by A. C. Arthur
Wrapped In A Donovan
By
A.C. Arthur
AN ARTISTRY PUBLISHING BOOK
WRAPPED IN A DONOVAN, Copyright © 2015 by A.C. Arthur
First Edition: 2015
www.acarthur.net
All rights reserved. This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, locations, events and incidents (in either a contemporary and/or historical setting) are products of the author’s imagination and are being used in an imaginative manner as a part of this work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, settings or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by Croco Designs
Dear Reader,
So now you know the history between Roslyn Ausby and two of the Senior Donovans. You also know about her son, Dane, and his hatred for the Donovans. I would like to take this moment to tell you something else…this book ends with a cliffhanger.
As I stated in the previous Donovan series book, my plan for the duration of this series is to delve deeper into the heart of this family, the six brothers that set out to continue the legacy their father and grandfather began. The Senior Donovans are about to face their past and deal with the consequences that may jeopardize their future. While, the current generation of Donovans continue to find love, they’ll also discover that things and people they thought they knew, might not be who and what they believed.
Please know that I am not trying to get over on anyone, most definitely not my loyal and supportive readers. I am giving advanced notice that the upcoming Donovan books (Embraced by A Donovan, Wrapped in A Donovan, In The Arms of A Donovan, Falling For A Donovan, & Destiny of A Donovan) will be interconnected by an ongoing plot line. Am I doing this to insure you buy the next five books? No. I’m doing this because I want to show just how decisions that were thought to be made for the best of everyone involved in the past, sometimes come back to haunt them again in the future. I want to take my time in exploring the effects of these decisions on the entire family, not just one or two of the Seniors and maybe a couple of the children and I do not feel that this can be done in one book. So for those of you who do not like cliffhangers—I’ll apologize now. For others who want to find out how the Donovans really came to be who and what they are now, stay tuned it’s going to be a bumpy, but exciting ride!
As always, happy reading
AC
NOTE: This book is #12 in a series. While it may not be necessary to read each book that has come before this one, it is recommended that HEART OF A DONOVAN and EMBRACED BY A DONOVAN be read before reading this book, as there is a continuing plot in each of these stories.
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Prologue
Sunday
38 Years Ago
Las Vegas, Nevada
“Well, looks like we’re stuck at the airport for the night,” Bernard Donovan said, dropping his carry-on bag down beside the barstool he then slid onto.
Beside him, the woman with the long, curly hair signaled to the bartender for another drink. He’d been watching her from across the bar twenty minutes ago, before they’d both gotten up and went to gate number 5 with the intention of boarding their plane. He was returning to Seattle after visiting with his brothers, Henry, Everette, Al, Reggie and Bruce. Henry was getting married in six weeks and they were all going to be his groomsmen, so they’d met in Las Vegas where the wedding was taking place to get fitted for their tuxedos and to plan the massive bachelor party they were going to throw for him.
Bernard was booked on the ten thirty flight to Seattle where he had business meetings scheduled. His marketing firm was just getting off the ground and he had back-to-back meetings scheduled with an up and coming internet and coffee house chain tomorrow at noon. The ten thirty flight had been postponed to five in the morning. So it looked like he’d be staying at the hotel across the street from the airport instead of traveling all the way back to Henry’s house. The woman from earlier, the one with the curvy and attractive body, was also back in the bar.
“Looks that way,” she replied, sparing him a quick glance before going into her purse to pull out the money for her drink, he suspected.
“I’ll get this round,” he said, touching a hand to her wrist to still her movements.
When she didn’t pull quickly away, but looked over to him again, Bernard figured he had a shot. She had a pretty face, a little heavy on the make-up, but he could work with that. Besides, he wasn’t looking for anything beyond the drinks, or maybe a shared room for the night.
“Why? You don’t think I can pay for my own drinks?” she asked, the right side of her mouth tilting into a smile.
Her hair draped down, covering just part of her face, but it looked soft and her voice was sexy, like those he’d heard during the private parties some of his friends held back in Seattle. Bernard considered himself a virile man, with needs and desires that he knew his name and bank account had contributed to. His brothers thought he was a bit too free in his exploits with women, that at twenty years old and having just graduated from college, and starting his own business, he should be calming down a bit more. Bernard begged to differ. To him, his life was just getting started, the life he wanted to lead, and not the one anybody had laid out for him. Hence the reason he hadn’t gone to work at Donovan Oilwell in Houston or at the branch Henry had started up in Vegas. He did not want to be like his brothers, or his father and uncle before him. Bernard wanted to be his own man, smart, rich, happy and on his own terms.
It just so happened that women played heavily into that equation.
“I’m sure you can pay for whatever it is you want,” he told her. “But I’m also certain that I’d like to buy you a drink and maybe move over there to that booth to get to know you a little better.”
She’d tilted her head, staring at him for a few seconds. Sizing him up, Bernard thought. He’d considered poking out his chest a little more—he’d been working out but his body had always been more on the beefy side than the toned build Henry and Al possessed. None of that matter because he also had the dark chocolate complexion of his father and the wavy black hair and brown “bedroom” eyes from his mother. His clothes were expensive—jeans, a button down navy blue shirt, black jacket and suede tie-ups. After all, image was everything, as his father had always said.
“You know what?” she’d replied after a few seconds more. “I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.”
#
Two hours later Bernard was lying on his back and she was riding him hard and fast. Her hair fell over her shoulders, curls dancing over her high breasts as he reached up to tweak her dark nipples. She moved like she was on a mission, to pull every drop of release from him as fast as she could. He didn’t bother to tell her that he was known for his longevity, just figured he’d let her go as long as she could before he finally brought it home for the both of them.
They’d come over to the hotel, going into the room the airline had booked in his name after two more drinks and a plate of hot wings. As soon as the elevator doors had closed she’d been on him, pressing him back against the wall, cupping his dick in one hand, reaching up to place the other to the back of his neck before bringing his mouth down to hers. In the room, he’d barely gotten the door closed and locked before she was pushing his jacket off his shoulders. Game for whatever, Bernard began unbuttoning his shirt.
“Take that off,” he said nodding to the red dress she’d been wearing.
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She stepped out of her heels slowly, keeping her gaze on him as she reached behind to unzip her dress. When the material fell to the floor Bernard was unbuckling his belt, staring at her small waist, the curve of her hips and breasts that just about fell out of the lacy excuse for a bra she wore. After taking off his shoes he’d been about to push his pants down when he reached for his wallet, dug inside and pulled out a condom. She was there in seconds, standing in front of him as he’d sat on the side of the bed, taking the condom packet slowly from his fingers.
“Let me do this for you,” she told him.
He heard her ripping the package open as he removed his jeans and boxers, then returned to the bed, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her between his legs. She’d stepped up to him with a sexy sway of her hips, moaning when he kissed her navel. He reached up and grabbed her tits. In the next seconds she’d pushed him back on the bed, taking his mouth in a scorching hot kiss as she straddled him. Bernard grabbed the heavy globes of her ass, squeezing and moaning with delight as she slid her core down over his rigid length.
And then she rode.
And he moaned and swore and loved every second of the deep, hot thrusts. She was wet and eager and he was feeling his buzz after three vodkas on the rocks, four if he included the one he’d had before the plane had been delayed. When she’d dropped down over him, her hair tickling his face, he’d figured she’d run out of steam.
“I got you,” he’d told her, grabbing her by the waist and turning her over, lifting her legs before diving back into her waiting heat.
It was his time to ride and he’d done so until his body had trembled with his release, her thighs shaking with hers.
Afterwards, Bernard had gone into the bathroom alone to clean himself up. Now sated and still buzzed, he was ready to get some sleep. Going back out into the room he set his watch to wake him up at three-thirty so they could get back over to the airport in time to wait for their flight. Then he fell face first on the bed, sleep quickly claiming him.
#
“Good morning, Bernard,” she said from the chair where she sat fully dressed across from the bed.
He’d just rolled over, his watch in his hand as he’d just stopped the alarm and was contemplating if he had a few more minutes to lay there while his head continued to throb.
Bernard turned to her, his eyes cracking open, the sight of her coming slowly into view. He hadn’t told her his name. In fact, they hadn’t exchanged any of the typical information a man and a woman probably should before having sex.
Yet she knew. He frowned then, not just because of the name thing, but because her long, curly hair was gone. It had been replaced by a shorter cut, lying flat against her head in an auburn color. Her make-up was much lighter than before, he could easily see that with the light from the lamp on the nightstand glaring down at them. Bernard sat up in bed, staring at her more closely then.
“Ah, I see it’s all coming back to you,” she said, a big grin spreading slowly across her face. “Not the fun we had just a few hours ago in this bed, but well before that. Like three years ago, that’s the last time we saw each other.” She nodded and chuckled a little. “Yeah, you definitely remember now.”
“Roslyn Ausby,” Bernard said with a sickening clench to his gut. “You gold-digging bitch!”
Chapter 1
Present Day
Miami, Florida
“This is not what I expected,” Savian Donovan said with a frown, his hands hastily moving to unbutton his shirt.
“You mean you didn’t expect to be attracted to a full-figured woman with brains and beauty to match?” Jenise Langley asked, as she stood staring at him, wearing only her nightgown.
It was black satin, hugging her heavy breasts then flaring out past her full hips and thighs. She was right in that she was full-figured, Savian thought as he lay his shirt on the back of one of the two armchairs she had at the foot of her queen sized bed. Yet that wasn’t how he’d thought of her these past weeks. Actually, it had been more like three months since he’d begun sleeping with Jenise, his attorney.
The first time had happened only hours after he’d met her. He’d left her office in the high-rise building on Brickell Avenue, not at all sure she was the right attorney to handle the case between his older brother Parker and his now fiancé Adriana Bennett. That had been an identity theft and libel case. Now, Jenise was handling a murder case. Only then, Savian hadn’t known he would need representation.
All he’d known was that there was something about this woman that had rubbed him the wrong way. As Savian wasn’t the most sociable of Reginald and Carolyn’s children—or a good majority of the Donovan family as a whole—he would have normally taken that slight alarm as his second nature and ignored it just the same. But hours later, after he’d left her office and returned to his own to try and get some work done, she’d still been on his mind.
When he’d leaned back in his office chair, closing his eyes and squeezing the bridge of his nose, he hadn’t felt relief. Instead it had been more like concern because the second his eyes had closed a vision of her sitting behind her desk in that prim and proper, yet sexy as hell black business suit, formulated in his mind. For the duration of the work day he’d tried to convince himself he was simply tired and that maybe a couple hours of weights and cardio in his home gym, a hot shower and a bottle of wine would make things better.
He’d never even gotten that far.
Savian had pulled up in front of that office building with those turquoise colored windows for the second time in one day. He’d gotten out of his car and took the elevator up to her office. It was well after six in the evening but something told him she would still be there. She was, but her secretary was just leaving for the day.
“I can make an appointment for you for tomorrow, Mr. Donovan,” the tall, slim woman with the too-short skirt had advised.
“It’s alright, Gwen,” Jenise said as she’d approached from the hallway where her office was. “I’ll talk to Mr. Donovan and I’ll see you in the morning.”
She’d smiled at her secretary, a wide and totally sincere smile that showed lots of teeth and lifted her already high cheekbones. The action made her look different. Enough so that Savian frowned.
“Did you come here to scowl at me one more time, Mr. Donovan? Wasn’t sitting across from me for forty minutes looking as if you’d rather jump off the roof of this building enough?” she’d asked once her secretary had gone through the glass office doors and they stood alone in the lobby.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” he’d replied and hated hearing the words.
Savian always knew what he was doing. He always knew what he wanted and how to get it. There was never a time in his entire life that he’d been unsure, or uncertain, or even confused. Never…until now.
“If it’s not about your brother’s case, then it’s pointless. We obviously do not like each other and—” she’d been saying.
Savian did not want to hear anymore. He did not want to stand there with the strange and unknown feelings hanging over him like a dark cloud. In that instant he’d decided what he wanted and he’d taken the steps to close the distance between them so he could get it. With one arm going around her waist, he’d pulled her to him just as her words had drifted off. For what seemed like endless seconds he looked into her dark brown eyes, waiting for an answer, a reply, a rebuff, something to stop what he knew was about to happen. It never came.
Instead, his lips touched hers. Her mouth opened instantly. His tongue slipped inside. Her arms went around his neck. His tongue slid sinuously over hers. His other hand went to the nape of her neck. And before either one of them could think better of their actions, Jenise’s back was up against the lobby wall, and Savian had unzipped his pants. He quickly sheathed his throbbing shaft, pushed up her skirt and thrust his thick erection deep inside of her.
As crazy as it was totally satisfying, that had been the beginning of the hottest and most delec
table sex Savian had experienced in all his years. That, he told himself repeatedly, was why he kept coming back.
“I don’t see a full-figured woman,” he’d told her when he was completely naked and his mind was once again in the here and now.
“Oh really?” she’d asked with an arch of her brow as she moved to lay across the white comforter on her bed. “Then what do you see, Savian? What do you see on the nights you come to my apartment and enter my bedroom?”
He licked his lips and let his gaze run the length of her five foot, eight-inch tall frame. It had never occurred to him to lie, that just wasn’t in his nature. What he said to women and what he did with them would always be in truth and with full disclosure. Savian did not operate any other way.
“I see my pleasure,” he told her simply.
Savian knew the moment he lay on that bed with her that everything that was going on in his real world—the Donovan name appearing on every tabloid, gossip news show and local news broadcasts, the murder investigation, and whatever the hell was going on between his father and uncles—would disappear. There would be nothing but her, nothing but their combined pleasure and that’s what he wanted most. That’s what kept him coming back.
He climbed onto the bed, lying directly across from her, propping himself up on an elbow.
“I need that pleasure, Jenise,” he whispered hoarsely. “I need it right now.”
She’d smiled at him then. Not that happy smile that lit up her dark eyes and almost made Savian want to smile at whatever it was in response. No, this was that sexy half smile, the one that promised him everything and then some. It was the one he dreamed about and longed to see throughout the long work hours of the day.
He’d moved closer to her then, touching his palm to one full breast and squeezing lightly. He loved the feel of her in his hands, the heaviness of each globe, coupled with the softness of her skin. With quick movements he pushed the thin lacy cups of material away from her breasts and palmed her again. She arched her back to give him better access and Savian ducked his head down to lick one dark puckered nipple.
