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“Why do you hate admitting that you did something nice?”
“Because I didn’t do that much. I just made a few calls, ordered a few little things. Nate was more than willing to play Santa, especially since he had that gift from Mae for you.”
“Which was wonderful of him to do, but you bought me a floor polisher and a professional-quality tool kit, for heaven’s sakes.”
“A lot of people would say that gift explains why I’m still single,” he said.
“And I say it explains why I find you so completely and utterly irresistible,” she said.
“Irresistible, huh?” A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Come over here.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. We agreed that any more fooling around with Hannah underfoot would be a bad idea.”
“Did we agree to that?”
“We did,” she said emphatically.
“Does one kiss qualify as fooling around?”
“Probably not with a lot of people, but in my experience with you, it has a tendency to make me want a whole lot more.”
His grin spread. “Good to know. I’ll have to remember that tomorrow night.”
Savannah met his gaze, her own expression deliberately solemn. “I certainly hope you do.”
* * *
Trace woke up in a dark mood on the morning after Christmas. Rather than inflict his foul temper on Savannah or Hannah, he made a cup of coffee, then shut himself away in Mae’s den and turned on his computer.
Even though he’d given his staff the week between Christmas and New Year’s off, he checked his e-mails, hoping for some lingering piece of business to distract him. Aside from some unsolicited junk mail, there was nothing. Apparently other people were still in holiday mode. He sighed and shut the thing off, then sat back, brooding.
He’d spent the whole night wondering if he hadn’t made the biggest blunder of his life the day before by giving Savannah that stock. It wasn’t that he thought it was the wrong thing to do or that Mae would have disapproved. In fact, he was certain she’d known all along what he would do with her shares. No, his concern was over whether he’d given Savannah the kind of financial independence that would make her flat-out reject the proposal he planned to make tonight.
He was still brooding over that when the door to the den cracked open and Savannah peeked in.
“Okay to interrupt?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said, forcing the surly tone out of his voice. “Come on in.”
To his shock, when she walked through the door, she was wearing some sort of feminine, slinky nightgown that promptly shot his heartbeat into overdrive.
“On second thought,” he muttered, his throat suddenly dry, “maybe you should change first.”
“Why would I do that?” She glanced down. “Don’t you like it?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said huskily. “I like it. Maybe just a little too much.”
Apparently she didn’t get the hint, because she kept right on toward him. The next thing he knew, she was in his lap and his body was so hard and aching, it was all he could do to squeeze out a few words.
“What are you up to?” he inquired, staying very still, hoping that his too-obvious response to that wicked gown of hers would magically vanish. “Where’s Hannah?”
“Gone,” she said, brushing her mouth across his.
“Gone?”
“For the day,” she added, peppering kisses down his neck.
“The entire day?” he asked, suddenly feeling more hopeful and a whole lot less restrained.
