A manservant opened the double doors for him with a flourish, and as he stood on the threshold he was momentarily stunned. The scene laid out in front of him showed the oak-panelled dining-room fully restored to its former glory. It was a haven of colour and warmth, and the sound of fun and laughter drew him in.
If Savannah had chosen to be a theatrical designer rather than a singer, she couldn’t have conjured up a more glamorous set. But in the centre of that set was the centre of his attention: Savannah, looking more dazzling than he’d ever seen her.
Looking…There were no words to describe how Savannah looked. With her soft, golden curls hanging loose in a shimmering curtain down her back, she looked ethereal, and yet glamorous and womanly. She was playing hostess to the squad in a stunning pale-pink gown that fitted her voluptuous figure perfectly. This was no child, or some wanton sex-kitten displaying her wares in front of a roomful of men. This was a real woman, a woman with class, with heart and light in her eyes, a woman he now remembered was accustomed to working alongside men on her parents’ farm, which explained her ease of manner. That was what made it so easy for his friends on the squad to relate to her, he realised.
‘Ethan…’
Seeing him, her face lit up, and as she came towards him he realised he had expected to be shunned after the churlish way he’d treated her, but instead she was holding out her hands to invite him in. She was more than beautiful, he realised in that moment; Savannah was one of those rare people: a force for good.
‘Come,’ she said softly. ‘Come and meet your guests, Ethan.’
His attention was centred on her after that moment, and though he was quickly immersed in the camaraderie of the team he was acutely aware of her every second.
The boys in the squad laughed goodnaturedly, and made him admit that what Savannah had organised for them was a whole lot better than a quiet kitchen-supper. He agreed, and eventually even he was laughing. What Savannah had done for the team had made them feel special. She made him feel special.
It thrilled Savannah to see what an inspiration Ethan was to the younger players. Everyone showed him the utmost respect. At Ethan’s insistence she was sitting next to him. She couldn’t bear to think this was the last occasion when she would do that.
‘Here’s to England winning the Six Nations,’ he said, standing up to deliver the toast. ‘And here’s to the only one amongst us without a broken nose.’
It took Savannah a moment to realise Ethan was raising his glass to her, and as everyone laughed and cheered he added, ‘To our gracious hostess for the evening, the lovely Savannah Ross.’
‘Savannah Ross!’ the squad chorused, raising their glasses to her.
Savannah’s cheeks were crimson, but Ethan hadn’t finished with her yet. ‘Would you sing for us?’ he murmured discreetly. As his warm breath brushed her cheeks her heart beat even faster. She was touched by the request, but terrified at the thought of singing in front of a room full of people, all of whose faces she could see quite clearly. There was no nice, safe barrier of blinding footlights to hide behind here.
‘I’m sure you don’t want to hear my rendition of Rusalka’s Song to the Moon!’ She laughed, as if the aria’s romantic title would be enough to put him off.
But Ethan wasn’t so easily dissuaded. ‘That sounds lovely.’ He looked round the table for confirmation, and everyone agreed.
As the room went still, Savannah wondered could she do this? Could she sing the song of the water-sprite telling the moon of her love for one man? And could she do that with Ethan staring at her?
Help him in dreams to think of me…
‘No pressure,’ Ethan said dryly.
Pressing her fingertips on the table, she slowly got up.
Silvery moon in the great, dark sky…
Savannah hardly remembered what happened after the opening line, because she was lost in the music and the meaning of the words. She didn’t come to until she heard everyone cheering and banging the table. And then she found Ethan at her side. ‘Did I—?’
‘Sing beautifully?’ he said, staring deep into her eyes. ‘Yes, you did.’
She relaxed and, laughing as she shook her head in exaggerated complaint, raised her eyes to the ceiling for the benefit of the squad. ‘What can you do with him?’
‘What can you do with him?’ Ethan murmured, but when her quick glance brushed his face she saw his expression hadn’t changed. It was always so hard to know what Ethan was thinking.
‘Our only difficulty with Ethan,’ one of the players told her, ‘is that he refuses to consider anything that has his name, a team, a ball, and a rugby pitch in the same sentence.’
‘Leave it,’ Ethan warned goodnaturedly when he overheard this comment.
Savannah kept her thoughts to herself. But didn’t everyone know Ethan’s injuries had prevented him from further involvement in the game? He just couldn’t risk one of the man-mountains landing on top of him. Tactfully, she changed the subject. Tapping her water glass with a spoon, she offered to sing an encore if the boys would help her with the chorus. And as she’d hoped that soon took the spotlight off Ethan.
After murdering every song they could think of, the players retired to bed, while Savannah insisted on changing and staying behind to help the staff clear up. ‘It’s late,’ she told Ethan, ‘and everyone’s tired. We’ve had a wonderful evening, thanks to your staff working so late, so I’m going to stay and help them.’
‘Then so will I,’ he said, giving his staff the night off.
‘I never thought I’d have the courage to sing in front of such a small group of people,’ Savannah admitted as they worked side by side, putting the room to rights.
‘You could certainly see the whites of their eyes,’ he agreed wryly.
But none of them had eyes as beautiful as Ethan’s, Savannah mused, keeping this thought in a warm little pocket close to her heart. ‘You gave me the courage to do it,’ she admitted.
‘Then I’m pleased if your short stay here has helped your confidence.’
Savannah didn’t hear any more. The warm little pocket shrivelled to nothing. She’d been trying to tell Ethan they were a great team, but it had fallen on deaf ears. And if that was all he thought this incredible time had meant to her she really was on a hiding to nothing. But at least she could stop worrying whether she had given away too much, singing her impassioned song to the moon, Savannah reflected sadly, for just as Ethan’s talent for inspiring people and for his art was wasted so was her love for him.
‘You were great tonight,’ he said, reclaiming her attention as he toed open the door to carry a tray to the kitchen. But just as her heart began to lift, he added, ‘I’m really glad we signed you, Savannah Ross.’
She was still flat when Ethan returned with the empty tray. ‘Well, have we finished?’ he said.
‘Looks like it,’ Savannah agreed, checking round. ‘What?’ she prompted when Ethan continued to look at her.
She would ignore that look of his. Memories of their love-making sent an electric current shooting through her body; she’d ignore that too. What she must do was leave the room. ‘Excuse me, please.’ She avoided Ethan’s gaze as she tried to move past him.
‘I thought you might want a nightcap.’ One step was all it took to block her way.
That was the cue for her willpower to strike. She wanted Ethan to make love to her one last time, though in her heart she knew sex would never be enough; she wanted more; she wanted all of him.
But, if sex was all they had, what then?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘IT DOESN’T usually take you so long to decide, Savannah.’
True, Savannah accepted wryly. The way Ethan had pitched his voice, so low and sexy, was sending her desire for him into overdrive. ‘Water’s fine.’
What was she doing? So much for her intention to retire to bed and think chaste thoughts! She’d sold out for a glass of water, and now Ethan showed no signs of moving out of her way.
He wanted her. He loved her. Savannah had impressed him tonight in every way, but what he felt for her was so much more than pride in her achievements. She had filled his home with light and laughter, and he could never thank her enough for that. She’d worked as hard as any member of his staff to make his friends feel welcome. She’d mixed well with the men and had known where the boundaries lay and how to impose a few of her own without causing embarrassment. She’d told him more about the farm and her life there, and he only wished he’d had the chance to see it before their lives diverged. But at least she was leaving on a high note. He would never forget the way that men with battered faces had treated her like a favourite sister, and how much trouble she had gone to for them. And how she had looked so beautiful, and yet not once had flaunted her appeal. In fact, quite the opposite; she seemed totally unaware of it.
‘It was a great night, Ethan; let’s not spoil it now.’
‘Spoil it?’ he queried.
‘You know I have to go tomorrow.’
So let’s not draw this out, she was telling him. And, yes, he should let her go. ‘It was a very good night,’ he agreed, fighting back passion. But there were forces inside him that overruled his modern take on the situation. She was his. He wanted her. He loved this woman. The desire to possess Savannah overwhelmed him, and as she sensed the change in him and her eyes darkened he dragged her into his arms.
This was wrong. This was fool’s gold. This was also the only thing on earth she wanted right now. She put up a token resistance, pressing her hands against Ethan’s chest, but as she stared into his eyes and he murmured something decidedly erotic she gave in. Ethan understood the needs of her body and how to turn her on in every way there was. He knew how to extend her pleasure until she was mad with it, mad for him, and now all expectations of sleeping alone and dreaming chaste thoughts were gone. She groaned softly as he teased her with his lips, and with his tongue and teeth, reminding her of what came next. He felt so hard, toned and warm as his hands found her breasts. And he tasted of warm, hungry man—clean, so good, and so very familiar. And she’d missed him in the few hours they’d been apart.
But she shouldn’t…They mustn’t…
Her hips were already tilting, thrusting, inviting, while Ethan was backing her relentlessly towards the door. She waited until he slipped the lock before lacing her fingers through his thick dark hair and making him her prisoner. ‘Shall we be captives here for long?’
‘As long as it takes,’ he promised huskily.
And as he brushed her lips with his mouth, and she sighed and melted, she murmured, ‘Kiss me.’
‘Since when do I have to be prompted?’
Since never. Savannah purred with desire, and then gasped as Ethan swept her into his arms and carried her across the room. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she murmured as he laid her down on the rug.
‘A nice, soft rug is so much kinder than a table, don’t you think?’
Savannah’s cheeks blazed red as she understood Ethan’s intentions were to take her any place, any time, anywhere, much as her fantasies had dictated. ‘Why didn’t I think of the rug?’ she murmured, arcing towards him.
‘Because you’ve still got a lot to learn?’
‘Everything,’ she corrected him happily.
‘So, I’ll teach you. Where would you like me to start?’
‘Right here…’ She placed his hand over her breast, and uttered a happy cry when he turned her beneath him.
Holding her wrists loosely above her head, Ethan dealt with the fastening on her clothes. She loved it when his big, warm hands cupped her buttocks, subjecting her to delicious stroking moves as he prepared her. She loved to feel those hands caressing and supporting her as he positioned her. She loved everything about him—the wide spread of his shoulders, the power in his chest, and the biceps flexing on his arms when he braced himself above her. She felt protected and loved. She wanted this, needed him—needed Ethan deep inside her so she could forget she had to leave him in the morning. Wrapped up in passion, she wound her legs around him and lost herself again.
His intention had been to take Savannah to bed and make love to her all night, but here, in front of a crackling fire in the candlelit room she had made beautiful, there were all the romantic elements she could wish for, and he wanted to give her the full fairy-tale romance. All that had ever stood in the way of that was his cold, unfeeling heart, but for tonight he had the chance to hold Savannah in his arms while she slept, and he wanted to remember how she felt in his arms, and how she looked when he held her safe. He wanted to keep her safe always. Safe from him.
He knew what he must do, Ethan accepted grimly. Easing his arm out from under her, he kissed Savannah awake like some prince in a distorted fairy-tale. There could be no happy ending here. She smiled at him groggily. Reaching for his hand, she brought it to her lips. As she gazed at him her lips moved, and the dread that she was going to say ‘I love you’ made him kiss her again, but this time not to wake her, but to silence her. He wouldn’t lure her into his cold, dark world, but the moment he released her she asked the one question he had been dreading most. ‘Ethan, tell me about your scars.’
He turned his face away for a moment, cursing his arrogant assumption that Savannah could ever be distracted from her purpose. She touched his face to bring him back to her, but he pulled away. ‘What do you want to know?’ he said coldly.
‘Everything.’
Everything? The word echoed in his head. If he would save her from him, he was blindingly certain he would save her from everything.
‘Ethan, why is it so wrong for me to want to be close to you when we just made love? I want to know who did this to you and why. Surely you can trust me enough to tell me that?’
She had no idea. How could she? He removed himself a little more, both physically and mentally. ‘I can understand your fascination.’ He spoke in a murmur as he reasoned it through, his mind set on other occasions when he’d suspected the questioner had obtained some sort of foul, vicarious thrill out of the violence.
‘Fascination?’ Savannah’s voice called him back. ‘Ethan, you don’t know me at all. How can you think me so shallow?’
‘Aren’t all women shallow?’ The bitterness burst out of him before he could stop it.
‘I don’t know what kind of women you’ve met in the past,’ Savannah countered hotly. ‘And I don’t want to. But I can assure you I’m not shallow.’ Her voice was raised, her body tense, and her gaze held his intently—but after a moment she froze, and a change came over her. ‘Is your mother behind this?’
Every part of him railed against this intrusion into the deepest part of his psyche. ‘How could you know that?’
‘Because I can’t think of anything more terrible than betrayal by a mother, and whatever wounded you to this extent has to be that bad.’
‘You know all about me in five minutes?’ he demanded scornfully.
‘I knew you from the moment I met you.’ She said this with blinding honesty ‘From that second on, Ethan, I knew you.’
For the longest moment neither of them spoke, and then he told her some of it.
‘One man did this to you, Ethan?’ Savannah’s face contorted with disbelief, and her eyes betrayed her bitter disappointment that Ethan didn’t trust her more than that.
‘I don’t believe you. I can’t believe this was some random attack. There isn’t a man alive who could do this to you.’ Her eyes narrowed in thought. ‘Unless you were unconscious at the time—were you unconscious? Did someone drug you to do this?’
‘It would be a cold day in hell before that happened.’
He must have been attacked by a gang, Savannah reasoned. The way Ethan had described his stepfather, the man had been a cowardly weed who wouldn’t have had the strength to hold Ethan down and inflict such terrible injuries.
‘Can we drop the subject?’ he snapped, jolting her out of her calculations.
‘No, we can’t,’ she s
aid bluntly. ‘I want the truth, Ethan—all of it. We just did some very adult things, and it’s time you stopped treating me like a child.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ETHAN’S naked torso looked as though a pitchfork with serrated edges had been dragged back and forth across it several times. ‘A gang of men must have done this to you,’ Savannah insisted, sure she was right now.
‘You tell me,’ Ethan snarled, ‘Since you seem to know so much about it.’
The tension in him frightened her. Wound up so tight, he surely had to snap. But she wouldn’t let it go. She couldn’t let it go. If she couldn’t reach out now and touch him, she never would. She went for his machismo with all guns blazing. ‘If a gang of thugs attacked you it’s nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘Ashamed?’ Ethan roared, exactly as she’d hoped. ‘You think I’m ashamed?’
His fury filled the room, but as the window of opportunity opened she climbed through it. ‘What am I supposed to think if you won’t tell me?’
‘May I suggest you don’t think about it at all, since it’s no concern of yours?’
Savannah’s heart was hammering in her chest at the thought of what she’d started, but if Ethan held back now there was no hope for him—for them. ‘If we mean anything to each other.’ She could see the black void in Ethan, but stubbornly she kept right on blundering towards it. ‘If you can’t trust me.’
He was already reaching for his shirt. ‘Get dressed,’ he said, tossing her clothes onto the bed. He couldn’t wait to leave her. She’d gone too far.
Savannah dressed quickly, determined to finish what she’d started, and with everything half-fastened and hanging off her shoulders she raced to the door. Pressing her back against it, she barred his way. ‘Tell me—tell me everything, Ethan. I won’t move until you do.’
He looked down at her from his great height as if she were an annoying flea he might choose to flick out of his way. She braced herself against the look in his eyes, and against the knowledge that Ethan could always use the simple expedient of lifting her out of his way. His expression assured her he had considered that, but to her immense relief he eased back. Several seconds passed while they measured each other and then he started speaking.
The Ruthless Billionaire’s Virgin Page 12
