Return of the Runaway Bride (17 page)

Savanna brushed her hair until it was soft and smooth. The weight of it fell across her bare shoulders. Slipping her arms into the royal-blue silk shell, she pulled the top over her head and flipped her hair out from the rounded neckline.

The supple fabric felt sensuous against her skin as she tucked it into the waistband of a pair of body-hugging black trousers. She slipped her black-
stockinged
feet into black leather flats and stood in front of the full length mirror to look at
herself
.

"My, my, my," she said, pleased with the image staring back at her. She fastened a simple gold chain around her neck and gold hoop earrings into her earlobes. A touch of lipstick and a swipe of mascara and she'd be ready.

The thought of seeing Daniel tonight brought a tickle of excitement to her stomach. And she wanted very much to look exceptionally good. She knew the two things were very much connected. It bothered her that since she'd returned to Fulton, Daniel hadn't stopped accusing and preaching at her long enough to notice that she was a real flesh-and-blood person, a real flesh-and-blood woman. She wanted to change that.

Being noticed by men had never been a problem for Savanna. In fact, the problem had been the opposite. Her public-oriented occupation had been the cause of all the male attention she received, she was sure.

Having a job that required constant contact with so many people, it was only natural that men would ask her out.
She'd always made it a rule to be up-front and
honest with the men she chose to date. And she'd tried hard not to hurt the few who had become serious about her.

But in all the six years since she'd left Fulton, she'd never found a man who conjured the kinds of physical reactions in her that Daniel had. She'd worried that she'd somehow made more of her relationship with Daniel than what it had really been. She worried that, in her mind, she may have turned what she and he had shared together into some kind of fantastic, intimate fantasy, the likes of which she'd never again find.

And here she was, taking great pains to look attractive, going out of her way to make certain that Daniel would become aware of her as a woman. Why?
she
wondered, looking closely at her reflection in the mirror. Why would she want to attract the attention of a man she hadn't seen in so long, a man whom she had hurt and humiliated,
a
man who had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with her?

A shocking answer to the question flitted at the edge of her thoughts, causing a flush to creep over her skin. She shook her head sharply and pushed the entire train of thought from her mind.

Making Daniel notice
her
should be the least of her worries. She should be thinking of the fund-raising dinner, of the plans that were still left to be made. There were plenty of them. She should be focusing on updating the schedule she'd made for the volunteers who were willing to make telephone calls for contributions that would benefit Fulton General.

She grabbed her purse and her satchel and went out the door. Tonight she was going to teach Daniel the fine art of telemarketing. For now, she needed to focus on that fact alone.

With fund-raising plans whirling in her mind, she pulled the car out of the driveway and steered toward the hospital. A dark foreboding descended on her as she drove through the streets of this small town. What if Daniel was right? What if her ideas were too much for the people of Fulton? Could she handle this job competently? There were so many people in the community depending on her. Would Daniel's prediction come true? Was there any possibility of her getting scared or overwhelmed or who-knows-what and leaving before seeing the dinner complete and successful?

The questions tied knots of doubt in her stomach. A tiny frown pulled her brows together. She was letting Daniel's pessimism color what she knew about herself. She wasn't that frightened teenager any longer. Never had she let down a client. Not even once had she met with anything but success since she'd started her business. Raising money was a talent, a skill she'd honed to perfection. She was more than capable of handling this job. And she'd be damned if she'd let Daniel Walsh make her feel otherwise.

After she parked the car and slammed the car door shut, she squared her shoulders with a fierce determination and marched toward the hospital. She would see that this dinner was a success. She would make sure that the volunteers raised more money for Fulton General than they had ever imagined. If Daniel thought differently—and she knew that he did—well, he'd best get ready to learn that Savanna Langford didn't back down until she accomplished her goal.

She found the office that was set up for the purpose of making telephone calls. The sight of Daniel sitting at the lone desk, impatiently tapping a pencil against a yellow legal pad caused a seed of anxiety to sprout in her.

"Am I late?" she asked.

He lifted his head. "No," he said. "I was early."

She set her briefcase on the desk, opened it and extracted a notepad and pen.

"I'm sorry about the close confines," he said, waving a hand to indicate the small room. "It's the only office not in use."

"It's okay," she said, her tone clipped. "We don't need anything elaborate to get the job done.
A couple of telephones.
A quiet room where we won't be disturbed."
She eyed her notes and then him across the desk. "Since I only have one copy of notes, how about if I come around there and we can share?"

The thought of sharing anything with Daniel brought an unexpected rush of heat to her cheeks. She dipped her head, letting her hair fall in a curtain that covered the side of her face, and rummaged in her satchel in an effort to hide her reaction.

"Sure," he said.

He stood, slid his chair to one side and came around the desk to pick up the other chair.

"I can do that," she told him.

"And what would my mother say about the manners of a Southern gentleman who allowed a lady to carry her own chair?"

His easy grin caught her unawares, and before she realized it, her own lips were drawn back in a warm smile.

"You're right," Savanna commented. "She wouldn't take too kindly to that idea."

"There you go." Daniel set the chair into place and gestured for Savanna to sit.

She did, and as he settled into his chair she said, "She looked good, by the way.
Your mother.
When I visited her last week, I was happy to see her healthy."

Daniel nodded. “I wish I had the time to visit her a little more often than I do."

Is that why you're thinking of leaving Fulton? The question was on the tip of Savanna's tongue, but she refused to ask it.

She glanced at her wristwatch. "We really should get started," she said. "I need a few minutes to explain how this works before we can begin making calls. And we don't want to call anyone much later than eight o'clock."

Daniel glanced at the notepad that she'd placed between them. He listened to her explain the procedure, but his eyes were riveted to her fingers as they lightly grasped the pen. Her long, perfectly tapered nails were coated with a dusky-pink polish, the skin of her hand smooth and pale. He imagined those fingers playing over his arms, his chest.

Stop it
! He commanded himself. The same sort of wild images had plagued him the evening of the last hospital board meeting. He'd hardly been able to pay attention to the business being discussed with Savanna sitting in the room. And when she'd approached the table of board members to explain her fund-raising ideas, the sultry pictures in his brain had intensified. He'd had to physically push them out of his mind and concentrate on foiling her plans of joining the fund-raising team.

He'd hated to hurt her feelings. And he knew he had when he'd come right out and told her that he didn't expect her to hang around long enough to complete any project she might start. But he'd felt it was imperative to be honest.

The rumor floating around town was that Savanna wanted very much to come home for good, to move
back to Fulton. She'd said something about it to him. But he'd also heard from her own lips that she planned to return to Baltimore in a few short weeks. Would she stay or would she go? Who could say for sure? How could she commit herself to helping the hospital when she was so damned flighty and indecisive? Thinking of her capricious nature only made him glad he'd had sense enough to keep all his options open by querying the Richmond law firm.

The townspeople didn't know Savanna the way he did. He was certain that she was going to start the ball rolling on this big dinner project, and then she'd abandon the very people she was supposed to be helping. Whether she high-tailed it back to Baltimore or just quit the plans to go dance in the sun, either way she'd leave a mess that none of the folks in Fulton were prepared to handle.

Well, he would have to keep a close eye on all of Savanna's plans. That way he'd be better prepared to pick up the pieces when she left. Better prepared than he'd been the last time she'd run off.

"Prepare
yourself
," Savanna said.

The words sent a chill racing along Daniel's spine. He lifted his head to stare into her clear, blue eyes.

"More people will hang up on you than will listen to what you have to say." She tapped the end of the pen lightly on her chin. "If you can keep the potential contributor's attention for the first fifteen seconds, then you've got a live one. The longer people listen, the more likely they will be to contribute."

"I see," he said.

She scooted her chair closer to the desk. "Well, let's give it a try."

Realizing that he'd become so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't heard a word she'd said, he quickly gazed down the list of pointers from which
she'd been reading. "If you'd like, I'll make a couple of calls and you can listen to my end of the conversation," she offered.

"Sounds like a good idea."

He watched Savanna dial the first name on the list the hospital administration office had supplied.

"Here goes," she whispered.

Her voice was warm and friendly as she explained who she was to the person on the other end of the telephone line. As the seconds ticked by and the one-sided conversation became more animated, Daniel knew that Savanna had what she'd called "a live one."

Daniel focused on her mouth when she chuckled lightly into the receiver. Her strawberry-colored lips pulled into a lingering smile that caused his blood to heat. She stared across the room, immersed in her discussion.

He had to admit that she knew how to play on the prospective donor's ego. People liked to be appreciated; further more, people liked for others to know of their generosity. Why settle for the silver club when one could become a member of the gold club, or even better, the platinum club. And everyone in town would see the names of each club's members in the pamphlet that would be printed after the fund-raiser ended. Man, she was good at this.

He rested his elbow on the table, curled his fingers and rubbed the backs of them across his chin, using quick, short strokes. Her blue eyes fascinated him…had always fascinated him. He remembered years ago how he could make them shine with giddy excitement when he brought her some small surprise or other, and how he could make those same eyes darken with desire until they were as deep and soft as navy-hued velvet.

The muscles low in his gut tightened as the memories bombarded his brain.

"
Ooo
-Wee," Savanna exclaimed as she replaced the telephone receiver into its cradle.
"Fifty dollars!"
She marked the amount down beside the caller's name. "Did you hear that, Daniel? Fulton General is fifty dollars richer after just one phone call."

There, he thought, those blue eyes of hers were shining with excitement just as he remembered. He
was helpless against the next question that entered his head…could he make those eyes darken with desire?