before Savannah’s appointment at the spa. Zach went for a run, then enjoyed his own massage. They met back at their room for a nap—another one of God’s gifts to mankind—and then, at Savannah’s request, Zach left her alone to get ready for their dinner date.
In the suite’s second bathroom, Zach showered and dressed in his freshly pressed gray suit, a white shirt, and the blue tie Gabi had given him for his birthday. As he tied the knot, he wondered if Savannah would notice that the pattern was made of intertwined handcuffs.
At five minutes to seven, he knocked on the door to their room before using his key to enter. The French doors between the sitting room and bedroom were closed. “Peach? Are you ready?”
“I’ll be right there.”
A moment later, the French doors opened and Zach all but swallowed his tongue. She wore that luscious blond hair of hers piled atop her head in artful disarray, a pair of soft curls trailing loose to frame her exquisite face. Her dark red lipstick matched her strapless dress. His gaze drank in the sweetheart neckline that revealed a mouthwatering amount of cleavage, the silky fabric clinging to her form before flaring at the waist into a flirty, filmy, gratifyingly short skirt.
She’d finished it off with red three-inch heels.
“You take my breath away, Savannah.”
“I feel like Cinderella.”
“You look like a fantasy rather than a fairy tale. I will be the envy of every man in the resort tonight.” He crossed to her and offered her his arm. “May I escort you to dinner, beautiful lady?”
“Absolutely, PC.”
“PC?”
“Prince Charming.”
Zach couldn’t help but laugh. “From Barney Fife to Prince Charming, hmm? So what did it? The helicopter? The dress? The hot tub sex?”
“No … I think it’s the handcuffs on the tie.”
“You noticed.”
She arched an imperial brow. “Ex-cons always notice handcuffs, Sheriff.”
Zach’s heart went kathunk kathunk. She was so beautiful, so spirited, so damned sexy. Once again, a certain knowledge fluttered in his mind, but still he resisted.
Dinner proved to be a feast for the senses, from the shadowed intimacy of the atmosphere to the sublime flavors of food and wine and the sultry piano music they danced to between dinner and dessert. Back in their room, Zach made love to Savannah with an intensity that was new to him, one that came from his soul. They drifted off to sleep locked in each other’s arms, and when Zach awoke to a golden dawn the following morning, that knowledge he’d spent the previous day avoiding echoed through his mind like a clarion.
He lay propped up on his elbow, his head resting in his hand, watching her. When finally she stirred, when those big brown eyes opened and those kiss-swollen lips stretched in a soft, welcoming smile, he gave voice to the truth he could no longer deny. “Savannah Sophia Moore, I love you.”
TWENTY
Savannah bolted upright in bed, her heart pounding with alarm, fear riding her blood as his words washed over her. No, please, no. She couldn’t. Not again. Her heart couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t I have the fairy tale for just a little while longer?
“No, Zach. Don’t say that. You can’t say that.”
The soft look in his eyes sharpened just a little. “I did say that.”
“That wasn’t the deal. You’re a guy.”
“I’m glad you noticed,” he snapped, then his voice gentled. “Savannah, I said it because I mean it. Let’s talk this through. I know you’ve had a bad experience in the past, but you should—”
“No … please.” She was breathing fast. She could feel fissures splitting her heart into pieces. She couldn’t go there. Didn’t he see? What they already had was perfect. Couldn’t she just have the perfect without the strings? Strings strangle a person. “Guys are supposed to want no-strings, just-for-fun sex. That’s the deal.”
“What deal?” Zach’s gentle warmth now completely disappeared. Temper crackled in his movements as he flung back the covers and climbed from bed. “I don’t recall making any deal. Especially about sex.”
“We’ve been dating. That was the deal.”
His mouth twisted. “We’re lovers, Savannah. ‘Dating’ is for high school.”
High school? Savannah’s anger flared at that, and she seized upon it. Anger was much better than fear. So she was inexperienced compared to his vast number of bedpost notches, like the ski instructor Sarah had mentioned or the pharmaceutical sales rep from Colorado Springs whom Ali said he’d been seeing last year. And let’s not forget half of my friends, she thought. “I know you’ve had lots of women.”