She knew where he meant. Back to the compound. Back to the cottages—hers or his. They had been leading up to this all day.
I want him, she thought, drawing back to look up at his moonlight-silvered face, his dark, intense eyes. She’d never wanted another man this way. For all she knew, she might never feel like this again. Tonight could be her last chance to know true passion.
He held out his hand. She noted that it wasn’t quite steady, and it touched her that he didn’t seem to be taking this any more casually than she was. She wanted to believe that this connection between them was as wondrous, as unique, as completely unexpected for Kit as it was for her.
She hadn’t come to Serendipity Island to fall in love. But she had, at least a little. Would it really be so wrong for her to give herself this one night with this incredible man?
No one would ever have to know. It would be her own private birthday present to herself. An adventure to savor, a memory to treasure, an experience never to be repeated.
She slipped her hand into his.
Savannah sighed as she and Kit walked slowly toward the guest cottages, using the full moon and discreetly placed security lights to guide their way. It was well after midnight, but she wasn’t tired. Far from it, in fact. She felt wide awake.
All her senses seemed heightened. The night looked more beautiful than any she could remember. The air smelled sweeter. The breeze felt incredibly sensual against her face. Kit’s hand was warm and strong around hers.
“Magic,” she murmured.
“What was that?”
She smiled up at him. “Magic,” she repeated. “This night seems too perfect to be real.”
He lifted her hand to his lips. “I was just thinking much the same about you. Almost too perfect to be real.”.
Savannah shook her head, disturbed by his words. “I’m far from perfect.”
“You couldn’t convince me of that.”
She glanced away from him. “That’s because you don’t really know me.”
“I’m hoping to remedy that soon.”
She knew this was the time to tell him that she would be leaving early the next morning. That there would be no chance for them to know each other better.
She suspected that Kit would be very surprised to discover that the real Savannah McBride was very different from the woman she’d allowed herself to be on the island. She doubted very much that he would continue to be interested in a woman with as many commitments and responsibilities as she had. Other men had been intrigued at first by her appearance, but they hadn’t been interested in the baggage she would bring with her into a relationship.
She’d been right, she decided again. It would be best if she kept quiet about her departure plans.
Kit paused outside his own cottage. “I have champagne inside,” he said invitingly. “Will you have one last drink with me this evening?”
One last drink with him. Period. There would be no others. Savannah’s chest tightened with what might have been grief, but she forced it down, reminding herself that she intended to have no regrets. “Yes, I’d like that,” she said.
Kit unlocked his door.
Savannah swallowed hard before she stepped through it.
Kit’s living area looked much like her own, Savannah noted, wiping her suddenly damp palms surreptitiously on her skirt. He’d left the overhead light off in favor of the soft illumination from a lamp beside the sofa. The dim light cast deep shadows in the corners, making the room appear smaller and more intimate.
The shirt Kit had worn earlier lay over the back of a chair. She pictured him peeling it over his head and tossing it there, and the image made her mouth go dry.
“Did you say you have champagne?” she asked, her voice sounding a bit odd in her ears.
Kit smiled and nodded. “Have a seat,” he said, motioning toward the deep-cushioned sofa. “I’ll get it.”
The small wet bar was tucked discreetly into one corner of the room. He stopped on his way to turn on the stereo unit. When Nat King Cole began to croon “Unforgettable,” Savannah realized Kit had already loaded the CD changer with old standards.
But she didn’t need a song to remind her that she would never forget this night.
Or Kit.