Savannah Clark wondered as she came to the end of her short journey down the aisle and stepped to the side. Would there be a man waiting for her someday, looking the way Devin did right at this moment? A little dazed, a little dazzled, and very much in love?
God, but she hoped so.
Just as Savannah turned and the Wedding March swelled, she saw him.
Cruz Perez had been looking at her. Their eyes met, touched, and she saw his smile. Felt his smile. That wide, sexy, scintillating smile that had made her lose her head, and perhaps her heart, for the space of a night three months ago at baby Bryan’s christening party.
And perhaps, for even more than that.
Just as before, Cruz made her feel as if she were the only one there besides him. A very neat trick, considering just how many people had arrived at the ranch northwest of San Antonio to be crowded in neat rows of folding chairs set up before the altar. They were there to see the wedding of one of Ryan Fortune’s twin daughters.
With a supreme effort, Savannah looked away from Cruz and toward the bride—her best friend from college. But she could still feel his intense gaze upon her. Color rose to her cheeks, but she kept her eyes riveted to the back of the house, where Vanessa was making her entrance.
Looking like a dapper, proud lion Ryan Fortune solemnly walked down the aisle with his daughter on his arm. But it was Vanessa who immediately stole everyone’s attention, in her beautiful, formfitting long white lace gown with its delicate Spanish lace veil that eloquently trailed after her. The handmade veil represented something borrowed as well as something old. Cruz’s mother Rosita, the Fortune’s housekeeper had worn it herself forty years ago, when she had married Ruben. It had been a gift to her from Vanessa’s own mother, Janine Fortune— Ryan’s late first wife.
Now it was a tradition, Savannah mused. A lovely tradition. Vanessa would probably pass it on to her daughters when the time came.
And what would she pass on to her child? What sort of tradition could she give to a baby who was starting out life with only one parent, its very identity a secret that couldn’t be shared?
Not now Savannah ordered herself sternly.
This wasn’t the time for sad thoughts, only happy ones. She wished her hormones would stop swinging back and forth like a pendulum running amok, and just settle down to an even tempo. Pregnancy was making her lose her bearings; she wasn’t accustomed to being like this.
Savannah stepped a little further to the side as Vanessa reached the altar that Cruz and his father had finished erecting only hours earlier. Vanessa gave up her bouquet to Savannah, a look filled with friendship and memories passing between them. Savannah was surprised to discover that Vanessa’s fingertips were icy. She couldn’t picture Vanessa afraid of anything.
Marriage was a big step and even if you were sure, you were still nervous, Savannah suddenly realized.
“Good luck,” she mouthed. Vanessa brightened.
The soft buzzing behind them stopped, and the legion of guests fell silent as Reverend Callaway began to speak the words that would forever seal Vanessa and Devin to one another as husband and wife.
Savannah felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she listened to the precious vows—promises of a lifetime together. She remembered eyes that had made promises to her.
Promises that completely undid her that passionate, wonderful day, three months ago.
Savannah’s mind had heard and understood the risks of falling for someone like Cruz. But her heart, well, her heart had been a completely different matter.
She tried to protect her heart now by holding back the memories, but they came anyway, like a flood that no barrier could hold at bay….
“Would you like to dance?”
Five simple words, tendered politely, that were destined to seal Savannah’s fate. They had come floating to her, uttered by a voice that had just the smallest whisper of a Mexican accent.
All around her, couples were having a good time, dancing at Bryan Fortune’s christening party. Savannah had always loved music, but had never had the time to learn how to dance. She was content now to stand on the sidelines and listen.
But she never got a chance to refuse Cruz. Even as she turned around to face him, he was taking her hand in his and leading her to the dance floor that he had helped construct.
A small wave of panic swept through her. She hated looking like a fool. “Wait, I didn’t say yes,” she protested.
Facing her, Cruz was already taking her into his arms. “Oh, but you did. With your eyes.” He fitted her body against his in a provocative move that was smoother than silk. Resting her hand against his chest, he smiled into her eyes. “I always pay very close attention to a lady’s eyes. They tell me things she doesn’t trust her mouth to say.”
Savannah could feel her pulse accelerating and wondered if it was because of the wine she’d had, or the man she was with. For now, it was enough just to savor the thrill.
“Such as?”
The smile that curved his full, sensuous mouth cut clear down to her bones. “Such as— Yes, I would love to dance with you instead of standing here, only swaying to the music.”
He was right, but she felt as if she had to protest. “I was not swaying.”
His eyes laughed at her, and instantly she found herself being charmed. “Oh, but you were. I’ve been watching you for a while now.”
She tried very hard not to be flattered but knew that the effort was doomed to failure. After all, he could have been with anyone yet, he’d made his way to her without any encouragement on her part. She would have been less than human if some of the pride that her recent broken engagement had shredded so badly hadn’t responded to that.
Even though she could feel electricity humming between them, she tried to keep the moment light. Amusement tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Nothing better to do than to watch a woman keeping time to the music?”
Cruz leaned his head against hers. “Nothing.”
He breathed the word so enticingly that every nerve ending along her body stood up in response. Savannah felt as if she were floating, not just across the floor, but all around. She felt as if everything within her had suddenly come awake again after a very long, troubled sleep.
Awake and aroused.
She struggled very hard to keep things in perspective, but even then she sensed she was doomed to lose.
They danced several dances together—danced and talked. With each new dance, he subtly moved her farther away from the crowd. And closer to him.
“Tell me, why does a lovely woman like you find herself alone at such a lavish party?”
“But I’m not alone.” Feeling suddenly very light-headed, and maybe just a little giddy, she decided to play along and match Cruz, move for move, on a chessboard designed for sensuality and verbal foreplay. “I’m with you.”
“Yes,
