by Peggy Webb
“Then I’ll have to try something else.”
He maneuvered smoothly around the dancing couples and through the French doors. Still holding her close, he danced her across the moonlit patio until they were standing under the stone archway that led to the rose garden. One hardy, late-blooming rose sent its fragile fragrance to them on the chill December air.
Without thinking of the consequences, or even caring, Tanner bent down and captured her lips with his. The moment he touched that sweet flesh, he was lost. Gone were his intentions of taking what he wanted without feeling. Forgotten was his resolve to purge his mind and his soul by thoughtless coupling. The woman he held was special. No other woman, before or after Amanda, had ever kissed the way she did. Her spirit was in the kiss, a joyful, exuberant spirit that reached out and touched his very soul.
Against all his carefully laid plans, Tanner found himself kissing her with tenderness and feeling. A thousand remembered kisses replayed themselves as they stood under the pale winter moon. He felt her hands steal around his neck and lace through his hair. He felt the subtle shifting of her hips as they fitted themselves against his in the well-remembered way that used to make him lose all track of time. As the kiss deepened, he was caught up in the rhythmic way she moved against him.
He knew that she was lost, too. She could be his for the taking. Soon. Perhaps tonight. He could sense it. Instead of triumph, he felt a strange sort of sadness. Silently cursing himself for a fool, he broke the embrace.
“Now I know, Amanda.”
Even in the dim light of the moon he could see the flush on her cheeks. It was disturbingly appealing.
“Know what, Tanner?”
“What works with you.” Leaning casually against the stone archway, he studied her. “You like to be dominated.”
His words had the calculated effect. She went from flushed uncertainty to towering rage.
“You’re an arrogant, frivolous playboy, Tanner Donovan, and I thank my lucky stars that I jilted you.”
“You’re magnificent when you’re angry. You bring the same passion to your rages that you do to your bed.”
“Is that all you think about?”
“Yes. My needs are very elemental. A little food, adequate shelter, plenty of sex, and I’m a happy man.”
“I’m glad I married Claude. Lord, I’d hate to think what life with you would have been like.”
“Fun.” He rammed his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out and dragging her back into his arms. “By the way, if you’re so glad you married Claude, why did you leave him?”
“It had nothing to do with you.”
He wondered if she were lying and what difference it would make.
“I think it’s a habit you have, Amanda—loving and leaving. But this time it’ll be different. I’m the one who will do the leaving.”
He turned away from her quickly, before he could change his mind. And as he left her there on the moon-washed patio, he wondered if her words were prophetic. Would the hunter become the hunted?
CHAPTER THREE
Amanda was late, and it was all Tanner’s fault. If it hadn’t been for him, she’d have gotten a decent night’s rest; then she wouldn’t have fallen asleep on her sofa in the afternoon.
She parked her car and headed toward the Riverside Church. The choir room was empty when she arrived. Grabbing her robe off its hook, she hastily slipped it over her dress and started for the choir loft. The rest of the members were assembled in the hall, waiting to go inside the sanctuary.
Still fumbling with her collar, she picked her way through the crowd. “Excuse me,” she said as she edged around a very tall man.
“Do you need any help with that?”
She jerked her head up and looked into the twinkling eyes of Tanner Donovan.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was planning to sing . . . unless you have something else in mind.”
What she had in mind couldn’t be discussed in church. She still could feel the bruising crush of his lips on hers. Just looking at him made her want more, but she’d never let him know it.
“Behave yourself. You’re in church.”
“I was always naughty in church.” He reached up and straightened her collar, letting his hand linger on the nape of her neck. “You did know how to dress in a hurry, Amanda.”
She felt a quick rush of heat through her body. If she didn’t get away from him soon, she’d be doing things in the back of the church that would be fodder for another Donovan-Lassiter legend. Striving to get herself in the proper frame of mind, she stepped back.
“Unhand me, unless you plan to follow me to the front and sing soprano.”
“No. I prefer to sit behind you, so I can enjoy the view.”
She couldn’t think of a feisty comeback; her mind was too busy cataloging the wicked charms of Tanner Donovan. Fortunately the line began to move and she was forced to hurry into place with the sopranos. Otherwise she might have done something that would make even the most liberal-minded Southerners blush.
As she hurried forward she wondered what in the devil Tanner was doing there in a choir robe, and whether he actually intended to sing. She wouldn’t put anything past him. Especially after the previous night. He had a magnificent voice, but he hadn’t been in town long enough to attend a single practice. He had probably come only to sit back there and aggravate her.
Amanda slid into her seat, acutely aware of the moment Tanner sat down directly behind her. As the organ prelude swelled, filling the church with magnificent sound, she knew she was supposed to be thinking exalted thoughts, but the only thing that came to her mind was body heat. Tanner’s body heat. It reached out and seared her.
She was playing a dangerous game with Tanner Donovan, a game that might have no winners. But Fate had dealt the cards, and she would play the hand. Win, lose, or draw, she was in the game for the duration. With that last irreverent thought she turned her attention back to the service. She was here to sing, and nothing would stop her. Not even Tanner Donovan.
Determination always brought out the best in Amanda. From the moment the music started, she was in fine voice. Even when Tanner’s rich baritone voice joined in, hers never faltered. The goose bumps popped up on her arm, as they always had when he sang, but she ignored them. For an instant she wondered how he’d ever learned the cantata, but she didn’t have time to ponder that. Fleetingly she noticed how well their voices blended, but she didn’t have time to think about that, either. Nothing would mar her singing.
She lifted her voice with renewed determination, making the beautiful old Gothic church ring with glorious music.
When it was all over, the congregation flocked to the front to congratulate the choir.
“That was wonderful, Amanda.” Maxine managed to hem her in behind the altar rail with Tanner. “You two perform so well together.” Wilford, who was standing as close to Maxine as he thought prudent in church, nodded his agreement.
“I always thought so.” Tanner moved in close and put his hand on Amanda’s shoulder. To the innocent bystander the gesture was completely harmless. Only she knew that he had his thigh pressing against the back of her choir robe. Nor did she miss the double meaning of his words. She’d lay bets that he wasn’t talking about singing.
Over her shoulder she shot him a look that would have made a lesser man quail. Tanner winked at her.
Maxine’s next words only encouraged him. “The two of you should perform together more often.”
“Those are my intentions,” Tanner said.
“Over my dead body.” Amanda considered murder with a hymnal right there in the church.
Maxine was in her element. She loved controversy, especially when she was right in the middle of it. “I have the most wonderful idea. Wilford and I always go to Jimmy’s for coffee after church. Why don’t you two join us?”
“Great, we’d love to. Jimmy’s is one of our favorite places,” Tanner said.
“No, thank you,” Amanda said at the same time, but nobody paid any attention.
“Good. Then it’s settled. We’ll wait for you to shuck the robes, and we’ll all go in my car. It’s more fun being together, don’t you think?”
Wilford finally managed to get a word in edgewise. “Maxine is such a wonderful manager.”
Amanda decided she would wait until tomorrow to tell Maxine what she was—a dyed-in-the-wool mischief maker.
“Amanda and I will be right back.” Tanner took her arm and steered her toward the choir room. “Are you ready to get undressed, darling?”
She saw that she was trapped. Being cornered always brought out her fighting spirit. She could play the game as well as he. “Certainly. And I do enjoy an audience.”
“Have you ever lacked for one?”
So, she thought, the bold and brash Tanner Donovan wasn’t without feelings. That question smacked of jealousy if she’d ever heard it. She decided to add fuel to the fire.
“Never. I’ve lost count since Claude.”
She saw the fleeting look of rage on his face before he recovered. “Good for you. I love an experienced woman.”
“I thought love didn’t enter into this.”
“It doesn’t. That was a general statement.”
“Good. I’d hate to think you were having second thoughts about this game, just when I’m starting to enjoy it.”
As she pushed open the door and entered the empty choir room, she began to have second thoughts about her own game tactics. Tanner in a crowd was one thing; Tanner alone was quite another. But he was right behind her; it was too late to back out now. She walked quickly across the room, putting as much space between them as possible.
She heard the metallic click of a zipper. Although she knew it was only his choir robe, she had visions of other times when she’d heard that same sound. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered the times she’d turned to find Tanner standing beside her, magnificent in his nakedness.
There was no going back, she reminded herself. All she could do was move ahead. The faster, the better. She needed to put Tanner out of her life. Now was no time for cowardice.
“I always seem to have trouble with zippers.” She turned and walked boldly toward him. “If I remember correctly, you’re an expert with these.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice.” He put his hands on her shoulders and gently brought her closer.
“So I’ve read.” Now it was her turn to hurt. She didn’t like to think of him with other women. She didn’t want any reminders that the hands grasping her so tenderly had done the same thing countless times over the years—but to someone else. She just wouldn’t think about that, she decided. Such thoughts were dangerous.
His hands felt so good. Whenever he had touched her, she had experienced an immediate sense of well-being, as if nothing in the world could harm her as long as Tanner was there. And now, standing in the choir room, that old feeling threatened to overwhelm her again.
In a flash of hindsight she realized that coming here with him had been a mistake, one that she would remedy quickly. She pushed his hands away and stepped back. “I won’t be added to your long list of conquests.”
“I thought you loved an audience.”
“Not this audience.”
“I’m devastated. Perhaps I should get my minister to send you a letter of recommendation.”
“I doubt that a man of your reputation has more than a nodding acquaintance with men of the cloth.”
Tanner laughed. It was a full-bodied, deep-throated sound of pure delight. “Don’t let Paul hear you say that. He’s worked for ten years to tame the hellion in me.”
“If I remember correctly, your older brother was quite a hellion himself.”
He laughed even harder. “I can’t wait to tell him how you remember him. It’ll be good for the Reverend Paul Donovan to hear that.”
Amanda loved getting news about Paul. She’d always liked Tanner’s brothers, especially Paul and Theo, but she was determined not to be sidetracked. “It’s a good thing he has God on his side. And even so, I have my doubts about his taming you.” She put her hands on her hips and gazed at him boldly. “Tanner Donovan, you’re every inch the hellion.”
“I don’t deny that.” With one step he closed the space between them. “Come here, Mandy, love. This hellion is dying to get into your zipper.”
Before she could protest, his hands were on her, the left holding her shoulder while the right slowly lowered her zipper. She’d never known that shedding a choir robe could be such a sensuous experience. His fingers trailed the path of the zipper, brushing across her clothes, lingering intimately over her breasts. She felt the heat of his hand through the silk of her blouse.
She held her breath as the zipper inched downward. He made no move to come closer. He made no attempt to embrace her. The only change was in his eyes. She saw the bright light of passion gleaming in their quicksilver depths.
Willing herself not to respond, she stood very still as he worked his magic. His left hand continued to hold her shoulder, while the right explored her body behind the widening path of the zipper. She felt a tiny bead of nervous perspiration roll between her breasts as the zipper skimmed below her waist.
“You used to love this, Mandy.” Her skirt was no protection from the touch of his fingers. Lazily he was drawing those familiar erotic circles that used to drive her wild.
“Not anymore.” With a supreme effort she controlled her breathing, but there was nothing she could do about the thundering of her heart. She hoped he didn’t hear it in the still of the choir room.
“You still do. I can tell.”
She thought his laughter was positively diabolical.
“You’re a wicked man, Tanner Donovan. I don’t know why I ever fell in love with you.”
He quickly finished opening her robe and slipped it from her shoulders.
“I do. If we weren’t in church, I’d show you.”
“After all these years you’ve developed scruples?”
“Are you disappointed?”
“No. Surprised.” She took the robe from his hand and hung it up. “And relieved.”
“The next time opportunity knocks, we won’t be in a church, Amanda.”
“Lately I’ve become hard of hearing.”
“I’ll see that opportunity knocks loud enough for you to hear.” He lifted her suit jacket from the hook and helped her into it. “Soon, my darling. Very soon.”
For a moment Amanda believed the endearment was real. But only for a moment. Deep down she knew it was only a part of the game.
o0o
Maxine and Wilford were waiting for them in the parking lot. “Hurry, kids,” Maxine yelled. “My chariot awaits.” She swept her arm toward her Volkswagen Beetle.
“Why don’t we take my car?” Amanda suggested. “We’ll be crowded in yours.”
“That’s the general idea.” Maxine grinned. “Climb in the back, kids. Once I get the old rattletrap going, there won’t be much talking. Who needs to talk, anyhow? It’ll be just like old times.”
Too much like old times for comfort, Tanner thought as he helped Amanda into the backseat. Everything was getting to be too much like old times—the way Amanda laughed, the way she kissed, the way she felt in his arms. Something inside him was starting to thaw. He didn’t want to feel mellow toward her; he wanted to punish her. In one move she’d destroyed their future together and forever separated him from his best friend.
He folded himself into the backseat, lifting Amanda onto his lap.
“Is this necessary?”
“My legs are too long. The only way we’ll both fit back here is if you sit on top.” He pulled her comfortably into the curve of his arm. “Does it bother you?”
“No more than it bothers you.”
As Maxine started up her little Beetle and spun out of the parking lot, he had time to consider just how much holding Amanda did bother him. It felt a lot like being in love,
and that wasn’t possible. Not anymore. Not with Amanda.
Over the rattle of the old car Maxine yelled something to Amanda about the shop, and she leaned over the seat to reply. That sudden shift of her bottom on his lap left no doubt in either of their minds about her effect on him. She turned her head and lifted a quizzical eyebrow. Shrugging his shoulders, he smiled.
“Opportunity knocking,” he murmured.
“Tell opportunity it’s not polite to come in without an invitation.”
He chuckled. “Tell invitation not to speak so eloquently.”
She laughed. Listening to the music of her laughter and watching the play of moonlight over her face and hair, he knew that he couldn’t continue the heartless game he was playing. At least not tonight. For this one night only, he was going to forget the past and enjoy the moment.
As Maxine steered her rackety old car into the lot in front of Jimmy’s, Tanner laid down the shield and took off his armor.
“Truce, Mandy.” He spoke softly, for her ears only. “Let’s call the battle off.”
“I’m not sure I can trust you.”
“You can. I promise.”
“For how long?”
“One night only. Tonight.”
He’d always known that good boys got rewards, and her smile was proof.
“Agreed.”
They followed Maxine and Wilford into Jimmy’s to have hot chocolate and talk of ordinary things— football and politics and Christmas and Hong Kong. They discussed world peace and small-town morality. They reminisced over their days at Greenville High, and Tanner even told Wilford of the time he and Claude and Amanda had stolen their biggest rival’s mascot, a billy goat, and smuggled it into the principal’s office. The goat had created such havoc that school had been canceled. Wilford, who was from Chicago, observed that that wasn’t much reason to dismiss school. Maxine explained that he didn’t know the goat, and Tanner assured him that Southerners were unique. It didn’t take much to excite them.
He was thinking mostly of himself when he’d made the remark. He’d been in the finest restaurants in New York, Madrid, Paris, and Hong Kong. But right now, sitting in Jimmy’s watching Amanda, he couldn’t remember when he’d been more excited. He felt as if he’d just carried the ball fifty yards and crossed the goal line.