Page 25 of The One-Night Wife

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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.


Tags: Sandra Marton Billionaire Romance