Seducing Savannah (Southern Scandals 1)
“Savannah?” he said through the answering machine speaker. “Hi, it’s Kit. Call me when you get in, okay? The number is—”
Savannah lifted the receiver. “I’m here, Kit”
“Oh. Hi. Screening calls?”
“Yes. I didn’t particularly want to answer questions about your newest Hollywood deal.”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before Kit asked, “Who’s been asking you about my new deal?”
“Some guy named Burger. He’s a reporter for—”
“The Universal News,” Kit finished with her. “He’s a major pest. How did he find out about you?”
“Apparently, he has a friend on the staff of the Campbellville Courier. A friend who seemed to think I would have something of interest to tell.”
“Or sell,” Kit added grimly. “What did you say to him?”
“Only that I had nothing to say to him.”
“I’m sorry, Savannah. I really didn’t expect this so soon.”
She mulled over his wording for a moment. “But you did expect it eventually.”
“Yes. I knew there would be some passing interest in our relationship, particularly now, with this new deal pending. I told you, I’m the flavor of the month. Until someone more entertaining comes along—and that could be tomorrow or next week or next month or whenever—the tabs are going to try to find juicy tidbits to report on me.”
“I don’t particularly like being a ‘juicy tidbit.”
“I didn’t expect you to,” he replied wryly. “I was hoping you’d have time to prepare before it happened.”
Savannah wasn’t sure she would ever have enough time to prepare for that kind of exposure.
“It’s okay, love. We’ll find a way to deal with this.”
She couldn’t decide whether to concentrate more on his words or on the endearment. This was the second time he’d called her “love.” Was that just something he said to the women in his life—or did he mean it?
“You’ve had more experience with this sort of thing than I have,” she said finally. “’What can I expect? Are you famous enough that I’m going to have photographers staking out my house hoping to catch a glimpse of you here?”
“I wouldn’t think so,” he said slowly, though he didn’t sound quite certain enough to please Savannah. “I’m not really a photo celebrity. The bounty-hunter photographers don’t shadow me the way they do actor and singers. Right now, they’re more interested in the details of my new movie deal. They smell money.”
Savannah didn’t even want to know how much money was involved in the new deal. Kit’s fame was intimidating enough. His fortune might petrify her.
“I can’t help worrying about it,” she told him. “It’s not just my own distaste for publicity. I have to protect my children. Can you understand that?”
“Sweetheart, I’ve known from the night I arrived in Campbellville and saw you with your kids that they would always come first with you. As far as I’m concerned, that’s only something else to admire about you. We won’t let them be hurt.”
He spoke so confidently, as if it would be easy to make sure Michael and Miranda were protected from any unpleasantness. From disappointment and embarrassment, from heartache and disillusion.
Savannah wished she could believe it was that simple.
Kit seemed to think the subject was settled. “I called to tell you that I should be able to get back there on Friday. Are you free Friday evening?”
Torn between the urgings of her mind and her heart, Savannah fought a brief internal battle before saying, “Yes. I’m free.”
“Great Let’s take the “family out to dinner. Someplace nice. Your mother, too, of course.”
‘Trying to soften her up?” Savannah asked dryly.
“Yeah. Think an expensive dinner will help?”