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“Very well. What does that have to do with anything?”
“It was delivered to my apartment this morning with a note that said I should get it up here before it melted.”
Savannah stared at him. “Someone sent you that ice cream as a gift?”
His gaze held hers. “Not justsomeone. It was your aunt’s handwriting.”
“Oh, my,” Savannah whispered. “How could that be?”
“I called the store and the delivery service. The arrangements had been made weeks ago.” He shrugged ruefully. “I guess Mae was afraid I might not keep my promise without a little nudge from beyond the grave. Needless to say, I packed my bags and hit the road.”
She studied him closely. “Are you teasing me?”
“Absolutely not,” he said. “I have no sense of humor. Ask the people who work for me. Heck, it’s even in most of the articles about Franklin Toys.”
“That’s absurd,” Savannah said, dismissing the suggestion out of hand. “You’ve been joking and laughing with Hannah and me since you got here.”
“I know,” he said, his expression serious. “What do you make of that?”
“We’re good for you,” she said, her voice suddenly a little breathless. Could it really be that she had something to offer this man who had everything money could buy?
“Which, I suspect, is exactly what your aunt had in mind when she plotted this meeting.”
Suddenly it all made sense to Savannah. The inheritance of Holiday Retreat at a time when she desperately needed a change in her life. The unexpected arrival of a handsome stranger on the inn’s doorstep. Yes indeed, Aunt Mae had been scheming, all right. The realization horrified her.
“I am so sorry,” she told Trace with total sincerity. “She shouldn’t have dragged you up here with an ulterior motive. If you want to get back to the city and your friends for Christmas, I will certainly understand.”
Her declaration seemed to amuse Trace for some reason. His eyes were glinting humorously when he reached out to caress her cheek. “Are you kicking me out, Savannah?”
“No, of course not. I just wanted you to understand that you’re free to go if there’s someplace you’d rather be, people you’d rather be spending the holiday with.”
As an answer he leaned forward and touched his lips to hers in the lightest, tenderest of kisses. There was a whisper of heat, the promise of fire…and then he was on his feet.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said as he headed for the stairs.
“You’re staying?” she asked.
“Of course I’m staying.”
“Because it was what Mae wanted?” she asked, determined to clarify the reason.
“No, darlin’. Because it’s whatIwant.” He winked at her. “Besides, I promised to take you into town tomorrow.”
With that he was gone, leaving Savannah staring after him. She touched a finger to her lips, where she could still feel his mouth against hers. “And you always keep your promises,” she whispered to herself. It was such a little thing, but it meant more than Trace could possibly imagine.
She lifted her gaze to seek out a picture of Aunt Mae that sat on the mantel. “Thank you.”
Just knowing that there was one man left who kept his promises restored her faith that the future would turn out all right.
CHAPTER SIX
The scent of fresh-brewed coffee drifted upstairs, pulling Trace out of a perfectly fascinating dream. For once it had nothing to do with mergers and acquisitions, but with a woman—Savannah, to be precise.
How could a woman with so little guile, so little sophistication, get under his skin the way she had? That kiss the night before—little more than a friendly peck by most standards—had packed more punch than any kiss he’d experienced in years. He’d left the room, not because he believed in hasty, uncomplicated exits, but because he wanted so much more. If he’d gone after what he’d wanted, more than likely he would have scared her to death. Then she would have kicked him out and he would have spent another lonely holiday season back in New York.
“I hope to hell you knew what you were doing, Mae,” he muttered.
When the scent of sizzling bacon joined that of the coffee, Trace quickly showered and dressed in a pair of old jeans, a dress shirt and a heavy pullover sweater. That was about as casual as his attire ever got these days. He reminded himself if he was going to paint the front door and trim and sand the floors, he needed to buy something else to wear.
