“What about his voice? Does he always talk that way? Lord, do I love the way he talks. I swear, I could listen to that lazy drawl all night—”
“For God’s sake, Megan,” Susan cried. “Stop drooling. You’re married.”
Megan replied with a strength that was reminiscent of her old self. “Of course I’m married, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t admire another man. I’m not saying that I want to have an affair with him, just that I’m intrigued. I love Will,” she told Savannah. “I’m no threat to you.”
“I know that,” Savannah said gently.
“So tell me more about him. What color are his eyes?”
“Blue.”
Megan sucked in a breath. “And hair?”
“Sandy. Blond, brown, maybe a little silver.”
“How old is he?”
“Old enough to know better,” Susan injected archly.
Savannah frowned at her. “What do you mean?”
“He should know that you’re married to your job.”
“I’m not—”
“How much time do you have to give a man? Seriously, Savannah, can you be both a lawyer and a wife?”
For the first time, Savannah grew defensive. “No one mentioned my being a wife.”
“Then, woman. Lover. What kind of man will stand for the kinds of hours you keep?”
“You’re incredible!” Savannah cried. “The other night you were accusing Sam of being old-fashioned. Look who’s talking. Nowadays womendodo both, and their men respect them for it.” She prayed she’d said it with conviction, because she wasn’t sure it was true.
“Which raises a whole lot of other questions,” Megan put in in a loud enough voice to capture both sisters’ attention. “How did you meet? When do you see him? That has to be a real problem, since he works all night.”
“I’d like to hear the answer to that one, too,” Susan announced, tipping her head to a haughty angle. “Normal lovers spend their nights together. You two can’t do that.”
Savannah took a deep, calming breath. This part of Susan’s challenge she didn’t mind, particularly since it channeled the discussion away from the issue of how she and Jared had met. She didn’t want to go into that in front of Megan, particularly when Megan seemed to have forgotten the kidnapping for the moment.
“It takes a little imagination,” she said with a dry grin.
“Do you stay at his place?” Megan asked.
“Sometimes.”
“Where does he live?” Susan asked.
That one gave Savannah a twinge of discomfort. But she couldn’t think of a way to duck the question without arousing even more curiosity. “He owns the big Victorian that houses the radio station. He lives on the second and third floors.”
Megan loved that. “So you sleep in his bed while he’s on the air. Do you haveany ideahow many women in Rhode Island would go nuts if they knew that?”
Savannah shrugged. “They must guess that he has someone.”
“No, no,” Megan said, “that’s not the fantasy. The fantasy is that he’s talking to me,” she tapped her fingertips to her chest, “and only me. I don’t think about his woman.”
Susan snorted. “I saw a cartoon once inCosmopolitan.There was this lady DJ who was sitting nude at the mike while her lover pulled on his pants.” Savannah had put her coffee cup to her lips and was hiding behind it, but Susan’s focus was on Megan. “She was telling her listening audience that she hoped they’d enjoyed the album she’d just played as much as she had.” She looked at Savannah. “Is that what you do?”
Savannah would have choked if she’d actually been drinking the coffee. Spared that, she took refuge in indignation, firmly setting down the cup and frowning at her sister. “That’s a really personal question, Suse, and inappropriate.”
