He would never know, she vowed. No one would ever know.
“Tell me, Tanner, if this pursuit is not motivated by love, what is the motivation? Lust? Revenge?”
“Catharsis.” His arms tightened around her. “You’ve been a fever in my blood for eleven years. I’ve decided that the only way to purge you from my system is to bed you . . . one more time.”
“Only once?”
He grinned. “You always were greedy.”
“And you always were arrogant.” She put her hand on his chest and shoved. For all the effect her attempt to push him away had, she might as well have been a snowflake battering a mountain.
“I take what I want. And I want you.”
He took her mouth swiftly, greedily, without tenderness and without love. It was not so much a kiss as an assault. His lips were hard on hers, demanding, expert.
Not even for a second did Amanda consider struggling against him. His arms were like steel. Nor did she give a moment’s thought to their audience. She and Tanner seemed fated to make public scenes.
She did give thought to the kiss, however. It was passionate, persuasive, dangerous, and it threatened to topple her defenses. She could feel the rush of liquid warmth between her thighs, the fierce yearning and soft yielding of her body. Another moment with his lips on hers and she would be lost.
Her only defense would be to meet fire with fire. She slid her hands under his tuxedo jacket and began a slow, erotic circling on his back. The power behind the kiss shifted subtly as she boldly plunged her tongue into Tanner’s mouth.
His reaction was immediate. She felt, rather than heard, the moan deep in his throat, and then he was devouring her, feasting on her as if he would never let go.
They were caught in a time warp. They might have been high-school sweethearts again, young, idealistic, and very much in love—but they were not. They were two battle-scarred people, eleven years older and eleven years more cynical.
Tanner lifted his head and held her at arm’s distance.
“I’d forgotten how well you kiss.”
“That was just a sample. Something to lead you on.”
“You make a fine quarry, Amanda. I’m going to enjoy the hunt.”
“I’d be careful if I were you, Tanner. Sometimes the hunter ends up the hunted.”
“And what are your intentions if you catch me?”
“Certainly not to bed you. But dishonorable nonetheless.”
He grinned. “You always were an unpredictable woman. I can hardly wait.”
“Don’t hold your breath. I’ve provided all the fun I intend to for one evening.”
“Does that mean you’re turning down my offer of a warm bed and a willing body?”
“Precisely.”
“Then I’ll have to find a substitute.” Releasing her, he gave a smart salute. “Have a good evening, Miss Lassiter.”
“You, too, Mr. Donovan.”
She stood there smiling, watching him walk away. Not by one twitch of an eyelash would she show that there was a cyclone raging inside her. She wouldn’t run and she wouldn’t flinch. She would stand firm against all his assaults, and she would win.
“What in the name of tarnation was that all about?”
Amanda turned to see Maxine standing at her elbow, her face shining with anticipation.
Maxine loved being the first one to hear a juicy story, but more than that she adored being the one to witness it. She had been standing near the punch table with a good view of everything that had happened between Tanner and Amanda, and she’d stepped on the feet of two people in her haste to be the first one to get to the source.
“You saw?”
“‘Me and everybody else in Greenville. Good lord! I thought he was going to make love to you right here in the Country Club.”
“That’s his avowed intention, but I doubt that even he is bold enough to do it in public.”
“Some women have all the luck.” Then, remembering their conversation at the shop, she gave Amanda a quizzical look. “I thought you weren’t planning to renew an old romance.”
“I’m not. It’s just a game we’re playing.”
“Some game! I’d love to be the winner. Shoot, I’d even love to be the loser.” She sighed dramatically. “That man looks good enough to eat. He’s a big old juicy steak, just waiting for some woman to bite in. Lord, he makes Wilford look like black-eyed peas.”
Amanda laughed. “And where is the lucky Wilford Trentwell?”
“Hiding in the men’s room, trying to get up enough courage to propose again.”
“He proposed?”
“On the way over. I turned him down. Thought I might have a shot at Tanner Donovan, but it looks like I was wrong.”