STEAMY SAVANNAH NIGHTS

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  Mesmerized, he toyed with her hair, twining it around his fingers, making the moment even more erotic. Falling deeper under her spell, he yielded to the pressure in his loins, to the warmth and the wetness.

  He knew he should warn her that he was getting close, that he was on the verge of losing control, but he couldn't summon the strength to give up the pleasure, to lessen the mind-blowing gratification. So he watched her instead, getting more and more turned on.

  Time passed, seconds, minutes. He didn't care. He couldn't think beyond the sucking motion, beyond the way she made him feel.

  She gave him everything—every raw, ravenous sensation a man could imagine, every hot wicked thing he could fantasize about.

  Michael cupped her face, knowing he was going to spill into her, knowing she was going to let him.

  After it was over, they stared at each other, stunned, confused, strangely aroused. He wasn't sure if he should apologize or drag her against his body and kiss her senseless.

  He did neither. He simply accepted their newfound intimacy, curious when she ran her tongue across her lips.

  "Salty?" he asked.

  She nodded, then reached for the bottled water beside her bed and took a sip. "I've never gone that far before."

  His skin turned warm. "Me, neither." He'd always pulled back before he climaxed, never expecting any of his lovers to do what Lea had just done. "What an incredible way to start the day."

  "For you," she said, making a face.

  He laughed, and she splashed him, spraying his chest. He grabbed her, and they tumbled over the sheets, wresting with the plastic bottle and dumping the rest of the water onto the bed.

  And at that silly, lighthearted moment, he prayed that he would never lose her, that she was his to keep.

  His cell phone rang, interrupting their horseplay, jarring his tender thoughts. Cursing his job, he answered it, sensing it was a business call.

  "Michael?" Cindy's frantic voice came on the line. "Have you seen the paper this morning?"

  "No. I'm at Lea's. What's going on?"

  "It made the front page.

  "What did?" he asked, although he was already gathering his clothes, already preparing to get dressed. Cindy wasn't the type to overreact.

  "The paternity test. Someone leaked it to the press."

  He glanced at his lover, cursing out loud this time. "Does the article mention Lea?"

  "No. It's speculation, mostly. But it doesn't look good for Mr. Danforth."

  He yanked up his pants. "Lea and I will meet you at the office. Send the rest of the team to Crofthaven."

  "I already did."

  "Good. We'll see you soon." He hung up and told Lea to get ready, knowing all hell was about to break loose.

  * * *

  Eleven

  « ^ »

  Lea sat at a long wooden table in a meeting room at Whittaker and Associates, with the newspaper strewn in front of her. She'd barely had time to catch her breath and now her stomach was burning from drinking the coffee Cindy had poured into her cup. She still hadn't told the other woman she preferred tea, and Michael was too preoccupied to notice.

  "I feel so responsible," Cindy said. She walked around to the other side of the table, moving closer to Michael. "It was my job to make sure this didn't happen." She took the chair next to him. "Maybe it was someone at the lab."

  "Or someone who works for Danforth's attorneys." He smoothed his sleep-tousled hair. "There are only a handful of people who knew about the test. And this is only going to get worse."

  Cindy agreed. "The tabloids are going to have a field day. They'll probably link Mr. Danforth with every socialite in Savannah. Married, single. Anyone with a young child."

  Silent, Lea glanced at the article about her father. The press didn't know he'd fathered a grown daughter. And being omitted from the scandal made her feel like a cheat, like she'd skimmed by purposely, allowing her dad to take the fall.

  Michael blew out a frustrated breath. "Being a political figure isn't easy. The press plays a dirty game."

  "They sure do," the blonde said.

  Once again, guilt clawed at Lea's conscience. Hoping to settle her stomach, she reached for a croissant and took a small bite. Cindy had provided a variety of baked goods, something, Lea assumed, the blonde did for her boss every morning.

  He decided to eat, too, spreading cream cheese onto a bagel. He didn't look like a man who'd spent the last hour engaging in erotic acts with his lover. He was all business now, except for his wrinkled clothes, the same shirt and trousers he'd worn to the club the night before.

  Lea wasn't faring much better. She'd grabbed a T-shirt and jeans, barely having time to wash her face and brush her teeth. Cindy, of course, looked as polished as a new penny. Everything about her shimmered, including the copper-colored buttons on her designer suit.

  "How's it going at Crofthaven?" Michael asked his assistant.

  "Our team is keeping the media circus away," she responded.

  Lea finally spoke up. "I'm the one who's responsible for this mess. If I had agreed to a press conference with my father, none of this would have happened." She reached for the paper. "Is it too late to do it now?"

  Michael glanced up at her, ignoring his half-eaten bagel. She caught Cindy's attention, as well.

  "It's not too late," he said. "But it won't be easy on you. The press will want to delve into every aspect of your life."

  She put on a brave face. "I owe this to my father."

  Cindy chimed in. "I think it's the perfect solution, Michael. If Mr. Danforth and his Amerasian daughter show a united front, it will create a positive image for both of them." She turned to Lea. "And there's nothing in your past that won't endear you to the public."

  Except Lady Savannah, she thought. And that was a private matter, between her and her father.

  "Are you sure you're ready to do this?" Michael asked.

  "Yes, I'm sure." What choice did she have? She couldn't let her dad suffer. She couldn't allow the media to make up stories about him, pairing him with half the women in Savannah, gossiping, speculating about who had given birth to his child.

  Michael leaned forward. "I'll call your father and let him discuss this with his campaign manager. They can arrange the press conference." He snared her gaze. "It would probably be better if you moved in with me, at least for a while. My house is secure. The paparazzi can't bother you there."

  "I'll be okay." She didn't want to use this as an excuse to live with him. She wanted to be sure he loved her first, that he wasn't confused about his feelings.

  "Fine. I'll make that call from my office." He stood, taking his coffee with him. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

  After he left the room, Cindy picked up a blueberry muffin. "You wounded his pride."

  "I know." And now she feared she might lose him. "But what else could I do?"

  "Nothing. You made the right decision."

  "Did I?" She gazed at the other woman, a sudden chill icing her spine. A warning, she thought. But hadn't there been warning signs all along? "Who's the man you're interested in?"

  Cindy lifted her chin. "Who do you think he is?"

  "Michael," she said, her pulse pounding in her ears.

  His assistant remained calm, poised as ever. "That's crazy." She picked at her muffin, taking delicate bites. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were a suspicious shrew."

  Lea narrowed her eyes. "Oh, really?"

  "Yes, but you're not. You're just insecure."

  "Why? Because you've convinced me not to move in with the man I love?"

  "Living with Michael won't make him feel the same way about you. It will only give him what he wants." Cindy dusted the crumbs from her fingers. "A bedmate, someone to satisfy his needs. And you'll end up getting hurt."

  Lea pushed away her croissant. She was already hurting, already fighting her fears.

  A moment later, Michael came back, ready to resume their meeting. Both women turned to look at
him, but neither of them breathed a word of the conversation they'd just had.

  * * *

  The press conference was being held at the Twin Oaks Hotel, the same location as the July Fourth fund-raiser where Lea had first confronted her father. For now, she waited in a hospitality suite, where Nicola Granville, Abraham's campaign manager and image consultant, had been giving her one last briefing, one last boost of encouragement.

  Nicola was outgoing and confident, as well as smart and pretty. Lea had no idea if the other woman was involved with her father, but she recalled Michael's observation, his gut instinct that Abraham and Nicola were attracted to each other.

  Nicola glanced at her watch. "I'm going to head over to the conference room to check on some details. Just relax, Lea. And I'll come back for you when it's time."

  "Is my father here yet?"

  "No, but he should be arriving shortly."

  "Okay. Thanks." She reached for the root beer she'd been nursing. Michael was already at the conference room, but he'd stationed a bodyguard outside the hospitality suite in case anyone bothered Lea.

  Nicola exited the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She had no idea where Cindy was today, but she was glad the deceptive blonde wasn't hovering nearby, making her more nervous than she already was. Although she intended to talk to Michael about his assistant, she wanted to wait until the press conference was over, until she could think clearly.

  The bodyguard knocked on the door, then poked his head inside. "Two of your brothers are here to see you, Miss Nguyen."

  "My brothers?" Lea hopped up from the couch, nearly spilling her drink. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes, ma'am. I verified their identification. Adam and Marcus Danforth."

  "Then send them in." She smoothed her dress, praying that she met with their approval.

  A second later, when her brothers entered the room, Lea forgot to breathe. They looked more handsome in person than they did in the photographs she'd seen. Taller, broader, chiseled and strong.

  "I'm Adam." The older of the two stepped forward. She knew his age—twenty-nine—because she'd memorized details about her siblings, things she'd read in newspaper and magazine clippings.

  "I'm Lea." She smiled, and the greeting turned warm. Adam gave her a quick brotherly hug, and she sensed that was his way of welcoming her into the family.

  "I don't suppose this is much fun," he said. "The press conference and all that."

  "I'm nervous," she admitted, studying the hazelgold color of his eyes. She'd come across some old tabloid articles about Adam, claiming that he'd been involved in a love triangle. Were the allegations true? She had no idea. But either way, he seemed to empathize with her situation.

  Finally, her other brother moved forward. His eyes caught hers, and they gazed at each other. She knew he was a Harvard-educated lawyer, an attorney for Danforth and Company,

  "You're Marcus," she said.

  "Call me Marc."

  Once again, they simply looked at each other. She couldn't explain the instant bond, the feeling that she trusted him already.

  "I'm sorry about your mother, Lea. That you lost her before you came to America."

  "Thank you." She hadn't expected any of Abraham's children to mention his Vietnamese lover. She'd assumed Lan would be a taboo subject, someone they would prefer to sweep under the rug if they could. "I'm sorry you lost your mother, too."

  "It was a long time ago," he said. "I was just a kid."

  But it hadn't been easy on him, she thought. "I'm so glad you and Adam stopped by. This means so much to me."

  "You're our new sister." Marc glanced at his brother. "We've always been loyal. To each other," he added, indicating that their father hadn't always garnered their loyalty, that his absence, the years he'd spent on his military career, had created a void in their lives. "Ian, Reid and Kim couldn't make it today. But I'm sure you'll be hearing from them before long."

  Overwhelmed, she blinked back tears. "I'm looking forward to meeting my other brothers, and of course my sister, too." She paused to take a much-needed breath. "I was worried about how she would feel about me."

  Adam spoke up. "Kim should enjoy having another female around." He laughed a little. "Not that she didn't learn to hold her own around all of us."

  Lea smiled, then realized she'd forgotten her manners. "Would either of you like a drink?" She gestured to the wet bar. "Nicola said it was stocked."

  Her brothers declined the offer, admitting that they would prefer to skip out before their dad arrived. "It'll be easier if it's just the two of you at the press conference," Marc said, sounding like the attorney he was. "And Adam would just as soon avoid the limelight. Wouldn't you, bro?"

  "You got that right." Adam reached for Lea's hand to say goodbye, wishing her luck. Marc said goodbye, too, giving her a hug this time, making her feel warm and protected.

  After, they left, she resumed her spot on the couch and waited for her father, for the man who'd given her a family.

  * * *

  When the press conference ended, Michael invited Lea to his house for dinner. After a day filled with public scrutiny, he wanted her to enjoy a quiet evening in a secluded location.

  He turned to look at her. She seemed preoccupied, as though her thoughts kept drifting. While he mashed potatoes, she pan-fried pork chops and made gravy, but they hadn't talked about anything other than the meal.

  "Are these too lumpy?" he asked.

  She came over to him and checked the potatoes. "It depends on how you like them."

  "It doesn't matter."

  "Then go ahead and add a little milk."

  "How much is a little?"

  "This much." She poured the milk for him, and he took the opportunity to move closer to her.

  "It went well today," he said, watching her, pretending to be focused on the potatoes.

  "Yes, it did, considering the circumstances. It wasn't easy for my father to admit to the press that he'd committed adultery, even if his amnesia was to blame."

  "He's been willing to do that since he met you."

  "I know, but I still think it took a lot of courage on his part."

  Michael took back the bowl, even though she'd finished mashing the potatoes for him. "The reporters are going to verify his story. They're going to research his medical records to make sure it's true."

  "It doesn't matter." She turned down the flame on the stove, then covered the pork chops. "He doesn't have anything to hide. Not like me."

  "The press isn't going to find out about Lady Savannah, Lea. That's not going to make the papers."

  "No, but our affair probably will."

  "I don't care if they figure out that we're sleeping together." He tried to search her gaze, wishing she would look at him. "Do you?"

  "No." She fussed with the salad, adding a layer of grated cheese on top. "We don't have anything to be ashamed of."

  Then why was she behaving so awkwardly? Perplexed, he leaned against the counter. "Are you okay? You seem sort of distant."

  She finally glanced up. "I do have something on my mind."

  "What?"

  "Arranging some vacation time at work. I don't think I can handle being in the public eye right now."

  "That's understandable." His heart began to pound, reminding him of the effect she had on him, of his need to be close to her. "Did you change your mind about staying here, too?"

  "Yes, but just for a few days, just until the media attention dies down." She set the salad aside. Behind her, the pork chops sizzled, sending a mouthwatering aroma into the air. "You don't mind, do you?"

  "Of course not. I offered to let you stay here." He moved to stand beside her, to brush her shoulder with his. "I'll take some time off, too. We can lounge around together."

  She sent him a gracious smile. "Thank you. I really need your support right now."

  He sensed that she had more on her mind. That she hadn't told him everything. But he decided to drop the subject until she had a cha
nce to relax.

  "I'm investigating the paternity test leak," he said, letting her know he intended to find out who'd created this mess.

  "Really? Do you have any leads?"

  "Not yet. But there are only a couple of avenues to follow. Only a few sources who knew about the test."

  She stirred the gravy. "I'm sure you'll find out."

  "I hope so." He liked the way she looked in his kitchen, creating a domestic atmosphere, making him feel warm and homey. "I'm certainly going to do my best."

  A short while later, they dined by candlelight, with music playing on the stereo. Over dinner, she talked about her brothers and how happy she was that they'd made an effort to see her. Michael smiled, pleased Adam and Marc had endeared themselves to her.

  After their meal ended, he suggested dessert on the patio. She agreed, and they sat outside, listening to the sounds of summer and eating chocolate ice cream.

  The air was mild, the sky dotted with stars. In the distance, he could see his private dock and a boat he sometimes used on security detail.

  Silent, he turned to study Lea. She still had on the same clothes she'd worn to the press conference, and her hair was loose, falling to her waist like rain.

  "Tell me what's going on," he said. "Besides your concern about being in the public eye."

  She took an audible breath. "I'm having some problems with Cindy."

  Concerned, he leaned forward in his chair. "What kind of problems?"

  Lea stirred her ice cream. "I think she's trying to come between us."

  Stunned, Michael could only stare. "Why would she do that?"

  Her eyes locked onto his. "Because she's interested in you. You're the mystery man she's been pursuing."

  "Did she tell you that?"

  "No. She denied it, but I can tell it's true."

  He shook his head, wondering what the hell was going on. He'd never expected a conversation like this to evolve, not with Lea. "Give me the facts, support your claim."

  Her voice quavered a little. "She keeps telling me that your attraction to me is purely sexual. That it will never be anything more than that." Her eyes were still magnetized to his. "She says I'll end up getting hurt."

  "And this is coming from a woman who's supposedly interested in me?" He set his bowl on the patio table. His appetite was gone, his stomach muscles tense. "Come on, Lea. Why would she want me if she thinks I'm such a dog?"