Show & Tell (15 page)

The back of her throat burned with emotion and her insides quivered with hesitant joy. She'd longed to be wanted, to be part of a family for what seemed like forever. Someone to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with, to help celebrate her birthday. Little things that other people simply took for granted were things that Savannah had, for the most part, never had.

Savannah didn't know anything about the Webber family other than that they were wealthy and that they didn't approve of Knox's career. Did that mean they wouldn't approve of her either? Savannah wondered, remembering Gib's family with a shudder. More important, would it matter to Knox if they didn't? Savannah paused consideringly, mulling the question over. She honestly didn't think so. If he'd gone ahead and chosen to be a journalist despite their protests, then surely he'd use the same headstrong logic when choosing a wife.

Wife?

Jeez, where had that thought come from? Savannah shot a surreptitious glance at Knox to make sure that the absurd thought hadn't somehow been transmitted from her brow chakra to his via mental telepathy. Presently, Knox was working the room, subtly interrogating couples about their tantric experience. She should be doing the same thing, Savannah thought with a stab of self-disgust, instead of mooning over her new boyfriend.

Still her shoulders drooped with relief and her heart inexplicably swelled when his gaze caught hers. Those dark green orbs shone with humor and a hint of kindled lust, but thankfully no panic or fear, which she definitely would have detected should he have been privy to her
wife
thought.

So much for treading carefully, Savannah thought with a rueful smile. She absently twisted the thin gold band on her finger, and a prick of regret pierced her heart. She knew it was foolish, but she didn't want to give it back. She wanted to keep it and wear it and be everything to Knox that the token implied.

Knox sidled up next to her and nuzzled her ear. “Is it getting on your nerves?”

Savannah started guiltily. “What?”

“The ring. Is it getting on your nerves?”

She swallowed and forced a smile. “No, not at all. I was just admiring it. Don't let me forget to give it back to you. Maybe you can take them back and your jeweler will give you a refund.”

“And risk bad karma?” Knox asked playfully. He
shook his head. “I think I'll keep them. You never know when you might need a set of bands.”

With that enigmatic comment, Knox steered her toward the front of the room where the Sheas waited to bid their farewells. “Good morning, class.” Edgar beamed. “Rupali and I have had the opportunity to speak with several of you this morning and, by all accounts, last night was a resounding success.”

Rupali smiled serenely. “We are so very thrilled for each and every one of you. Our time together has come to an end, but please continue to use what you have learned here in your daily lives. Take the love and harmony you've found in our house home to yours. Remember truth and healing, sing your true songs, speak with your true voices and draw from the energy of Mother Earth. Cleanse your chakras, forbid blocks and continue to grow in spiritual and sexual health. Women, honor your man, never cease longing to please him. He will return your effort with pleasure tenfold.”

“Likewise, men, honor your woman. Respect her, be worthy of her love, and strive to continually bring her more pleasure. For to do these things for another is to do them for yourself.”

Edgar and Rupali joined hands. “We bid you well,” they said in unison.

Knox threaded Savannah's fingers through hers and squeezed. “Well, that's that then. You ready?”

Savannah nodded. She supposed so. They'd donned their regular clothes this morning for the
journey home, and already the bra and undies seemed to chafe her skin. She never thought she'd say it but, like Knox, she'd grown rather fond of the free feeling of the
kurta.

Knox had gone out this morning and loaded the car, so everything had been packed. There was absolutely no reason to linger, and yet, for some reason, Savannah found herself curiously reluctant to leave.

“Barbie,” Rupali called. “May I have a word before you go, please?”

Savannah nodded. Knox gave her a perplexed look, but left at her prodding when she promised to meet him at the car.

Savannah cleared her throat. “You wanted to speak with me?” she asked nervously. Something about this woman's perceptive gaze unnerved her.

Rupali laid a soft, bejeweled hand on her arm. “Did you experience any breakthroughs this weekend? Did your world shift and come back into brighter focus?”

Unbidden tears stung her eyes. A short laugh erupted from her throat and she nodded. “Yes,” Savannah choked out. “It did.”

Rupali nodded in understanding. “Good. I'd hoped you would. My third eye is my strongest chakra, and I had a feeling about you,” she told her. “I know that you'll have cause to doubt, but you'll be all right now, you know.”

“Thank you,” Savannah said, inexplicably reassured by this woman's calm assessment.

To her surprise, Rupali leaned forward and hugged her in a motherly fashion, a gesture Savannah hadn't had in such a long, long time. She blinked back tears once more. “Go, child,” Rupali told her. “He's waiting.”

Savannah withdrew from Rupali's embrace and hurried out to the car. Knox took one look at her and his jaw went hard. “What happened?” he demanded. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” Savannah said shakily, wiping the moisture from beneath her eyes. “Just women stuff. It's nothing. Really.”

Knox didn't look convinced. “You're sure you're all right? You're sure there's nothing wrong?”

His concern touched her deeply, made her want to vault across the seat, plant herself in his lap, and rain kisses all over his outraged face. A champion, what a novel experience. Savannah's heart galloped in her chest and joy fizzed through her, until finally it bubbled right out of her mouth in a stream of delighted laughter.

Knox looked at her askance. Worry replaced the outrage. “Are you sure you're all right?”

“Yes,” Savannah said emphatically. For the first time in her life
everything
felt all right.

O
N ANY GIVEN DAY
,
Knox typically enjoyed walking into the offices of the
Chicago Phoenix.
His world. He loved the hustle and bustle, the murmur of conversation and the ceaseless ring of the telephones. This was the chaotic world of the newsroom, where breaking news mingled with the mundane, juicy gossip and the occasional super-hot exposé.

Their tantric sex piece wouldn't be considered any of those things, Knox knew, and yet it had turned out to be a great story that both he and Savannah were very proud of. The article had come together so seamlessly that it had, as predicted, practically written itself. He and Savannah had simply framed it up with words, ones that he hoped would do justice to their experience with the ancient technique. The piece had been informative, skeptical in a humorous way, yet left plenty of room for possibility. Ultimately it had let readers draw their own conclusions.

Knox had always worked alone, had always considered writing a solitary business. But, to his delight, he and Savannah had worked extremely well together. Their styles complemented each other and
they intuitively played to each other's weaknesses. In short, they were great together. They wrote like they made love—splendidly.

Knox had left Savannah at her apartment eight hours ago and, during that time, he hadn't stopped thinking about her.

He simply couldn't.

She consumed his every waking thought and had even invaded his dreams. And he wanted to know her every thought, her every dream, her every secret. He wanted to learn all of her little idiosyncrasies, to wake up with her in the morning and go to bed with her each night. He wanted to shower her with the affection she'd missed as a child, to make up for every heartache she'd ever experienced. He wanted her to trust him…and he wanted to be her hero.

Basically, he just
wanted
her.

Knox felt the perpetual smile he'd worn since yesterday morning when his whole world had changed. To his surprise, he found himself whistling as he strolled into work this morning.

It had been late when they'd arrived back in Chicago, so after dropping Savannah off at her apartment, Knox had brought the piece down here to leave for Chapman to proofread. His boss usually arrived a good hour before the rest of the staff, and Knox knew that Chapman would be eager to read the article. Knox was equally eager to hear what Chapman thought of it.

A look through the glass confirmed his boss was
in. Knox rapped on the door and Chapman beckoned him inside.

“It's brilliant,” Chapman said. “It's damn brilliant. I read it first thing this morning.”

Knox slowly released the pent-up breath he'd been holding. “Thank you, sir. We're proud of it.”

“And I have a surprise for you—it'll run with your byline only.”

Something cold slithered through him. Knox blinked, certain he'd misunderstood. “Come again?”

“You're not sharing your byline. I never intended for you to. Ms. Reeves needed to be taught a lesson, Webber, and this is the way I've planned to do it.”

Fury whipped through Knox. “Look, I don't know what's going on—”

“And you don't need to, as it doesn't concern you.”

“Doesn't concern me?” Knox repeated hotly. “Like hell. I just spent the entire weekend working with her.
We
—not I—just wrote a great piece.” Knox glared at him. “She did the work, she deserves the credit.”

Chapman smiled infuriatingly. “Be that as it may, she's not going to get it.”

Knox fisted his hands at his sides and silently willed himself to calm down. Beating the hell out of his boss, which was exceedingly tempting at the moment, wouldn't benefit anyone.

He'd heard stories about Chapman's legendary ruthlessness—hell, everyone in this city had—but
had always thought they'd been exaggerated. While he'd never considered Chapman a friend, he'd nonetheless always respected the man and his opinion. Clearly, that was at an end, Knox thought, swallowing his bitter disappointment.

“I don't appreciate being dragged into this,” Knox said, his jaw set so hard he feared it would crack. “Furthermore, I don't care for your methods.”

“You don't have to.” Chapman narrowed his eyes. “Have you forgotten who is the boss here, Webber, whose name is on that door? If so, let me refresh your memory—it's mine. I do things my way, and people who don't realize that—or choose to ignore it—pay accordingly or end up unemployed. Have I made myself clear?”

Knox smirked as a red rage settled over his brain. “Perfectly.”

With that, Knox pivoted and stormed from Chapman's office. He knew any argument was pointless. Several co-workers called out greetings, but Knox wasn't in any frame of mind to play the amiable rich boy today. He needed to intercept Savannah before she came in this morning and prepare her for Chapman's little bomb.

More important, he needed to make sure she understood that he hadn't played any part in it.

Anxiety roiled in his gut and his heart stumbled in his chest as the implications of what had just transpired in Chapman's office fully surfaced in Knox's furious mind.

He could lose her because of this.

He could lose her.

He'd forced her hand, had gone to Chapman and had made her go on that assignment when she'd expressly and repeatedly insisted that she didn't want to go. She'd undoubtedly believe that he'd been in on it, that he and Chapman had plotted out her punishment together. Hell, even he had to admit that he looked guilty. What was it he'd told her?
Don't make me play hardball.
Knox snorted and shook his head. What a pompous idiot he'd been.

It wouldn't matter that they'd made love all weekend, that they'd shared the most mind-blowing, soul-shattering sex, that he'd all but told her he'd fallen head over hills in love with her. Granted, he hadn't said those words per se, but surely she'd understood the implication. He hadn't been able to keep his hands off her, for pity's sake.

But none of it would matter, Knox needlessly reminded himself. She didn't trust him with her heart yet and if she talked with Chapman before Knox had a chance to talk to her, he most likely would never get the opportunity.

Nausea curdled in his stomach.

Just what in the hell had she supposedly done that would make Chapman sink to such measures of retribution? Knox wondered angrily. What unforgivable offense had she committed? Knox hadn't heard the first rumor, so whatever it was had been kept quiet.
Secrets didn't typically last in a newsroom, but obviously this one had.

Knox breathed relief when the elevator doors finally opened, hurried inside and impatiently stabbed the button for the lobby. In the end it didn't matter what she had or hadn't done.

The only thing that mattered was making sure that she understood that
he
hadn't had anything to do with this mess—that he hadn't betrayed her, and he would do whatever was necessary to make her believe it.

His insides twisted with dread and he broke out in a cold sweat. He wouldn't lose her, dammit. Knox slammed his fist into the elevator wall.

He couldn't.

 

S
AVANNAH ROCKED
back on her heels and waited patiently for the elevator to deliver her to the eleventh floor, home of the
Chicago Phoenix.
She'd awoken this morning with a lighthearted smile and the irrepressible urge to get to work. Savannah knew her anxiousness had less to do with the desire to do her job and more to do with the desire to see—and do, she thought wickedly—Knox.

It had been late by the time they'd gotten back to Chicago and, though he'd all but turned her into a quivering puddle of need with that marathon goodnight kiss, Savannah hadn't asked Knox to spend the night. He'd been very proud of their piece—as had she—and Knox had wanted to swing by the
Phoenix
and leave the article on Chapman's desk so that he could read it first thing this morning.

Though she didn't particularly care for their boss, it was obvious that Knox valued the older man's opinion. Savannah supposed that in absence of his father's approval, Knox had attached special meaning to Chapman's. She had the old bastard's number, though, and knew Knox's trust had been misplaced. She dreaded when Knox would reach that conclusion as well. She'd swallowed more than her share of disappointment and knew that it left a bitter aftertaste.

As for her, Savannah had wanted to get here early this morning to hear Chapman's opinion of the story as well. She hoped that, having gone on this little trip at his bidding to serve penance for her so-called offenses, he would back off now and let her return to her job.

Savannah chuckled. Her punishment had backfired.

Big time.

Chapman had sent her on this trip with the notion of knuckling her under, of humbling her. Little did he know that she and Knox had found something indescribably perfect together, that they'd spent the weekend in hedonistic splendor, and that he'd unwittingly forced her to admit what her heart had known all along—Knox Webber was The One.

Rather than continuing to nurse her animosity toward Chapman, it occurred to Savannah that she should thank him instead.

Doing the tantric piece with Knox had been utterly wonderful. They'd worked amazingly well together and the story had only served to whet her appetite for more. She was tired of covering the mundane, had grown weary of the half-assed assignments Chapman had foisted upon her since she'd pissed him off. With luck, when she walked into the office this morning, things would have finally changed for the better.

Savannah had no more than set foot out of the elevator when Chapman summoned her into his inner sanctum. Suppressing a secret smile, she squared her shoulders and strolled in.

“Good morning, sir,” Savannah said.

“Good morning,” he returned, his smile a wee bit too smug for Savannah's liking. A finger of trepidation slid down her spine. “I've had a chance to read the article you and Webber did.” He inclined his head. “Great stuff.”

Savannah's tension eased marginally and she smiled. “I'm glad you like it, sir. Knox and I are very proud of it.”

He winced regretfully. “I've only got one minor revision, though.”

“Certainly. What's that?”

“The byline,” Chapman said, his fat lips curling into a malevolent smile. “I'm eliminating a name from it—yours.”

For all intents and purposes, the ground shifted beneath Savannah's feet. Her ears rung, and nausea
pushed into her throat. She blinked, astonished. “I'm sorry?”

“I'm sure you are.”

“What?”

“I never intended to let you take credit for this story. You need to learn some respect, Ms. Reeves. You also need to learn to heed my wishes. From this day forward, you will do that. Do you understand?” he asked in softly ominous tones. “I am the boss here and you will answer my questions when I ask them, regardless of your so-called journalistic integrity…or else. Let this be a lesson to you, my dear. Don't screw with me. You'll lose.”

“But I did the work,” Savannah said angrily.

He leaned back in his seat and stacked his hands behind his head. “But you won't get credit for it, or any other article until you learn some respect.”

The implication of everything she'd just heard hit Savannah like an unexpected blow to the belly. She swallowed her disappointment, her anger—ate it until she thought for sure she would vomit.

A horrible suspicion rose. “But Knox—”

“—has done and will always do exactly what I tell him to,” Chapman said meaningfully. His eyes glittered with evil humor. “He's a model staffer.”

Savannah crossed her arms over her chest and snorted with bitter regret. Her world dimmed back into its usual muted focus and the light heart she'd enjoyed only moments ago instantly turned to lead.
“I see,” she finally managed. She had to push the words from her seared throat.

“Good,” Chapman said. “I thought that you would when you'd been shown the bigger picture.”

Without further comment, Savannah turned and walked out of Chapman's office, through the busy newsroom, and eventually out of the building. She got into her car and, amazingly dry-eyed, drove across town to her small efficiency apartment.

For those long interminable minutes, she was utterly and completely numb. It had been like Chapman's words had cut off the circulation to her feelings, had prevented her from experiencing even the least amount of emotion.

But the second Savannah entered her apartment, that tourniquet was released and the pain ripped through her, wrenching an anguished, silent sob from her throat. It drove her to the floor, the weight of the torment so unbelievably unbearable.

Savannah knew this woeful routine, had been a player in this all too familiar scene. But she didn't understand now any more than she ever had, just exactly what she'd done to deserve this kind of heartache. What made her so unworthy of even a sliver of happiness? A lump formed in her tight throat. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks and splashed onto her shaking hands. She bit her lip to stem the flow, but it didn't work. The pain was an emotion that had to come out, and this was the body's natural way to cleanse itself of hurts.

He'd known, damn him. He'd had to have known, and Chapman, the vengeful jerk, had all but told her so.

Knox has done and will always do exactly what I tell him…

And obviously he had, Savannah thought miserably as another dagger of regret twisted in her chest. Knox had forced her to take that trip, hadn't he? Had gone to Chapman when she refused. Savannah didn't think that Knox had known why she was going to be punished—he'd seemed genuinely curious about that—but she didn't doubt for a minute that he'd known what was going to happen. He'd known that Chapman never planned to let her have that byline. Had known that all of her effort had been for naught.