wide smile was gone, replaced by a smaller, more intense one that curled her toes. With the tip of his finger, he toyed with a wisp of hair that fell against her cheek.
“And as a worldly woman, you wouldn’t be offended if I kissed you?”
Was he asking for permission? Savannah’s mouth went dry.
“If you—what?” she barely whispered.
His hands tightened ever so slightly on her shoulders as he brought her closer to him. “I prefer showing to talking.”
She held her breath. Cruz slipped his hands from her shoulders up along the sides of her throat until his fingers gently framed her face. She felt every movement, vibrated with every heartbeat.
Waiting.
Anticipating.
This was so completely out of character for her that, for a brief moment, Savannah was convinced she was actually standing on the sidelines, watching, just like with the dance.
But she wasn’t on the sidelines; she was in the heart of the dance. In the heart of the seduction as it unfurled around her, bit by heated bit.
She melted the moment his lips touched hers, a snowflake unable to keep its shape when it was blown into the path of a sunbeam.
The moan that escaped her lips was a sound of pure surrender.
He deepened the kiss, assaulting her mouth again and again. Savannah shivered as he tugged at the zipper that ran the length of her back. As he drew it all the way down, she felt the dress move away from her body.
And at that moment, she knew there was nothing she could refuse him.
Savannah couldn’t get her bearings. Everything melted into everything else. The stable, the horses, the hay within the stall—all faded from her consciousness. All that there was, was Cruz. Cruz—with his thick, dark hair that flowed to almost the tops of his shoulders. Cruz—with his heartstopping smile, his deep brown eyes that undid her, and his hard, sleek body that quickened her pulse. Cruz—who had the ability to reduce her to a mass of molten desire.
She’d never behaved this way before, never abandoned herself, her common sense, her ethics before. She didn’t believe in casual affairs—in casual anything, for that matter.
Yet here she was, giving herself to a man she’d only danced with. Wanting a man she’d barely met. Feeling as if she’d known him her entire life.
It made no sense. And yet, it was happening.
Each place he touched her quivering body seemed a revelation to her, leaving her bewildered, anticipating, yearning. Though not completely inexperienced, she knew she was merely a dazed novice at his hands. A novice with a thirst for learning.
He made her feel beautiful, like a queen beneath his hand, a wild woman beneath his questing mouth. It was as if every fiber of her body was on fire, and he was fanning the flames.
Explosions racked her body as Cruz skillfully moved his fingers, his lips and his tongue over her. There were points along her body she’d thought harmless, certainly not centers of passion.
Until now.
The skin behind her knees, the space inside her elbow, the hollow of her throat—all these he teased, all these he turned into places of heated desire. And when he moved lower, when he finally drove himself into her, she thought herself too weak, too spent to react.
She was wrong.
Everything that came before was but a warm-up act for a finale that left Savannah sobbing his name, biting her lower lip for fear of screaming and bringing everyone here—to this stable where she felt reborn.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
The words uttered by the minister abruptly drew Savannah back to the wedding. What was wrong with her? This was Vanessa’s moment. She was here to share it with her, not relive one night of passion best forgotten.
Two
“You came back.”
Only ten minutes into the wedding reception, Savannah’s stomach merged with her heart and both instantly raced for her throat. She wasn’t sure just which won the narrow space for its own as she turned around to face Cruz for the first time since that heated encounter in the stables.
Dressed in a black, embroidered western jacket and a light blue shirt that made his complexion that much more romantically olive, Cruz was standing behind her, a glass of punch in each hand.
It must have been her stomach that won the race, Savannah reasoned. Because her heart had stopped. Completely.
Cruz nodded toward the glasses, his smile unfurling like warm brandy sipped slowly on a cold day. “I seem to find myself with two glasses. Would you like to help me out and take one?”
She became aware that she was smiling in return. Widely. Savannah reminded herself that there was absolutely no reason for her to behave like a tongue-tied adolescent. Yes, he was beautiful, and yes, they had made wild, wonderful, passionate love together. But in the greater scheme of things, that meant nothing.
Nothing, except that their night of lovemaking had produced a baby. A baby she wasn’t ever going to let Cruz know was his. Because she would never tie him to her. Not with bonds—like her parents—forged out of guilt.
Savannah inclined her head as she took the glass. “I guess I could, just this once.”
She looked at the way the red punch caught the sun within it and gleamed invitingly. Almost as invitingly as Cruz’s eyes had that night.
And now.
She raised her eyes to his. “And why wouldn’t I come back for my best friend’s wedding?”
“No reason.” He shrugged. His eyes traveled over the soft contours of her face. Savannah felt as if he were actually touching her. “Except that you left so quickly the last time we were together. When I woke, you were gone. I thought that perhaps it was something I’d said. Or done.”
His smile was so sensual that she struggled to keep her mind on the conversation.
Yes, it was something you’d done. You completely unraveled me, made me behave so that I didn’t even recognize myself. And then made me want more.
Savannah took a long sip before she spoke, her throat suddenly too parched to house dust.
“I had to get back.” She purposely looked past his head as she spoke. “I had papers to grade. It was the end of the semester—the end of the year,” she corrected, silently chastising herself for stumbling.
But while she’d always been very self-assured in her chosen professional life as an elementary school teacher, her personal one, especially since Reese had left, was another matter entirely. Even before Reese had broken her heart by breaking off their engagement, she had never been very experienced when it came to men.
That was probably why he’d strayed and ultimately
