French doors led from that room to a courtyard behind the house. She opened the door and stepped outside onto the patio, where the bricks still radiated warmth captured from the summer sun. Lights flipped on at her movement and she caught her breath.
High walls and lush plants provided privacy and created a feeling of seclusion in the middle of one of the busiest neighborhoods on earth. Iron benches provided seating to her right, and to her left was what looked like a large round pond. On closer inspection it proved to be a whirlpool. Dipping in a toe, she noticed it was cool water, not hot, just perfect for warm, muggy summer nights. Lorelei sat, letting her feet dangle into the pool as she listened to the night sounds.
The house, the garden—both were beautiful. But not at all the kind of place she’d thought Donovan would live. He seemed more like a high-rise condo or urban loft type of person: all brushed nickel and glass and—
She stopped the thought. Why had she assumed that? And when had she come to that conclusion, for that matter? She barely knew him—at least not in a way that would have given her insights into his natural habitat.
It was shocking and a little disconcerting how little she actually knew about him—beyond his award-worthy skills in that decadent bed upstairs. What did that say about her?
“There you are. Aren’t you hot out here?”
Donovan was coming out of the house, juggling a tray with the bottle of wine tucked under his arm and the other wineglass held upside down by the stem.
“I like being outside on summer nights—even if it is muggy. There’s just something real and grounding about a warm night …” She trailed off at his amusement. “I just like it. But if you don’t, we can go back inside.”
“No. It’s why I have a garden.” He put down the tray and sat cross-legged next to her on the apron of the pool. “As promised—food.”
Lorelei eyeballed the tray and stifled a laugh. Baby carrots and dip, a bag of potato chips, and a heaping plate of pizza rolls. She didn’t know what she’d expected him to produce, but it hadn’t been this. “You eat like a college student.”
“No, I cook like a college student. That’s why I normally eat out.”
“I haven’t had pizza rolls in years. They’re so bad for you.”
“So many of the best things in life are.”
She wondered if she should include Donovan in that list. Or if he was including her in his.
Shaking the thought away, she reached for one. They were hot, fresh from the microwave, with cheese and sauce oozing out of the seams. She popped it into her mouth and closed her eyes as she chewed. Over-processed, fat-laden, high-sodium bliss exploded over her tongue. She groaned quietly as she savored it. When she opened her eyes, Donovan was staring at her, his glass halfway to his mouth.
He cleared his throat and shifted slightly. “Damn, they must be good. That’s the face you make when—”
She frowned at him and he stopped. Nodding thanks at his belated discretion, she sipped at her wine. Chasing a pizza roll with a glass of excellent wine—and very expensive, based on the label—was almost surreal. But it fit with the situation somehow.
Tonight, as a whole, seemed outside the bounds of reality. The fund-raiser seemed like ancient history. Even taking the stage on Vivi and Connor’s behalf no longer seemed like a monumental achievement etched in time. Time, for all intents and purposes, had stopped. It was very late—or possibly very early; she had no idea—she’d had a long, stressful day and a longer evening of downright gymnastic sex that would test anyone’s stamina. She should be exhausted.
But she wasn’t. And she was having a good time. It didn’t bear close scrutiny, but she was, nonetheless.
They ate in silence for a while, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one.
“I meant to tell you that you did a good job tonight. At the fund-raiser,” he clarified.
The compliment wasn’t the most effusive ever, but coming from Donovan it seemed like very high praise. “Thanks.”
“You’re a natural when it comes to working a crowd.”
Wow. Really high praise.
“How much money did you get commitments for?”
“Some,” she hedged, “but not as much as I’d like. How much can I put you down for?”
Donovan laughed. “See—a natural.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a regal nod. “But I’d still like a firm commitment on a dollar amount. I’m constantly amazed at how cheap rich people can be. The population of that room tonight probably has over half the wealth of the entire city, but you’d think I was taking food straight out of their children’s mouths.”