Donovans 02 - Jade Island

sex in mind, she knew she didn’t want to be alone with him. Period.
    “Which island is Seng on?” Kyle asked.
    “It used to be called Barren Island,” Lianne said. “Now it’s called Farmer.”
    Kyle knew the place. It was close to Jade Island, where he sometimes camped and once had almost died. “Guest of Farmer’s Institute of Asian Communications?”
    “Yes. How did you know?”
    “Not hard. Seng is one of the best-connected capitalists in mainland China. Farmer is a multibillionaire who isslavering to get a foothold in a market that holds one-quarter of the world’s population.”
    “How about Donovan International?” Lianne asked. “Is it ‘slavering’ for a piece of the Chinese market?”
    “Interested, not slavering. We don’t handle electronics resale the way Farmer does. Why don’t I come with you?”
    She blinked. “You want to see Seng’s jade rejects?”
    “Dying to,” he said laconically. “We can tie up at the institute’s dock, you can do your thing with jade while I watch, listen, and learn, and then we can come back.”
    “Minus a ferry?”
    “I have a boat.”
    “Oh.” Lianne thought about it, then smiled with a combination of relief and malice. The relief came from being able to placate Harry at a time when she was afraid she would need all the Tang goodwill she could muster. The malice came from the thought of Seng’s disappointment when she appraised his jade and walked off into the night on Kyle Donovan’s arm. “This is above and beyond the call of duty, even for a stuffed-elephant escort service.”
    “Any excuse to get aboard the Tomorrow. ”
    “Is that your boat’s name, Tomorrow? ”
    “I called her that because I was always going to have more time to go fishing—”
    “Tomorrow,” Lianne interrupted, smiling.
    “Yeah. Then a few months ago, I realized that tomorrow would never come unless I made plans for it today.”
    “You’re sure it isn’t too much trouble to take your boat?”
    “To Farmer Island? Hell, no. I’ll have to check the tides, but if we leave early enough, we might be able to catch some fish for dinner along the way.”
    The light in Kyle’s eyes and the sudden eagerness in his expression made him look years younger than thirty-one.
    “You catch it, I’ll cook it,” Lianne said.
    “How about cleaning it?”
    “How about eating out?”
    He snickered. “Go put on your lipstick. We’ll argue on the way to the condo.”
    As soon as Lianne closed the door of the inner office behind her, Kyle turned to Fred.
    “Confirm that Lianne will be at Farmer Island tomorrow at six,” Kyle said. “Don’t say anything about me, my boat, or not staying the night.”
    Fred started to ask why, decided it was none of his business, and picked up the phone.
     
    “Wait,” Lianne said as Kyle reached for the door to the Donovan condo. “I’m a mess.”
    “Quit fussing,” he said as she smoothed her teal skirt and tugged at her jacket bottom in a futile attempt to get rid of wrinkles. “You’re gorgeous.”
    “Oh, right,” she muttered. “You’d never guess I spent twelve hours in these clothes, seven of them sitting in a car.”
    Ignoring her complaints, Kyle started to push the door open. “Susa will probably be wearing paint-crusted jeans and one of Archer’s old sweatshirts.”
    “Susa isn’t here yet,” Honor said, pulling the door wide open and giving Kyle a big hug. “If you get any better-looking, I’ll have to buy you a guard dog.”
    “You’re thinking of Archer,” Kyle said, returning his sister’s hug with interest. “He’s the one who needs a guard to protect him from women.”
    Lianne looked at the tall, slender woman who had Kyle’s unusual eyes and a smile that could light up a cave. She was wearing a thick, soft, sage-green sweater that was just like the one Kyle had on, size included. Unlike him, the black pants she wore fit like another skin, showing off long, long legs beneath the baggy sweater. On Kyle, the sweater didn’t bag, but his shoulders were at least half again as wide as Honor’s.
    “Lianne Blakely, this is Honor Donov—oops. Mallory. I’m having a hard time getting used to the new name.”
    “Hi, Lianne,” Honor said. “The name isn’t that new, Kyle is just that slow.”
    “After thirty years, six months is new,” Kyle retorted. “So when are you going to make me an uncle?”
    “You want kids to spoil, you go and get them the old-fashioned way,” Honor retorted.