Sweet Restraint

by Becca Dale

  “Oh, God! Did I interrupt?”

  “Sort of, but not really. He'd already turned me down.”

  Kate grabbed her beer, shaking her head as she took a drink. “He did not. No man would.”

  “Gavin did.” Savannah took a deep breath and tried to laugh. “Pretty crazy, huh? I wait half my life for a guy who makes me want to break the vow, and he's enthralled by the promise and my damned virginity.”

  Setting her beer back on the table, Kate took Savannah's hand. “Do you really think that?”

  Did she? “I don't know. Sometimes I think he wants the business union he initially proposed, then he acts like he can't keep his hands off me, so I think maybe there's more to it than I know. Just when I assume I have him figured out, he puts up walls between us.”

  “So what are you thinking your answer will be?”

  “Unless your friend reveals some deep dark secret that I can't live with, I'll say yes.”

  Kate squeezed Savannah's fingers. “You're sure?”

  “Hell no, and I won't be until I give him an answer. I don't suppose Connor got back to you, yet, did he?”

  “Actually, he did.” Picking up her beer, Kate turned to settle into the far corner of the couch with a dreamy look on her face. “He called me this afternoon.”

  “Why do you look like a woman with a man on her mind?”

  Kate's cheeks turned pink despite her deep tan. “I don't go for short guys. You're projecting.”

  Was her friend keeping secrets? “I don't think so, but tell me what he said and then you can tell me how cute you think he is.”

  “I don't think he's cute.”

  Is she trying to convince me or herself? Savannah laughed and grabbed her cola before heading to the kitchen. “I'm starving. Give me the report while I make supper. You can save the juicy bits for dessert.”

  With a forced sigh, Kate followed. “There are no juicy bits. Your life is far wilder than mine lately. Only a crazy person contemplates marriage after knowing someone for a few hours.”

  Gathering the makings for chicken Caesar salad from the fridge, Savannah pointed to the dish cupboard. “Just set the table and quit giving me grief. I'm doing that well enough on my own.”

  Gavin's cock ached despite having found release against Savannah's hot body, but he hadn't stopped grinning all evening. She'd offered him her virginity, begged him to take it, but she'd done it because she wanted him to want more out of marriage than her innocence. That meant she wanted more than a business deal, too, didn't it? Foolish hope swelled beneath his breastbone, and for once, he didn't shove it away.

  Throwing his shower towel over the rack to dry, he pulled on a pair of sweats and dropped on his bed to stare at the ceiling. It was after ten. Was it too late to call? No one went to bed before midnight anymore, right? His phone was in his hand before he could answer his own question.

  She answered on the third ring, breathless. “Vannah.”

  “It's me.”

  “Me who?”

  Laughter rang in her voice but jealousy still reared its head. “The man who's spent the last four hours thinking about your naked ass and long legs running down the hall.”

  She laughed out loud. “I'm sorry. You'll have to be more specific. I have so many men who like to watch me run when I'm naked. It's actually become a neighborhood phenomenon of sorts.”

  He had to smile at that. “Here I thought I was special. Now that I know everyone has seen, and apparently approves of your backside, I guess I'll have to focus on marrying you before someone steals you away.” She didn't answer. “Savannah? Did you fall asleep?”

  “No. Just thinking about the fact that I'm down to twenty-six hours to make a decision that will change both our lives.”

  “And? Are you any closer to a yes?”

  He could almost hear her smile. “What makes you so sure the answer will be yes?”

  “I'm not. Just confident of what I want to hear.”

  “This is really a ridiculous idea, you know, an arranged marriage in the twenty-first century.”

  Grabbing an extra pillow, he stuffed it behind him while he contemplated the best way to answer her. “It's not an arranged marriage if the bride and groom set it up.”

  “What would you call it then, soldier boy?”

  “Practical.”

  She grew quiet again, and the rustle of fabric sounded though the speaker. Was she in bed, undressed for the night? “Gavin?”

  “Yeah, beauty?” He had to stop fantasizing about her naked and all alone.

  “Is that really what you want from me, nothing more than a sensible arrangement?”

  Hell no! “That's what this is all about, isn't it?”

  “Tell me again why I'm even considering this?”

  Thoughts of all the reasons he wanted her in his life and his bed flashed through his mind, but every one of them would send her running for the hills and just might land him in the local psych ward. He settled for the reasons he needed her to believe. “It's realistic. Too many children grow up in broken homes because we live in a disposable society. Everything is throw-away in a year—ten at most.

  “Having parents who live apart but can be civil to one another is far better for kids than living together in a home full of resentment or anger.”

  “True. I wish my dad had left the bitch long ago. I'm not saying all marriages are a good idea. I just want mine to be one that lasts. If both parties go into the situation with their eyes open, then problems might be easier to deal with in the long run.” He heard the sound of running water echoing in the background. “Did I interrupt your shower?”

  “No, I'm making a cup of green tea before bed. Want some?”

  He laughed. “If it means I get to see you in your sexy pajamas then yes.”

  “Get your head out of the gutter, Gavin. I'm in an oversized T-shirt and dance pants. Nothing enticing about that.”

  “Bra?”

  “Of course not, I'm going to bed.”

  He groaned. “Then that's sexy as hell.”

  “Whatever.” Her teasing laugh washed over him like a cool rain despite the need simmering in his blood. “Do you always think with your privates?”

  Chuckling, he imagined her cheeks turning pink. “I love the fact that you can't say cock or dick or even penis for that matter.”

  “Quit picking on me and answer the question.”

  “Not always. Which is another reason that a practical arrangement between us makes sense.”

  Her cup rattled against the counter as the teakettle screamed. “Hold on just a second.”

  She put the phone down, and he listened to her domestic sounds. Even such a simple thing as her making a cup of tea before bed poured from an old-fashioned kettle rather than from the microwave felt special to him. Yes, he thought with his dick when she was around, wanted to strip away her practical night shirt and lay her bare on his sheets, but he also wanted the right to know her bedtime rituals, to make her soup when she was sick, or sit with her on their porch and watch the sun set when he was eighty.

  “Okay, I'm back. You were saying?” Her voice came out breathless as if she'd hurried so she didn't keep him waiting.

  “I lost my train of thought.”

  “Why is the fact that you don't always think with your...thingy...important?”

  He burst out laughing. “Sorry, did you say thingy?”

  “Shut-up.”

  Could a man hear a blush as it traveled over a woman's body? Still chuckling, he sat up to set the alarm. “If we are both thinking only with our...um...thingies...then when we're old and saggy and wrinkly, why would we stay together?”

  “I hate you on so many levels, you know that, right?”

  He grinned as her flustered laugh floated through the line. “Yep, but you want me on just as many, not the least of which is my body. You know you want my—”

  “Don't say it, Gavin Ferguson.”

  “What? I was going to say you covet my construction t
ruck. Were you thinking something dirty?”

  She laughed again. “Okay, I give.”

  Fabric rustled. Had she crawled onto her bed? His entire body clenched at the thought of her lying on the mattress, warm and approachable as she snuggled in for the night. “Is that a yes?”

  Was her hair down or in a ponytail? Her face would be washed clear of makeup, her perfect breasts unbound beneath her shirt.

  “No, but what if I admit that I think your idea might work?”

  That got his attention, jerking him back from his fantasy. “You think it's ridiculous, remember?”

  “I do—did—but now I'm not so sure. Going into a marriage like a business proposition, eyes wide, makes perfect sense in some weird way.”

  Why did his chest hurt as she admitted that she might consider a loveless marriage? “What if days, weeks, even years later you found the one who makes your heart skip a beat?”

  “It wouldn't matter. I made a deal. I'd stick to it unless for some reason I felt like I couldn't fulfill the bargain or my husband wanted out. I wouldn't force him to stay if he wanted to go. You—he would just have to say the word.”

  “I wouldn't hold you if you wanted to leave, beauty. I just hope your level of commitment is higher than most.”

  “Can I ask you a favor, Gavin?”

  “Of course.” Say yes already.

  “Will you write something up? Outline the details of what you expect before tomorrow night?”

  “Okay. So are you seriously contemplating this?”

  “Of course I am or we wouldn't be having this conversation.”

  “When...if you agree, when can we do it?”

  She whispered a sexy, breathless sound. “Get married or actually do it?”

  “One directly follows the other, beauty.” Did he sound as out of breath as she did?

  “Get me the specs on this deal, and we'll talk about the when and where tomorrow night.”

  “I can live with that.” He paused, thinking about her lovely body. “As long as I have you on the phone, would you like to further your education?”

  He could practically hear her brain as she processed his question. “Are you suggesting phone sex?”

  He adjusted himself and hoped for the best. “If you're up for it, yes.”

  “No. By the way, thanks for grabbing my underwear off the floor before Kate saw them.”

  “See what a good guy I am? I even gave them back when I wanted to keep them as a souvenir.”

  Her laughter eased some of his need. “Goodnight, Gavin.”

  “Night. Sleep well, beauty.” He hung up the phone with a grin. Savannah had no idea how much he wanted her in his arms for the rest of her life. Even after only a few days, his bed felt empty, his heart lonely, without her.

  Rolling out off the mattress, he fired up his desktop and went to the kitchen for a glass of water while he waited for the old computer to come alive. He needed a new one, but more often than not, he just used his state-of-the-art one at work. By the time he returned to his desk, it lived. Jerking out the office chair, he dropped into it and pulled up a blank document to write the most important contract of his life.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Chapter Ten

  Savannah awoke to a throbbing headache and a pounding on her door. She groaned and rolled out of bed. A quick glance at the clock confirmed it was way too damned early for visitors. Since the office didn't officially open until nine, even Kate waited until at least seven during the workweek. No one in his right mind dropped by at five a.m.

  Pulling aside the narrow curtain covering the sidelight, she groaned again. Gavin stood on her stoop looking way too sexy and put together for so early in the morning.

  She flipped the latch and swung open the door as she hurried out of sight. “Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back.”

  His deep chuckle followed her down the hall. “Aren't you even going to say good morning?”

  “Good morning!”

  She grinned at herself in the mirror as she scrubbed her teeth. The souvenir T-shirt Kate had bought her in Mexico hung on her slender frame but the dance pants hugged her butt like a second skin. Gavin would appreciate the pants, and once he realized she hadn't had time to put on a bra, the shirt wouldn't be an issue either. She spit, rinsed, and contemplated the joy of waking in his arms.

  “My alarm doesn't go off for another hour and a half.” She raised her voice so he could hear her in the kitchen. “Why are you here so early?”

  “I didn't want to miss you.”

  She jumped as his voice sounded right outside the door. “I go to work at eight-thirty.” Swiping a brush through her hair, Savannah studied her reflection. No makeup. Did she have time to put some on?

  “Savannah, are you coming out or are we having a conversation through the door?”

  “Go make coffee. I'll be out in a second.”

  “I brought coffee and scones. They're in the kitchen getting cold.” He knocked. “Come on. I want to see what you look like when you first roll out.”

  She opened the door and grinned at him. “Masochist, are you?”

  His dark eyes traveled down her frame, hesitating only a moment on her breasts, but they nipped out for him anyway. With a groan, he swept her to his chest. “A baggy shirt never looked so hot before.”

  She braced her forearms between them in an attempt to focus. “Have a thing for shapeless clothing, do you?”

  “No, just for women who make me hard at five in the morning.”

  “Don't blame me. I offered. It's your own fault that you didn't wake in my bed this morning, soldier boy.”

  “I know.” He closed his eyes a moment as if praying for strength. “I've pretty much kicked myself for that ever since.”

  Grinning, she wiggled closer. “Does that mean you've changed your mind?”

  His big hand closed around the back of her head and lifted her to meet his kiss. It was tender and hot at the same time, with just the right amount of tongue to spice it up. Her knees buckled and her bones melted. His other hand slipped down her back to caress the swell of her ass and pulled her hips to his.

  Dark unfathomable eyes burned her as he lifted his head. “I can't. I want to so damned much, but I can't.”

  Savannah tried to step back but his hands tightened holding her against him. “Did I miss something? I thought you didn't want me.”

  A scowl drew his brows down. “Quit saying that. I want you so fucking bad my dick is contemplating going on strike.” He boosted her in his arms. “Put your legs around me, beauty.” When she did, he groaned. “How much do you want coffee this morning?”

  “Honestly?” She could not get beyond the heat and moisture surging through her core. Her body yearned for his intimate caress.

  “Yes.”

  She tried not to grin. “I want it really bad.”

  Long fingers massaged her butt cheeks, pressing the stretch fabric into the crevice, kneading a desire she didn't want to contemplate fully. “Yes, but what about coffee?”

  Savannah laughed. “Are you offering something equally hot?”

  Gavin's mouth drove her crazy as he kissed across her jaw and down her neck, strong fingers caressing her breasts through her nightshirt. Teasing and tantalizing, stealing her breath. She closed her eyes to absorb the sexy feel of his lips and hands as he carried her toward her bedroom. He paused to nuzzle beneath her ear...to nip at the pulse beating too fast...to drop her on the bed—

  It took her a moment to realize he had walked away. “Gavin?”

  “We need to talk.” Before she could follow him, he spun with a pained look on his face. “Put on a damned bra.”

  Propping herself on her elbows, she watched him storm from the room and a slow smile spread to ease the aching sensation left by his touch. “Does this mean I should take a hot, soapy shower and get ready for work?”

  His mumbled response sounded suspiciously like a moaned expletive. What shou
ld have equaled rejection melted to a different kind of ache, one less like lust and a whole lot like the possibility of something much more.

  “I'm taking that as a yes!”

  The shower turned on and off in a matter of minutes. The fact that Savannah hurried her morning routine for him brought a grin to Gavin's face. As he waited, he glanced over the contract he'd stayed up half the night writing. He'd tried to walk the line between strictly business and personal, but it hadn't worked. He'd wanted nothing more than to make her promise to love him until the day he tipped over, but doing so would void the entire idea of a practical arrangement, an illusion he wasn't willing to give up yet. Perhaps he would never be able to let down his guard fully, but once his ring circled her finger and offered a small hope for their future, maybe he could risk letting himself love her.

  Holding her in his arms, no makeup, wearing nothing sexier than an oversized shirt that should have looked frumpy but triggered the need to protect, had destroyed his last hope for a sane response to her. She reacted strongly to his touch, but initial passion faded over time, didn't it? What if in a year or even twenty she wanted to leave? It would kill him no matter when she lost interest. The Wallace curse would not disappear just because the woman who triggered it walked away. Even years after his grandmother's death, his grandfather still suffered her loss, still mourned her every day.

  “What's so important that it couldn't wait until later?” Savannah strolled across the kitchen toward him dressed in her usual work clothes. Restrained in a simple band, her dark hair lay over one shoulder, emphasizing her innocence.

  “I brought the paperwork you asked for.”

  She scowled at the contract like it would bite as she grabbed a cup of coffee, removed the lid, and popped the cooled liquid in the microwave. “I thought you were going to bring that by tonight.”