Donovans 03 - Pearl Cove

sleep. The paintings were still there, still powerful.
    “Who?” she asked simply.
    “My mother. This way,” Archer said, keeping his voice soft. Though the rooms were well insulated to muffle noise, he had no desire to wake up the family and put Hannah through a lot of introductions when she was swaying on her feet from exhaustion.
    “But—”
    “The paintings will still be there tomorrow. You need sleep.”
    She couldn’t argue, though she wanted to. She looked back over her shoulder as long as she could see the paintings. Then she sighed and wished she had half the gift his mother had.
    Archer led Hannah down a hallway lined with ancient and modern black-and-white photographs of some of the wildest places on earth. The carpet was luxurious, vividly colorful, with random patterns that evoked the feeling of earth’s continents seen from space. Several doors opened off the short hallway before it ended in a circle. Six doors opened off the circle.
    “Everyone has separate suites.” He spoke in a low voice and smiled crookedly. “The Donovans all like space. It keeps the family arguments to a minimum. Most of the time.”
    She saw his smile and knew that the arguments, however lively they might get, weren’t bitter. “Do you all live here?” she whispered.
    “Jake and Honor live up north, near Anacortes. So does Kyle. Lawe and Justin use this as their home base, but they aren’t here more than a few weeks a year. Faith had a condo in San Francisco, but she moved here after Honor and Jake married. Dad and Mom have homes in several places.”
    “What about you?”
    He shrugged. “I’m like Lawe and Justin.”
    “Wanderlust?” she asked curiously, looking at him with eyes that were both clear and very dark.
    “At first.”
    “And now?”
    He opened one of the doors and nudged her into the room beyond. “For me, a home has to have more than one person in it.”
    She smiled sadly. “Numbers don’t count, Archer. There has to be love.”
    He yawned. “Guess I don’t love myself enough, then.”
    She snickered. “You know what I mean.”
    “Yeah.” He slid his arms around her and gave her a slow, easy, homecoming kind of kiss. “I know what you mean.”
    Still smiling, she enjoyed the kiss. He tasted of coffee and the tin of mints that someone had left aboard the Donovan company plane. She supposed she tasted of the single brandy she had taken like medicine in order to sleep.
    It didn’t matter. Before too long, their tastes would be the same.
    “You’re asleep on your feet,” he said, gently ending the kiss. “Get in bed.”
    She looked around. The sitting area looked as though one of the couches unfolded into a bed, but it wasn’t made up. The king-size bed in the room beyond was turned down for the night.
    “Don’t laugh,” she said, ducking her head, “but what will your parents think?”
    “That we’re single adults with high standards who got very, very lucky.” He brushed a kiss over her eyebrows. “It’s all right, Hannah. Mom and Dad aren’t in the business of passing judgment. If it really bothers you, though, I’ll put you in Lawe’s or Justin’s room. I don’t think they’re coming back here soon.”
    The thought of sleeping without Archer’s muscular warmth curling around her didn’t appeal. She didn’t know how much longer she had with him. Once they found the Black Trinity, they would go their separate ways. Then she would regret each minute she hadn’t spent with him, exploring their mutual, unexpected passion.
    “I want to stay with you,” she said. “It’s just . . . old habits.”
    “Good habits. Contrary to modern urban myth, there’s no such thing as safe sex. For people like us, sex comes two ways—dangerous and more dangerous.”
    She didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”
    “There’s no condom you can wear to protect your emotions.” Very gently he kissed the frown lines between her eyes. “Go to bed, love.”
    “What about you?”
    “You showered on the plane. I didn’t.”
    “But . . . ” Her voice faded when she looked at him. He no longer held himself as though he was ready to fight or flee on an instant’s notice. He was tired. She could see it in his eyes, in the lines of his body. Despite that, he looked years younger. The wary, unwavering calculation was gone.
    “But?” he asked.
    She kissed him gently and put desire on hold. “Ask me in the morning.”
    When he understood, his body changed in