Seducing Savannah (Southern Scandals 1)

Kit nodded grimly. “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

“Good luck.”

“For what it’s worth,” Kit said from the open doorway, “I respect your integrity, Rafe. I always have.”

“Thank you, Kit Be sure and let Ms. McBride know that I guarded her privacy, will you?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll—” Kit froze for a moment, suddenly aware of what Rafe had done.

“Thank you.”

His face hard, Rafe jerked his chin toward the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a great deal of work to do. Come back to the island any time, Kit. You’re always a welcome guest here.”

Kit nodded. “Maybe I’ll come back for my honeymoon,” he said flippantly, and then slipped out the office door before he made a further fool out of himself.

McBride. Savannah McBride, from Georgia.

Kit would find her if he had to work his way through every McBride in the whole damned state.

SAVANNAH’S FAMILY was waiting to meet her when she deplaned in Atlanta.

Miranda was wearing too much makeup, Savannah thought immediately, wincing at the sight of her thirteen-year-old daughter’s colorfully painted face. Miranda’s twin, Michael, stood slightly behind the others, his expression indicating that something had displeased him. Probably something his sister had said, Savannah thought with a stifled sigh. Her children hadn’t been getting along very well lately, and the few days they’d just spent with their sometimes difficult grandmother probably hadn’t helped things between them.

Savannah’s mother, Ernestine Pratt McBride, wore an expression similar to her grandson’s. Savannah recognized that look immediately. Ernestine was doing all she could to look as though a few days with her grandchildren had utterly exhausted her, just to make Savannah feel guilty about taking a vacation on her own.

This time, it wasn’t going to work. Savannah had needed the time away. Needed the rest, the peace, the temporary escape from stress. She’d needed the sheer fun she’d had with Kit, though he’d probably had no idea how much their time togeth

er had meant to her.

But she couldn’t think about Kit now. Not if she didn’t want her family to suspect something important had happened to her during the last few days—unfortunately, something that couldn’t last.

She reached her children first, and opened her arms to them. Miranda rushed right up for a hug, chattering a mile a minute about everything that had happened to her while Savannah had been gone. Michael responded a bit more sedately, but his hug was tight enough to let Savannah know that he had missed her.

Ernestine unbent enough to kiss her daughter’s cheek. “Your vacation must have been good for you,” she acknowledged rather reluctantly. “Looks like you got some rest.”

“I did. And it felt great Now I’d like to treat you to a nice dinner to thank you for taking care of the kids for me.”

Ernestine’s expression brightened. “There’s that new Italian place I’ve been wanting to try while we’re here in Atlanta. The one where all the celebrities eat when they come to town.”

Savannah thought of her travel-wrinkled clothes and severely dented bank account. She would have preferred to go straight home to Campbellville— nearly an hour’s drive away—take a long, hot bath and fall face-first into bed. But she knew what it took to keep her mother happy. After all, she’d been doing it for so very long.

“All right, Mother. If that’s where you’d like to eat, that’s fine with me.”

With only a slight pang, she pushed her tropical memories to the back of her mind, tucked the flower pin safely into her purse, and stepped back into her real life.

SAVANNAH HAD TO WORK on her birthday. She managed to smile as her co-workers at the construction company feted her with gifts and teasing remarks about turning thirty.

By the time she climbed out of her car in her garage that evening, she was exhausted from being gracious. She had decided that it was a lot less tiring to put in a full day’s work than to spend eight hours celebrating a birthday.

But the celebration wasn’t over. As soon as she opened the door to the house she shared with her children and her mother, she heard the twins sing out, “Happy birthday!”

Savannah pasted on her tired, birthday-girl smile and pushed wistful thoughts of a long, hot bath to the back of her mind. It would be a while yet before she could enjoy such solitary luxury.

Ernestine prepared dinner for Savannah’s birthday celebration at home. Afterward, the twins cleaned the kitchen with a minimum of squabbling—a rare concession in honor of the occasion. And then they insisted that Savannah open her gifts.

Ernestine gave her daughter a collection of expensive, scented lotions and creams designed to hide the signs of aging. Knowing what was expected of her, Savannah acted suitably thrilled to receive the gift.

She fully expected to see the charge for the gift on her next credit-card statement. Savannah had provided the sole support for her mother and children since Ernestine—still several years from retirement age—had developed a lung infection two years ago and had since declared herself too delicate to return to work.