Savannah seemed to deflate at his words. “Oh, Harlan. I thought so too.”
“It doesn’t say a lot for our relationship if you believe I’d keep something so important from you. Or that knowing me now, you’d think I would have cheated on you back then.”
“I’m sorry.” She reached for his hand. “I didn’t believe him. I told him he was wrong. But later, I couldn’t get it out of my head. I kept hearing my father telling me you had a son. And the longer I went without asking you about it, the more I worried. The more I...wondered.”
Harlan was still pissed. More at Savannah’s father than at her. No, he wasn’t pissed at Savannah. He was hurt.
How stupid is that?
Chapter Seventeen
“I’m sorry,” Savannah repeated. Her father had always known how to play on her insecurities. She’d spent years figuring out how to combat that. And now, with the possibility of a second chance with Harlan dangling right in front of her, she’d almost—please God, don’t let me have ruined it—thrown it away. Savannah needed to decide right now whether she was going to believe and trust Harlan or her father.
Loving her father didn’t make her blind to his faults. Loving him didn’t mean she could trust him to tell her the truth.
“Will you forgive me?” She squeezed Harlan’s hand and waited.
“Nothing to forgive,” he said.
Savannah went into his arms, hugging him as tightly as he hugged her. She raised her head from his chest and he kissed her. Sighing, she sank into the kiss. His mouth was firm, but his lips were soft. His tongue sought hers, teased hers until she met it. He boosted her up onto her desk and stepped between her legs. The wide skirt of her white shirt-dress lay crumpled between them as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer, kissing him all the while.
His hands were at her dress buttons, having them undone before she knew it. He slipped his hands inside, beneath her bra, rubbing her sensitive nipples with his palms.
“Harlan,” she gasped against his mouth. “We’re out in the main office. What if someone—”
“Stay right there.” He walked quickly to the door and locked it. Then he turned around and smiled. “I like that look.”
“You would,” she said, aware her dress was gaping to show her bra and her skirt was pushed up high on her thighs. He picked her up and she wrapped her arms and legs around him, kissing him as he took her to his office. Once there he let her down, slowly, locked the door then pushed her back against it. His hands were everywhere, as was his mouth.
He finished opening her buttons to her waist, then pushed the sleeves down her arms and off. Then he took off her bra and palmed her breasts, held them up to make it easier to kiss them, lick the nipples, take them into his mouth and suck.
“Oh, my God,” she groaned. And then it hit her. “Harlan, wait. We don’t have any—”
“Yes we do.”
“We do? When—”
