Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [36]
For a moment she was tempted to lie, to see if she could break the tight control on Donovan's face, but then she discarded the impulse. She wanted no tension to destroy the harmony of the moment. She shook her head. “Nope,” she said matter-of-factly, making a face. “The only interest your charming friend has in me is purely analytical. He wants to see how hard he can push me before I collapse.”
Donovan's grip relaxed fractionally. “And I'll lay odds he'll probably be there with open arms to catch you when you do,” he said dryly.
Brenna giggled helplessly, as she suddenly had a mental picture of a villainous Dominic, complete with moustache and flowing cape, clutching her in a Valentino-style embrace.
A smile tugged at the corners of Donovan's lips at the contagious quality of her mirth.
“I'm glad you find the idea so amusing,” he said lightly. “I assure you that is not the usual feminine reaction to Jake.”
She tossed her head, tilting her nose saucily. “I've come to the conclusion that you both take yourselves far too seriously,” she said sweetly, as they started up the twisted dirt path that led to the top of the hill. “It's about time someone took you down a peg.”
Donovan cocked an eyebrow. “You're feeling brave today, aren't you, sweetheart?” he murmured softly. “That wouldn't be in the nature of a dare, would it?”
She backed down hurriedly, at the dangerous glint in his blue eyes. “You and Jake have been friends for a long time, haven't you?” she asked quickly, hoping to distract him.
There was a short silence before Donovan accused softly, “Chicken! I'll let you escape this time, but don't issue challenges unless you're prepared to follow through, Brenna.” He watched with amusement as color flooded her cheeks, before he took pity on her. “In answer to your question, Jake and I have been friends since college. We both attended UCLA.” He grimaced wryly. “Not that we moved in the same circles. I was a slum kid working my way through by doing construction work on the side, and Jake was heir to Dominic's Shipping—the original golden boy.” The look in Donovan's eyes was far away as he murmured, “We were a mismatched pair. God knows why we didn't hate each other. I was a defensive young tough with a king-sized chip on my shoulder, and Jake was a hell-raising bastard who didn't give a damn about anyone. We were at each other's throats constantly, until we found we had one thing in common that made all our differences minute in comparison. We both felt that film-making was the ultimate art form, and we were both determined to make the best damn pictures in the history of the business.”
“You had one other thing in common,” Brenna said teasingly. “What about your overwhelming modesty?”
Donovan grinned in acknowledgment of the gentle thrust. “Neither of us was ever bothered with an excess of that virtue,” he admitted simply. “We always knew what we could do.”
Yes, there would never be any doubt in Donovan's mind about his own abilities, she thought, as she stared with new eyes at the powerful body and bold features of the man. Before this she had looked upon him as some sort of super being, sprung fully grown, with the faculty to mold and disrupt her life.
He had unbuttoned his cotton shirt to the waist as they had started their climb, and her eyes were drawn in fascination to the strong shoulders and chest muscles with the dark red patch of wiry hair that narrowed to a fine line as it approached the waist-band of his slacks. Those muscles had been formed by hard physical labor on innumerable construction sites, as a young boy struggled desperately to overcome his background and get a decent education. If he was arrogant and cynical, wasn't it a natural by-product of the struggle to survive and reach the dizzy heights which he was innately conscious were his destiny?
“Do you have a family?” she asked, suddenly wanting to know more of the past that had created Michael Donovan.