The One-Night Wife Page 13

  His need for her was almost overpowering.

  But he couldn't, wouldn't let her know that. She wasn't herself. She was in pain. In despair. She was weeping. He'd done so many wrong things since they'd met, he wasn't going to add taking advantage of her to the list.

  "Sweetheart." His voice was so rough he was amazed he could talk at all. Carefully, he held her by the shoulders and took a single step back. "Savannah. Let me just...let me just—"

  "Sean," she whispered and rose to him, clasping his face, bringing his mouth to hers, and he was lost.

  A torrent of desire flooded his senses. He groaned and swung her into his arms, never taking his mouth from hers as he carried her into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed that was still warm from her body.

  When he drew back, she gave a little cry of distress and he took her hands and pressed kisses into the palms.

  "Are you sure?" he whispered.

  "I've never been surer of anything in my life." Tears still glittered on her lashes, but her lips curved in a smile. "Make love to me, Sean. Please."

  He undressed her slowly, kissing each bit of skin as he bared it to his mouth. Her sighs, her moans, the beat of his heart became the only sounds in the universe.

  When she was naked, he spent a long moment just look­ing at her, the delicacy of her breasts, the gentle rounding of her belly, the gold of her skin, but she stirred uneasily and when his gaze moved to her face, he saw a shadow in her eyes. Wariness. Trepidation.

  Fear.

  Was she afraid of what he might do to her? Had Beau­mont...? No. He wasn't going to think about that son of a bitch. Not now. Now, all that mattered was Savannah.

  "Savannah," he whispered urgently, "don't be afraid. I'll never hurt you."

  She shook her head. "I'm not afraid of you. But—but there's something I should tell you—"

  "No," he said, silencing her with a kiss. What she was going to say, that she'd been with a lot of other men, that some of them had done things... He didn't want to hear it. Didn't need to hear it. All he needed was this. Her mouth. Her breasts. The way he could make her breath catch when he licked her nipples. The way she moaned when he slid his hands under her, lifted her to him, kissed her belly, her thighs.

  "Sean. Oh God, Sean..."

  She was trembling again, but not with fear. With passion. The intensity of her need for him filled him with joy. This was how he wanted her. Open to him. Wanting him.

  Him. Only him.

  He kept his eyes on hers as parted her thighs. She moaned; her eyes went wide as he stroked a finger over her labia. She cried out, jolted like a filly who'd never before carried a rider.

  "Sweet," he whispered. "So sweet..."

  Slowly, carefully, he opened her to him. Breathed lightly against the waiting bud that had bloomed for him. Kissed it. Caressed it, and suddenly she arched like a bow. Her cry soared into the heavens and she sobbed his name.

  Sean pulled off his clothes and came down to her. Caught her hands, entwined his fingers with hers, watched her face, her beautiful face, as he moved between her thighs and en­tered her...

  And discovered that his lover was a virgin.

  The realization shocked him into immobility. "Savan­nah?"

  A world of questions were in that one word. Savannah understood them all and knew she'd have to provide an­swers but for now, only one mattered.

  "Sean." She sighed his name, lifted her head and bit lightly into his shoulder. The taste of man and musk quick­ened the race of her already-galloping heart. ' 'Please. Make love to me."

  Groaning with pleasure, Sean slid into her warmth and took her with him to the stars.

  They lay tangled together, breathing raggedly, a fine film of sweat drying on their skin.

  "You're a virgin," he said in wonderment.

  "Not anymore," she said softly, her lips curving at the awe in his voice, at the joy in her heart, and felt his lips curve, too, against her throat.

  "You should have told me."

  "Oh, sure. There's always an easy way to bring some­thing like that into the conversation."

  "I'd have gone slower."

  "Mmm. Slower sounds nice."

  Her words were a teasing purr. Sean smiled again and bit lightly into her flesh.

  "Are you all right?"

  "Yes." She moved beneath him, stretching like a cat. "I'm very all right."

  He lifted his head. Her face was inches from his. Her eyes glowed and her smile would definitely have tempted Da Vinci. She looked sated and happy, and his heart did a little two-step of absolute male satisfaction.

  "I'm glad. Still, if I'd known..."

  "Would you have believed me?"

  A muscle knotted in his jaw. After a couple of seconds, he turned on his side but kept his arm tightly around her.

  "No."

  Savannah nodded. His honesty was one of the things she liked about Sean O'Connell. It was a rare quality.

  "I'm sorry, Savannah. I know you wanted me to say I would have, but—"

  She rolled toward him and put her finger across his mouth. "Don't apologize for speaking the truth. Of course you wouldn't have believed me." She traced the outline of his lips. "Why on earth would you?"

  Sean sucked her finger between his teeth and bit down gently. Then he took her hand from his mouth and kissed it.

  "So, he isn't—"

  "No." Savannah shuddered. "God, no. He's not."

  "Then, what is he to you? Your business partner?"

  "Alain is...Alain was—" she said, hastily correcting the error "—he was my friend."

  ' 'Beaumont?''

  She could hear the incredulity in his voice. She couldn't blame him. The man Alain had recently revealed himself to be couldn't be anyone's friend, but the Alain she knew— the one she thought she knew—was different.

  "I met him a long time ago," she said, propping herself on her elbows so she could see Sean's face. "He was—he was good to me."

  "Oh, yeah. He sounded like he was being good to you the other night, all right. Almost as good as the night he sent you to seduce me."

  "He didn't tell me to—to go to bed with you that night," Savannah said quickly.

  "No," Sean said coldly. "He just told you to keep me so busy thinking about taking you to bed that I wouldn't concentrate on the game."

  "He's changed. The Alain I knew... That Alain isn't there anymore."

  The Alain she'd thought she knew, Sean told himself, and what did she mean, he'd been good to her? From the little he'd seen, Beaumont treated her like dirt.

  "How was he good to you?"

  "What?"

  "You said he was good to you. I'm trying to figure out how."

  There was an edge to his voice. He wanted explanations but how could she give them? She wasn't ready to talk to him about Missy or the way she and her sister had lived. Lying naked in the arms of a man she hardly knew seemed less intimate than telling him the ugly details of her life.

  "He just was," she said stiffly, and started to pull away. Sean drew her close again.

  "I'm sorry."

  "Let me up, please."

  "No." Gently, he pushed her onto her back. "I'm a fool," he said gruffly, "talking about Beaumont when we have so many other things to discuss."

  He kissed her. She tried not to respond but he kissed her again and she felt her resolve slipping.

  "What things?" she said softly, brushing his hair back from his forehead.

  "Important things." His voice grew husky. "The way you taste." He kissed her again, gently parting her lips with his. "I love the way you taste."

  She smiled. "Do you?"

  "Uh-huh. Your mouth." He dipped his head, touched the tip of his tongue to the hollow in her throat. ' 'Your throat.'' He dipped his head again and licked one nipple, then the other. "And your breasts. You have beautiful breasts, Sa­vannah."

  Her breath caught as his teeth closed lightly on one pink bud. "When you do that...when you do that..."

  "I l
ove the feel of your nipples on my tongue."

  "Oh God. Sean..."

  "What?"

  He looked up. Her eyes were becoming dark; the color in her face was rising. Her skin was turning warm and fra­grant and his heart was doing flip-flops in his chest. He brought his mouth to hers, whispered his desire.

  "Savannah. I want to make love to you again."

  She cupped his face, kissed him, openmouthed, sighed his name against his lips.

  "Is it too soon? I don't want to hurt you."

  "You won't. Not by making love to me. I want you to. I want—"

  She cried out as he slipped his hand between her thighs.

  "This?" he said thickly. "Is this what you want?"

  "Yes. That. Oh, and that. And—and—"

  He entered her on one long, deep thrust. She sobbed his name and wrapped her legs around his waist. He moved and the world shattered, shattered again as she took him deeper inside her. And when he threw back his head, cried out and exploded inside her, Savannah wept, not with sorrow but with joy.

  Why had she thought this man was a stranger? How could he be, when she had waited a lifetime to find him?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Savannah came awake slowly, her muscles filled with a delicious lassitude. Eyes still closed, she reached for Sean...

  And found the space beside her empty. Sean was gone, and from the feel of the linens, he'd been gone for quite a while.

  She sat up against the headboard, clutching the duvet to her breasts. In the air-conditioned silence of the room, she felt the sudden chill of being alone...and the foolishness of what she'd done last night.

  What time was it? Ten o'clock, at least. The sun slanting in through the blinds had the feel of midmorning. Was that the reason she felt so disoriented? Or was it because she'd spent the night in bed with a man she barely knew?

  Savannah closed her eyes. What on earth had she been thinking?

  Quickly, she swung her feet to the floor.

  Sleeping with Sean had only made things more confused. He already had a low opinion of her. What had happened surely wouldn't have made it better. Plus, he'd hired her to do a job. There was nothing personal in the make-believe story they were going to create.

  By now, he was sure to have as many regrets as she did. Or—or maybe she was wrong. Maybe making love hadn't been a mistake.

  "You're awake."

  One look at Sean and she knew she'd had it right the first time.

  He stood in the doorway, beautiful enough to make her skin prickle and removed enough to make his thoughts ap­parent. Arms folded, feet crossed at the ankles, his smile polite and remote, she knew immediately that he regretted what had happened.

  So be it.

  "Yes." She forced an answering smile as she drew the covers nearer her chin. "Sorry to have slept so late."

  He shrugged. "No problem."

  "You probably have a million things to do and here I am, keeping you from them."

  Another shrug. "We have all day."

  "Right." She hesitated. How long could you hold a smile until the muscles in your face froze? "Well, if you give me a few minutes—"

  "Sure."

  But he didn't move. Did he expect her to get up in front of him? Head for the bathroom, naked? It wasn't going to happen.

  Enough. Savannah narrowed her eyes.

  "I'd appreciate some privacy."

  "Oh." He stood away from the door jamb and nodded. "I'll be in the sitting room."

  "Fine. Ten minutes, I'll be out of your way."

  "You're not in—"

  "Oh, give me a break," she snapped, her patience gone. "Yes, I'm in your way. Yes, we're wasting time. The sooner you leave, the sooner I can get moving."

  Something flickered across his face. Discomfort? Embarrassment? Whatever it was, she didn't give a damn. All she wanted was to see his back as he closed the door behind him.

  "Uh, the stuff we bought... It got here a while ago."

  "What? Oh. The clothes." Somehow, the thought of that stack of boxes, all of them holding things he'd purchased to turn her into someone she wasn't, made her feel angrier. "Fine. You pick out something you'd like me to wear and leave it on the chair, okay?"

  "The clothes are yours, Savannah. You make the choice."

  "They're not mine."

  "Damn it, what is this? I come in to say good morning and next thing I know, I'm involved in an argument." His jaw shot forward. "They're yours," he said coldly. "Is that clear?"

  "A lot of things are clear," she said, just as coldly. "Funny how daylight can make that happen."

  "What the hell are you talking about?''

  "Oh, for God's sake! Will you just get out of here?"

  His mouth thinned. "Yeah. I'll do that."

  The door closed with a bang. She grabbed a pillow and flung it across the room. She hadn't expected roses and champagne this morning but O'Connell could have been a little nicer. Couldn't he have pretended that last night—that last night—

  Savannah shot to her feet. "To hell with you, Sean O'Connell," she muttered, hating herself for sounding as if she were going to burst into tears.

  The duvet tangled around her legs as she stomped toward the bathroom and she tugged at it without mercy, which only made things worse. Words she'd learned years ago on the New Orleans streets hissed from her lips just as the door flew open.

  "Damn you, Savannah McRae," Sean said, and pulled her roughly into his arms.

  "Let me go. O'Connell, I swear, if you don't let me go—"

  "Shut up," he commanded, tunneling his hands into her hair, holding her face to his so he could kiss her. His mouth was hot, his kisses deep and dangerous and with a little cry, she gave up fighting and kissed him back.

  "I'm sorry," he whispered, his lips a breath from hers.

  "So am I. I thought you regretted last night."

  Sean kissed her again. "I did," he said bluntly, framing her face with his hands. "I told myself making love was a mistake. That we should have stuck to business." His eyes dropped to her parted lips, then met hers again. "It took a while before I was ready to admit the only mistake I've made since the minute I saw you was trying to pretend I didn't want you."

  Savannah gave a watery smiie. "Me, too," she said, and rose on her toes to press her mouth to his.

  Long moments later, Sean clasped her hands, kissed them and brought them to his chest.

  "I took your virginity."

  "No," she said, shaking her head. "I gave it to you."

  His smile was soft and sweet. "I almost went crazy sitting out there, telling myself what a bastard I was." His voice roughened. "Truth is, I'm glad you did. It means everything to me, sugar, knowing you gave me such a gift."

  "Sometimes—sometimes I used to think it was the only part of me that was still worth anything, you know? That I'd done so many things over the years—"

  He silenced her with another tender kiss. ''I haven't been an angel, either. Besides, the one thing I'm certain of is that whatever you've done, you did because you had to."

  Sighing, she let him draw her close against him, closed her eyes under the restful stroke of his hand down her spine.

  "You're a good man, Sean O'Connell."

  A deep laugh rumbled through his chest. "I've been called a lot of things, sweetheart, but that's a first." Gently, he pressed a kiss into her hair. "You know what else I thought about while you were sleeping?" She leaned back in his embrace and shook her head. ' 'I thought how I could stop wasting time regretting something so wonderful, wake you with my kisses and make love to you again."

  "Mmm. Sounds lovely."

  "But—"

  "But?"

  Sean tipped her face up to his. "But," he said, smiling into her eyes, "if we don't eat some real food soon, all my get-up-and-go will have gotten-up-and-gone."

  She laughed. It was, he thought, one of the loveliest sounds he'd ever heard. He touched the tip of his finger to her mouth.

  "Plus, we have an a
ppointment at noon."

  "We do?"

  "Uh-huh. And that means you have little more than an hour to get ready.''

  "I'll be quick."

  His smile turned devastatingly sexy. ' 'We can save time by showering together."

  "I don't think that would work."

  "No. Probably not." He stepped back. "Okay. I'll get those boxes. You take your shower."

  Savannah kissed him, then started for the bathroom, but she turned back when Sean spoke.

  "The thing is," he said gruffly. "The thing is, Savannah, I've been a loner all my life. It's tough, letting somebody in."

  She knew it wasn't a line that would rank high in the annals of romantic declarations but it made the last of her reserve slip away. She knew what it took for him to say such a thing because it was true of her, too. It was the reason she'd panicked when she woke and he wasn't there, why she'd done everything she could to make herself believe the night had been an error.

  Somehow, she kept her tears from flowing. "Yes," she whispered. "I know."

  Sean's face took on a taut, hungry look, "To hell with getting things done quickly," he said, and scooped her into his arms. And, as he carried her to the bed, Savannah knew that what they'd just admitted to each other had the power to heal them both...

  Or to destroy them.

  They had breakfast on the terrace. Afterward, Sean made a phone call. He was changing the time of their appoint­ment, he said, but he wouldn't tell her more until they were in his car, speeding down a narrow dirt road toward the sea.

  "We're meeting with a Realtor," he said casually.

  Savannah stared at him. "You're buying a house?"

  "Sure," he said, as if people decided to buy homes on islands in the Bahamas all the time. He flashed her a quick smile and added that he'd been thinking, on and off, about buying a place here for a while.

  "Ah. So you set up this appointment a while back."

  "Weeks ago."

  It was a lie, though he didn't know why he was lying. He'd made the appointment this morning, even while he paced the living room and tried to figure out what in hell he was getting himself into.