Inarticulate (6 page)

S
avannah
,

I’m not poetic or romantic. I’m barely civil most days, but you nudged at those frozen parts of me and made me wonder what it would be like to be different.

From the first night we met, you captivated me with your non-bullshit attitude. You infuriated me, yet with equal ferocity, you intrigued me. I couldn’t ignore you, no matter how much I wanted to. There was too much fire and enthusiasm in your hazel eyes.

Your infatuation was worse.

No other woman has looked at me like a puzzle strewn across the floor, waiting to be pieced together. I’ve always been seen as a completed picture—a skewed image that would forever be a shitty addition to a flawless collection. My faults make others feel better about themselves.

But not you. You never showed superiority over me. Not even at your worst. I only witnessed your affection and eventually your anger that hid the heartache.

I admit, the night of the bonfire wasn’t my first mistake when it came to you, it just feels like one of my biggest. I was annoyed that you’d stayed on my mind all week. It was out of character for me to let a woman control any piece of me. Yet you did without even being present. Then you showed up in your rental car, completely impeccable in casual clothes and no make-up, and set the bar for beauty without even knowing it.

Leading you inside, kissing you, seducing you, it was impulsive. It was a mistake. If only I’d denied the carnality that always seemed to drag us under, things never would’ve become this complicated.

While you were in the bathroom, I escaped to the back door, grasped the handle, and contemplated leaving you to find your own way to the bonfire. It would’ve saved a lot of pain if I did. I knew there was no future for us. Nothing apart from gratification.

Only I couldn’t deny wanting to taste every inch of you, touch every nerve, and inhale every one of those feminine gasps that made my cock pulse. I wanted to own you. To consume you the same way you were consuming me.

The fury was overwhelming as I held that door handle. I hated the effect you had on my libido. Worse was the response from more emotional parts of my body. I would’ve killed to come to your defense when Penelope insulted you. To be your knight in shining armor, as it were. But how? Through pantomime? That would’ve been fucking hilarious, right?

Instead, I tried to make it up to you through touch—the only thing I seemed to excel at when it came to us. I could’ve told you there was no need to be quiet. The house was vacant, but establishing a level playing field was an opportunity I couldn’t deny. And what I had planned didn’t require conversation. I wanted your body, not your words. Your acquiescence, not your intrigue. Most of all, I wanted you to experience passion from my perspective. To strip the sensations down to pure carnality. Devoid of placating dribble and nonsensical dialogue.

I wanted you and me and nothing else.

Only something happened to me that night. I didn’t like it, nor did I want to allow it. You wove your delicate fingers around my consciousness and still haven’t let go.

I need to see you. I need to explain. Please message me back and let me know you’re receiving my messages.

Keenan

S
avannah rested
her elbows on the tiny suite desk and tried to pretend the bedside clock wasn’t glaring at her from the other side of the room. Today was meant to be a day of rest. Instead, her Sunday had been filled with panicked phone calls from staff and impromptu meetings with management to discuss how to handle the latest Grandiosity bombshell.

Evidently, Penny
did
work on weekends.

Savannah spared one last glance over her shoulder at the bedside clock—7:25 p.m.—then sighed as she swung back around to re-read the email sitting unsent on her laptop.

Her finger hovered over the send button, shaking. There was no doubt in her mind that Penny had sent the email in retaliation for last night. And it was entirely unacceptable. These employees had children and mortgages. They had bills to pay and family members to support. They also had guests depending on them to provide a hospitable environment.

Panic was expected. It was inevitable and exactly what Penny set out to achieve. All Savannah could do was work harder to soothe the uncertainty and hope her assurances wouldn’t turn out to be lies.

As stated in the contract for sale, Grandiosity had to retain all incumbent staff. However, they would all be placed on a three month probation period. What happened during that period was out of Savannah’s control.

She peeked over her shoulder again, still irked by the clock. 7:28 p.m. Last night, she decided meeting Keenan for dinner was a bad idea. It didn’t matter that she could still feel his touch in the darkness as she tried to sleep. It didn’t change her mind when she woke up from erotic dreams of him. And this morning, Penny’s drama had cemented the reasons for not going.

Only now she was searching for excuses to go back on her decision.

His smirk haunted her every time she closed her eyes. When she licked her lips, they tingled with memories. She pictured him in the restaurant, alone, suave and dripping with confidence. The thought of disappointing him made her itch.

“Damn him.”

She scrolled through her inbox, reading all the subject headings from terrified staff who feared for their future. It wasn’t right. Penny shouldn’t have this amount of control. And she certainly shouldn’t use it to intimidate Savannah on a personal level.

“Damn her. Damn her. Damn her.”

She pushed to her feet and faced the bed. The alarm clock changed before her eyes—7:32 p.m. She wasn’t even dressed. Her hair was in a messy bun and she didn’t have any make-up on. But if she met Keenan she could grill him for information on Grandiosity and Penny’s authority as the CEO’s assistant. The dinner could be used for business purposes. Meeting with him could give her insight to help smooth the sale transition.

It was in her employees’ best interest for her to go…

“You’re insane,” she grated through clenched teeth and ran for the shoebox sized cupboard in the hall. She yanked a long-sleeved dress from a coat hanger, thigh-high stockings, a black jacket, and shiny pumps from the floor. By the time she was dressed it was 7:38 p.m.

Make-up took another ten minutes. She was going to be late. Really late.

She didn’t bother with jewelry; she wasn’t dressed to impress, anyway. It was business, after all. Business, business, business, even though the palpitations of her heart said otherwise. She tugged on her heels, snatched her clutch from the bedside table, and chanced another glimpse at the clock. 7:55 p.m.

“Damn it.”

Keenan didn’t seem the type to wait for anyone, let alone a woman he barely knew. She stalked from her room, ignored everyone in the reception area, and hailed a cab with the precision of a Playboy model.

Before she’d had a chance to properly consider what she was doing, she was outside Sated Palate, looking through the large floor to ceiling windows for a man she shouldn’t be searching for.

Indecision kicked in. Or maybe it was common sense. He wouldn’t have waited for her. Not for fifteen minutes.

She turned, prepared to hail another cab, and came face to face with temptation.

“Keenan,” his name gasped from her lips.

The sight of him gave her vertigo. He was dressed in tailored pants that hugged his thighs and a collared, buttoned-up shirt which left little to the imagination of the muscled chest underneath. Even in the freezing cold his sleeves were folded above his wrists, giving him a kick of casual sophistication.

He raised a brow at her, wordlessly asking where she was going in such a hurry.

“I couldn’t see you inside.” Her mouth dried at the perfection of him, her body reacting to a rapid case of dehydration. “I thought you might have left already.”

He smiled, a meager lift of beautiful lips before he began to leisurely take in her appearance, all the way to her feet. She could feel the trail of his stare. It skimmed every nerve along her skin, nudged all her erogenous zones one by one.

His eyes came back to meet hers and he mouthed, “
Stunning
.” Or at least she thought he did. He could’ve just as easily said
starving
.

She glanced at the cars behind him, at the sanctuary that would come from the inside of a cab. How was she going to communicate with him in a public restaurant? It was different last night. Their bodies had spoken for them.

He followed her gaze, searching for the truth she didn’t want to give. She swallowed, unable to admit she was about to run. Anyone with a vagina would roll their eyes and groan at her desire to flee. Well, anyone apart from Penny.

But for the first time in Savannah’s life she felt susceptible to exposure. She wasn’t like most women. She didn’t swoon over the thought of commitment or the possibility of marriage. Relationships didn’t interest her, unless it revolved around phenomenal sex and no tightening strings.

So why did Keenan nudge her consciousness like no other man had before? He remained on her mind when she should be focused on work. He also intrigued her for reasons that didn’t relate specifically to the bedroom.

It could be the whole want-what-you-can’t-have scenario. She was only in Seattle temporarily, and the language barrier was a thrilling challenge. Her cousin’s warning to stay away hadn’t helped either. She’d regressed to her childhood when her mother would tell her not to say or do something. Of course she was going to disobey at the first given opportunity.

It was human nature.

Instinct.

A strong hand brushed her hip and he looked at her with a raised brow.

“I was…” She licked her bottom lip. “I shouldn’t be here, Keenan. Dominic made it clear that I shouldn’t spend time with you.”
Christ.
She needed to keep her mouth shut.

His smile faded. The tiny increments of dissatisfaction stabbed at her sternum as his focus narrowed. He stepped into her, his lips tight, his eyes feral. The hand on her hip vanished and in its place came a delicate grip on her chin.

She swallowed hard, hearing everything he couldn’t say in the possessive expression on his face. He didn’t stop looking at her, didn’t quit compelling her into mind-numbing confusion until his mouth pressed against hers, stealing her thoughts of fleeing.

He tugged her into his body and kissed her as if nobody was watching. As if nobody else existed. With deft flicks of his tongue and soulful movements of his lips, he made her toes curl and the most delicious sensation ignite in her belly.

When they broke apart, his attention was already fixed on the restaurant, denying her emotional attention to parallel all the sexual. With a jerk of his head, he coaxed her forward and held the restaurant door open for her.

“The table you requested is ready, sir.” A young woman smiled at him and then led them through the bustling room to an intimate setting beside the window.

The building was contemporary. All dimly lit surfaces and quaint furnishings. It was neither upmarket nor shabby, which led her to believe he hadn’t tried to impress her with the location. Not that she was hoping to be impressed.

Not at all.

Nope.

The atmosphere was casual yet still entirely appealing. Just like Keenan.

As Savannah approached the table, he grabbed her elbow, halting her. She opened her mouth in confusion, then closed it as he slid past her and graciously pulled out her chair. The gesture startled her. Confused her. She had him pegged as the bad-boy, mysterious type, yet here he was with impeccable manners and a pleased gleam in his eye.

“A gentleman?” She slid into her chair, loving the way his knuckles brushed the back of her jacket. “I never would’ve guessed.”

He moved out from behind her, grabbed his own chair and repositioned it from the opposite side of the table, to the spot beside her.
Close, so close.
His leg brushed hers as he sat, and from the unaffected way he held his expression, she knew it was deliberate.

He wasn’t startled by the connection that buzzed between them. He was probably immune. Too perfect to notice anything as meaningless as attraction. His gaze continued to focus on her. It didn’t stop. They shared a conversation without words. A communication without speech.

“I’m sorry I was late.” She shrugged off her jacket, needing to break the silence and sever the power of his stare. “I wasn’t sure if I should come.”

He gave a breath of a chuckle and grinned at the table as if he knew she hadn’t planned on walking inside to find him.

“Did you have fun last night?” She should’ve stopped the question before it left her lips. He couldn’t give her a definitive answer. Not without words. And she didn’t want to second guess if an affirmative answer meant he’d gotten down and dirty with her cousin. “Forget I asked. I guess I’m not comfortable with silence.”

She wished she would’ve spared a thought at the awkwardness of a shared meal. Maybe it would be different if she knew him like Dominic did. But a one-sided conversation in a bustling restaurant wasn’t her idea of fun. The last thing she wanted to do was offend him, yet this situation was entirely out of her comfort zone, not only on a personal level, on a sexual one, too.

He frowned at her from under his lashes and opened his mouth as if to speak. She crept forward in her chair, poised to read his lips only to watch them press together again.

A menu was shoved toward her, his gruff movements announcing that she’d offended him with her ‘uncomfortable with silence’ comment.

“Thanks.”

He didn’t open his menu. Instead, he sat there, watching as she opened hers and then trailed an index finger over the list of food. She couldn’t read a word. She was too busy stealing glances at him, wondering when or if the meal would become easier. The more he watched her, the more her nervousness built.

She wracked her brain trying to figure out what to say, what to do. He was relying on her to create a conversation and she was clueless when he couldn’t reply. Apart from playing a one-sided game of twenty questions that only involved yes or no answers, she was stumped.

It wasn’t like he was helping to soften the awkwardness. He could’ve pulled out his cell and texted her. Or maybe he didn’t have a cell… Hell, a napkin and pen would’ve sufficed. But the hint of determination in his features seemed to imply his unwillingness to acknowledge his lack of speech.

She closed her eyes in defeat and internally chastised herself for meeting him. It was a bad idea. Dominic had already told her as much. She’d ignored the one cousin she trusted. All for what? A man who daunted her? A guy who didn’t believe in fidelity?

The warmth of his touch slid over her knee and she opened her eyes to find steely gray irises focused on her. Breathing became hard, thinking even harder.

“Keenan.” His fingers had a direct line to her sex. Each brush against her skin was like a swipe along her pussy. In the blink of an eye her apprehension flittered away and arousal descended like a monsoon.

She wanted him—his conversation, his attention, his body. Absolutely all the things she shouldn’t want or couldn’t have.

She shook her head, denying the pleasure taking over her senses. “I didn’t come here because of us.” She cringed at how presumptuous she sounded. There was no
us
. There were only stolen moments with his fingers in her cherry pie. “What I mean is, I didn’t come here because of last night. I came because I hoped to get answers about Penny.”

He straightened, the heavenly touch of his fingers sliding from her thigh to rest back on the table.

At least she had his attention.

“Dominic told me you work with her.”

He nodded, the movement clipped, and grasped the glass of water in front of him. She watched as he drank, the clear liquid moistening deliciously full lips.

“Does that mean you work for Grandiosity?”

He inclined his head. She wanted to push for more information, to determine what role he played, but without pen and paper the guessing game could take hours. Grandiosity was more successful and had a larger scope of employees than Rydel. He could be anything from a graphic designer to a maintenance man. And she felt entirely guilty for assuming his position was low-level due to his limited ability to communicate.

No, it wasn’t only his lack of speech.

He didn’t boast an excessive bank balance. His attire so far hadn’t included expensive suits. There wasn’t a flash of an ostentatious watch or an offer to ride in his extravagant car. He’d taken her to an understated restaurant, spent time at family dinners and low-key bonfires. She’d spent enough time around men with deep pockets to know the signs.