Donovans 01 - Amber Beach

planning to stuff money in my jock strap?
    Anger, embarrassment, and something hotter licked over Honor. She stepped back quickly and glanced around, trying to think of anything but Jake Mallory’s very male body.
    He called up the last route to be checked—or at least the last route he could find stored in the modified computer. The route was well off the normal run of fishing or sailing places. It led to a waterless, uninhabited cluster of small islets, reefs, and rocks whose presence was known but not marked by warning lights or beacons.
    It wasn’t the kind of place he wanted to tiptoe through in the late afternoon on a falling tide. In any case, there wasn’t enough daylight left to get to the next route, check it over, and still make it back to the cottage’s little dock before full darkness.
    Jake reset the radar to reach farther out. A tiny blip was boring in from the east. The Zodiac, no doubt. He glanced sideways at Honor. She was doing everything but putting her head in the bait bucket to avoid looking at him with her speculative, hungry eyes.
    He knew just how she felt. The more he looked at her, the better he liked what he saw. If something didn’t happen to lower the level of sexual heat in the boat real soon, he would do something really stupid.
    He could hardly wait.
    Jake hissed a disgusted word, furious with himself for not being able to get his mind off his crotch. He looked at the fish finder. Nothing was showing. He switched to the chart and gauged distances. He looked at his watch and then the sky. Still not enough time to do anything useful.
    Still plenty of time to do something really stupid.
    On the other hand, he could go fishing. Real fishing instead of just dragging lures through the water no matter what the time or tide.
    “I wonder if the kings are still running at Falcon Cliff,” he said aloud.
    “Kings?” Honor asked. “As in royalty?”
    “As in twelve to sixty-five pounds of pure dynamite waiting to bite on our freshly sharpened hooks.”
    “Kings are fish?”
    “Around here they are.”
    “Are you saying that we’re really going fishing?”
    “Right.”
    “Merde.”
    “Wrong answer,” Jake said, revving up the SeaSport, turning it about. “Enthusiasm, remember?”
    “Oh, I just can’t wait. Can we go there right now, please pretty please with sugar on it, et cetera.”
    “Your enthusiasm still needs work. But don’t worry, I’ll give you lots of chance to practice.”
    The Zodiac closed in quickly as the Tomorrow retraced part of its previous course. Jake waved as they passed. Conroy didn’t wave back. He didn’t try to board them, either. Apparently he was getting as fed up with the game as Jake was.
    Honor sighed and watched dark water whip beneath the Tomorrow ’s bow. She tried not to worry about Kyle and the cold sea, missing amber, and a murdered man.
    “Do you want to talk about it?” Jake asked.
    “What?”
    “Whatever is making you look so grim.”
    “No thanks. I’d rather talk about anything else.”
    “Okay. Do you live alone?”
    She looked over at him, startled.
    “Well, you did say you’d rather talk about—” he began.
    “—anything else,” Honor finished dryly. “Faith and I share a condo in Southern California, but one or the other of us is gone a lot of the time.”
    “What does your sister do?”
    “Turns my designs into breathtaking bits of art. While she does that, I’m usually on the road looking for new materials at gem and mineral shows across the country. When I’m home designing, she’ll take her turn rounding up raw materials.”
    “Is that where you got the amber I saw on your desk?”
    “No. Kyle sent it to us.”
    Jake’s hands tightened on the helm. He didn’t say a word.
    “All our brothers keep an eye out for interesting stuff for us to use,” Honor continued. “Even the Donovan collects for us.”
    “Are your father and brothers in business with you?”
    “With mere females?” she retorted. “Bite your tongue. Donovan International is the last of the Old Boy Clubs.”
    Though her voice was sardonic, there was no real anger in her words. She and Faith had learned to be grateful they were women. In some ways it made getting out from under Donald Donovan’s benevolent tyranny much easier. Archer had fought for his freedom with a ferocity that was still legend in the family. Lawe and Justin had double-teamed the old man and worn him down that way. Kyle was still struggling. He had the added