“It was in January.”
“February.” She considered it a miracle that she could talk. His hands were working magic, and she was completely under their spell. She could tell by his smile that he knew.
“It was so cold, we had three quilts on the bed.”
“Four.”
“You were wearing my ring. Remember, Mandy?”
She couldn’t talk; she could barely breathe. But with Tanner’s hands on her, she remembered. Oh, how she remembered. They had been newly engaged, full of plans for the future, and very much in love. They’d been house-sitting for Aunt Emma.
“I’ll never forget the way you looked on that bed” —Tanner slowly popped open the top button of her blouse— “with your hair tumbled across the pillows.” He undid the second button and slowly folded the silk aside. “And your eyes, enormous and shining in the moonlight. . .” His hand moved inside to caress her soft skin. “Remember how good it was, Mandy?”
“Oh, yes.” She was so hungry, hungry for Tanner Donovan.
“I want you, Amanda.”
He lowered his face to her neck, and she tangled her hand in his dark hair, holding him there, wanting him so fiercely that she thought denial would kill her.
“Tanner.” The word was a shattered plea. She felt an aching sense of loss when he lifted his head and looked down at her.
“Amanda?”
“I’m . . .” She closed her eyes. There was no way she could regain her composure if she continued staring at him. She wet her dry lips with her tongue. “I’m hungry,” she finally whispered.
With her eyes still closed, she felt his hands on her face, exploring, caressing, remembering.
“So am I. For you.”
“Oh, please, Tanner. Don’t.”
She could feel the tension in his body as he held on to her, his hands moving down the side of her neck, over her shoulders, and down her arms. Opening her eyes, she saw that his struggle for control was as great as her own. She almost changed her mind. She almost yielded to him, fully aware that their loving would be no more to him than banishing old ghosts.
The silence stretched between them. It shouted to them, willing them to recall days gone by, times when they had spent love as freely and carelessly as rich Texans.
But there was no going back. Both of them knew it. The knowledge weighted down their hearts.
Tanner released her. “Food’s getting cold.”
“Yes.” Amanda clenched her fists to still her shaking hands.
Tanner pulled out her chair, and she sat down. “Thank you.”
“Just my natural good Southern manners.”
“Not for the chair, for letting me go.”
“Don’t assign any lofty motives to me. I fully intend to bed you. But first I’m going to build up your endurance. Eleven years of deprivation won’t be assuaged in a couple of hours.”
The tenderness in his face belied his callous words. She had to look away from him to keep from reading into his look things she knew weren’t there—love, and desire for a commitment. After buttoning her blouse, she lifted the container full of Anna’s chicken and dumplings from the picnic basket and filled their plates. She could feel Tanner’s gaze on her, watching every move.
She wished she could wave a wand over them and wipe out the past. She wished there were magic words that would make starting over possible, but there was too much between them—loss of faith, loss of confidence. Most of all there was Claude. Whatever she and Tanner felt in each other’s arms, she could never change the fact that she’d jilted him and married his best friend. She could hardly blame the man for wanting revenge. And yet she’d felt betrayed too. She never would have turned to another man if she hadn’t felt that Tanner had placed a career and a chance at fame ahead of their relationship.
It was best to get through the holidays with courage and all the savoir faire she could muster. After he was gone, then maybe she could put him out of her mind. Forever.
“These dumplings are delicious, Tanner.”
“Mom will be pleased.”
“You’re very kind to bring them over.”
“It was the least I could do after taking you on a picnic and feeding you only candy.”
She laughed. “I believe you and I are doing a pretty good job of carrying on an ordinary conversation.”
“I can be as ordinary as the next guy when I try. I can be as boring as hell.”
“I never remember you as boring, Tanner.”
“How do you remember me, Mandy?”
“Vital, aggressive, passionate—and totally committed to football.”
Tanner decided to let her last comment slide. It didn’t matter what she thought of him—then or now. Nothing mattered except putting her out of his life. Forever. Thirty-three was too damned old to be hurt all over again by Amanda Lassiter. Even if she did look like a saint and kiss like a sinner. Lord, that mouth. He’d give up his fortune for the right to taste her lips every day.