KIT’S STEPS took on a new intricacy as they grew increasingly comfortable dancing together. Savannah concentrated on following him, which wasn’t particularly difficult since he was so very good.
“You’re better at this than I am,” she admitted ruefully, smiling up at him.
His answering grin was a flash of dimples and a gleam of white teeth. “Just hold on tight,” he said suggestively. “We’ve got all night to practice.”
And then he spun her into several tight turns that made her cling to him and laugh softly. With only a few words of encouragement and the guiding support of his hands, Kit soon had Savannah feeling like Ginger Rogers. She’d never felt freer or happier in her life.
This was a memory she would treasure forever.
The musicians took another short break, during which Savannah had another glass of champagne with Kit. He sat very close to her this time, and rested his hand on the back of her chair, so that his fingertips brushed her nape when she moved.
Each time he touched her, she felt a quiver of awareness race down her spine. Though the ocean breeze that fanned her exposed skin was pleasantly cool, she was growing increasingly warm, the heat sizzling deep inside her.
It felt good, she decided. A bit frightening, but good.
She was going to have to be very careful with this man, she thought as they returned to the dance floor.
After a few upbeat numbers that stretched Savannah’s newfound dance talent to the limits, the orchestra slid into a slower, more leisurely song. Kit pulled Savannah close, sliding both his arms around her waist so that hers had nowhere to go except around his neck. Taking advantage of the opportunity to catch her breath, she rested her cheek against his silk-covered shoulder, barely swaying with him in time to the music.
“Mmm,” she murmured in pleasure. “I like this number.”
Kit turned, and she followed effortlessly. “‘I Have Dreamed,’” he whispered against her ear. ‘It’s one of my parents’ favorites. They love to dance.”
His voice softened when he spoke of his parents, and Savannah found herself even more drawn to him, if that was possible. She wondered a bit wistfully if her parents had ever danced in the moonlight. She couldn’t imagine her straitlaced and repressed mother indulging in such a frivolously romantic evening.
Savannah decided not to think of her mother just then.
The few other couples remaining on the dance floor were very quiet, moving dreamily in rhythm to the romantic music. Without pausing between numbers, the musicians began a song Savannah recognized immediately.
“Star Dust,” she murmured.
Kit nodded against her hair. “One of my favorites.”
A man who loved old songs, looked like a movie idol, and danced like Fred Astaire. Was it any wonder Savannah was all but melting in his arms? She couldn’t have imagined a more perfect fantasy.
Inevitably, it was time for the idyll
to end. “Midnight,” Kit said with a glance at his watch as the musicians left the stage and the waiters began to clear the tables. The other couples were already drifting back to their cozy cabins.
Savannah swallowed a sigh. The time had flown by so quickly, she thought with a touch of regret. But now it had to end.
She brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face and smiled at Kit. “It’s been a lovely evening,” she said. “Thank you for making it so special.”
“I’ll walk you to your room,” he offered immediately.
She bit her lip. She didn’t want this almost perfect interlude to end with an awkward encounter at her door. If Kit was expecting to spend the rest of the night dancing between her sheets, she would have to disappoint him. As attractive as he was, she simply couldn’t tumble into bed with a handsome stranger she’d known for only one evening.
No matter how spectacular she sensed it would be.
He seemed to read her expression. “I don’t expect you to invite me in,” he promised a bit gruffly. “I’d just like to see you safely to your door.”
Though Savannah had felt perfectly safe ever since she’d arrived at this exclusive resort, she didn’t bother to argue. She merely nodded, deciding to trust Kit to continue to be the gentleman he’d been so far.
He took her right hand, slipped it beneath his left elbow and held it there in a courtly manner befitting the tone of their magical evening. And then he began to walk down the comfortably lighted path in the direction of the guest cabins, setting a casual pace that Savannah had no trouble matching in her strappy heels.
The evening air was cool against her flushed skin. The light breeze was heavy with exotic fragrances, reminding her again of how far she was from home. How free she was to enjoy this romantic interlude.
She was so glad now that she’d dared to be irresponsible and impulsive and self-indulgent for the first time in almost longer than she could remember. She needed this vacation.