by Gina Wilkins
Kit murmured soothingly against her breasts, then moved up to nibble at her mouth. His fingertips slid through the thatch of curls between her thighs and pressed deeper, making her ache for him. She clutched at his shoulders with trembling hands, urging her to him.
He refused to be rushed.
He explored every contour of her face with his lips, while his fingers continued their thorough, intimate investigation.
She was intensely aware of the cool night air on her bare flesh, the heat of Kit’s body where it covered hers. She wore only the tiny red panties, but Kit was still wearing his slacks. She wanted to feel more of him.
She reached between them to fumble for his zipper, and her hand brushed against the hard shaft beneath.
Kit groaned. “I’m trying to make this last,”’ he muttered, his voice rough. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
She tugged again at the fastening of his slacks. “I want to feel you.”
He pressed a hard kiss against her mouth, then lifted himself away from her just long enough to strip off the remainder of his clothing.
She couldn’t help thinking again of that magazine article he’d told her about as he stood before her wearing nothing but moonlight. As far as Savannah was concerned, Kit was the most beautiful man in the world. And for tonight, at least, he was hers.
She held out her arms.
Kit came down to her in a rush, his mouth and hands all over her. He removed her panties and tossed them heedlessly away, neither of them caring where they landed. And then he moved slowly down her body as if he was memorizing every quivering inch of her, until her breath was catching in ragged sobs in her throat, until she begged him incoherently to satisfy the desperate need he’d built in her.
When she thought she could take no more without shattering into a zillion aching pieces, Kit reached out and fumbled for his slacks. Muttering apologies for his clumsiness, he plunged his hand into one pocket and then the other, finally pulling out a small, square foil packet.
“Don’t hate me for this,” he said a bit ruefully, then ripped open the package with his teeth. “I thought it best to be prepared…just in case.”
How could she hate him for being prepared to protect her? Savannah wanted very badly to believe that she would have thought of protection herself in a moment, particularly given her history of recklessness. She would have called a halt before she took that particular risk again, she assured herself. But she was pleased that Kit had thought of it first.
He leaned over her and his eyes met hers. He brushed a strand of hair away from her perspirationdamp face. “If you don’t want this, tell me now,” he said.
“I’ve never wanted anything more,” she answered simply. “I have wanted you from the first time I danced with you.”
“Savannah.” Her name was an exultant exclamation on his lips. And then he brought his mouth down on hers as he claimed her body. She cried out, a muffled sound of shock, delight, and then an almost overwhelming surge of pleasure.
Kit didn’t make love to her gently. Savannah didn’t want him to be gentle. She was no shy, frightened girl, but a woman, with a woman’s needs. Savannah was an active participant in their lovemaking, making it very clear that this was what she wanted. That she knew exactly what she was doing.
And Kit made it equally clear that he enjoyed every minute of it.
They came together in an explosion of pleasure so intense Savannah would have almost sworn the ground shook beneath them. Her throaty cry echoed in the darkness, along with his hoarse moan.
And then he gathered her close, bathing her face in kisses, murmuring endearments, holding her until the tremors slowed, until her heart stopped pounding so hard she thought it would break right through her chest.
When her mind stopped spinning enough for her to form a coherent thought, Savannah couldn’t help wondering again if there was anything Christopher Pace did badly.
10
THEY TOOK THEIR TIME recovering. Savannah lay against Kit’s shoulder, his arms snugly around her as she gazed up at the stars. The words “I love you” whispered through her mind. But, even if Kit was ready to hear them, she wasn’t ready to say them. There were still too many unanswered questions, too many strikes against them.
Kit pressed a kiss against her hair. “Are you okay?”
“Better than okay,” she answered dreamily. “I’m floating.”
He chuckled. “I know the feeling.”
She had only one problem at the moment. “Kit?”
“Mmm?”
“I’m thirsty.”
He chuckled. “So am L Why don’t we finish that wine?”
Taking their time, they dressed, stopping frequently for kisses and intimate touches. And then Kit poured the last of the wine into their glasses.
“To a perfect evening,” he murmured, touching his glass to hers.
“Perfect,” she agreed and lifted the glass to her slightly tender lips.
They sat on the glider with their wine. Kit slipped his left arm around Savannah’s shoulders and gently rocked the glider with his foot. She nestled against him, savoring the closeness between them.
“I have to go back to L.A. in the morning,” Kit said after several long moments of companionable silence.
Her blissful mood immediately dimmed.
“Do you?” she asked, keeping her tone neutral.
“Yes. I have an important meeting tomorrow afternoon, and several interviews scheduled during the coming week to promote my new book. I don’t suppose—?”
“What?”
“Could you come with me?”
She shook her head. “No,” she answered gently. “I have to work. And I can’t leave the twins again so soon after my last vacation.”
“They could come, too. After all, they’re out of school. They’d have a great time. I could probably arrange a day at Disneyland.”
She was touched that he was willing to include her children, but she shook her head again. “I can’t, Kit I have to work.”
He sighed faintly. “I expected you to say that, but I thought it was worth a shot.”
Even if she hadn’t had to work, Savannah couldn’t seriously imagine taking him up on his offer. She didn’t belong in L.A. She was a small-town girl through-and-through. She would have nothing in common with Kit’s sophisticated friends, nothing to say to the high-powered movers and shakers in Hollywood. Not to mention her dread of being caught in the media spotlight with Kit
She almost shuddered at the thought of seeing her photograph on a tabloid page beneath a coy headline questioning her relationship with the famous Christopher Pace. Or, even worse, photos of her children.
No way, she thought flatly. This was exactly why she’d kept her feelings for Kit unspoken. She couldn’t commit to something that simply couldn’t work.
She told herself she would have no regrets. Tonight had been a once-in-a-lifetime evening that was worth all the heartache that would surely come.
“At least I’m giving you notice that I’ll be leaving in the morning. I’m not slipping away without saying goodbye.” Kit’s tone was light, teasing, but she could tell that the memory of her departure from Serendipity still stung.
She almost apologized again. She bit the words back because she knew that under the same circumstances she would probably make the same choice. Leaving Kit had been the practical, logical, safe thing to do.
She’d had no idea, of course, that he would follow her.
“I’ll be back,” Kit said, “as soon as I can.”
Savannah bit her lip and looked away.
Kit stiffened. “Savannah?”
“Yes?”
“You do want me to come back, don’t you?”
Did she want him to come back? Oh, yes, she wanted him to. She wanted him never to leave.
But did she think it was a good idea? That was a question she couldn’t answer as easily.
“Damn it, Savannah.” For the first time since she’d met him,
Kit sounded impatient. “How can you run away from me again? Now, after what just happened between us?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she answered.
“Not physically, maybe. But emotionally…you just slipped away again without saying goodbye.”
Savannah sighed and ran a hand through her disheveled hair. “I just need time, Kit. Everything between us has happened so quickly. I wasn’t prepared for this.”
“And neither was I. But that didn’t stop it from happening, did it?”
“It’s too fast,” she repeated stubbornly.
He exhaled loudly, clearly frustrated. “All right,” he said after a moment. “I won’t push you. But I’m not giving up on us, Savannah. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, even when I didn’t know your last name. There’s no way I can forget you after what has happened between us tonight.”
“I don’t want you to forget me,” she whispered, turning her head to look at him. “I just want you to give me time.”
Time to see how her children would be affected. Time to find out exactly how serious Kit was about this budding affair. Time to search her own heart to determine just how much she was willing to risk to be with Kit.
His face softened in the guttering candlelight “Take all the time you need,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “You’ll find that I can be very patient when something is this important to me.”
He could be very persistent, as well. And Savannah suspected uneasily that the combination would be very difficult to resist.
IT WAS VERY LATE when Kit took Savannah home. She knew she’d look haggard at the office the next day, but she didn’t want the night to end.
Kit kissed her at her door, making the embrace last for a long time before he finally, reluctantly drew back. “I’ll call you.”
She nodded. “Good luck with your meetings and…and everything.”
His mouth crooked into a wry grin. “Thanks.”
She started to open her door, then looked at him uncertainly. “Kit?”
“Yes?”
“You, er, wouldn’t say anything about me during those interviews, would you? If anyone asks where you’ve been the past few days, or who you’ve been with…”
His smile vanished. “I don’t talk about my personal life to the media, Savannah. And I don’t expose my friends to unwelcome publicity.”
She could tell that she’d offended him. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “It’s just…well, I’ve never dated a celebrity before,” she finished lamely.
“You could really tick me off, you know that?” he said, but there was no real anger in his voice. He managed to smile again. “Just trust me a little, will you?”
“I’m trying,” she answered seriously. “This isn’t easy for me.”
“I know.” He touched her cheek, the gesture so tender it brought a lump to her throat.
“Good night, Kit,” she whispered.
“Good night, love.”
With that, he turned and walked away. Savannah let herself inside the house, then leaned back against the door, her knees still weak from his husky endearment.
Love.
She really wasn’t prepared for this.
EVERYONE ELSE was already in the kitchen when Savannah walked in the next morning. Avoiding her mother’s worried eyes, Savannah headed straight for the coffeepot.
“Well?” Miranda asked avidly. “How was your date with Kit last night?”
“We had a very nice time,” Savannah replied lightly. “He took me dancing.”
He’d taken her flying…but, of course, this was no time to get into that.
“You certainly got in late enough,” Ernestine commented.
“Checking up on me, Mother?” Savannah glanced her way with a forced smile. “Should I remind you that I’ve outgrown curfews?”
“I’ll sure be glad when I can say that,” Michael muttered beneath his breath.
Savannah leveled a look at her son. “Yes, well, that’s going to be a while yet, so get used to it.”
“He took you dancing.” Miranda was still young enough to be a die-hard romantic, and get away with it. “That is so cool.”
Savannah carried her coffee and bagel to the table as Miranda asked, “Why don’t you like Kit, Grandma? I think he’s really nice.”
“Me, too,” Michael seconded loyally. “We had fun playing ball Saturday. Nick was so jealous when he…”
“Nick?” Savannah lifted her head and narrowed her eyes at her son. “How did Nick know you played ball with Kit?”
“I…uh…”
“Michael, did you call Nick after I told you not to?”
She could tell by his expression that he had.
“Why would you do something that you knew I’d forbidden?” she said angrily.
Michael was obviously just as angry with himself— but for his slip of the tongue, not for his insubordination. “I just wanted to tell him about me and Kit,” he muttered. “We only talked for a couple of minutes.”
“I told you no telephone calls—no telephone calls for two weeks. That was your punishment for breaking the law Thursday night, Michael. I’ve allowed you a great deal of leeway—including playing ball with Kit on Saturday—but I will not be deliberately disobeyed again. Is that clear?”
“Yes’m,” Michael mumbled.
“Is that clear, Michael?” she repeated. “Because I can always ground you for a month, if I think it’s necessary in order to get you to take me seriously.”
Michael’s eyes widened. “No, don’t do that I won’t disobey you again.”
“Good. I’ll be at work all day, but Grandma will be here to keep an eye on you. You’ll back me up on this, won’t you, Mother?”
“To keep him away from that Whitley boy?” Ernestine nodded curtly. “I surely wil.”
Savannah pushed away from the table. “I have to get ready for work. We’ll talk about this more later.”
“Is Kit coming over tonight?” Miranda asked hopefully.
“Kit had to go back to L.A. this morning,” Savannah replied, rinsing her coffee cup.
Both twins groaned. Ernestine didn’t look surprised.
Savannah realized that her mother had never answered Miranda’s question about why she didn’t like Kit Savannah would have liked to hear the answer to that. As far as she could tell, Kit had done nothing to warrant Ernestine’s displeasure.
“Is he coming back?” Michael asked.
“He said he will. But, remember, kids, Kit is a very busy man. You can’t expect him to spend much time in Campbellville.”
Ernestine’s fork clattered against her plate, but she didn’t say anything.
“I have to get ready,” Savannah repeated with a quick, harried look at the oven clock. “I’m going to be late.”
She left a notably pensive family behind her, all of them lost in their own private thoughts. Savannah suspected that Christopher Pace figured prominently in all of their reveries.
She knew he wouldn’t be far from her own thoughts that day.
SAVANNAH WALKED into her office that morning and all conversation stopped. The sudden silence was profound—and revealing. Savannah had obviously been the subject of speculation.
“Good morning,” Patty said brightly, her round cheeks a bit flushed. “Did you have a nice weekend?”
“Yes, very nice, thank you.” Savannah headed for her own desk, keeping her expression neutral.
“So when are we going to get to meet Christopher Pace? I’ve never gotten to meet a real Hollywood celebrity before.”
“Kit went back to L.A. this morning,” Savannah explained. “He had meetings and interviews scheduled for this week.”
Patty’s face fell. “Oh. I was really hoping to meet him. He’ll be back, won’t he?”
“Perhaps; though I really can’t say when. It depends, I suppose, on how much more research he needs for his book.” Savannah kept her voice light, airy, as if it really didn’t matter to her
whether Kit came back or not.
And if she pulled that off, she had more acting talent than she’d ever given herself credit for, she thought wryly.
Apparently, she wouldn’t be winning any theatrical awards. Patty’s expression was decidedly skeptical when Savannah glanced back before entering her office…
She fended off questions from her co-workers and impertinent commentary from construction-crew members all morning. Her determined refusal to elaborate on her relationship, or lack of one, with Kit finally seemed to be having an effect. By lunchtime, everyone was caught up in the busy work day.
And then the roses arrived. A dozen of them. Red.
“For you, Savannah,” Patty said, sailing into her office with the fragrant arrangement in her arms. “Gee. I wonder who sent them.”
Torn between delight with the beautiful blooms and dismay that Kit had made such a blatantly public gesture, Savannah tried to smile in response to Patty’s jesting tone. “I assume there’s a card?”
“Seems to be one tucked in here. Want me to read it to you?”
Knowing Patty was still teasing, Savannah held onto her smile. “No, thank you. I believe I can handle that part myself.”
“He sent them, didn’t he?” As she set the arrangement on Savannah’s desk, Patty touched one velvety bloom almost reverently.
“I haven’t read the card yet,” Savannah evaded.
“Yes, but you know they’re from him.”
Savannah was spared having to answer when Patty’s phone lines began to ring. Clearly frustrated, Patty returned to her desk. But Savannah knew the questions wouldn’t go away as easily.
She opened the florist’s card with unsteady fingers.
“Think of me,” was all it said. No signature. But, of course, none was required.
Her mouth twisted wryly. Kit must surely know that she’d thought of little else but him since he’d appeared on her doorstep only a few nights ago.
SAVANNAH KNEW from the moment she walked into her kitchen that evening that something had upset Ernestine.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, worried that Michael had given his grandmother problems.