Brides and Grooms Box Set: Marriage Wanted\Bride Wanted\Groom Wanted (7 page)

Nash frowned, his thoughts confused. “I’ll grant
there are exceptions to every rule and your parents are clearly that. Unfortunately, the love they share doesn’t exist between most married couples.

“It’d be easy to tell you I like my macaroni and cheese extra cheesy,” he went on to say, “but I have a feeling you’ll change your mind in the morning and demand a rematch.”

Savannah smiled and pressed the side of her head against the car window.

“You’re exhausted, and if I accepted your defeat, you’d never forgive me.”

“What do you suggest, then?”

“A draw.” He pulled into the alley behind the shop, where Savannah had parked her car. “Let’s call it square. I proved what I wanted to prove and you did the same. There’s no need to go back to the beginning and start over, because neither of us is going to make any progress with the other. We’re both too strong-minded for that.”

“We should have recognized it sooner,” Savannah said, eyes closed.

She was so attractive, so…delectable, Nash had to force himself to look away.

“It’s very gentlemanly of you not to accept my defeat.”

“Not really.”

Her eyes slowly opened and she turned her head so she could meet his eyes. “Why not?”

“Because I’m about to incur your wrath.”

“Really? How are you going to do that?”

He smiled. It’d been so long since he’d looked forward to anything this much. “Because, my dear wedding coordinator, I’m about to kiss you.”

Four

“Y
ou’re…you’re going to kiss me?” Savannah had been exhausted seconds earlier, but Nash’s words were a shot of adrenaline that bolted her upright.

“I most certainly am,” he said, parking his car behind hers in the dark alley. “Don’t look so scared. The fact is, you might even enjoy this.”

That was what terrified Savannah most. If ever there was a man whose touch she yearned for, it was Nash. If ever there was a man she longed to be held by, it was Nash.

He bent his head toward hers and what resistance she’d managed to amass died a sudden death as he pressed his chin to her temple and simply held her against him. If he’d been rough or demanding or anything but gentle, she might’ve had a chance at resisting him. She might’ve had the
desire
to resist him. But she didn’t. A sigh rumbled through her and with heedless curiosity she lifted her hand to his face, her fingertips grazing his jaw. Her touch seemed to go through him like an electrical shock because he groaned and, as she tilted back her head, his mouth sought hers.

At the blast of unexpected sensation, Savannah buckled against him and whimpered, all the while clinging to him. The kiss continued, gaining in intensity and fervor until Savannah felt certain her heart would pound straight through her chest.

Savannah closed her eyes, deep in a world of sensual pleasure.

“Savannah.” Her name was a groan. His breathing, heavy and hard, came in bursts as he struggled to regain control. Savannah was struggling, too. She finally opened her eyes. Her fingers were in his hair; she sighed and relaxed her hold.

Nash raised his head and took her face between his hands, his eyes delving into hers. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

An apology. She should’ve expected it, should’ve been prepared for it. But she wasn’t.

He seemed to be waiting for her to respond so she gave him a weak smile, and lowered her gaze, not wanting him to guess how strong her reaction had been.

He leaned his forehead against hers and chuckled softly. “You’re a surprise a minute.”

“What do you mean?”

He dropped a glancing kiss on the side of her face. “I wouldn’t have believed you’d be so passionate. The way you kissed me…”

“In other words, you didn’t expect someone like me to experience sensual pleasure?” she demanded righteously. “It might shock you to know I’m still a woman.”

“What?” Nash said. “What are you talking about?”

“You heard me,” she said, frantically searching for her purse and the bag of leftovers her mother had insisted she take home with her.

“Stop,” he said. “Don’t use insults to ruin something that was beautiful and spontaneous.”

“I wasn’t the one—”

She wasn’t allowed to finish. Taking her by the arms, he hauled her toward him until his mouth was on hers. Her resistance disappeared in the powerful persuasion of his kisses.

He exhaled sharply when he finished. “Your leg has nothing to do with this. Nothing. Do you understand?”

“Why were you so surprised, then?” she asked, struggling to keep her indignation alive. It was almost impossible when she was in his arms.

His answer took a long time. “I don’t know.”

“That’s what I thought.” She broke away and held her purse against her like a shield. “We’ve agreed to disagree on the issue of love and marriage, isn’t that correct?”

“Yes,” he said without emotion.

“Then I don’t see any reason for us to continue our debate. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Davenport. Goodbye.” Having said that, she jerked open the car door and nearly toppled backward. She caught herself in the nick of time before she could tumble head-first into the alley.

“Savannah, for heaven’s sake, will you—”

“Please, just leave me alone,” she said, furious with herself for making such a dramatic exit and with him for reasons as yet unclear.

Because he made her
feel
, she guessed sometime later, when she was home and safe. He made her feel as if she was whole and without flaws. As if she was an attractive, desirable woman. Savannah blamed Nash for pretending she could be something she wasn’t and
the anger simmered in her blood long after she’d readied for bed.

Neatly folding her quilt at the foot of her bed, Savannah stood, seething, taking deep breaths to keep the tears at bay.

In the morning, after she’d downed her first cup of coffee, Savannah felt better. She was determined to put the incident and the man out of her mind. There was no reason for them to see each other again, no reason for them to continue with this farce. Not that Nash would
want
to see her, especially after the idiotic way she’d behaved, scrambling out of his car as if escaping a murderer.

As was so often the case of late, Savannah was wrong. Nash was waiting on the sidewalk in front of her shop, carrying a white bag, when she arrived for work.

“Another peace offering?” she asked, when she unlocked the front door and opened it for him.

“Something like that.” He handed her a latte, then walked across the showroom and sat on the corner of her desk, dangling one leg, as though he had every right to make himself comfortable in her place of business.

Savannah hadn’t recovered from seeing him again so soon; she wasn’t prepared for another confrontation. “What can I do for you?” she asked stiffly, setting the latte aside. She sat down and leaned back in the swivel chair, hoping she looked relaxed, knowing she didn’t.

“I’ve come to answer your question,” he said, leg swinging as he pried loose the lid on his cup. He was so blasé about everything, as if the intensity of their kisses was a common thing for him. As if she was one
in a long line of conquests. “You wanted to know what was different last night and I’m here to tell you.”

This was the last thing Savannah expected. She glanced pointedly at her watch. “Is this going to take long? I’ve got an appointment in ten minutes.”

“I’ll be out of here before your client arrives.”

“Good.” She crossed her arms, trying to hold on to her patience. Their kisses embarrassed her now. She was determined to push the whole incident out of her mind and forget him. It’d been crazy to make a wager with him. Fun, true, but sheer folly nonetheless. The best she could do was forget she’d ever met the man. Nash, however, seemed unwilling to let that happen.

“Well?” she pressed when he didn’t immediately speak.

“A woman doesn’t generally go to my head the way you did,” he said. “When I make love to a woman I’m the one in control.”

“We weren’t making love,” she said heatedly, heat flushing her cheeks with instant color. Her fingers bit into the soft flesh of her arms as she fought to keep the embarrassment to herself.

“What
do
you call it, then?”

“Kissing.”

“Yes, but it would’ve developed into something a whole lot more complicated if we hadn’t been in my car. The last time I made love in the backseat of a car, I was—”

“This may come as a surprise to you, but I have no interest in hearing about your sexual exploits,” she interjected.

“Fine,” he snapped.

“Besides, we were nowhere near making love.”

Nash’s responding snort sent ripples of outrage through Savannah. “You overestimate your appeal, Mr. Davenport.”

He laughed outright this time. “Somehow or other, I thought you’d say as much. I was hoping you’d be a bit more honest, but then, I’ve found truth an unusual trait in most women.”

The bell above her door chimed just then, and her appointment strolled into the shop. Savannah was so grateful to have this uncomfortable conversation interrupted, she almost hugged her client.

“I’d love to continue this debate,” she lied, “but as you can see, I have a customer.”

“Perhaps another time,” Nash suggested.

She hesitated. “Perhaps.”

He snickered disdainfully as he stood and sipped from the take-out cup. “As I said, women seem to have a hard time dealing with the truth.”

Savannah pretended not to hear him as she walked toward her customer, a welcoming smile on her face. “Good morning, Melinda. I’m so glad to see you.”

Nash said nothing as he sauntered past her and out the door. Not until he was out of sight did Savannah relax her guard. He claimed she went to his head. What he didn’t know was that his effect on her was startlingly similar. Then again, perhaps he did know….

* * *

The woman irritated him. No, Nash decided as he hit the sidewalk, his stride clipped and fast, she more than irritated him. Savannah Charles incensed him. He didn’t understand this oppressive need he felt to talk to her, to explain, to hear her thoughts. He’d awakened wishing things hadn’t ended so abruptly between them,
wishing he’d known what to say to convince her of his sincerity. Morning had felt like a second chance.

In retrospect, he suspected he was looking for help himself in working through the powerful emotions that had evolved during their embrace. Instead, Savannah claimed he’d miscalculated her reaction. The heck he had.

He should’ve realized she was as confused as he was about their explosive response to each other.

Nash arrived at his office half an hour later than usual. As he walked past his assistant’s desk, she handed him several telephone messages. He was due in court in twenty minutes, and wouldn’t have time to return any calls until early afternoon. Shuffling through the slips, he stopped at the third one.

Susan.

His sister had called him, apparently on her cell. Without further thought he set his briefcase aside and reached for the phone, punching out the number listed.

“Susan, it’s Nash,” he said when she answered. If he hadn’t been so eager to talk to her, he might have mulled over the reason for her call. Something must have happened; otherwise she wouldn’t have swallowed her pride to contact him.

“Hello, Nash.”

He waited a moment in vain for her to continue. “You called me?”

“Yes,” she said abruptly. “I wanted to apologize for hanging up on you the other day. It was rude and unnecessary. Kurt and I had a…discussion about it and he said I owed you an apology.”

“Kurt’s got a good head on his shoulders,” he said,
thinking his sister would laugh and the tension between them would ease. It didn’t.

“I thought about what he had to say and Kurt’s right. I’m sorry for the way I reacted.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Nash admitted. “I shouldn’t have checked up on you behind your back.” If she could be so generous with her forgiveness, then so could he. After all, Susan was his little sister. He had her best interests at heart, although she wouldn’t fully appreciate his concern until later in life, when she was responsible for children of her own. He wasn’t Susan’s father, but he was her closest relative. Although she was twenty-four, he felt she still needed his guidance and direction.

“I was thinking we might have lunch together some afternoon,” she ventured, and the quaver in her voice revealed how uneasy she was making the suggestion.

Nash had missed their lunches together. “Sounds like a great idea to me. How about Thursday?”

“Same place as always?”

There was a Mexican restaurant that was their favorite, on a steep side street not far from the King County courthouse. They’d made a point of meeting there for lunch at least once a month for the past several years. The waitresses knew them well enough to greet them by name.

“All right. See you Thursday at noon.”

“Great.”

Grinning, Nash replaced the receiver.

He looked forward to this luncheon date with his sister the way a kid anticipates the arrival of the Easter bunny. They’d both said and done things they regretted. Nash hadn’t changed his mind about his sister marrying Kurt Caldwell. Kurt was decent, intelligent,
hardworking and sincere, but they were both too young for marriage. Too uninformed about it. Judging by Susan’s reaction, she wasn’t likely to heed his advice. He hated to think of her making the same mistakes he had, but there didn’t seem to be any help for it. He might as well mend the bridges of communication before they became irreparable.

* * *

“Is something wrong?” Susan asked Savannah as they went over the details for the wedding. It bothered her how careful Susan and Kurt had to be with their money, but she admired the couple’s discipline. Each decision had been painstaking.

“I’m sorry.” Savannah’s mind clearly wasn’t on the subject at hand. It had taken a sharp turn in another direction the moment Susan had shown up for their appointment. She reminded Savannah so much of her brother. Susan and Nash had the same eye and hair color, but they were alike in other ways, as well. The way Susan smiled and her easy laugh were Nash’s trademarks.