by Rita Herron
* * *
Sophie was so worried about Peter and the talent scout and whether or not to return Rory's and George's calls that she'd barely had time to think about Lance still being at her house when she arrived home. But as soon as she saw his face, the familiar tingle rippled through her to her toes, and heat charged up her body.
He looked different. She couldn't quite pinpoint how, but his expression, though guarded, definitely held an underlying note of hunger as well as mystery.
"Sophie," he said in a husky voice. "What do you think of the kitchen so far?"
Were they in the kitchen?
"It's hot," she said, then caught her lip between her teeth when he grinned.
"Yes, it is."
Twisting her hands together, she fought a nervous smile and tried to focus on the renovation. "The paint looks wonderful. I love the yellow."
"It does open the room up," Lance admitted.
"And the molding looks so much brighter."
"I need to apply another coat, and then touch up, but it's definitely coming along."
"Oh, yeah." He was watching her so intently, she turned to check the messages on the phone, but saw the light blinking and changed her mind. Sunlight flickered through the window, though, and the stained-glass window caught her eye. Hand-painted purple and yellow tulips danced in between blades of tall green grass.
"Oh, my gosh." Tears blurred her eyes.
"It's the one you wanted, right?"
She whirled around, blinking rapidly. "Lance, how... how did you know? I thought Maddie said it was too expensive—"
"We worked it out," he said. "I have arrangements with a few of the suppliers in town. We cut each other breaks."
"I can't believe you did that. I... I love it." She reached out to hug him, then restrained herself. "Thank you."
"It belongs here." A slow smile curved his mouth. "Your table will come tomorrow."
Her gaze dropped to the old rickety one she'd been making do with, and she narrowed her eyes at the six-pack of diet Coke with the balloons bobbing in the air. "What's that?"
Lance rolled back on the balls of his feet, his look sheepish. "I apologized the other night. Now I want to make up for the 'Dating Game' fiasco."
"What?"
"Each balloon has an idea for a date inside. Pop one each day for the next six days; the note inside describes what our date will be."
She gazed up at him in awe. "You want six dates with me?"
He nodded, then laid his hands over her shoulders, turned her to face him, and gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. Her breath caught at the restless desire in his eyes.
"What changed your mind, Lance?"
His finger touched her lip. "Like I said, I can't sleep for thinking about you."
Sophie pressed a kiss to the tip of his finger. "Really? I didn't think you ever lost sleep over a woman."
"I never did before." His reply rolled out on a husky sigh.
Sophie's heart banged around in her chest, her emotions boomeranging between hope and fear of getting her hopes up. "If this is about the other night, what we almost did on the floor, well..." She couldn't believe she had the courage to say this, but she went on: "I don't want a one-nighter, Lance." She glanced at the balloons. "Or even just six."
He cupped her face in his hands. "I know. And I can't make any promises, Sophie," he said in a rough whisper, "but I would like to see where this takes us."
* * *
While Peter had finished his interview, Lucy had skimmed the contents of her new charm book and written up a spell to counteract whatever lovesick spell had trapped Sophie in Lance's clutches.
Then she dropped Peter at the hotel and indulged in a shopping spree, emerging from one of the stores braless, wearing a silky red halter top with low-slung white cotton pants that dipped below her navel and white high-heeled sandals that showed off her new pedicure. Her belly button ring glittered in the fading sunlight, and the tips of her fire engine-red toenails matched her top. Dotting perfume between her breasts added the final touch.
She stopped by a small bistro she'd discovered while shopping, ordered a picnic dinner, grabbed a bottle of wine and glasses to complement the shrimp cakes and freshly baked breads, cheeses and fruits, and headed to Skidaway. Reid should be finishing up for the day. Tonight she intended to knock his socks off—literally.
When she arrived at the construction site, Reid's crew was packing up supplies. He patted his men on the back, making jokes and doling out orders for the next day. He was obviously in charge. The boss.
She admired his drive and skill. And she had never seen anything as fabulous as the antebellum house they had built. It was fashioned after the Elizabeth Henry House near historic River Street, and reminded her of castles and days gone by. Normally she wasn't a nostalgic person, but for some reason the huge white columns and sleeping porches on the back overlooking the water brought visions of Scarlett and Rhett, along with her own childhood fantasies of sharing a steamy romance with her own Southern hero.
Dusk was settling over the Skidaway River, a halo of orange sitting on top of the water. The air was filled with the sound of the river rushing over rocks and birds twittering in the tall trees bordering the riverbank. Reid's eyes lit up in surprise as she teetered toward him, but a black cat suddenly skittered in front of her, jarring her nerves. The black cat was a bad sign.
She silently recited one of her charms to ward off any bad luck.
Reid met her halfway. "What are you doing here?"
"I brought a picnic dinner, thought we might share it by the water." She tried to blink coyly while scanning the area for possible dangers. "That is, if you don't already have plans."
"Sugar, if I did have plans, I'd change them." His gaze skimmed down her top, making her nipples stiffen beneath the slinky fabric, then lingered on her navel. "And you have perfect timing; the last of the work crew just left."
So they were all alone. And no dangers, except for Reid. "I'll get the wine if you want to bring the basket."
He followed her and grabbed the basket while she removed a blanket from the backseat and tucked the wine under her arm. Her heels dug into the plush grass as they made their way around to the back of the house. Soon it would be sold, Lucy thought, a family moving in to occupy its massive rooms and fill it with memories. But tonight she intended to make her own memories with Reid to take back with her to Vegas.
"You look fabulous, Lucy," Reid said with a gleam in his eyes.
"Thanks, you look hot yourself." Lucy raked her eyes over his muscular torso in unadulterated appreciation. He wore a khaki shirt that had hints of dirt and sweat clinging to it, all a testament to the fact that he was a hardworking man who made a living with his hands.
Those big hands...
She spread the blanket onto the thick carpet of grass, imagining the pleasure they would bring her. Then she twined his fingers between her own and led him to sit down. His gaze locked with hers, fire breathing between the two of them as they sank down onto the blanket.
She reached for the corkscrew. "You can take out the food if you want," Lucy said. "I hope you like shrimp cakes."
Reid's stomach growled in reply, and they both laughed. "It looks delicious." Reid glanced down at his clothes for the first time. "I should probably clean up first, though."
Lucy's heart fluttered when he began to unbutton his shirt. Inch by inch the fabric fell away, revealing a solid wall of sculpted muscles dusted with light brown hair. She swallowed hard, nearly spilling the wine as she poured them each a glass.
"I'll be right back."
Lucy's fingers traced up and down the stem of the wineglass as he stood and strode toward the river. In a masculine gesture that robbed her breath, he knelt and rinsed his hands, then splashed water on his face and ran his hands over his chest to wipe away the dirt and sweat.
Mercy. She wanted to run her hands over him.
As he strode back to her, she recognized the devilish
glint to his eyes. The damn man knew he was turning her on, and he loved it.
Well, two could play that game.
She licked her lips, then ran her tongue around the rim of the wineglass. His gaze followed the movement.
"Are you hungry?"
"Starved."
"Ready to eat?"
"Oh, yeah."
Lucy laughed, enjoying their wordplay. But she wanted to prolong the pleasure, so she opened the cartons of potato salad and fruit and the plate of shrimp cakes, and gestured for him to partake. For several heat-filled minutes they nibbled on the food, enjoying the lull of the river rushing over the rocks and the sounds of nature in the woods beyond. Shadows danced from the trees, and the fresh scents of grass and wildflowers and the spicy shrimp filled the balmy spring air, while thunderclouds rolled in from a distance.
"I have to leave Sunday," Lucy said.
Reid sipped his wine. "It seems like you just arrived."
"I know. It's been a terrific week."
"You did a great job on Sophie's show."
"You watched?"
Reid licked his fingers, causing Lucy's stomach to tighten. "Lunchtime."
Lucy stuffed her plate in the garbage bag, frowning as the sky darkened with the onset of a spring thunderstorm. "Liar. You were curious about my Sleepover products, weren't you?"
Reid pushed his plate away and cupped his hand at the back of her neck. "Sugar, you don't need any of that fake stuff with me." He dipped his mouth to kiss her. "Don't you know the real thing's better?"
"Really?" Lucy traced a finger along his jaw. "Maybe you'd better show me."
Their mouths met, tasted, explored. Reid threaded one hand into her hair, drawing her closer into the vee of his spread legs, while his other hand snaked lower to tease the delicate nipples that stood begging for his attention. The suckling noises he made as he dipped his head to lick at her skin sent heat radiating through her body. She wanted him, desperately wanted to have him touch her in all those burning places.
She clung to him, digging her hands into his hair, then scraping her fingers along his bare back, urging him to hurry. He slowed the torture, though, pushing her onto her back and kneeling above her, letting his hands work their magic as he kneaded her breasts and slowly untied her halter top. As the material fell away, his gaze latched on to her breasts.
The warm spring air bathed her bare skin just before she felt his breath on her neck, and when he trailed kisses down her body and teased her nipples to stiff peaks again, she writhed and clawed at his arms.
"Goodness, Reid, I want you so much."
"I want you, too, baby, and this time nothing is going to stop us."
Chapter 16
Sophie was stunned by the creativity Lance had shown in setting up the date choices. He had arranged an intimate personalized tour with the Victorian Lady on East Fifty-fifth Street. She flaunted a thick Southern accent and vintage Victorian attire, escorting them on foot to Monterey Square on Bull Street.
"The square was named to commemorate the Battle of Monterey during the war with Mexico. The monument honors Kazimierz Pulaski, a Polish nobleman who was mortally wounded during the Siege of Savannah while fighting for the Americans."
"Wasn't it removed and a fake one used during the filming of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil?" Lance asked.
Sophie studied Lance, surprised by his knowledge.
The Victorian lady nodded. "Yes, they removed it for repairs." She gestured for them to follow her. "This is the famous Mercer House," she said. "It was completed in 1871, and is one of the finest examples of Italianate architecture in the city. Some of the most stunning features include the ornamental ironwork accents, the eight balconies, and a sidewalk fence. There's also a lush garden with pond and fountain."
"It's magnificent," Sophie said.
"Yes, Berendt's work has drawn thousands of tourists to discover its elegance."
"The antiques dealer Jim Williams restored it?" Lance asked.
"Yes, he's also credited with restoring nearly seventy other Savannah homes."
"You like his work, don't you?" Sophie asked Lance.
The back of his hand brushed her waist as he guided her along. "Oh, yeah," Lance said with awe in his voice. "I've studied photographs, too, for ideas."
Sophie smiled, her admiration for Lance growing again. Although he seemed to enjoy hands-on labor, he obviously knew his history and studied his craft. One day maybe his renovations would be marked in the Savannah Historical Society's register.
Next they stopped to look at the Congregation Mickve Israel, which was the only Gothic synagogue in America, then on to the Victorian-style inn on Lafayette Square near the cathedral of Saint John the Baptist.
"We're going inside this one," Lance said.
Excitement mushroomed in Sophie's chest. Although she'd been in Savannah for almost a year, she'd never toured the historic homes or inns. As soon as she stepped inside and saw the dark red walls and rich gold hues, adrenaline surged through her. To the left sat a stately formal dining room where guests could enjoy Sunday brunch. Period paintings adorned the walls, and a red-and-gold tapestry rug stretched from one edge of the wood floor to the opposite wall. To the right a library stood with welcoming arms, boasting a collection of antique books available to guests for their pleasure, and were housed in antique bookcases that flanked a marbleized fireplace. The colors here were more muted—"bomber jacket" walls, a French armoire, and a liqueur service enhanced the comfortable atmosphere. Rococo revival love seats and two striped Empire chairs created cozy conversation areas, while the artwork of nymphs and clouds added style and personified the Victorian era.
"The entire inn is furnished with Empire and Renaissance revival antiques," the Victorian hostess said. "There are fourteen suites, all with luxury bathrooms with antique Victorian claw-footed tubs and Jacuzzis."
"It's absolutely breathtaking." Sophie envisioned ladies outfitted in their long dresses sipping afternoon tea and sharing idle chitchat.
By the time they left the inn and walked to Congress Street, a spring thunderstorm brewed on the horizon, and Sophie's head overflowed with ideas for decorating her house, all of which she'd have to discuss with Maddie.
"Now, for dinner." Lance opened the door of the East Cafe, and they rushed inside just as the first drops of rain splashed against the windowpanes. Sophie was immediately charmed by the Southern atmosphere and a guitar player serenading the guests beneath an ivy-covered trellis.
"Lance, this is too much," she whispered.
They followed the maitre d' to a candlelit table in the corner. "So am I digging my way out of the hole I got myself into?"
Sophie laughed at the teasing in his eyes. "You're above ground."
He chuckled and they claimed seats, the romantic atmosphere charged with the building chemistry brewing between them. Lance ordered a bottle of chardonnay while they studied the menu, each choosing one of the house specialties. Then Lance lifted his glass for a toast. "To date one. The beginning of six nights together."
A tear pressed against Sophie's eyelids. She sincerely hoped it was the beginning of a lot more.
* * *
Reid had one hand on Lucy's panties, ready to strip them and finally feel her naked flesh from head to toe, when a loud clap of thunder rent the air and rain burst from the sky. Lucy laughed and they both scrambled up, grabbing clothes and picnic supplies as they raced toward the car. Lucy clutched her halter top in front of her, her pants in the other hand, her breasts jiggling while she ran through the rain. Reid carried the picnic basket and wine, trying to cover her with the blanket at the same time, grateful no one had moved into the new development yet. He'd hate to get caught with his pants down.
Seconds later they fell into the front seat of her small rental car. She managed to grab the basket and stick it in the backseat while he pushed aside several packages from the passenger side. Apparently Lucy had been on a shopping spree. She poured them both another glass
of wine while he examined the contents of the lingerie bag. He found racy black thongs, one of which even had a red zipper. Wow! He wanted to see Lucy wearing that later... then take it off. The hard edge of a book poked him in the crotch. He jerked it from the seat and sighed in sweet relief. Then his gaze fell to the title: Charms, Talismans, Spells, and Voodoo.
"You don't believe in this stuff, do you?" He quirked an eyebrow toward Lucy.
Panic brightened Lucy's eyes for a second; then she reached for the book. "It's entertaining."
He held the book away from her, teasing, then flipped open the pages. "You really think mixing roots and berries and chanting will improve your love life?"
She winced, looking suddenly vulnerable. "Give it to me, Reid."
"Ahh, sugar, you sure as hell don't need this garbage." He nuzzled her neck. "You're an incredibly sexy woman as it is. You've had me in knots ever since I laid eyes on you."
Lucy laughed softly, playing kissy with his fingers while she attempted to pry the book from his hand.
He turned her hand into his palm and sucked at her skin. "Maybe I should read further...."
She rubbed her breasts against him, sidetracking him, and managed to extricate the book from his fingers, but a scrap of paper fell from inside and fluttered to the floor. He bent to reach for it at the same time she did and their heads collided. His arm was longer, though, so he snagged it first.
"Let's see, did you cast a spell on me? Is that why I've been so infatuated with you?"
She laughed and lunged for the note again, but he narrowed in on the scribbled words and frowned. Lance's name appeared in the spell.
"What is this, Lucy?"
She twisted her hands together. "It's sort of a love potion."
To make Lance fall for Sophie? Well, he had asked for her help.
He skimmed the spell and realized it wasn't a love potion at all, but some kind of spell she'd concocted to free Sophie from Lance.
"You're trying to keep them apart?"
She was tying her halter top back around her neck now, her breasts jiggling for attention.