either, when he broke the bad news. “That bridge is the only route between here and your place.”
“I can’t get home?” Her voice was shaky and its pitch rose.
“Not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. The bridge is in danger of washing out. I could possibly make it across in my truck, but the weight of this thing could compromise the bridge and send us downriver.”
“So what do I do for the next couple of days? Camp out in my office until the bridge is safe again?”
“That won’t be necessary.” Blake groaned internally. Savannah wasn’t going to like the alternative. “My house is up the hill a little ways back.”
“You think I’m staying at your house? Overnight?” She narrowed her gaze at him. As if he’d orchestrated the rain, her staying late and the bridge threatening to wash out.
“You don’t really have another choice, Savannah.” He studied her as she weighed the options.
She pulled the jacket around her tightly as she assessed the road in front of them, then the road behind them. “Seems I don’t have much of a choice.”
A knot tightened in the pit of Blake’s stomach. He’d hoped that she would be stubborn enough to insist on returning to the office. That he wouldn’t be tortured by Savannah Carlisle being off-limits and sleeping under his roof.
“Okay then.” He shifted the truck into Reverse, turned around and headed back to the narrow road that led to the exclusive community where he and Zora owned homes.
As they ascended the hill, the handful of houses around the lake came into view. A bolt of lightning arced in the sky.
Savannah flinched once, then again at the deafening thunder. She was trying to play it cool, but her hands were clenched into fists. She probably had nail prints on her palms.
Why was she so frightened by the storm?
He wanted to know, but the question felt too personal. And everything about Savannah Carlisle indicated she didn’t do personal. She kept people at a safe distance.
She’d politely refused every social invitation extended to her since she’d joined the company. Some of his employees hadn’t taken her repeated rejections so well.
He’d tried not to do the same. After all, distance from her was exactly what he needed.
When they arrived at his house, he pulled inside the garage.
“You’re sure this won’t cause trouble? I mean, if anyone found out...” A fresh wave of panic bloomed across her beautiful face. “It wouldn’t look good for either of us.”
“No one else knows. Besides, any decent human being would do the same,” he assured her. “Would you prefer I’d left you in the parking lot on your own?”
“I’m grateful you didn’t.” Her warm gaze met his. “I just don’t want to cause trouble...for either of us.”
“It’s no trouble,” Blake lied. He hopped down from the cab of the truck, then opened her door.
She regarded his extended hand reluctantly. Finally, she placed her palm in his and allowed him to help her down.
Blake stilled for a moment, his brain refusing to function properly. Savannah was sopping wet. Her makeup was washed away by the rain, with the exception of the black mascara running down her face. Yet she looked no worse for the wear.
Her tawny skin was punctuated by a series of freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks.
Something about the discovery of that small detail she’d hidden from the world thrilled him.
His gaze dropped to her lips, and a single, inappropriate thought filled his brain.
Kiss her. Now.
She slipped her icy hand from his, slid the jacket from her shoulders and returned it to him.
“Thank you.” He tossed it into the back seat and shut the door.
When he turned to Savannah she was shivering again.
He rubbed his hands up and down her arms to warm her before his brain could remind him that was an inappropriate gesture, too.
Her searing gaze made the point clear.
“Sorry... I...” Blake stepped away, his face heated. He ran a hand through his wet hair.
“I appreciate the gesture. But what I’d really love is a hot shower and a place to sleep.”
“Of course.” Blake shrugged off his wet rain slicker. He hung it on a hook, then closed the garage door. “Hope you’re not afraid of dogs.”
“Not particularly.”
“Good.” Blake dropped his waterlogged shoes by the door to the house. When he opened it, his two dogs surrounded him, yapping until he petted each of their heads. They quickly turned their attention to Savannah.
“Savannah Carlisle, meet Sam—” He indicated the lean Italian greyhound who, while peering intently at Savannah, hadn’t left his side. “He’s a retired racing greyhound I rescued about five years ago.”
“Hello, Sam.”
“And that nosy fella there is Benny the labradoodle.” Blake indicated the rust-and-beige dog yapping at her feet, demanding her attention.
“Hi, Benny.” Savannah leaned down and let the dog sniff her hand, then petted his head. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Benny seemed satisfied with her greeting. He ran back inside with Sam on his heels.
“Did you rescue Benny, too?”
“No.” Blake swallowed past the knot that formed in his throat when he remembered the day he’d brought Benny home as a pup.
He’d bought Benny as a surprise for his ex. Only she’d had a surprise of her own. She was leaving him for someone else.
“Oh.” Savannah didn’t inquire any further, for which he was grateful.
Blake turned on the lights and gestured inside. “After you.”
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