Donovan laughed. “Very true.”
Too late she realized she’d opened a door, and braced herself for Donovan to come back with one of his scathing remarks about “elites” and “class.” But he didn’t go there. Instead he reached for one of the pizza rolls.
“I’m sure Jack will write you a fat check, though. He seemed keen on impressing you.”
If anyone other than Donovan had said that she’d think that odd tone was jealousy. “Here’s a newsflash: Jack Morgan will pinch a nickel until the buffalo burps. He promised me a contribution, but it’s practically pocket change. If he’s trying to impress me with his largesse, he’s failed pretty miserably.”
That earned her another laugh from Donovan. Then he casually tossed out a figure that nearly had her choking on her carrot. The St. James family—or maybe just Donovan—certainly put the riche in nouveau riche. When she could breathe again, she tried to sound just as casual. “Let’s say I’m starting to feel impressed.”
Donovan’s white smile flashed in the moonlight. “Good.”
“Now I’ve got to come up with another speech for tomorrow night. A similar yet different way to get a different set of people to open their checkbooks.”
“Which group?”
“I’d have to check. The homeless shelter, maybe? It’s at the convention center.”
He shook his head. “That would be the Arts Association awards dinner. Not a fund-raiser for the homeless shelter.”
Damn it. How did Vivi keep up with all of this? “Are you sure?”
“Quite. I’m supposed to be there.”
Then when was the homeless-shelter event? She tried to picture Vivi’s schedule … Wait. Another event where they’d both be there? That added a whole new dimension of conflict. It would be much easier to come to terms with her attraction to Donovan and the ramifications of that if she didn’t have to face him.
“I guess I might see you there, then.” And sometime between now and then I’ll figure out how I’m going to handle that.
Donovan nodded before tossing a pizza roll into the air and catching it in his mouth. He looked at her expectantly.
It was the escape route she needed from confusing thoughts back into the fun surrealism of the evening. She applauded politely. “Nice trick. Now I am really impressed. You should have done that before you pledged money.”
He picked up another. “Open your mouth,” he said as he took aim.
“No way.”
“Come on,” he coaxed. “I’m trying to impress you, remember?”
Something about this seemed almost charming—which meant she either needed to get her head examined or else afterglow was even better than beer goggles. If anyone had tried to tell her that snide, pontificating pundit Donovan St. James would casually pledge an amount equal to an endowed chair at a university just seconds before trying to convince a woman to let him throw food at her, she’d have laughed in their face. But she hadn’t seen the snide, pontificating pundit tonight. She didn’t even really recognize the man in front of her as the Donovan she’d hated since high school.
No. Not hated. Just ignored and dismissed.
“Come on, Lorelei. Open up.”
She shook her head. “If you miss I’ll end up with sauce all over me.”
“I never miss. Although I just might have to this time.”
“Because …?”
He gave her a look that clearly said he’d be happy to lick her clean. It sent a naughty tingle all the way down to her toes. Oh, why not? Her proper upbringing frowned upon playing with one’s food—much less tossing it at another human being—but hadn’t she decided that tonight was outside the bounds anyway? Feeling foolish, she opened her mouth.
“Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll flinch from it if you see it coming.”
“Fine.” She sighed and closed her eyes, then opened her mouth again.
“Tuck your chin in a little … Tilt your head a little to the left …”
She followed along like a puppet.
“Not that much … Okay, good.”
It was amazingly quiet—quiet enough for her to hear the bubbles of the water in the pool. When nothing happened she started to get a little nervous. She kept her eyes closed, though, not wanting to end up with a pizza roll in them, but it was getting just a little awkward now.
A second later Donovan’s mouth closed over hers. He caught her gasp of surprise, then his tongue swept in to tease hers.
“Sorry. Couldn’t resist,” he mumbled as he moved to her neck.
There was a small splash, and then Donovan was pulling her into the pool. The night was warm and muggy, and the water felt delicious lapping against her stomach. Somehow in those moments when she’d been waiting awkwardly, Donovan had lost his jeans, and she no longer minded being left to wait like that. The borrowed jersey floated up to her waist, allowing her bare skin contact with Donovan below the water’s surface.