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“It’s what she wanted,” he said simply. “I promised I would.”
“And you always keep your promises?”
“I try,” he said. “I don’t make that many, and the ones I do make mean something.”
“What about your family? Won’t they miss you over the holidays?”
“In recent years Mae was the closest thing I had to family. What aboutyourfamily?”
“Hannah’s here. For all intents and purposes, she’s all I have. My husband and I divorced a year ago.” She hesitated, then added, “My parents and I aren’t on speaking terms at the moment.”
“I see.”
She was grateful that he didn’t bombard her with a lot of questions about that. “How did you know Mae? Forgive me, but you don’t look as if you spend a lot of time in the country.”
He laughed at that, and it transformed his face. The tight lines around his mouth eased. His dark eyes sparkled. “What gave me away?”
“The clothes, for starters. I’m amazed you stayed upright walking from the car to the house in those shoes. I don’t think snow is kind to Italian leather. And I can’t imagine that you’d be able to spend more than a few minutes outdoors before freezing in that shirt. Men around here tend toward flannel.”
“But I think the real secret is what they wear under it,” he said, barely containing what promised to be a wicked grin.
Savannah’s thoughts automatically veered off in a very dangerous direction. She had the oddest desire to strip off his clothes to see if there were practical long johns underneath. She’d never thought that sort of men’s underwear to be particularly sexy, but she imagined Trace Franklin could do amazing things for the look.
“You’re blushing,” he said, regarding her with amusement.
“Well, of course I am! I hardly know you, and here we are discussing underwear.”
“It can be a fascinating topic, especially if we move from cotton to satin and lace.”
She frowned at him. “You’re deliberately trying to rattle me, aren’t you?”
“Why would I do that?” he asked, trying for a serious expression. The twinkle in his gray eyes betrayed him.
“I can’t imagine, especially when all I was trying to find out was what drew a city man like you to spend time in a country retreat.” She studied him thoughtfully, then said, “There must have been a woman involved.”
“Bingo. The woman who brought me here years ago was envisioning a quiet, romantic getaway with long hikes through the woods.” He shrugged and gave her a beguilingly sheepish look. “Instead I spent the weekend holed up in Mae’s study with my computer and fax machine taking care of a business crisis.”
Savannah immediately felt a surprising empathy for the woman. “Now,thatI can imagine. Your friend must have been disappointed.”
“Dreadfully.”
“What sort of business?”
“I own a company in New York,” he said in such a dismissive way that it sparked her curiosity.
“Franklin,” Savannah recalled thoughtfully. “Not Franklin Toys, by any chance?”
He seemed startled that she’d grasped it so quickly. “That’s the one. How on earth did you figure that out?”
“There were some articles about that company on Mae’s desk. Obviously she kept up with it.”
“I imagine so,” he said, his expression noncommittal.
“Because she knew you from your visits here?” Savannah persisted, sensing there was more.
He shrugged. “That was the start of her interest, I suppose.”
She frowned at his evasiveness. “What aren’t you saying?”
