Heart of the Night

by Barbara Delinsky

  Just looking at him made her insides melt.

  Catching sight of her, he dropped his arm and straightened. “I was getting lonesome,” he said in a deep, very Jared Snow voice. He started toward her.

  Head-on, he was even more impressive than from behind. Without his clothes he seemed larger, more firmly developed. He wasn’t hairy; there was a spray of tawny down on his upper chest, but it quickly descended into a narrow line that disappeared into his navel. Below that, the hair was darker, thicker, and below that, he was amply endowed.

  Savannah’s mouth had gone completely dry.

  Taking the vase of flowers from her hands, he set it on the nightstand. Then he returned to her, framed her face with his hands, and kissed her very lightly, very gently. When he had satisfied himself with one angle, he tipped his head and tried another, and after he’d explored that with the same lazy curiosity, he tried a third.

  By the time he raised his head and looked down at her, the gray flecks in his eyes had gone noticeably darker. He lowered his hands to her shoulders, whispering hoarsely, “I want you as naked as me,” and slid off her robe and nightshirt with the single sweep of each hand.

  Taking a step back, he looked at her. She tried to cover her breasts, but he easily captured her wrists and held them away.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  She shook her head. “My sister’s the beautiful one. I’m the smart one.”

  “You’re beautiful and smart.” Drawing her closer, he flattened her hands on his chest, moved them in slow circles over his nipples, then guided them lower. When they reached his groin, he closed her fingers around his erection. He saw her eyes widen, knew what she was thinking. “That’s how much I want you,” he said in a low rasp. “You’ve already taken all of me inside. I won’t hurt you.”

  Savannah dropped her gaze to her hands. She moved them in a gentle caress, loosened them to touch the velvet head, then trace the length of the ridge underneath. The more gently she explored him, the harder he grew, and the harder he grew, the more she wanted him.

  Trembling inside, she came closer. Her view was obstructed when Jared began to touch her nipples. Already tight, they grew painfully so, mirroring the knot that had gathered low in her belly. She let out a low moan, dropped her head back, and closed her eyes.

  Nudging her around, Jared sat her on the edge of the bed, perched sideways next to her and covered her open mouth with his. His kiss was deep and wet, and while she was in the throes of it, he spread her legs and slid one finger, then a second, inside her.

  She cried his name, but it was muffled in his mouth. He wasn’t ending the kiss any more than he was removing his fingers, and then he started doing such wonderful things with both that the only sounds she made were ones of pure pleasure. She was unaware of spreading her legs wider, even raising her knees, unaware that she was clutching his shoulders for dear life. The pleasure he gave her was so intense that she knew nothing until he quickly brought her over to straddle his lap and thrust into her, when she shattered into a million fragments of joy.

  When she returned to earth, her face was buried in his hair, her arms were coiled tightly around his neck, every meeting place of their bodies was wet with sweat, and he was breathing as roughly as she.

  “Jesus,” he croaked.

  She sputtered out a laugh. “My thought exactly.”

  After another minute of slowly diminishing gasps, he said, “What do you do to me?”

  “Me? You were the one who started it.” She imitated his deep drawl. “I want you as naked as me.”

  “It seemed only fair.”

  “Fair? I’ll probably be bowlegged for a week. I’m not conditioned to this.”

  “Thank God.” He fell backward and rolled over, came up on his knees, and hoisted Savannah higher on the bed. Grabbing the sheet that had been kicked into a bunch long before, he came down beside her, settled her comfortably in his arms, and drew the sheet high. “I think,” he said slowly, “that I’d like to sleep now.”

  Savannah brushed her nose against his chest. “Fine for you to say. You’re not picking up your sister at ten forty-five. If I fall asleep now, I may not wake up.”

  “You’ll wake up.”

  She hummed out a sound that quite perfectly captured his own sense of pleasant exhaustion.

  “You should have set it for twelve,” he murmured against her hair.

  “Mmm.”

  “Call her and change it.”

  “She’ll be furious if I wake her up to tell her she can sleep later.”

  “You sound like you’re afraid of her.”

  “No.”

  “Are you?”

  “No. It’s just that she wouldn’t understand why I wanted more time to sleep.”

  “You mean to tell me,” he asked slowly, “that she’s never been zonked by early morning love?”

  “I don’t know, but that’s not the point. The point is that she doesn’t expect it of me.”

  “Because you’re the smart one, not the beautiful one?” He gave a sleepy chuckle. “Clue her in.”

  But Savannah couldn’t do that. Susan prided herself on being the stronger of the two when it came to sex appeal. As smug as Savannah felt at that moment, she didn’t want to rob Susan of that edge. Her sister felt confident about so little else.

  Jared’s breathing lengthened. He was soon asleep. Lulled by the rise and fall of his chest, Savannah followed. When she awoke, it was nearly ten.

  “Oh, no,” she murmured, scrambling away from Jared and off the bed. She made straight for the bathroom, within seconds was under the shower, within minutes was out and drying herself as quickly as she could. It was ten-thirty when she picked up the bedroom phone and punched out Susan’s number.

  The line was busy.

  Jared was sleeping soundly, sprawled on his stomach with one arm over the spot where she should have been.

  She tried Susan again. The line was still busy.

  Coming down on the edge of the bed, she watched him sleep. He looked totally comfortable and very masculine against the feminine decor. She couldn’t quite believe that he was there, but he didn’t go away when she blinked.

  She tried Susan again. This time she got through. “Hey, Suse, just wanted to tell you I’m on my way.”

  There was a pause, then a mercifully sober, “You’re late.”

  “Not by much, but I didn’t want you to worry. I’ll be there soon.” She hung up before her sister could say anything else. Then she looked at Jared. He was still sleeping.

  Unable to resist, she leaned over and put a light kiss on his cheek. He didn’t stir. For a final minute, she enjoyed the sight of him. Then she rose from the bed, crossed to the dresser to pick up the purse and heels she’d set there a short time before, and, with a last, longing glance at Jared, she left the room.

  CHAPTER 12

  Susan wasn’t alone when Savannah arrived. Dianne Walker, Susan’s former sister-in-law, was there to open the door, swathed in fur and Obsession.

  “Happy birthday, darling,” she said, offering first one cheek, then the other to Savannah. “We missed you last night. The party was divine, wasn’t it, love?” she said to Susan, who had come up from behind. Without awaiting an answer, she addressed Savannah again. “You’re such a stranger. Always working. I’m glad you’re taking Susan off for the day, though. It’s been a dreadful week.” She was studying Savannah closely. “But you’re looking wonderful, darling. Kidnappings must agree with you.”

  Under normal circumstances, Savannah would have reacted to so offensive a comment. But she was feeling unusually light inside, and very indulgent. “A good night’s rest will do it every time.” Sidestepping Dianne, she gave Susan a hug. “Happy birthday, Sis.”

  Susan returned the hug. “You, too.”

  “All set to go?”

  “I need another two minutes on my makeup. Dianne distracted me.”

  Two minutes would be five, and Savannah knew she would be stuck with Di
anne during that time. But she said, “Go ahead and finish. I want to give the hospital a call and see how Megan’s doing.”

  Excusing herself, she took off for the den and put through the call. Will answered the phone in Megan’s room, his hello a tired one.

  “Hi, Will. It’s Savannah. How’s she doing?”

  “Okay.”

  “Did she sleep last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is she feeling any better?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “She’s still not saying much?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And you can’t talk freely because she’s listening. Has the psychiatrist been in?”

  “Several times.”

  “The detectives?”

  “Yes.”

  “She isn’t offering any more than she did before?”

  “No.” With a breath, he went on more optimistically. “We’ve been watching television this morning.”

  “Ah. That’s something.” It was certainly more than Megan had done the day before. “Do you think she’ll talk with me?”

  The optimism vanished. “Uh, I don’t think so, Savannah. She’s not really feeling up to talking on the—wait a second.” He put a hand over the phone. For a minute his voice was too muffled for Savannah to make out the words, then he came back. “Hold on.”

  Savannah held tight to the phone, then her heart gave a lurch.

  “Savvy?” It was Megan, sounding pitifully frail, but talking at last.

  Savannah wanted to laugh aloud. It was one of those days. “Meg! Oh, Meg, it’s good to hear your voice. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m sorry, Savvy.” The words were little more than a tormented whisper. “God, I’m sorry.”

  “Shhh. You have nothing to apologize for.”

  There was a pause, then the same wrenching murmur. “I’ve made a royal mess of things.”

  “Are you kidding? You’ve been the victim of a vicious crime. You have nothing, nothing to apologize for.”

  There was another pause. “You had such high hopes for me.”

  “I still do. You’ll heal, Meggie. You’ll work all this out and put it behind you. I know that sounds simplistic, but life goes on. You’re a fighter. You’ve fought things in the past, and you’ll fight this, too.”

  “You don’t know.”

  “No one does. No one knows what you’ve been through but someone who’s been through the same thing. You’ll be able to talk with some of those people, honey. There are support groups—”

  “No!”

  “They’ll help.”

  “They won’t. You don’t know. You just don’t know—” Her voice broke off, swallowed up by a thick silence. Then Savannah heard the first slow, soft sobs.

  On the one hand, the sound was wonderful. Up to that point, Megan had been unable to release the anguish she felt. Crying was critical to her recovery. It was also a painful thing to hear.

  For the first time that day, Savannah felt a weight on her shoulders. “Ahhh, Meggie,” she soothed, wishing she was there, “it’s okay. It’s okay.”

  “I just wanted—I wanted—it’s your birthday.”

  Tears came to Savannah’s eyes. That Megan remembered the day, after all she’d been through, touched her deeply. “Another birthday. I’m beginning to wish they wouldn’t come.”

  “You should celebrate—not waste time—thinking of me.”

  “Thinking of you is never a waste of time. You’re a very special friend. You always will be.”

  It was another minute of soft crying before Megan said, “I don’t deserve you.”

  “Nuh-uh. You’ve got that backwards. I don’t deserve you.” And she meant it. Megan had always had a way of putting things in perspective for Savannah, and it was no different now. “Listen, I’m at Susan’s. As soon as she’s finished dressing, we’re coming by the hospital to—”

  “No!”

  “Just to say hi?”

  “No!”

  “But that would make our birthday complete.”

  “God, no—tell Susan—I love you both—”

  “Listen, we’re going up to Boston, but we could come by the hospital on the way back—”

  “Savannah, it’s me,” Will interrupted distractedly. More distantly, he said, “Shhh. Okay, sweetheart.” Then he came back to Savannah. “I’ve got to go.” He hung up the phone.

  Stunned and more than a little concerned, Savannah held the dead receiver suspended in midair before finally returning it to its cradle.

  “I take it she’s beginning to come out of it?”

  Savannah swung around to find Dianne at the door, looking perfectly settled in, as though she’d been there awhile.

  Savannah didn’t like Dianne Walker. She was, in her opinion, the epitome of unconscionable wealth and waste. Her life was an endless string of social engagements, and though she lent her name to numerous causes, the only one she worked actively for was her own beautification. Savannah couldn’t call her Susan’s friend, because friends didn’t stab friends in the back, which was what Dianne had done when Susan and Dirk had split.

  Why Susan allowed the woman in her house was a mystery to Savannah, but then, admittedly, Savannah was not up on the latest gossip. She would ask Susan later. In the meanwhile, she had to deal with Dianne and her eavesdropping.

  “Megan will be just fine,” she said, and prayed it was true. “She’s a strong woman.”

  “Slightly out of her league, though, don’t you think?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “We both know where she came from. She’s had enough trouble adjusting to our kind of life without something like this happening.”

  Any indulgence Savannah had felt earlier was gone. “Something like this would shake any one of us. Forget the fact of the kidnapping. Have you ever been raped, Dianne?”

  Dianne arched an elegant brow. “I’ve been forced to have sex when I didn’t want to, so yes, I’ve been raped.”

  “Ever been raped by two men, repeatedly?”

  “I remember an orgy in Puerto Vallarta—”

  “I’m not talking about orgies. I’m talking about two men, total strangers who violently break into your home, take you to some filthy place you’ve never seen before, and rape you without letting you know when it will end and whether you’ll be alive when it does. Have you ever experienced that, Dianne?”

  “No, but I’d know how to handle it if it happened. A woman is never powerless where a man is concerned. Even submission can buy her points. And that’s what it’s about—points. You give me this and I’ll give you that.”

  “We’re talking irrational, violent men here.”

  “Men are men. Each has his weakness. Any man can be bought.”

  “What a sick view of the world.”

  One fur-draped shoulder rose and fell in a negligent shrug. “It’s a realistic one.”

  “No. I can guarantee that if you’d been in Megan’s shoes, you’d have been as traumatized as she was.”

  “I doubt that.”

  Savannah stepped past her on the way to find Susan. “If I were a malicious person, Dianne, I’d wish the experience on you just to see. But I’m not that cruel.”

  Dianne followed her into the hall. “And that’s your weakness, Savannah. You’re too good. You don’t have enough of the bitch in you.”

  “Thank God.”

  “You do fine in your job. You don’t have to be a bitch there, just a disciplined technocrat. With the law behind you, you can be firm.”

  “Suse!” Savannah called from the bottom of the stairs. “Step on it, Suse!”

  Dianne looked pensively up the stairs. “Susie’s a little too soft, too, but she’s doing better. She wasn’t demanding enough with Dirk. She let him get away with hell, especially when it came to his secretary. But she’s learning. She walked through the party last night like she didn’t give a damn about the men there, so of course, that sparked their interest. Even Dirk was lookin
g twice. I don’t know why she left so early. She was barely tipsy.”

  Tight-lipped, Savannah stared at her. “What was Dirk doing with his secretary?” For her efforts at self-control, she earned a droll look from Dianne.

  “Must I spell it out? You’re not that naive, Savannah, are you?”

  “How long did it go on?”

  “A year or two. When the stupid girl wrote Susan a letter, Susan couldn’t ignore it any longer.” Dianne eyed her askance. “You knew about the letter, didn’t you?”

  She hadn’t known about the letter, any more than she’d known about the secretary. She had known about Dirk’s infidelity, but there had never been a name and face attached. She hurt for Susan, and hurt for herself. She wondered why Susan hadn’t told her.

  But she wasn’t about to give Dianne the satisfaction of knowing she’d dropped a bomb. So she said in a chilly tone, “You can never tell about these things. Even a letter can be more fantasy than not.” She looked toward the top of the stairs. “Susan?”

  “All set,” Susan called, appearing seconds later clipping on an earring. She was fully dressed and made up, and looked stunning.

  “Sorry to run out on you this way,” Savannah told Dianne a bit airily, “but we’re running a little late. We have lunch reservations at two, with a million things to do before then.” She turned to Susan. “Want me to drive?”

  “No. I’ll take the Jag. It needs a good outing.” Removing her fur from the closet, she draped it over her arm. “Dianne.” She hugged her lightly. “Thanks for dropping by. I’ll talk with you soon.

  “Sure you won’t reconsider for tonight? It’ll be fun.”

  But Susan shook her head. “Can’t. I have other plans.” The phone rang. “Why don’t you walk Dianne out?” she told Savannah as she headed for the den. “I’ll get that and meet you out front.” She picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Are you all right?”

  Susan shut her eyes. “Sam.”

  “You were angry before.”

  Her eyes popped open. “I was in a rush before, and I’m in a rush now. I told you. Savannah and I are going out for the day, and she’s always prompt. You should know that. She’s out front right now waiting for me.”