Show & Tell (16 page)

And if that weren't a bad enough betrayal, he'd let her go and make a fool out of herself by admitting her damned attraction. Had let her give him her body—and her heart, though he didn't know it. Humiliation burned her cheeks and her heart drooped pitifully in her chest.

Savannah had fancifully imagined spending the rest of her life with him, had imagined them working together, celebrating accomplishments, holidays, all of life's major events. She'd imagined waking up with him and going to bed with him. Had imagined a happily-ever-after.

She pulled in a shaky breath as another tear
scalded her cheek. Clearly it had all been just that—a figment of her lonely imagination.

The whole weekend had been about the story, after all.

 

K
NOX HAD SPENT
the entire day and the majority of the night trying to make Savannah listen to him. But she wouldn't. He'd repeatedly knocked on her door. He'd alternately called her cell and her home phone number, had even filled her answering machine tape with the whole sordid explanation. But none of it had done one whit of good, and as the day had progressed, he'd become increasingly panicked and afraid that nothing ever would.

The one and only time she'd answered the phone, it had not been with a customary hello, but a couple of succinct words that, frankly, he couldn't believe she'd said. He'd been so shocked she'd hung up on him before he'd had the time to frame a reply.

Knox was at a loss. He simply didn't know what else to do. He'd tried reasoning with Chapman once more, but to no avail. Chapman held fast to his position and wouldn't relent. The story would run with Knox's byline only, and Knox knew if that happened, he and Savannah would never be able to patch things up. Frankly, even without that in the scenario, he wasn't so confident that he could bridge the chasm between them.

Though he knew that he shouldn't be, a part of him was angry with her for thinking so little of him. How could she possibly believe that he'd known
about this? After what they'd shared, what they'd done together, how could she continue to doubt him?

True, evidence certainly existed to the contrary, but he'd honestly thought that after he'd explained everything, his word would have been enough to exonerate him. Knox blew out a frustrated breath. It probably would have been with anyone
but
Savannah. She'd been hurt, disappointed too many times. She didn't trust anyone. He wondered—even if by some miracle they got past this—would she ever fully trust him? Or would she continue to paint him with the same brush of uncertainty she used on everyone else?

To his surprise, Knox found himself back at the office. Aside from the typesetters, only a few diehard employees were there at this hour. Knox stilled as the beginnings of an idea stirred.

Only the typesetters…

When Knox had decided to pursue a career in journalism, he'd made a point of knowing the business from the ground up. He'd had a passion for the process and had wanted to experience it all—from the stories and articles that went into the papers, to layout and design, and finally…typesetting.

The idea gelled, sending a course of adrenaline rushing through his blood.

A slow smile curled his lips. Savannah Reeves would have her byline…and Knox would have her.

 

S
AVANNAH'S HEAD FELT
like it had been stuffed with cotton. Her eyes were swollen and her nose would
undoubtedly require a skin graft to remove the red. But she was alive and healthy and, if for no other reason than her heart continued to beat, she'd live.

She'd heard of people dying due to grief or a broken heart, but Savannah told herself that she'd been made of sterner stuff, and surely she'd sustained more than this. If it felt like she hadn't, or if she sometimes wandered into a room and forgot what she'd been doing, then she simply told herself that it would pass.

Eventually.

But she would get over it.

Knox had called repeatedly, had knocked on her door, had left so many messages on her machine that after the fifth one, she'd hit the erase button. For one anguished second, she'd almost let herself believe him—he'd sounded so desperately sincere—but then reason had returned and she'd clung to her anger. He and Chapman had made a fool of her once—she'd be damned before she'd let them do it again.

Savannah had called in sick to work—something she'd never done before—and had decided to take this day and pull herself back together. She couldn't afford to quit, as she wasn't independently wealthy like Knox, so faxing her resignation wasn't a viable option—attractive, yes, but simply not prudent. She would, however, take a few minutes to update her résumé and put out a few feelers. As soon as she landed another job, she'd tell them both to kiss off.
A reluctant grin curved Savannah's lips. She'd said worse to Knox last night.

The one and only time she'd finally given in to her frustration, she'd answered the phone and growled a couple of choice words she'd never said before right into his ear. She'd taken advantage of his stunned silence to hang up on him. Savannah had finally grown weary of hearing the phone ring and the answering machine messages, so she'd unplugged them. A brief reprieve, she knew, as she'd have to go back to work tomorrow and deal with the whole sordid business, but for the time being she simply wanted to be left alone.

Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest as she shuffled to the door to get her paper. Might as well take a look at the damned thing, Savannah thought. It had certainly cost her enough.

Coffee in hand, she trudged back to her sofa, sat down and, with trembling fingers, finally unfurled the paper. She found the article on page three under the heading Tantric Sex—Old New Fad Or Stranger Than Fiction? Not a bad title, Savannah thought and was in the middle of a shrug when the byline snagged her attention.

By Savannah Reeves and Knox Webber.

Savannah blinked, astounded. Her heart began to race. But how had that happened? What had changed Chapman's mind? It had been thoroughly set, Savannah knew. In one of the many messages left on her machine, Knox had promised to find a way to fix
this, but she hadn't believed him. Had he done this? she wondered, hope sprouting in her traitorous breast. Had Knox somehow managed to change Chapman's mind?

Well, there was only one way to find out. Savannah tossed the paper aside, scrambled from the couch and plugged her phone back in. She hit speed-dial and Chapman answered on the first ring.

“Make it quick,” her boss said by way of greeting.

“Sir, this is Savannah Re—”

“I know exactly who this is,” he snapped. “What do you want?”

Savannah gritted her teeth and resisted the infantile urge to smash the receiver against the wall. “I wanted to thank you for going ahead and giving me my byline. I really—”

“Don't thank me, Ms. Reeves. I had no intention of giving you that byline. You can thank Webber. He came down here last night and distracted a typesetter and added your name to the article,” Chapman said stiffly. “He's been terminated.”

Savannah gasped.
“You fired him?”

“Speedily,” Chapman said. “One more misstep and you'll be down at the unemployment office applying for benefits right along with him.” The dial tone rang in her ear.

Savannah sank onto the edge of her sofa and let the weight of that conversation sink in before trying to stand again. Knox had distracted a typesetter?
He'd added her name? He'd gotten fired because of it? Savannah massaged her throbbing temples. It was simply too much to take in.

What on earth had possessed him to do such a reckless thing? True, Knox had always been Chapman's golden boy but, regardless of that status, Knox had surely realized Chapman would never tolerate such an overt act of defiance from one of his employees, golden boy or no. Knox had to have known that particular act of insubordination would put him out of a job. He'd had to know…and yet he'd done it.

For her? she wondered hesitantly.

Savannah stilled. She'd assumed many things on Knox's behalf over the past twenty-four hours. Sitting here and making assumptions based on word-of-mouth testimony didn't make good journalistic sense.

She'd need to go to the source.

 

K
NOX HAD BEGUN
his morning by getting fired and things had steadily proceeded to worsen from there. his mother had made her weekly you-should-come-to-work-for-your-father spiel and when she'd asked him about things at the paper, he'd made the monumental mistake of telling her he'd been fired. Since then his father had called, his sister, and his brother. Undoubtedly, his entire family—all of which was employed by Webber Investments—would be lobbying for him to join the family business.

It wasn't going to happen. Knox was a writer.
He'd find another job in his field. He would not go to work for his father.

Besides, he'd known last night when he'd made the decision to add her name to the byline that he'd lose his job. Knox grunted. Hell, it had been a no-brainer. But when it had come right down to it, making sure that Savannah knew that he was in this for the long haul, that he hadn't betrayed her and that he was worthy of her trust had been more important.

If this sacrifice wasn't enough, then he'd just think of something else until he finally convinced her that she could depend on him. Where others had failed, he would not. It was as simple as that.

Provided he could ever get her to speak to him again, Knox thought. He'd tried to call her again last night, and then again this morning, to tell her to be sure and get her paper, but apparently she'd unplugged her phone and answering machine because her line had simply rung and rung. Patience and persistence, the bigger picture, Knox told himself as he heaved a hearty sigh and dialed her number once again.

He muttered a curse and disconnected when his doorbell rang. His mother, no doubt, Knox thought with a spurt of irritation as he strode angrily to the door. He didn't have time for this, dammit. He needed to get in touch with Savannah. Needed to try—

Knox drew up short as he swung open his door and found the author of his present heartache stand
ing on his threshold. His greedy gaze roamed over her. Her hair looked as if it had never seen a brush and her pale blue eyes were puffy and swollen. Her nose was red and a mangled tissue poked from the pocket of her wrinkled denim shirt. She looked like hell, but a hell he'd gladly embrace.

Hope bloomed in his chest. “Savannah?”

“I needed to talk to you, and calling seemed too impersonal. Mind if I come in?”

Still stunned, Knox belatedly opened the door. “Uh, sure.”

Knox guided her into his living room and gestured for her to sit down.

She gazed around his spacious apartment with an appraising eye. “Nice place.”

Knox rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks.”

“I heard a rumor today and I wondered if you could confirm it.”

“I'll try. What was it?”

“That you went down to the paper last night, distracted a typesetter and added my name to our story, and that you got fired because of it. Is that true?”

Knox blew out a breath. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Savannah sprang from the couch and glared at him accusingly. “You idiot! What did you do that for? Didn't you know you'd get fired? Have you lost your mind?” she ranted, that blue gaze flashing fire.

Frankly, this was not how Knox had imagined this scene playing out. He was supposed to be a hero,
dammit, not an idiot. She was supposed to be grateful, fall into his arms and profess her undying love.

“No, I haven't lost my mind,” he said tightly. “I've lost something a great deal more important than that.”

She frowned, looking thoroughly irritated. “What exactly is that?”

“My heart.”

She stilled, and her frantic gaze finally rested to meet his. “Y-your heart?”

“That's right. You're here for the facts, aren't you? Well, the fact is this—I fell in love with you this weekend. I didn't know anything about Chapman's plans, and didn't know any other way to convince you of it.” Knox shrugged. “So I added your byline…and the rest is history.”

“But what about your job?” she asked breathlessly. “You loved your job.”

Jeez, he'd just told her that he loved her, and she was still harping about the damned job. When was she going to get it?

“Savannah, I don't give a damn about the job if it means that I'm going to lose you. Your trust means more.” Knox stood and traced a heart on her cheek. His gaze searched her tormented one. “
You
mean more. I can get another job, baby. But
you're
irreplaceable.”

Knox watched her gaze soften and a smile tremble across her lips. He breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. “So are you,” she said. Savannah pulled her
cell phone from the pocket of her jeans and punched in a number. “Chapman, Savannah Reeves here. I quit.” Then she casually ended the call and, with a cry of delight, launched herself into his arms.

“I'm s-so sorry,” she cried brokenly. “I should have known better—I should have listened to you. But I was so afraid of getting hurt, I—I just couldn't.” She drew back and looked up at him. Blue mist shimmered in her eyes. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. I just—I don't—”

The feeling of immense dread he'd been carrying around for the past day promptly fled and his chest swelled with sweet, giddy emotion. “I know,” Knox said, and cut off her inarticulate attempts to describe the indescribable.

“I, uh, love you, too, you know,” Savannah said shyly.

“Yeah, I know.” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “But will you ever trust me?”

Something shifted in her gaze and Savannah stepped out of his arms and turned around. Knox panicked. He'd pushed her too far again. He'd asked for too much. Dammit.