by Nan Dixon
Gray, Abby’s fiancé, joined him. “I got through the Carleton House bid. Looks great.”
“Good.” He and Pop had gone through it one more time before sending it off. “The carriage-house work is picking up.”
“I walked through the place before the girls corralled me into setting up for the wedding.” Gray tipped his tumbler at Daniel. “I can’t wait for the walls to go up.”
“Next week.”
The three sisters rushed over, laughing. Their reddish-gold hair lit the room better than the chandeliers.
“No talking business.” Abby tugged Gray toward the dance floor. “Bess, grab Daniel and make him dance.”
Daniel shook his head. Dancing with Bess would be like grabbing hold of a live wire. Stupid.
“Go on.” Dolley gave him a push. “You haven’t danced. There aren’t many eligible guys around.”
“You can’t keep up with me.” Bess wiggled her hips. “You’re too old.”
“Old?” He knocked back the rest of his whiskey and shook his head as the liquor burned a path to his stomach. He caught her hand. “Let’s see your moves, kid.”
Bess shimmied to the music as they joined other couples on the dance floor. She was willowy and gorgeous. And when she moved, her dress tightened against her breasts. Breasts that reminded him of one insane night.
The music shifted to a jazzy slow wail. He wasn’t about to hold Bess in his arms. He turned to leave the floor.
“Come on.” She caught his hand. Her hazel eyes sparkled with gold in the ballroom’s dim light. “You boasted you could be around me for an entire evening.”
He should run. Instead he stepped close and her hands slid around his neck. Like a jigsaw puzzle, her curves fit his angles.
He sucked in the heady scents of lemon, flowers and earth. This was a mistake, but he couldn’t pull away.
They were too close for a friendly dance. Close enough for him to feel her nipples, hard and firm under her dress. His leg slipped between hers.
She looked at him through half-closed eyes. “I hate you, you know.”
He exhaled. “I know.”
He didn’t want her to hate him. They’d just—made a mess of things ten years ago. Hell, he’d been in college. She’d only been seventeen.
The memory had his arousal easing off.
Ten years ago, he’d been grieving. Bess had caught him at Dora’s and invited him to a party, and they’d both gotten drunk.
After their disastrous night, he’d limited himself to two drinks in an evening.
The music ended and he cupped an arm under her elbow and led her off the floor.
“Dancing with me didn’t kill you, did it?” she teased.
Almost. “No.”
She reached for another full flute.
“Maybe you should slow down,” he suggested.
Her eyes shot green fire at him and she drained half the glass. “It’s my mother’s wedding.”
“Bess.”
She waved wildly and smacked his shoulder. “There’s Nathan.”
“He’s been here all night.” Daniel had kept his distance from his twin. Life was easier with Nathan in Atlanta.
“Hey, baby brother.” Nathan slung his arm over Bess’s shoulder.
Bess laughed. “You’re twins.”
“But I—” Nathan sketched a drunken bow “—am five minutes older. And a better dancer.”
Nathan shoved his drink at Daniel and pulled Bess onto the dance floor.
Bess and Nathan bumped, wiggled and twirled. Daniel hated watching them together.
He sipped the whiskey Nathan had handed him. Maybe drinking would make the night end.
* * *
BESS WAS PRETTY close to drunk. Yup. Her lips were tingly and she couldn’t stop smiling. Maybe Daniel was right. Maybe she should stop. She carefully set the champagne flute down. For once, she didn’t have to clean the ballroom. She spun, her hands in the air.
“Whoa there, little girl.” Samuel Forester caught her arm. “You’re making me dizzy.”
“My mamma got married.”
“I know.” Samuel chuckled. “I saw them.”
She let him lead her near the door.
“Daniel,” Samuel called.
Bess pouted. After dancing, Daniel had ignored her. Whenever Nathan danced with her, Daniel glared at them. She swore he’d looked hurt when she’d told him she hated him.
Naw. That would imply he had a heart.
“What do you need, Pop?” Daniel said.
“Are you heading back to your apartment?” Samuel said.
Daniel didn’t live in an apartment. His dad knew that. Bess stared at Daniel’s deep blue-and-purple tie. She liked the colors. And it looked perfect with his gray suit.
“Bess?” Daniel said loudly. “Are you staying here?”
“We’re all full up. Wedding guests are tucked in every room.”
The Forester men whispered.
“Can you drive?” Samuel asked her.
“Oh, no. I’m walking home.” She shook her head. “Nope, nope. Not safe to drive.”
“We know,” Daniel said. “And no, I’m not driving, either. I’ll walk her back and catch a cab home.”
Samuel gave her a hug. “Take aspirin before you head to bed tonight.”
As Samuel walked away, she saluted. “Aye, aye, sir.”
“Where are your shoes?” Daniel asked.
She looked at her feet and wiggled her glittery toes. “I don’t know.”
Daniel propped her against the wall. Other than the servers and cleaners, they were the last two people in the room.
“These yours?” Daniel held her pretty high heels.
She grinned. He was so darn handsome. Why did she hate him? “Those are mine. They sparkle.”
“Just like you.” He handed them to her.
She hooked her fingers into the straps. “I sparkle?”
“Yes.” He pointed to her shoes. “You need to wear them.”
She wrinkled her nose. “My feet hurt.”
He tugged her to the elevator. “Before we head out to the street, you need to put them on.”
She scowled. “Okay.”
He stopped at the kitchen door and knelt at her feet. “Shoes.”
“My prince,” she giggled. She put her hand on top of Daniel’s head and slipped her feet into her shoes. “Ouch.”
“Toughen up, Fitzgerald.” He guided her outside into her gardens.
She inhaled deeply. “I love the smell.”
“It smells like you,” he said.
Twirling again, she tipped her head back. “I love my gardens.”
She was dizzy by the time he took her arm. “Time to get you to bed.”
“Oh, promises, promises.”
The arm he’d slipped around her waist tightened. “Come on.”
Why couldn’t he be nice like this all the time?
Her heels clacked on the sidewalk. “It’s quiet.”
“It’s almost one thirty.”
She leaned into his chest and inhaled. She’d know his woody scent in the dark. “I didn’t think Savannah slept.”
His laugh rumbled under her cheek. “I think that’s New York.”
She hummed “New York, New York” as they walked another block. They cut through Columbia Square. She stumbled on the uneven pavement, pain zinging through her toes.
His fingers tightened around her waist.
She had to get these shoes off—now. She bent down.
He pulled her up. “You can’t walk barefoot.”
She stamped her foot. “Ow, ow, ow.”
She kicked the heels off and hopped to the fountain, ste
pping over the edge.
“What are you doing?” He glared, pointing at her shoes.
“Cooling my feet.” She kicked in the water and pointed at him. “Mamma said if we frowned, our faces would freeze like that.”
“Right.” He reached for her. “Out of there.”
She grabbed his hand with both of hers, but slipped backward.
Daniel stumbled forward under her weight. His shin smacked the fountain’s brick edge.
She let go of him and grabbed the ledge.
His body kept moving. He did a shuffle step a dancer would be proud to have in their repertoire, boogying too close to the fountain wall.
He was going to face-plant into the fountain.
She reached for him.
He rolled, his feet splashing into the water. Slumping on the fountain’s edge, he stared at his shoes.
“Oh, gracious.” Her hand covered her mouth.
Daniel cursed.
“I...I didn’t mean to pull you in with your shoes on.” She giggled.
“Damn it, Bess.” He stood, his lips set in a solid grim line.
“Daniel.” She backed up but didn’t move fast enough.
The world spun, and he threw her over his shoulder.
Her breath whooshed out. “Hey!”
“You’re going home.” He crouched and swept up her shoes.
“Put me down.” She wiggled and squirmed. When he didn’t stop walking, she pounded his back.
“Cut it out.”
Her stomach gurgled. “I don’t want to be sick.”
He swore again, but stopped. Sliding her body over his shoulder, he cradled her against his chest. “When will you think before you act?”
“When you learn to lighten up.” There wasn’t any heat behind her words.
He stared down at her. “I’m an adult.”
She smiled. “The water felt wonderful.”
He sighed. His shoes made squishing sounds as he carried her.
“I’m sorry you got wet.”
He grunted.
She looked at his chin. It was such a nice chin. And his lips were full and firm. He probably kissed even better than he had ten years ago. She touched his dimple. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you doing, Fitzgerald?” His voice was deeper than normal.
“Apologizing.” She sighed.
He lifted her higher and his hand pressed against her breast. “Sorry.”
“S’okay.” She kicked her feet. Had a guy ever carried her anywhere? She burrowed in closer. “Am I too heavy?”
He grunted again.
She leaned her head back to look at the Spanish moss in the trees. “I think Savannah wouldn’t be Savannah without the moss. And the flowers.”
“Savannah wouldn’t be Savannah without the architecture.”
“Spoken like a man who builds things.”
He juggled her body and opened the door. As he climbed the stairs, his breath came out in pants. He set her down in front of her door. “You had to pick the third floor.”
She waited for him to open the door. And waited.
“Key?” he asked.
She blinked. “My keys are at Abby’s.”
Daniel banged his head against the door.
“Don’t.” She grabbed his shoulders. She’d touched him more tonight than she had in the last ten years.
“Wait.” He dug his keys out of his pocket.
“You label your keys.” She stared at his key ring. Who did that? “With a label maker.”
“Be glad. This way I don’t have to search.”
He unlocked her door and pushed it open.
“My hero.” She fluttered her eyelashes. Since he’d carried her like Rhett Butler, she could give him a little Scarlett.
“Yeah, yeah. Get in there.” He pulled her inside and the door clicked behind her.
“No, really.” She took his hands, serious now. “Thank you for seeing me home.”
There was something hypnotic about his brown eyes. It was the gold flecks she only saw when she stood so close they shared the same air.
He slid his hands up to her shoulders. “Not a problem.”
She couldn’t rip her gaze away. When he stared at her mouth, her tongue touched her upper lip. A shiver raced through her body.
“Daniel?”
He stepped closer—or she did. The gold in his eyes darkened and disappeared.
She stood on her aching toes and kissed him.
CHAPTER THREE
After women, flowers are the most lovely thing God has given the world.
Christian Dior
DANIEL KISSED BESS BACK. She tasted of champagne and cake. He wanted to get closer—much, much closer.
He spun and backed her against the door. She hopped up and wrapped her long slim legs around his waist.
“Yes.” She fused their mouths together.
Her lemony perfume enticed him to do things he shouldn’t. Kissing Bess was irresponsible, but he couldn’t stop. Pins clinked on the floor as he freed her hair. He buried his fingers in her coppery curls and meshed their mouths together, sucking at her sweet tongue. Her firm breasts were magnets for his hands and mouth, but her bra thwarted him.
“Pull me away from the door,” she begged.
He did.
Bess unsnapped her bra and flung it aside. She rolled her hips against his. “Oh, that feels good.”
His erection ignored the voice in his head shouting stop. He anchored her against the door with his hips and one hand.
“Touch me.” She grabbed his free hand and placed it on her breast.
They were spinning out of control. He had Bess up against a door. Bess. He hadn’t had so much to drink that he couldn’t recognize a bad idea when it hit him like a two-by-four. She hated him.
Instead of stopping, he lifted her higher, sucking a tight nipple into his mouth. It tasted tangy just like her.
“Yes.” She arched back and her head thunked against the wood.
Supporting her with a forearm, he freed his hand and pinched her other nipple. The skirt of her dress rolled up to her waist. He shifted and their groins rubbed together.
Her fingers dived into his hair, holding him in place. Sweet, tortured sounds rumbled in her chest.
He switched from one breast to the other. There were reasons he stayed away from Bess, good reasons, but he couldn’t remember a single one. He wanted to take her right here in the doorway.
Bess ran her teeth along his ear. “You’re overdressed.”
Heat streamed through him. He let her body slide partway down his. “We can fix that.” His voice sounded as if he’d swallowed gravel.
Her fingers worked on his tie. She tugged and it went flying. She pushed off his jacket as he juggled her body and worked his shirt buttons free.
His fingers ran up her thigh, brushing against a tiny slip of silk. His erection surged. He could push the silk aside and be in her in a slick second, but he was missing something. “Condom.”
Her head jerked up. “Bedroom.”
They stumbled down the hallway, his hands cradling her butt, her legs wrapped around his hips.
Clothes covered the bed. He dropped her in the middle and followed her down. His only goal was getting inside her hot body.
“Unzip me.” She rolled to her side. “Please.”
Daniel found the tab and dragged it down, kissing every inch of the lemony skin he uncovered. By the time he’d tugged the zip free, Bess squirmed under his lips.
He backed away. She wiggled out of the dress and the slip of yellow between her legs.
The last time they’d been together, he’d been drunk. Not drunk enough to keep him from perf
orming—poorly—but enough to forget most of the details. No way would he forget tonight.
She hopped on the bed. “Get your clothes off. You’re behind.”
She pushed his shirt off his chest, imprisoning his arms.
“I can’t get my pants off like this,” he complained.
“Let me.” She tugged on his belt buckle, flipped the fly button open and ran the zipper over his straining erection. Her fingers reached in, wrapping around him like a vise.
His groan echoed in the dark room. He needed to take control or this would be over too soon. There was a rip and his shirt loosened enough to get one hand out.
He kissed her, rolling her underneath him. He was in charge now.
“Hey.”
He pushed off his wet pants and underwear, everything tangling on his soggy shoes. He scrambled off the bed, sliding to the floor in a tangled heap. “Find a condom,” he called up, separating his pants from his wet shoes.
A drawer screeched. Foil crinkled.
He vaulted back onto the bed, snatched the condom from her fingers and sheathed himself.
She cradled him between her legs.
Their lips came together in a deep, penetrating kiss. His hands wrapped around her hips, tugging her up. She guided him inside and he slid home.
Sparks flashed behind his closed eyelids. His breath bellowed. He heard her small moans. Their bodies fit together like a dovetail joint. Perfect.
“You feel...amazing.” Too amazing. He couldn’t slow down, sliding faster and faster in and out of her incredible body. Panic built as his control slipped. Each thrust drove him to the edge of madness.
“Ooh.” Bess tilted her hips, wrapping a leg around him. “I’m so close.”
He slid deeper, unable to stop. Before he lost his last shred of control, he had to give her a release. Gritting his teeth, he reached between them and touched her.
She drove against him, her green eyes locked on his. Her fingers clawed his back and she came apart.
Her scream took him over the edge. He closed his eyes, slamming home once more, and the bed bounced against the wall. His arms shook as her body squeezed around him.
He collapsed. Their chests rose and fell together in air-sucking gasps.
It had never been like this. Only one other time had he been so out of control...and so satisfied. It had been with Bess. That time, he hadn’t waited for her orgasm.