by Donna Fasano
Daniel glanced at the notepad that she'd placed between them. He listened to her explain the procedure, but his eyes were riveted to her fingers as they lightly grasped the pen. Her long, perfectly tapered nails were coated with a dusky-pink polish, the skin of her hand smooth and pale. He imagined those fingers playing over his arms, his chest.
Stop it! He commanded himself. The same sort of wild images had plagued him the evening of the last hospital board meeting. He'd hardly been able to pay attention to the business being discussed with Savanna sitting in the room. And when she'd approached the table of board members to explain her fund-raising ideas, the sultry pictures in his brain had intensified. He'd had to physically push them out of his mind and concentrate on foiling her plans of joining the fund-raising team.
He'd hated to hurt her feelings. And he knew he had when he'd come right out and told her that he didn't expect her to hang around long enough to complete any project she might start. But he'd felt it was imperative to be honest.
The rumor floating around town was that Savanna wanted very much to come home for good, to move back to Fulton. She'd said something about it to him. But he'd also heard from her own lips that she planned to return to Baltimore in a few short weeks. Would she stay or would she go? Who could say for sure? How could she commit herself to helping the hospital when she was so damned flighty and indecisive? Thinking of her capricious nature only made him glad he'd had sense enough to keep all his options open by querying the Richmond law firm.
The townspeople didn't know Savanna the way he did. He was certain that she was going to start the ball rolling on this big dinner project, and then she'd abandon the very people she was supposed to be helping. Whether she high-tailed it back to Baltimore or just quit the plans to go dance in the sun, either way she'd leave a mess that none of the folks in Fulton were prepared to handle.
Well, he would have to keep a close eye on all of Savanna's plans. That way he'd be better prepared to pick up the pieces when she left. Better prepared than he'd been the last time she'd run off.
"Prepare yourself," Savanna said.
The words sent a chill racing along Daniel's spine. He lifted his head to stare into her clear, blue eyes.
"More people will hang up on you than will listen to what you have to say." She tapped the end of the pen lightly on her chin. "If you can keep the potential contributor's attention for the first fifteen seconds, then you've got a live one. The longer people listen, the more likely they will be to contribute."
"I see," he said.
She scooted her chair closer to the desk. "Well, let's give it a try."
Realizing that he'd become so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't heard a word she'd said, he quickly gazed down the list of pointers from which she'd been reading. "If you'd like, I'll make a couple of calls and you can listen to my end of the conversation," she offered.
"Sounds like a good idea."
He watched Savanna dial the first name on the list the hospital administration office had supplied.
"Here goes," she whispered.
Her voice was warm and friendly as she explained who she was to the person on the other end of the telephone line. As the seconds ticked by and the one-sided conversation became more animated, Daniel knew that Savanna had what she'd called "a live one."
Daniel focused on her mouth when she chuckled lightly into the receiver. Her strawberry-colored lips pulled into a lingering smile that caused his blood to heat. She stared across the room, immersed in her discussion.
He had to admit that she knew how to play on the prospective donor's ego. People liked to be appreciated; further more, people liked for others to know of their generosity. Why settle for the silver club when one could become a member of the gold club, or even better, the platinum club. And everyone in town would see the names of each club's members in the pamphlet that would be printed after the fund-raiser ended. Man, she was good at this.
He rested his elbow on the table, curled his fingers and rubbed the backs of them across his chin, using quick, short strokes. Her blue eyes fascinated him…had always fascinated him. He remembered years ago how he could make them shine with giddy excitement when he brought her some small surprise or other, and how he could make those same eyes darken with desire until they were as deep and soft as navy-hued velvet.
The muscles low in his gut tightened as the memories bombarded his brain.
"Ooo-Wee," Savanna exclaimed as she replaced the telephone receiver into its cradle. "Fifty dollars!" She marked the amount down beside the caller's name. "Did you hear that, Daniel? Fulton General is fifty dollars richer after just one phone call."
There, he thought, those blue eyes of hers were shining with excitement just as he remembered. He was helpless against the next question that entered his head…could he make those eyes darken with desire?
As if by its own volition, his hand reached out and he gently stroked her silky blond hair. Then the backs of his fingers grazed her cheek.
"You're beautiful when you smile," he murmured.
She froze for a mere instant. The excitement that had danced in her eyes a moment before changed to an inquisitive gleam. Then she smiled again, just for him. A slow, languorous smile that tempted and teased.
"Thank you," she said.
Without even thinking about his actions, Daniel ran his fingers along the length of her jaw, over her chin and rested them on the pulse point of her throat. He felt the blood throb through her veins, the pulsing causing his own heartbeat to quicken.
"You've changed."
Savanna grinned. "For the better, I hope."
He could only nod, thinking it ungentlemanly to explain. But in his mind he noted how the teenage Savanna he'd known six years ago had had a rounder face and a body that had been rail thin. Time had altered her, thinning out her face to define high cheekbones and a delicate jaw, and filling out her body with lush, irresistible curves. He was afraid she wouldn't appreciate his opinion of how she'd changed, but he certainly liked what the years had done.
"I think it's only fair to tell you," she said, her voice whisper soft, "that I wanted you to notice."
Her cheeks tinged a gorgeous pink and he enjoyed watching her become flustered.
"I mean, I wanted you to see that I was a woman."
The color in her face deepened as her embarrassment escalated. She shook her head.
"What I meant to say was that I wanted you to see me as someone other than the teenager from your past..." Her voice trailed and she dipped her head, turning away from him.
Lifting her chin with his index finger, he looked into her eyes and assured her, "I know exactly what you mean."
"I feel like I'm all of sixteen," she muttered.
Daniel had to chuckle. "Me too."
He smoothed a trembling hand over her shoulder and reveled in the feel of the soft silk of her blouse. He'd sell his soul right now to feel the silkiness of her skin beneath it.
His breath caught in his throat as the muscles in his lower abdomen began to ache. He hadn't felt desire this strong in a very long time.
Locking onto her gaze, he watched her eyes darken to the deep-blue color of a southern twilight. Was that an invitation he saw there?
"May I kiss you?" The question sounded almost too formal even to his own ears, but he needed to be sure.
The merest hint of a smile parted her full, sultry lips. "Please."
He continued to stare a moment longer. The problems and doubts that faced them outside the door would still be there when they emerged from this small office. He hadn't a single qualm about that. And his rational mind told him to stop this, here and now, before it went any further. However, right now his mind was anything but rational. It wasn't his mind he was listening to, anyway.
All he wanted was to taste Savanna's lips, smell the secretive scent of her skin, feel the softness of her hair brush his cheek. All he wanted was to spend a few moments lost in the desire she roused in him.
&nb
sp; For an instant, he pondered pulling away, denying the need that called, no, screamed inside him. But then she touched him, her warm, sure fingers gliding over the back of his hand and wrist, along his forearm…and he was lost.
He lowered his head, ever so slowly, and pressed his lips against the curve at the base of her neck. Nibbling his way up to her ear, he inhaled deeply the scent of her hair and a picture of a flowery meadow came to his mind. He kissed the sensitive skin behind her ear and her sharp intake of breath nearly made him smile. He remembered the spot as being one of her erogenous zones, and joy burst through him knowing he could still draw that kind of reaction from her.
Pulling her to him, he slid his hands around her back and hugged her tightly. She felt good in his arms. So very good.
He was only momentarily surprised when she raised herself a scant inch, eased her weight from her chair and slid onto his lap. She settled in, burying her face in the crook of his neck.
Heat flowed through his veins as though his blood was liquid fire. Savanna stoked the flame when she touched her lips to his neck. Her mouth felt cool and moist. And when her tongue flicked out to taste him, his breath quickened.
Pulling her back gently, he rained small, soft but urgent kisses all along her jawline. He tasted her pert chin and then kissed his way to her other ear. Nipping her earlobe with his teeth, he then soothed it with his tongue. She arched her back and shivered deliciously.
He lifted his head and darted a glance at her face. Her closed eyes, fanned with dark, delicate lashes. Her full mouth, ripe and ready and waiting. Her milky skin, flushed from his kisses.
Her eyelids fluttered open. She stared at him with irises that were a familiar deep navy. Again, emotion coursed through him, hot and strong, at the knowledge that he had aroused the desire he read in her gaze. The realization came to him slowly that she had the material of his shirt bunched in her fists.
"Dear, God, Daniel." Her words were a throaty whisper. "Kiss me."
Swallowing hard, he tried to get a grip on himself. His gaze searched hers until her eyes cleared a bit.
"What are we doing?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
"I don't know," she told him. Her tone was erotically breathless. "Right now I don't care. I don't want to think about it."
"Then we won't."
After six long years, he covered her lips with his.
Chapter Eight
Savanna hummed as she rolled paint onto the wall, using long strokes to turn the beige guest room a bright, cheery white. She was surprised by the small amount of paint it was taking to cover the walls. Once the paint dried, she'd hang the green chintz curtains she bought, toss the new throw pillows she'd found on the bed, and the bedroom would have a fresh, new look.
Stepping back from the wall, she took a moment to rock her hips to the soft pop music floating from the radio. She sang a line of the song and ended up in a fit of laughter remembering how, as a child, she had overheard her music teacher remark that "little Savanna Langford couldn't carry a tune in a bucket." The woman had been right, Savanna thought ruefully, but that didn't keep her from singing.
Lord, she was happy. Plans for the fund-raising dinner were going better than she could have expected. And the volunteers reported that their telephone pleas were being met, for the most part, favorably which meant profitably. Although she'd had to take some gentle ribbing from Miz Ida. The woman was the only board member to point out that the night Savanna and Daniel had been scheduled to make telephone calls, there had been only one pledge made. Savanna had tried to explain how she and Daniel had become busy talking, catching up after six years, but she was certain Ida hadn't believed a word she'd said. Savanna tingled from her head to her toes just thinking about that night. Daniel's kiss had been worth every bit of teasing Miz Ida could dole out.
The main reason for the happiness trilling inside her, Savanna knew, was the fact that she'd had dinner with Daniel three nights running. Oh, there hadn't been another passionate encounter such as the one they'd shared in the office at the hospital. But nowhere was it written that she couldn't hope. Savanna laughed aloud, the sound echoing off the bare walls.
She thought Daniel might call her a little later. Maybe she could suggest they go to the movie theater on Main Street. Then, she mused, maybe he'd walk her home in the romantic moonlight. Maybe they would take a shortcut through the park. A sensual smile lingered on her mouth and a chuckle rumbled deep in the back of her throat. Maybe they would find that park bench, the same one they'd shared on their first date, the same one where they shared their first kiss.
The giddy feeling that tickled through her made her press her palm flat against her stomach. She felt like a teenager again. Life was perfect. Well, nearly so.
There were a couple of small clouds throwing shadows over her exhilaration. Daniel still believed that she was going to leave the hospital in a lurch. Oh, he didn't say the words out loud. He didn't have to. She saw the guarded look in his eyes when the topic of the dinner came up. They worked hard to avoid talking about the fund-raising activities.
And then there was the continued rumor of his leaving Fulton. Ida's Cousin Emma had reported that Darlene had heard that the senior partner in the law firm located in Richmond had called Daniel several times. Savanna wondered why he hadn't said anything to her about his plans.
Bending over, she turned up the volume of the radio. She'd play the ostrich, she decided, and hide her head in the sand a while longer. That was the only way she could go on seeing him and not confront him with the gossip and questions she had about his partnership offer. And if there was one thing she knew, it was that she had every intention of continuing to spend time with him. Indeed, she did.
As she belted out another off-key chorus of the song, she scooted her roller into the tray until it was saturated with white paint. Stretching her arm high, she smoothed paint to the wall.
The sound of a single tap caught her attention. She stopped painting and looked toward the door. Then she heard another tap. And another. When she realized the sound was coming from the window, actually the sound was caused by something hitting against the glass, she put down the paint roller and leaned to look through the screen.
Daniel was standing in the backyard, a fistful of tiny pebbles in his hand. His lips were moving, but she couldn't hear him.
"Just a second," she called. "Let me turn down the radio." When she returned to the window, she asked, "What were you saying?"
"I said, turn down the radio," he yelled.
Savanna laughed. "Come on in."
"I tried, but the door's locked."
"I'll be right down."
Padding down the stairs in bare feet, Savanna tucked the extra-wide neck of her big, comfortable t-shirt back onto her shoulder and tugged at the frayed hem of her tight denim cutoffs. Then she smoothed her hand over her bangs and fingered the red print bandanna she'd used to tie her hair up into a ponytail.
She grinned ruefully and thought, You can't expect to look the glamor girl every time you see him.
"Hi," she said, stepping back from the open door.
"Hi, yourself."
He brushed his lips against her cheek. Once they separated, she could tell by the way he avoided her eyes that he was as startled by the impulsive kiss as she.
Reactive emotions swirled in her at a dizzying speed. Lord, a simple kiss shouldn't cause her such havoc. Inhaling deeply, she smiled and took the piece of paper Daniel held out to her.
"I stopped in at Ida's store," he said. "She mentioned that she had this list for you, and when she found out I was coming over she asked me to bring it along."
He spoke quickly, almost nervously, as though be felt he might need an excuse to visit her.
Feeling the urge to rib him a little, she made her voice sweet and innocent as she said, "You were coming over?"
Daniel actually blushed. Shrugging, he explained, "My afternoon appointment canceled and I thought..."
She couldn't hold her la
ughter any longer. Finally recognizing her teasing for what it was, he shot her an embarrassed grin and shook his head.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's not nice to poke fun at people?"
Placing a hand on his forearm, she said, "You don't need an excuse to come here."
Glancing at the paper he'd handed her, she squealed and jumped into the air.
"This is the list of caterers Ida promised me," she said. "I can't wait to get started calling them." She looked into his face. "The dinner plans are going so well, Daniel."
The aura of boyish charm that had surrounded him a split second earlier dissolved before her very eyes. His gaze, although not exactly hard, no longer twinkled with openness and friendship. His whole demeanor turned cautious and restrained, and she hated this seemingly unscalable mountain that suddenly separated them.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, fighting the part of her nature that screamed for her to confront him. "Let me just put this on my desk. I'll look at it later." She turned and took a step toward the den.
"No. Wait."
Daniel's quiet voice stayed her.
"I'd like to hear what's been happening with your plans," he said.
She didn't miss his choice of pronouns. When he'd spoken to her of the hospital budget difficulties, he'd used the phrase "our problems." But when it came to her ideas for a solution, he used the description "your plans." He separated himself. Maybe not consciously, but he separated himself nonetheless. And Savanna couldn't deny that it hurt.
His asking for an update on the fund-raising dinner, however, did lighten her spirit a little. Maybe there was light at the end of the tunnel, even if it was dim.
"Well," she began, "we booked the country club. And the manager called me just yesterday with news. They've decided to donate the use of the club." She couldn't help her wide smile. "I'm so excited. That means we don't pay a penny."
Absently she hitched the neckline of her T-shirt back onto her shoulder. "The tickets are being printed as we speak. Free of charge, I'm proud to add. And I've contacted three florists, all of whom have offered to donate flowers. I've promised to print the names of all contributing businesses in the program and mention them to any newspapers considering a write-up about the dinner."
