She nodded, but she felt weepy. It wasn’t just her period. It was all the different things that had happened in the past two weeks—Megan, Jared, the trial, turning thirty-one. She usually looked at the bright side of things, but she was too drained to do that just then.
“Why don’t you skip work tomorrow?” Jared asked. His mouth was pressed against her forehead, his voice a light rasp. “The rest would do you good.”
“I have too much catching up to do.”
“But you’re not feeling well.”
“I’ll be better by morning.”
He wanted to argue, but who was he to know about the intimate workings of her body? “Are you definitely going to Marco Island on Saturday?”
“If Susan can make the arrangements. I’ll rest there.” She whispered a snort. “Good timing. You and I couldn’t do much with me this way.”
“Shows how much you know,” Jared drawled, drawing her eyes to his. His voice was low, just sandy enough to underscore his thoughts. “I could pleasure you. There are ways other than intercourse. And you could pleasure me. You’ve already shown me how. But that’s not the only reason I want to be with you. There’s more to us than sex.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
She nodded.
“I’d want you with me this weekend, whether we make love or not.”
She felt worse than ever. “I have to go with Susan and Megan.”
“I understand,” he said, trying hard to.
“If I could have chosen any other time, I would have, but Megan needs it now, and Susan does, too. She and Sam had a fight. I think she’d like to be gone right now.”
“It’s okay,” he said, but he was jealous as hell. “There’s lots I can do.”
“With my trial just over, it’s a perfect weekend for me to go. We’ll leave late tomorrow and be back late Sunday.”
“I’m used to being alone.”
“Don’tsaythat,” she wailed. “I feel so badly.”
So did he. He didn’t want Savannah going to Florida with Susan and Megan. He wanted her to himself. Holding her close, he spoke against the top of her head. “I’m not being fair. I know it’s important for you to go. I’ll miss you. That’s all.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” she whispered and buried her face against his chest. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a bell rang, but she was too wrapped up in Jared’s warmth to pay it heed until he mentioned it himself.
“Are you expecting someone?”
Puzzled, she looked up and shook her head.
“That was your doorbell.” Sure enough, it rang again. He glanced at his watch. “It’s ten-fifteen. Any idea who it could be?”
Again she shook her head, whereupon the bell rang a third time, then a fourth, fifth, and sixth in rapid succession.
“Someone’s angry,” he decided. Shifting Savannah, he slipped out from under her. When she started to rise, he pressed her back down. “Let me.”
For a woman of wealth, Savannah was not pampered. She didn’t usually sit still long enough for that. But she sat still now. Given the tender state of her insides, she appreciated not having to move.
Jared recognized Susan the instant he opened the door. Though he had only glimpsed her once before, she wasn’t the kind of woman a man forgot. For one thing, her thick, auburn hair was too striking. For another, she was statuesque and in that, unusual. And while she wasn’t holding a bottle of scotch this time, he could tell she had done so not long before. The scent was faint, but distinct.
The insistent ringing of the doorbell had aptly conveyed her annoyance. It was evident in her expression when he opened the door, although it almost comically vanished as soon as she saw him.
“Oh my.” She glanced at the townhouse to her left, then her right. “Am I at the wrong one?”
