by Peggy Webb
Her car seemed a million miles away, but she was finally inside. While the engine was warming up, she turned and looked down the road. There was no sign of Tanner. Not even a lingering puff of dust marked his departure.
Putting her car into gear, she headed home.
“Out of sight, out of mind,” she said aloud, but even as she spoke, she knew she was lying.
CHAPTER TWO
Amanda could hear the music all the way out in the parking lot— White Christmas played by Greenville’s Jazz Combo with more enthusiasm and optimism than skill. Smiling, she locked her car and started toward the clubhouse alone. Her escort for the evening, Walter Cummings, had called the night before with fever, a hacking cough, and profuse apologies.
It was just as well, she decided. Since the previous day’s encounter with Tanner Donovan, she’d been poor company for everybody. Her Friday night bridge party had been a disaster. She and Maxine had been set twice because of her crazy bidding. Once she’d bid four hearts with nothing in her hand except the queen and a jack—and all because she was thinking of the way Tanner Donovan’s pants fit. She wondered if five years of deprivation had warped her mind.
She wasn’t going to dwell on it.
Holding her head high in what she hoped was an elegant manner, she pushed open the door and entered the Greenville Country Club.
Amanda’s entrance caused a stir. Though others, including Tanner, called her a head-turning beauty, she knew it wasn’t her looks that had people in a dither. Nor was it her dress—a twenties-style ivory satin gown that clung to her body like a lover. It was the anticipation. Greenville residents, who could remember the way Tanner Donovan had raged when Amanda Lassiter walked down the aisle with his best friend, wondered what would happen with the two of them in the same room all evening.
They weren’t long in finding out.
Amanda had barely cleared the doorway when she saw him coming. She felt a melting warmth all the way down to her toes. In a tuxedo, Tanner could be declared illegal. Broad-shouldered, slim-hipped, solid, and well toned, he was unmistakably an athlete. A delectable one. As she watched him move, a bright memory flashed through her mind—Tanner lying beside her on the riverbank, sunlight gilding the dark hairs that shadowed his sweat-slick chest, his blue jeans riding low on his narrow hips.
Her throat constricted and her palms dampened, but she couldn’t turn away. She had a strange premonition that this encounter had been arranged by fate.
She tipped her chin in what Maxine called her stubborn look, then smiled.
“If that smile’s designed to make me forget every other woman in this room, then you’ve succeeded.” Tanner had stopped so close beside her that she could count the fine laugh lines fanning out from his eyes.
“I don’t wear the smile by design. It’s just my natural good humor.”
She loved the way his eyes lit up when he laughed.
“Did anybody ever tell you modesty is a virtue?” he asked.
“They did, but I never believed them.”
“Neither did I.”
His gaze raked over her boldly. She could feel his eyes on her, like hands searching, touching, caressing. They lingered over her cleavage and, moving upward, hungrily studied her lips. Her body’s response was instantaneous. As if it had been only yesterday since they’d loved, she felt her nipples tighten against the revealing satin of her gown.
He noticed. She could tell by the daredevil gleam in his eyes and the slight lifting of one cocky eyebrow.
“Am I disturbing you, Amanda?” he asked.
She wanted to shoot him.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“You disturb me.” Reaching out, he gently lifted a strand of her copper hair and let it sift through his fingers. She stood still, afraid that any move she made would be straight into his arms. “As a matter of fact, you ruined a good night’s sleep for me last night. I think you owe me for that.”
“I thought we settled our debts yesterday.”
“That was mine. This one is yours.”
“I don’t think they serve hot chocolate here. Will a glass of wine do?”
“I was thinking of something more substantial.”
The hand that had been holding her hair dropped onto her shoulder and drifted down her back, tracing the deep vee of her dress all the way to her waist. She was determined that he not see how his touch affected her.
She was the one who had left him; she was the one who had chosen a safe marriage with a good man instead of the frenzied competition with pro football for Tanner’s affection; she was the one who had come between two best friends. She was also the one who had borne the burden of guilt. But she’d carried the load long enough. It was time to put Tanner Donovan behind her, once and for all.
“I’m substantial but not available.”
He chuckled. “I think you are, and I intend to find out.”
She looked directly into his eyes and smiled. “And I intend that you don’t.”
“So much the better. I love a good pursuit.”
She laughed. “I don’t plan to run. Running away is not my style.”
“I remember your style, Mandy. I remember it so well.”
The steam practically rose between them as their gazes clashed. She was the first to break the spell.
“Why, Tanner? Why pursue me when you could have any woman in town?”
“I don’t want any woman in town. I want you.”
“For old times’ sake?”
“No.” His arm snaked out and pulled her solidly against his chest. Tipping her head back with one finger, he bent so close that their lips were almost touching. “Make no mistake, Amanda. This is not love. I stopped loving you a long time ago.”
“And I you.”
She could scarcely breathe or speak as realization slammed into her. A part of her still loved Tanner. The truth shook her to the core. She’d married Claude, had lived with him for six years, had loved him. But all the while something deep in her soul had never forgotten the wild, wanton love of Tanner Donovan. She fought against the truth, tried to shut it out of her mind, but how could she deny it when she was back in his arms and being there felt like heaven?
He would never know, she vowed. No one would ever know.
“Tell me, Tanner, if this pursuit is not motivated by love, what is the motivation? Lust? Revenge?”
“Catharsis.” His arms tightened around her. “You’ve been a fever in my blood for eleven years. I’ve decided that the only way to purge you from my system is to bed you . . . one more time.”
“Only once?”
He grinned. “You always were greedy.”
“And you always were arrogant.” She put her hand on his chest and shoved. For all the effect her attempt to push him away had, she might as well have been a snowflake battering a mountain.
“I take what I want. And I want you.”
He took her mouth swiftly, greedily, without tenderness and without love. It was not so much a kiss as an assault. His lips were hard on hers, demanding, expert.
Not even for a second did Amanda consider struggling against him. His arms were like steel. Nor did she give a moment’s thought to their audience. She and Tanner seemed fated to make public scenes.
She did give thought to the kiss, however. It was passionate, persuasive, dangerous, and it threatened to topple her defenses. She could feel the rush of liquid warmth between her thighs, the fierce yearning and soft yielding of her body. Another moment with his lips on hers and she would be lost.
Her only defense would be to meet fire with fire. She slid her hands under his tuxedo jacket and began a slow, erotic circling on his back. The power behind the kiss shifted subtly as she boldly plunged her tongue into Tanner’s mouth.
His reaction was immediate. She felt, rather than heard, the moan deep in his throat, and then he was devouring her, feasting on her as if he would never let go.
They were caught in a time warp. They might have been
high-school sweethearts again, young, idealistic, and very much in love—but they were not. They were two battle-scarred people, eleven years older and eleven years more cynical.
Tanner lifted his head and held her at arm’s distance.
“I’d forgotten how well you kiss.”
“That was just a sample. Something to lead you on.”
“You make a fine quarry, Amanda. I’m going to enjoy the hunt.”
“I’d be careful if I were you, Tanner. Sometimes the hunter ends up the hunted.”
“And what are your intentions if you catch me?”
“Certainly not to bed you. But dishonorable nonetheless.”
He grinned. “You always were an unpredictable woman. I can hardly wait.”
“Don’t hold your breath. I’ve provided all the fun I intend to for one evening.”
“Does that mean you’re turning down my offer of a warm bed and a willing body?”
“Precisely.”
“Then I’ll have to find a substitute.” Releasing her, he gave a smart salute. “Have a good evening, Miss Lassiter.”
“You, too, Mr. Donovan.”
She stood there smiling, watching him walk away. Not by one twitch of an eyelash would she show that there was a cyclone raging inside her. She wouldn’t run and she wouldn’t flinch. She would stand firm against all his assaults, and she would win.
“What in the name of tarnation was that all about?”
Amanda turned to see Maxine standing at her elbow, her face shining with anticipation.
Maxine loved being the first one to hear a juicy story, but more than that she adored being the one to witness it. She had been standing near the punch table with a good view of everything that had happened between Tanner and Amanda, and she’d stepped on the feet of two people in her haste to be the first one to get to the source.
“You saw?”
“‘Me and everybody else in Greenville. Good lord! I thought he was going to make love to you right here in the Country Club.”
“That’s his avowed intention, but I doubt that even he is bold enough to do it in public.”
“Some women have all the luck.” Then, remembering their conversation at the shop, she gave Amanda a quizzical look. “I thought you weren’t planning to renew an old romance.”
“I’m not. It’s just a game we’re playing.”
“Some game! I’d love to be the winner. Shoot, I’d even love to be the loser.” She sighed dramatically. “That man looks good enough to eat. He’s a big old juicy steak, just waiting for some woman to bite in. Lord, he makes Wilford look like black-eyed peas.”
Amanda laughed. “And where is the lucky Wilford Trentwell?”
“Hiding in the men’s room, trying to get up enough courage to propose again.”
“He proposed?”
“On the way over. I turned him down. Thought I might have a shot at Tanner Donovan, but it looks like I was wrong.”
Amanda lost track of what Maxine was saying as she caught a glimpse of Tanner. He had wasted no time in finding another woman. He had Evelyn Jo Goff in a tight huddle on the dance floor. A blaze of jealousy coursed through her, and she wondered if he’d already found his substitute.
“Yes. I was definitely wrong.” Maxine spoke loud enough to make Amanda jump.
“What?”
Maxine patted her frizzy blond hair, then reached over to pat Amanda’s arm.
“I said, ‘Here comes Wilford.’ And since I’ve already got him hooked and am probably going to say yes just because I can’t stand this unholy state of unmatrimony, I’m going to be generous and let you have the first dance with him. Bring him back to me in one piece.”
“Thanks. You’re a real friend, Maxine.”
“I know.” When Wilford came within grabbing distance, she took his arm and thrust him toward Amanda. “Do me a favor, sweet pea, and dance with Amanda. Believe me, it’s the only chance you’ll get, because she’ll be mobbed as soon as she gets out on the dance floor.”
“It will be my pleasure.” Wilford adjusted his glasses and swung Amanda into his arms. He held her carefully, like a Dresden doll, guiding her across the crowded floor, dancing with more enthusiasm than expertise.
o0o
Tanner saw them coming. As a matter of fact, he’d watched every move Amanda had made since she’d entered the room. Even after he’d walked away from her, pretending not to care, he’d watched her. When she’d thrown back her head, laughing in that full-throated, uninhibited way she had, he’d been jealous that he hadn’t been the cause of her joy.
The day before, he’d believed he could drive away and forget her, but he’d been wrong. She was still a fever in his blood, and he had to have her, even if it meant making a complete spectacle of himself in his hometown. That would certainly be nothing new. Shifting Evelyn Jo to get a better view of Amanda, he chuckled.
“What’s so funny, Tannah?” Evelyn Jo’s exaggerated accent was so thick, he could almost see it dripping from her mouth. If she hadn’t been such a good sport, he would have regretted his hasty choice of a substitute.
“I was just thinking how good it is to be home for Christmas, Evelyn Jo.” Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Amanda had changed dance partners already. Good. He didn’t want one man to have his hands on her too long.
“We’ah always so dehlighted to have you home.”
“Tell me, Evelyn Jo, is Riverside Church having its annual Christmas cantata tomorrow night?”
“What a strange thing to be askin’.”
“I like to sing.” Amanda and her partner were dancing so close to them now that he could smell her perfume. She used to put her fragrance on every pulse point of her body. He remembered what fun he’d had tracing the scent and kissing every spot. He felt a sudden jealous urge to toss her partner out the window.
“I remembah. You have a beautiful baritone voice. Of course, they are. It’s tradition, you know.”
Now, what the hell was Evelyn Jo babbling about? he wondered. Then he remembered.
“Amanda always used to sing the lead soprano part,” he said casually. “Now that she’s back in town, I don’t suppose she’s singing at Riverside again.”
“Why, as a mattah of fact, she is. She’s doin’ that part tomorrah. It made old Corinne Luckett madder than hell, if you’ll pardon the expression. She fancies herself the best voice in the Delta. The rest of us are tickled to death to have Amanda back. We’ah tired of Corinne’s screechin’.”
Tanner threw back his head and roared. One of the things he missed most about living in Dallas was the small-town intrigue. As he laughed, he caught Amanda staring at him. He winked. She merely arched her eyebrows and danced on by.
“I think Riverside is going to have a new voice in its choir tomorrow.”
“Why, Tannah. You don’t even know the music.”
“I’m a quick study. Especially with a good teacher like you.”
Evelyn Jo laughed. “I can take a hint, Tannah Donovan. But if you dare tell anybody you spent the night at my house practicin’ for the church choir, I’ll call you the biggest liah in the Delta.”
“Evelyn Jo, you can tell them anything you want, and I’ll vow and declare it’s true.”
“Then get ready to have your reputation enhanced, Tannah Donovan.”
Leaning down, he kissed her cheek. It gave him wicked pleasure to see that Amanda shot him a murderous look.
“You’re a real sport, Evelyn Jo.”
“I’m also dyin’ to get my hot little hands on that ex-husband of mine. Would you mind dancin’ that way and sort of droppin’ me off? Dancin’ with you, I think I’ve made him jealous enough to rouse his interest.”
“Why, Evelyn Jo. I do believe you’re a devious woman.”
“No more devious than you, Tannah. Everbody heah saw the way you kissed Amanda.”
He grinned. “I never did learn to be subtle.” He maneuvered them across the floor and released her. “Save the last dance f
or me.”
Evelyn Jo winked. “It’s a date, you big gorgeous hunk of man.”
She blew him a kiss, then put a special hitch in her size-twelve hips as she walked toward her ex-husband.
Tanner turned swiftly back to the dance floor, his gaze searching out Amanda. She was near the French doors that led to the courtyard, being held much too close by her third dance partner. Being in the same room with her this long and not holding her again would be negligent, stupid, and downright sinful, Tanner decided as he strode toward her.
He loved the way her eyes widened when he tapped her partner on the shoulder.
“Do you mind if I cut in?”
After Amanda had been relinquished to him, he pulled her close and leaned down to whisper, “Do you think we’ll get arrested for what we’ve been doing?”
“And what is that, Tanner?” Her voice was cool and controlled, but he could feel the wild thumping of her heart against his chest.
He pulled back and smiled triumphantly at her. “Making love in public.”
“You’re insane.”
“I saw the way you watched me.”
“I didn’t—”
“Just as I watched you,” he said, interrupting her smoothly. “It was in your eyes, Amanda. The lovemaking. Remember how it used to be?”
“No.” He knew she was lying. The racing of her heart told him so.
“All it took was a look between us, that long gaze that was purely sexual. We did it with our eyes, Mandy. Even sitting in old Mrs. Brensley’s English class. She never knew that Shakespeare could be so erotic.”
“I’ve read that people often romanticize the past, Tanner.”
“Our past doesn’t need romanticizing. It merely needs remembering.”
“Funny you should say that.”
“Why?”
“Aren’t you the man who swore to bed me, but not for old times’ sake?”
“Yes. But I’ll do anything to promote my cause.”
“The nostalgia bit won’t work.”