grip. “I’m not letting you slip away this easily. I’d really like to talk.”

“Maybe later.” Donovan could see Julia had glanced back, was eyeing him again with her lips pressed into a tight seam.

“Donovan?”

He didn’t take his eyes off Julia. Tatiana was a stunning woman. Smart, charming, gorgeous. But all he cared about was that she wasn’t Julia. “If you’ll excuse me,” he repeated, already shifting away, moving toward Julia, who slipped between his siblings and disappeared into the crowd.

But he didn’t find her when he arrived at Owen’s side. No, the only thing he found there was Owen’s annoying know-it-all smirk. Donovan swallowed his aggravation. He and Owen had been getting along better these past couple of weeks. They still weren’t best friends, but they were coming to find a mutual acceptance. “Where’s Julia?”

But he needn’t have bothered asking. Like a moth to a flame, his eyes found Julia exiting the main room. He didn’t say anything else to his brother, simply headed off in pursuit. If she’d heard about the restaurant, he needed to explain.

By the time he maneuvered through the crowd, he wasn’t sure where she’d gone. She wasn’t in any of the downstairs rooms, including the washrooms, which he knew because he waited until the occupants came out to make sure. Which meant she could only have gone upstairs. Unless she’d left. But Donovan didn’t want to consider that yet.

He’d just reached the top landing when the door to the bathroom he and Owen had shared as kids flew open, revealing her. His relief that she was still there was almost as overwhelming as his need to touch her.

Her face turned stony when she saw him. “Yes?”

Donovan didn’t answer, just took her hand and held it. She wasn’t getting away. Not until they talked. He stroked the soft skin on her wrists. “You ran away from me.”

She scowled and tugged her hand free. His heart sank. She’d heard about the restaurant. Damn it. Who had opened their big mouth? Owen? He’d been whispering to her earlier. See? It was instances like these that made it clear his brother wasn’t ready for a larger role in the company. Donovan brushed off the fact that he’d known about the change of plans for La Petite Bouchée for a while and should have long since shared that information with Julia.

But he wasn’t going to let her run off. Not like this. “Let me explain.”

“What’s to explain? I saw you with your ex. Letting her paw at you in front of everyone.” His ex? Pawing? But at his puzzled look, she only scowled more deeply. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? My God, Donovan. She was practically wearing you.”

Had she not heard about the restaurant? A flicker of hope leaped to life. “You’re upset because of Tatiana?” He didn’t exhale until she nodded sharply.

“I didn’t like it.”

“Neither did I.”

She sniffed. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself. Not that I care.” The effort she put into acting as if she didn’t mind only underlined just how much she did mind. “In fact, you can do whatever you want with whoever you want.” She moved to go around him.

“Julia.” He reached out, drew a hand along her bare arm and saw her shiver. “The only person I want is you.” He heard the catch of her breath and waited for her to turn to face him. When she did, he took a step toward her so their bodies were in full contact.

“I don’t believe you.”

He could feel how tightly she was holding herself. “It’s true.”

“Then why were you letting that woman paw you?”

He paused for a long beat. Muted party sounds swirled up the stairs, but for all intents and purposes, they were alone. “
Pawing
is such an ugly term.”

“Then maybe you should have stopped her,” Julia sniped.

She was right. He should have. He’d been trying to keep an eye out for her, though clearly he’d missed her entrance and had been paying only half attention while Tatiana jabbered at him about whatever was going on in her life and apparently pawing him. “I’m sorry.”

He felt some of the stiffness leave her. “It’s a start.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Not let strange women paw you.” She was leaning into him now.

“Done.” He brushed a hand along her neck, feeling the fluttery, feathery ends of her hair slide through his fingers. “Although, I’m not sure it was pawing.”

That snapped Julia back to attention. “Oh, yes, she was.”

“I don’t recall.” He moved his hand up her neck, pulled her forward so their foreheads were touching. “Maybe you’d better show me. So I can keep an eye out for it in future.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You think there’s going to be a future pawing?”

Donovan nudged her backward, piloted her through the still-open door of the bathroom, so they wouldn’t be interrupted. “I’m certainly hoping.” And shut the door with a firm click.

Julia watched him, her eyes big, a light flush creeping up her chest.

Donovan toyed with the neckline of her dress, wanting to see all the glories it covered. “You’re looking a little overheated.”

“Really? Because I wasn’t the one getting pawed.”

“Then allow me to remedy that.”

“Donovan.” His name was a gasp on her lips as he lifted her onto the cool white counter and slid his hand up her thighs.

He loved the way she said his name. Wanted to hear her say it again. His fingers crept higher, closer to the heat between her legs.

“Donovan. We are not having sex in the bathroom at your parents’ house.” But he noticed she didn’t try to squeeze her legs together or push him away.

“What if we call it pawing?” He ran a finger along the edge of her underwear, stroking the silky material and her skin beneath it. “I’m only trying to get a sense of what is and isn’t allowed.”

He saw her shiver. The flush rose to her cheeks.

“What about this?” He played with the elastic edging of her underwear. “Is this pawing?”

“It might be.” Her voice still held that breathless tone. “Maybe you should demonstrate further.”

Donovan was happy to oblige.

* * *

B
Y THE TIME
Julia and Donovan made it back downstairs and the crowd began to dwindle, it was late. Restaurant workers were used to long hours, so Julia didn’t feel sleepy, but she was looking forward to taking off her heels and changing into a pair of comfy pants.

“You can’t leave yet,” Evelyn said when Julia and Donovan attempted to say their goodbyes. “The family has some news.”

Julia instinctively stiffened and glanced at Donovan. He was family. She was not. “I’ll wait for you—”

“Nonsense.” Evelyn linked her arm through Julia’s and proceeded to walk her away from the door. “This affects you, too.”

Julia turned a raised eyebrow at Donovan, but he shrugged as he caught up with them. He slid a warm arm around her waist. “I would have told you if I’d known.”

Evelyn opened a set of double doors and led them into a large and comfortable sitting room.

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