Page 65 of Love Me Tomorrow

Hell, if I had any say, I’d go the route of Peggy’s husband, orgasm and all.

In the end, I only step back, letting my arm fall uselessly to my side while Savannah sweeps past me with her head held high like a queen prepared to mingle with the commoners.

The concern hardens, my hackles rising at her aloofness. The heiress mask is back in place with a vengeance.

“How’d you know I was here?”

Over her shoulder, she says, “Gage via Lizzie.”

Good to know my brother and sister-in-law are all too willing to spread my whereabouts like a hot-priced discount on Black Friday.

I close the door behind me with the heel of my foot.

If I wasn’t so attuned to her, I may have missed her slight hesitation at the sight of the half-decorated living room. Turning in a semi-circle, her gaze lands on the vintage sideboard table that I found online, then refinished myself, in an effort to match it with the rest of the furniture. It took me a full weekend last month, but I’m proud of the way it looks.

As though she’s not even aware of doing so, her palm grazes the sideboard’s wooden surface a heartbeat before her eyes move to the brass, circular mirror positioned above it.

In it, her steady gaze collides with mine.

I’d be lying if I say that one look doesn’t make my damn heart pitch forward in my chest.

I want her eyes on me. Always. It’s been that way since the day we met.

Slipping my thumbs through the front belt loops of my jeans, I dip my chin. “Want a beer? Tap water?” I don’t keep much stocked in the fridge here, since I only come by when it’s time to work on the house—or, alternatively, when I need to escape the city by jumping in my boat and feeling the waves crest beneath the hull. Probably why it’s taken me longer than usual to finish this house and get it posted on short-term rental sites online. Nothing beats the tranquility of living on the water. “Wish I had some of that chardonnay you like so much, but I wasn’t expecting company.”

It’s a pointed comment, but Savannah only slips the purse off her shoulder and drops it on the sideboard. “I wasn’t expecting for my sister to drop a bomb on me the way she did today, either, so it looks like we’re rocking the same boat.”

It’s a sexual innuendo if I’ve ever heard one, but nothing in her expression reveals that she’s thinking about naked bodies, desperate kisses, or coming so hard she’ll see stars for days.

Damn shame, that.

My fingers sink into the pockets of my jeans. Tone neutral, I ask, “Everything okay with Amelie?”

“She’s fine. I mean, I’m pretty sure she was waxing this guy’s pubes when I called, but otherwise she seemed okay.”

“Waxing?” It takes every bit of self-control not to cup my dick in sympathy pain. It’s one thing to manscape on your own, another thing entirely to have someone—potentially a woman you’re interested in—rip all those suckers out. “Sounds”—I grimace, envisioning the worst and wishing I hadn’t—“enlightening.”

“It wasn’t. Enlightening, that is.”

With one hand gripping the sideboard, she toes off her right stiletto, then her left. She drops by a solid four inches, and fuck me, but the way she flexes her feet, like a ballerina at the bar or whatever it is that they use, does something to me—like I’m finally getting an intimate glimpse beyond the powerhouse woman who sits behind her desk like a queen.

Then again, she’s either about to kick my ass or strip naked.

Not sure what it says about me that I’ll gladly take either, so long as she’s in my arms.

Pathetic.

“Did you drive all the way down here to tell me that Amelie probably made a man cry today?”

“Not exactly.”

I drag my gaze up from her bare feet to those slacks that cling to her slender thighs, and then farther up, until I’m searching her face for answers. “I’m not a patient man, Sav. And I’m pretty sure we agreed to cut the bullshit yesterday. Tell me what you want.”

She pushes away from the sideboard, her hips swaying seductively, though I’m not at all sure she even realizes the power she wields. That walk of hers is hypnotic. Naked, she’d have the power to make men lose all rational thought. After yesterday’s spontaneous hookup session, I’m more than already halfway there.

As she nears me, her fingers work the first button of her shirt open, then follow through with the next.And the next.

Like I’ve been abandoned in the Sahara for days on end, my mouth goes dry.

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