“One where two people take pleasure from a relationship. That pleasure can be financial or social. It doesn’t always have to be interpersonal, and itcertainlyisn’t the kind of all-powerful thing you have in mind. Your expectations for love are as high as your expectations for everything else in your life. But you’re only setting yourself up for a fall. Don’t you see that?”
Savannah didn’t want to. “The way I look at it,” she said, “if my expectations are high, I stand more of a chance of getting what I want than if I’d aimed lower to start with.”
She grew quiet when Sam wandered into the room. She smiled at him when he moved on into the library. The French door had been fixed. Propping a forearm high against its frame, he looked out over the patio.
Susan resumed the conversation in a voice that was low and private but carried conviction. “The thing that matters most in a relationship is respect. Respect comes from power, and power comes from money. Statistics show that financial pressures are behind most divorces.”
“What do statistics know? If the marriage is strong, the couple can handle the financial pressures.”
“But money matters.” Her eyes strayed to Sam’s lanky frame. “It’s a sign of power. When a man has money, he has a name for himself. People seek him out. They listen to him. He has clout. I respect a man who can make things happen.” Her mouth slanted into a catlike grin. “I love him if he can make them happen for me.”
“Did Dirk do that?”
The grin vanished. “No.” Her eyes stayed on Sam.
“But you loved him.”
“I thought I did.” She paused. “Dirk was great in bed. He made things happen for me there, all right.”
“But not elsewhere? I don’t understand, Suse. You had a great house, a Jaguar, clothes, and jewelry, and—”
“I had to fight for everything. Dirk was one of the tightest men I’ve ever met. Not a romantic bone in his body.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Now, if sex was all I wanted, I’d go after Sam. He has a kind of raw, male appeal, don’t you think?”
Savannah knew other women felt it, though she’d never personally been drawn. “He doesn’t have much money,” she whispered back as a reminder to Susan, to whom money meant so much.
“Maybe not,” Susan breathed, “but, Lord, he fills his jeans well.”
Savannah debated that, finally conceding, “He has a nice butt, I suppose.”
“Wait till he turns around and shows off the front.”
“You sound as though he’s purposely flaunting something.”
“I’ve been wondering about that.”
“Well, don’t. Sam Craig isn’t an exhibitionist. It’s not his fault you’re fixated on his fly.”
Susan shrugged.
Savannah grunted. “This conversation is totally inappropriate.”
“Not really. Let me tell you, there have been times in the past two days that I’ve wanted nothing more than for that man to throw me over his shoulder, take me up to bed, and make me forget everything that’s happening here.” She pursed her lips, then sent Savannah a sidelong glance. “Are you shocked?”
Savannah wasn’t shocked for one very good reason. In essence, there wasn’t much difference between Susan’s thoughts about Sam and hers about Jared. She had made love to Jared in her mind countless times when she had been alone at night with only his voice for company, or when she’d needed an escape from the worries of her life.
Shocked? If Susan thought Sam well endowed, she should see Jared.
“You are shocked,” Susan said. “You’re blushing.”
“I’m not shocked.” She took a breath, then blurted out in a whisper, “Would you do it?”
“Do what?” Susan whispered back.
“Go to bed with him?”
“If he asked me nicely.”
“Come on, Suse—”
