Seducing Savannah Page 2

  Careful, Savannah, she heard the voice of common sense warn her. This isn’t real. It isn’t safe.

  But that other voice, the reckless one that had encouraged her to dance with Kit in the first place, said, “Forget safe. This is incredible.”

  Very slowly, Kit steadied her, then stepped a few inches away from her. “Have a drink with me?” he asked, his tone again somewhere between a request and a command.

  She had to clear her throat before she could speak coherently. “Yes.”

  He nodded with the air of a man who was accustomed to having his invitations accepted.

  Who was he? Savannah wondered as they made their way back to the table. A high-powered business executive, perhaps? An entertainer? He was certainly good-looking enough. While he looked vaguely familiar, Savannah couldn’t say for certain that she’d ever seen him before.

  As he held her chair for her in an old-fashioned gesture that only further entranced her, she decided she didn’t care about details. Tonight he was her pirate— her fantasy—and she wouldn’t let reality intrude.

  Kit murmured an order to a server, who returned almost immediately carrying glasses of champagne. Kit sent Savannah a rakish smile as he lifted his glass. “Here’s to dancing beneath the stars,” he said.

  She almost sighed. What a memory this evening would make when she returned to the hectic grind of her real life, she thought dreamily. “To fantasies,” she murmured.

  Kit’s dark eyes glinted in the candlelight. He raised his glass to his lips. Savannah sipped her own drink, reveling in the heady effervescence. The expensive champagne tasted the way she felt tonight Frivolous. Bubbly.

  Intoxicating.

  Kit kept his gaze on her face. “Savannah.”

  Even her name sounded exotic when he said it. “Yes?”

  He shook his head slightly. “Nothing. I just like saying your name.”

  Oh, he was good. She could almost feel herself being seduced, right there. She knew she’d have to be careful not to carry the fantasy too. far—-but she wasn’t quite ready to call an end to it just yet.

  The musicians returned to the stage and launched smoothly into the opening notes of “As Time Goes By.”

  “I love this music,” Savannah murmured, feeling as if she’d drifted back to an earlier, more romantic era.

  Kit promptly stood. “Then let’s not waste it,” he said, and held out his hand.

  CHRISTOPHER PACE, known to his friends as Kit, couldn’t stop staring at the woman in his arms. He was having a difficult time deciding what it was about her that had enthralled him since the first time he’d seen her, sitting alone on a beach at this resort that seemed filled with couples.

  She really was beautiful, he mused. Her honeyblond hair had fallen to below her shoulders when he’d seen her before, and was now twisted into a loose knot at the top of her head that looked as though it would take only a brush of his hand to make it come tumbling down. She wasn’t a girl—closer to thirty than twenty, he guessed—but he liked the way her mature curves had filled her tastefully revealing bathing suit, and were now displayed so enticingly by her floating black dress.

  Her face was unlined, complexion close to perfect, and her eyes were a clear, bright blue that seemed very much in keeping with the tropical setting. Her accent was Southern—slow, soft, musical, making him fantasize about warm, lazy days and long, sultry nights.

  Kit had known a lot of beautiful women. He’d discovered at an early age that the beauty on the outside didn’t always represent what lay beneath. He’d learned to value a quick mind, a sharp wit and a kind nature much more than a pretty face and figure. And, from his first impression, Savannah seemed to have all of that.

  But the attractive packaging didn’t hurt, either, he was honest enough to admit to himself.

  The orchestra was playing “Misty” now. Kit rested his cheek lightly against Savannah’s hair and enjoyed the feeling of her moving so sinuously against him. The scent she wore was very light, faintly floral, just enough to tickle his nose and tempt him to bury his face in her throat for a more extensive sampling.

  He had to hand it to his pal, Rafe Dancer, the owner of this island resort. Rafe provided his guests with the best of everything. This new, spectacular dance floor was ringed with fragrant flowers and swaying palms, close enough to the beach for the steady rush of waves to provide an exotic undercurrent to the music being played by the small but excellent orchestra.

  Kit moved with Savannah into a tight turn that caused her breasts to brush against his chest He winced and put a bit more distance between them.

  He was definitely aroused by this woman, Kit realized, amazed at how quickly, and how powerfully the attraction had struck. He’d known from the moment he’d first seen her that he had to meet her, even though he’d come on this impulsive vacation to be alone. He hadn’t been looking for Savannah—but he was very glad that he’d found her.

  He had no intention of letting her slip away until he’d had a chance to explore more fully the heady and extraordinary feelings she evoked in him.

  KIT’S STEPS took on a new intricacy as they grew increasingly comfortable dancing together. Savannah concentrated on following him, which wasn’t particularly difficult since he was so very good.

  “You’re better at this than I am,” she admitted ruefully, smiling up at him.

  His answering grin was a flash of dimples and a gleam of white teeth. “Just hold on tight,” he said suggestively. “We’ve got all night to practice.”

  And then he spun her into several tight turns that made her cling to him and laugh softly. With only a few words of encouragement and the guiding support of his hands, Kit soon had Savannah feeling like Ginger Rogers. She’d never felt freer or happier in her life.

  This was a memory she would treasure forever.

  The musicians took another short break, during which Savannah had another glass of champagne with Kit. He sat very close to her this time, and rested his hand on the back of her chair, so that his fingertips brushed her nape when she moved.

  Each time he touched her, she felt a quiver of awareness race down her spine. Though the ocean breeze that fanned her exposed skin was pleasantly cool, she was growing increasingly warm, the heat sizzling deep inside her.

  It felt good, she decided. A bit frightening, but good.

  She was going to have to be very careful with this man, she thought as they returned to the dance floor.

  After a few upbeat numbers that stretched Savannah’s newfound dance talent to the limits, the orchestra slid into a slower, more leisurely song. Kit pulled Savannah close, sliding both his arms around her waist so that hers had nowhere to go except around his neck. Taking advantage of the opportunity to catch her breath, she rested her cheek against his silk-covered shoulder, barely swaying with him in time to the music.

  “Mmm,” she murmured in pleasure. “I like this number.”

  Kit turned, and she followed effortlessly. “‘I Have Dreamed,’” he whispered against her ear. ‘It’s one of my parents’ favorites. They love to dance.”

  His voice softened when he spoke of his parents, and Savannah found herself even more drawn to him, if that was possible. She wondered a bit wistfully if her parents had ever danced in the moonlight. She couldn’t imagine her straitlaced and repressed mother indulging in such a frivolously romantic evening.

  Savannah decided not to think of her mother just then.

  The few other couples remaining on the dance floor were very quiet, moving dreamily in rhythm to the romantic music. Without pausing between numbers, the musicians began a song Savannah recognized immediately.

  “Star Dust,” she murmured.

  Kit nodded against her hair. “One of my favorites.”

  A man who loved old songs, looked like a movie idol, and danced like Fred Astaire. Was it any wonder Savannah was all but melting in his arms? She couldn’t have imagined a more perfect fantasy.

  Inevitably, it was time for the idyll
to end. “Midnight,” Kit said with a glance at his watch as the musicians left the stage and the waiters began to clear the tables. The other couples were already drifting back to their cozy cabins.

  Savannah swallowed a sigh. The time had flown by so quickly, she thought with a touch of regret. But now it had to end.

  She brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face and smiled at Kit. “It’s been a lovely evening,” she said. “Thank you for making it so special.”

  “I’ll walk you to your room,” he offered immediately.

  She bit her lip. She didn’t want this almost perfect interlude to end with an awkward encounter at her door. If Kit was expecting to spend the rest of the night dancing between her sheets, she would have to disappoint him. As attractive as he was, she simply couldn’t tumble into bed with a handsome stranger she’d known for only one evening.

  No matter how spectacular she sensed it would be.

  He seemed to read her expression. “I don’t expect you to invite me in,” he promised a bit gruffly. “I’d just like to see you safely to your door.”

  Though Savannah had felt perfectly safe ever since she’d arrived at this exclusive resort, she didn’t bother to argue. She merely nodded, deciding to trust Kit to continue to be the gentleman he’d been so far.

  He took her right hand, slipped it beneath his left elbow and held it there in a courtly manner befitting the tone of their magical evening. And then he began to walk down the comfortably lighted path in the direction of the guest cabins, setting a casual pace that Savannah had no trouble matching in her strappy heels.

  The evening air was cool against her flushed skin. The light breeze was heavy with exotic fragrances, reminding her again of how far she was from home. How free she was to enjoy this romantic interlude.

  She was so glad now that she’d dared to be irresponsible and impulsive and self-indulgent for the first time in almost longer than she could remember. She needed this vacation.

  “Will I see you tomorrow?” Kit asked when they reached the door of her cottage.

  She moistened her lips, wondering how she should answer. Maybe it wasn’t wise, but she wanted very badly to spend more time with Kit. The reckless part of her urged her to take advantage of every moment she could have with him. Who knew when—if ever—she would have an opportunity like this again?

  “I’d like that,” she said, fighting uncharacteristic shyness when she met his eyes.

  “Have breakfast with me.”

  Again, it wasn’t a command, yet not quite a request.

  “Please,” he added with one of those dangerous smiles.

  She bit her lower lip. She wasn’t looking for a holiday romance. And anything more serious was out of the question. She would bet her modest little diamond-stud earrings that she and Kit had absolutely nothing in common beyond a fondness for old songs and dancing in the moonlight.

  Still, what could another few hours together hurt, as long as she didn’t let things go too far? A few laughs, some light conversation, a little harmless flirting…could that really be so bad?

  She could almost hear her mother responding to the mental question. Don’t be a fool, Savannah Jane. You, more than anyone, know what kind of trouble you can get in if you don’t behave yourself.

  In response to that familiar, carping voice, Savannah lifted her chin and said almost defiantly, “All right. What time would you like to meet?”

  Kit’s smile deepened. “Eight-thirty?” he suggested. “I’ll stop by for you.”

  She nodded.’ “Fine. Eight-thirty.”

  “Maybe we could go down to the beach after breakfast,” he added, pressing his advantage.

  She murmured something noncommittal, deciding to take the next day as it came.

  Moving slowly, as if to keep from startling her, Kit leaned closer. “Goodnight, Savannah,” he murmured, his warm breath brushing her lips. “Sleep well.”

  “Good night,” she whispered, her breath caught in her throat.

  He kissed her lightly at first, apparently intending to keep it brief and friendly. But something changed almost immediately after their lips met. What had begun as a tentative, rather innocuous caress was soon transformed into a’deep, thorough, intimate embrace.

  It was the first time in her life that a kiss made Savannah feel as though she’d been struck by lightning. The powerful charge coursed through her from her lips to her toes, which curled automatically in her high heeled sandals. It sizzled beneath her skin, igniting the heat that had been building inside her since their first dance. Desire exploded inside her.

  By the time Kit lifted his head and backed away, Savannah was incapable of speech. She could only stare at him, stunned by what had just happened between them. Kit’s dark eyes looked rather glazed, and his breathing wasn’t entirely steady. She wasn’t the only one who’d been affected by the kiss, she thought dazedly.

  He hadn’t even touched her except with his lips, she realized, and yet her entire body tingled as though he’d run his hands over every inch of her. How had he done that?

  She couldn’t handle this, she thought as panic coursed through her. She wasn’t experienced enough to keep her responses to this man under control. It would be too easy to get in over her head, and she refused to let another charming, seductive, overconfident male shake the hard-earned self-confidence she’d spent thirteen years building.

  As if he’d read her mind—and seen her doubts—Kit spoke quickly. “Tomorrow morning. Eight-thirty. I’ll pick you up.”

  He was gone before she could find her voice to argue with him. As he faded into the shadows of the long walkway that circled the resort compound, she thought she heard him humming “Star Dust.”

  Savannah closed herself into her tidy little cottage and then leaned back weakly against the door.

  “Oh, my,” she murmured, fanning her burning face with her hand. “What an evening.”

  And she would be seeing him again tomorrow.

  BY THE TIME Kit was to stop by for her the next morning, Savannah had convinced herself that she’d simply overreacted the evening before. She’d let the champagne, the stars, the music and the dancing go to her head, she decided.

  No man could be as incredible as Kit had seemed to be last night. Dashing gentleman pirates were only fantasies, and she would do well to keep that in mind in the light of day.

  She’d dressed casually today, wearing denim shorts and a red-and-white-striped T-shirt over her royal blue swimsuit. Barely-there sandals on her feet. Her hair pulled back into a flirty, twisted ponytail. Looking into the mirror, she saw echoes of the girl she’d been fifteen years ago, when she and her cousins had buried that silly time capsule. Back when she’d looked forward to each new day and the adventures it would bring.

  She lifted her chin and nodded in approval as that old, slightly reckless feeling surged again inside her for the first time in so very long. She was on a tropical island, about to meet an attractive and entertaining man. She was going to enjoy every minute of her time with him, dam it She could do that without causing a disaster, right?

  “Right,” she firmly told her doubtful reflection.

  Someone rapped imperiously on her door, and her newfound boldness threatened to take a nosedive as her mind was suddenly flooded with memories of that spine-melting kiss. Her cheeks flamed, and her breath caught in anticipation.

  She shook her head in disgust. She was being ridiculous again. He was just a man, for pete’s sake. Hadn’t she just told herself that Kit was not so very different from any other good-looking guy? So why was she acting like a starstruck teenager?

  She jerked open the cottage door so abruptly that Kit’s smile was quizzical when she found him standing on her doorstep, looking fit and gorgeous in a red, white and blue color-blocked T-shirt and navy shorts that showed off long, tanned legs.

  “Good morning,” he said in that deep, smooth voice, giving her that same rather dangerous smile that had curled her toes last night.

&n
bsp; Just another man? Yeah, right.

  Savannah made herself breathe again, hoping her voice didn’t come out in an embarrassing squeak when she replied, “Good morning.”

  Be very careful, Savannah, said the old, familiar voice of caution, while that new, wicked little voice urged, Go for it.

  Ignoring both of the annoying voices in her head, Savannah lifted her chin, gave Kit a bright smile and stepped through her door.

  “Ready?” she asked him.

  He reached out to run à fingertip down her cheek, the touch fleeting and very light, but still enough to reignite that banked flame deep inside her.

  “I’m more than ready,” he assured her huskily.

  Oh, Savannah, her own voice whispered inside her dazed head. You’re headed for trouble.

  2

  HE COULDNT STOP staring at her.

  Kit was barely conscious of the staff efficiently working the tables or the other diners around them. All he saw was Savannah, sitting across from him and eating her breakfast with a visible appreciation that made him ache to discover if all her appetites were as enthusiastic.

  He wanted her. Maybe he had from the moment he’d first seen her. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman this fast, this strongly, this powerfully after such a brief time.

  He didn’t even know her, he reminded himself.

  And then she smiled at him over the rim of a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and the hunger hit him again. Hard.

  Whoever she was, he wanted her.

  How long should he wait before he could tell her so without scaring her away?

  He’d had trouble getting her to talk at first. She’d seemed to have a bit of difficulty meeting his eyes across the table, and he suspected that she was remembering that incredible kiss they’d shared before parting last night. He hadn’t meant to kiss her quite so thoroughly. He’d intended only to allow himself a quick taste of her, something he’d been wanting to do for hours on the dance floor. But the kiss had flared out of control almost before he’d realized what was happening.