Kit didn’t immediately release her, even after the music stopped. Savannah’s smile faded as their eyes met, locked. She wasn’t aware of the other dancers, of the orchestra members moving off the stage for a short break, of anything except Kit’s body pressed close to hers, his mouth hovering inches above her own.
She swallowed hard as her pulse began to race.
Careful, Savannah, she heard the voice of common sense warn her. This isn’t real. It isn’t safe.
But that other voice, the reckless one that had encouraged her to dance with Kit in the first place, said, “Forget safe. This is incredible.”
Very slowly, Kit steadied her, then stepped a few inches away from her. “Have a drink with me?” he asked, his tone again somewhere between a request and a command.
She had to clear her throat before she could speak coherently. “Yes.”
He nodded with the air of a man who was accustomed to having his invitations accepted.
Who was he? Savannah wondered as they made their way back to the table. A high-powered business executive, perhaps? An entertainer? He was certainly good-looking enough. While he looked vaguely familiar, Savannah couldn’t say for certain that she’d ever seen him before.
As he held her chair for her in an old-fashioned gesture that only further entranced her, she decided she didn’t care about details. Tonight he was her pirate— her fantasy—and she wouldn’t let reality intrude.
Kit murmured an order to a server, who returned almost immediately carrying glasses of champagne. Kit sent Savannah a rakish smile as he lifted his glass. “Here’s to dancing beneath the stars,” he said.
She almost sighed. What a memory this evening would make when she returned to the hectic grind of her real life, she thought dreamily. “To fantasies,” she murmured.
Kit’s dark eyes glinted in the candlelight. He raised his glass to his lips. Savannah sipped her own drink, reveling in the heady effervescence. The expensive champagne tasted the way she felt tonight Frivolous. Bubbly.
Intoxicating.
Kit kept his gaze on her face. “Savannah.”
Even her name sounded exotic when he said it. “Yes?”
He shook his head slightly. “Nothing. I just like saying your name.”
Oh, he was good. She could almost feel herself being seduced, right there. She knew she’d have to be careful not to carry the fantasy too. far—-but she wasn’t quite ready to call an end to it just yet.
The musicians returned to the stage and launched smoothly into the opening notes of “As Time Goes By.”
“I love this music,” Savannah murmured, feeling as if she’d drifted back to an earlier, more romantic era.
Kit promptly stood. “Then let’s not waste it,” he said, and held out his hand.
CHRISTOPHER PACE, known to his friends as Kit, couldn’t stop staring at the woman in his arms. He was having a difficult time deciding what it was about her that had enthralled him since the first time he’d seen her, sitting alone on a beach at this resort that seemed filled with couples.
She really was beautiful, he mused. Her honeyblond hair had fallen to below her shoulders when he’d seen her before, and was now twisted into a loose knot at the top of her head that looked as though it would take only a brush of his hand to make it come tumbling down. She wasn’t a girl—closer to thirty than twenty, he guessed—but he liked the way her mature curves had filled her tastefully revealing bathing suit, and were now displayed so enticingly by her floating black dress.
Her face was unlined, complexion close to perfect, and her eyes were a clear, bright blue that seemed very much in keeping with the tropical setting. Her accent was Southern—slow, soft, musical, making him fantasize about warm, lazy days and long, sultry nights.
Kit had known a lot of beautiful women. He’d discovered at an early age that the beauty on the outside didn’t always represent what lay beneath. He’d learned to value a quick mind, a sharp wit and a kind nature much more than a pretty face and figure. And, from his first impression, Savannah seemed to have all of that.
But the attractive packaging didn’t hurt, either, he was honest enough to admit to himself.
The orchestra was playing “Misty” now. Kit rested his cheek lightly against Savannah’s hair and enjoyed the feeling of her moving so sinuously against him. The scent she wore was very light, faintly floral, just enough to tickle his nose and tempt him to bury his face in her throat for a more extensive sampling.
He had to hand it to his pal, Rafe Dancer, the owner of this island resort. Rafe provided his guests with the best of everything. This new, spectacular dance floor was ringed with fragrant flowers and swaying palms, close enough to the beach for the steady rush of waves to provide an exotic undercurrent to the music being played by the small but excellent orchestra.
Kit moved with Savannah into a tight turn that caused her breasts to brush against his chest He winced and put a bit more distance between them.
He was definitely aroused by this woman, Kit realized, amazed at how quickly, and how powerfully the attraction had struck. He’d known from the moment he’d first seen her that he had to meet her, even though he’d come on this impulsive vacation to be alone. He hadn’t been looking for Savannah—but he was very glad that he’d found her.
He had no intention of letting her slip away until he’d had a chance to explore more fully the heady and extraordinary feelings she evoked in him.