Heart of the Night (38 page)

“When will the trial be done?” he asked.

“Late next week, I'd guess.”

“What will you do then?”

She breathed out a dry laugh. “Catch up on all the work I haven't done since I've been on trial.”

He gave her a skeptical look. When she nodded in confirmation of what she'd just said, he asked, “Won't you take a few days off?”

“I don't have the time.”

“Make the time.” He paused. “DeBarr isn't that much of a slavedriver, is he?”

“No. It's me. I like to be up on things.”

“You'll crack at the rate you're pushing yourself.”

She shook her head. “It hasn't been so bad this time. You've helped.”

He couldn't have asked for a better answer. Still, it wasn't enough. “Let me help more. I'll plan something for next weekend. You'll at least take the weekend off, won't you?”

“Mmm, but I may not be free. I mentioned to Susan that we should get Megan away. My family has a place on Marco Island. The three of us used to go there for vacations right up through the time we graduated from college. Susan and I thought that if we could get Megan there, it would be a good escape for her. She needs something. If my trial ends next week, we may do it next weekend.”

Jared felt disappointed in an old, familiar way, and on the tails of disappointment came annoyance. Then he stopped, thought about Savannah, thought about the situation. And he realized that he wasn't being thrown over for a bunch of shallow politicians but for something deeper and more personal, and in that sense, important. He agreed with Savannah that if the trip helped Megan, it would be worth the time.

With the flick of his fingers, he freed her hair from its pony tail and wove a hand through the long tresses. “So when will I have you for the weekend?” he asked.

She felt a flow of warmth inside. “The one after that?”

“I'll be putting the boat in the water then.”

“Can I help?”

He gave a slow nod.

“Tell me about it—the boat. How many sails does it have?”

“Three. And an engine. And a modern galley. And a big bed.”

“How big?”

“Big enough.”

They were grinning at one another. Savannah wasn't aware that the Trio's song had given way to a different sound until Jared cocked his head. She listened. The song was “Slow Dancing.”

“Want to?” he asked softly.

With a nod, she set down her coffee cup and slid from his lap, then went easily into his arms as he stood. She had never thought of dancing with Jared, but it was like nothing she had ever experienced. He held one of her hands down by his thigh and slanted his other arm across her back to mold her close. The beat of the music was a quiet pulse. He went with it, but slowly, slowly and with just enough movement to heighten the flex of his body against hers.

Savannah felt surrounded—by his arms, his legs, his heat. His scent was male, warm and heady. Moving her face against his neck, she felt the pulse of his life's blood. It was in sync with the slow, steady sway of his body, which was in sync with the beat of the music—all of which was in sync with her needs and wants. Her world, at that moment, was in perfect harmony.

Feeling utterly content, she tiptoed up and slid her arm more tightly around his neck. It was a beautiful moment, one she wished she could freeze and call back at will. She felt no loneliness, no fear, simply love.

Bidden by an unconscious directive, she dropped her head back and looked up at him. His eyes met hers, the one with a slight cast, both with smoky gray flecks. Lowering his head, he kissed her once, twice, three times.

Their bodies barely moved by the time the third kiss was done, and neither of them noticed when “Slow Dancing” segued to “Sure Feels Good.” That was taken for granted.

Teasing her open mouth with the tip of his tongue, Jared worked the buttons of her shirt open one by one.

Savannah held tightly to his shoulders and whispered, “You're working.”

“I know. It's okay. We won't do anything.”

But he touched her, cupped her bare breasts in his hands, kneaded them, taunted her nipples with short, dabbing strokes. She felt her flesh swell into his. Her hands clenched tightly at the nape of his neck; she began to breathe less evenly.

“Jared.”

“It's okay, babe. I'm just touching. Feel good?”

Her head fell back, her eyes closed. “Mmmm.”

Backing up a step, he lowered himself to his chair and drew her between his open legs. Before she had sufficient time to prepare for it, he brought her breast to his mouth. She cried out at the wetness, cried out again when he began to suck. While he pushed up her flesh with his hand, his whole mouth manipulated her nipple. The tugging sensation went straight to her womb, making her lean in closer. She wondered whether he had slipped something into her coffee, when he released that first breast, covered its wet center with his thumb, and promptly turned his attention to its mate.

She sank her hands into his hair. The pleasure he gave her was so intense it hurt, but rather than pulling back, she held him closer. His name was an aching sound when she called him this time.

“I love doing this,” he whispered against her hot flesh.

“But we can't. Not here. Not now.”

One part of Jared knew she was right. The other part knew that he had three more songs before he was needed again, and he couldn't think of a finer way to spend that time. “Just a little more.”

She started to protest, but he released the last of the shirt's buttons and pushed the flannel fabric aside. He ran his hands up and down her sides, coaxing her panties lower with each stroke.

Suddenly Savannah didn't want him to stop. Heart pounding, she looped her hands loosely over his shoulders and arched her back. He took her hint, capturing her breast again with his mouth at the same time that his hands found a home.

They were magic. Within minutes, they had her begging for release, but she didn't want the release to be one-sided. Sinking to her knees, she set rushing fingers to work on his belt. Unfastening it, she looked up at him while she unsnapped his jeans, then eased his zipper down.

“This is crazy,” she told him.

He shifted to help her work around his erection. “No.”

“It is. You're supposed to be working.” The zipper was down. Tugging at his briefs, she dropped her eyes to the hard flesh she'd released. He was beautiful there, too, she thought. Tall and straight, strong, velvety. Her thumbs worshipped him for an instant, then, unable to resist, she leaned forward and took him into her mouth.

“Jesus,” he breathed and had her up so fast that she wasn't quite sure what had happened until she felt herself on his lap being firmly impaled.

She gasped at the fire inside her, then caught her breath and forced herself to slow down. Jared seemed to do the same, with the end result a sweet, simmering rocking against one another, an extension of the dancing they'd done, with their bodies more intimately joined.

The rise was slow and steady, the reward their explosive climaxes. When it was over and they sat, panting, with damp foreheads together, Savannah gave a broken laugh.

“I saw a cartoon in
Cosmopolitan
once. A bare-breasted female DJ sat at her mike, telling her listening audience that she hoped they enjoyed the album she'd just played as much as she had. In the background a man was pulling on his pants.” She took in another rough breath and said in delight, “You should be
ashamed
of yourself, Jared Snow. What would the FCC say if they knew what you've just done?”

“No doubt they'd take my license away, and you know what?” he took her face in his hands and turned it to his. “I wouldn't care.” He kissed her. “That was worth far more than a broadcasting license any day.”

For a minute, Savannah looked at him, slightly overwhelmed by the sensations within her. Then she said in a very soft, heart-bound voice, “There are times like these when I feel so happy I feel guilty.”

That wasn't quite what Jared wanted to hear. “Why guilty?”

“Because I have so much. I look at Susan. I look at Megan. I have so much.”

“You deserve what you have.”

“Maybe I deserve my career. I've worked hard for that. But I don't deserve you. There are times when I'm not quite sure what to do with you.”

Jared dropped his gaze to the point below their bellies where they were still joined and said in a husky drawl, “Looks to me like you're doin' fine.”

A fleeting smile crossed her face before she grew serious again. “I don't think I expected to ever meet someone like you.”

Jared basked in her adoration. “What am I like?”

Having no idea how to put into words what she was feeling, she simply said, “You're … here. You're calm, constant. You're a stabilizing force.”

He wanted to believe her, but he wasn't sure he could. “You happen to be one of the most stable women I know.”

She eyed him skeptically. “Most stable women don't get the shakes when they're all alone late at night.”

“How do you know? You don't see them then. For all you know, they do worse. Besides, getting the shakes has nothing to do with personal stability. It has to do with high-powered people and tension that has no other outlet. Some people let it out as it happens. Some hold it in. That's you. You're totally together at work. The tension comes out in the shakes at night.”

Very gently, he started to ease her off him. When she tightened her thighs around his, he said, “My songs run out soon. I'd better be ready.” Setting her on her feet, he bent over to retrieve her panties and hand them to her. Standing, he adjusted his pants. Then he drew a second chair close and urged her into it. When they were sitting knee-to-knee with their hands linked, he said, “I don't want you feeling guilty about us.”

She didn't want to feel guilty. Lord, she didn't. Locked into his gaze, she wanted to be guilt-free and happy forever after.

Still, she thought of Susan and most urgently of what Sam had said that day, and as inappropriate as the timing seemed, she heard herself say, “When we were growing up, Susan was the one who was big with the guys. She needed that, because I did better in school, and she needed to shine at something. She married Dirk right around the time I was graduating from law school. I've always wondered whether she did it to put herself one step past me. I had my career, she had marriage. Then her marriage fizzled, while my career has continued to grow.” She paused, looked down at her hands, seeming so pale against Jared's. “I want Susan to be happy. I really do.”

“No one's ever doubted that.”

She looked up. “Sam has. He told me so today. He wonders whether I'm deliberately not pushing Susan forward because I don't want the competition. I've never looked at it that way. I've never been conscious of doing anything like that, but maybe it's been a subconscious thing. I just don't know. I've only pushed her as far as I thought wise. Maybe my judgment's been clouded. Sometimes I blame things on work; I tell myself I'm so busy that I can't be constantly looking over her shoulder—but maybe that's an excuse to mask something else.”

“You can't read so deeply into everything, Savannah.”

“I have to. I want to do what's right.”

“You've been doing what's right—”

“But I'm not helping Susan.”

“She's an adult. You've said it yourself, and I agree. You can only do so much. She has to take command of her own life.”

“But I feel so
badly
for her.”

Jared was working hard to understand. He rarely saw his own brother and was just as happy that way, but Savannah clearly was of a different mold in that regard. “Is she truly miserable?”

“You saw the bottle of scotch under her arm. She could be headed for real trouble if something doesn't give. Thank goodness, Sammy seems to care. He could make the difference. I hope so. I haven't been able to.”

Jared touched her cheek. “You can't do everything, Savannah. If you're a big part of Susan's problem, it would make sense that your efforts don't work.” He grabbed at a lock of her hair. “When am I going to meet her?”

“Soon.”

“When?”

“I don't know.”

“You're not still worried that I'll fall for her over you, are you?”

With a sheepish smile, Savannah shook her head. “I don't think so.”

“So? I want to meet her, and Sam, and Megan.”

“I thought you wanted to keep a low profile.”

“I'm not exactly talking about going up the State House steps and shouting my way onto the front page of the
Journal.
”

“Word spreads. Between Susan and Megan, the grand society of greater Providence could suddenly know that Jared Snow is a gorgeous hunk of man.”

He gave a diffident smile. “Your words. They're biased.” When Savannah shook her head, he said simply, “Maybe I'm ready to take the risk.”

But Savannah wasn't sure she was. “I think,” she said in a smaller voice than before, “that I'd like to keep you to myself a littler longer.”

“You can have me to yourself. No one can take away what we have here or upstairs or at your place. But I want to know what your life's about. I want to know who else is in it.” His voice went deeper. “I want to know what I'm facing.”

He said the last with an intensity in his eyes and in his voice that she hadn't expected. Its implications took her breath away.

C
HAPTER
16

The following Wednesday morning, Sam returned to his house after working around the clock. He found Susan in the living room with a man he didn't know. Smiling her pleasure when he appeared at the door, she quickly went to him and slid an arm around his waist.