A Savannah Christmas Wish. Nan Dixon

forward under her weight. His shin smacked the fountain’s brick edge.

      She let go of him and grabbed the ledge.

      His body kept moving. He did a shuffle step a dancer would be proud to have in their repertoire, boogying too close to the fountain wall.

      He was going to face-plant into the fountain.

      She reached for him.

      He rolled, his feet splashing into the water. Slumping on the fountain’s edge, he stared at his shoes.

      “Oh, gracious.” Her hand covered her mouth.

      Daniel cursed.

      “I...I didn’t mean to pull you in with your shoes on.” She giggled.

      “Damn it, Bess.” He stood, his lips set in a solid grim line.

      “Daniel.” She backed up but didn’t move fast enough.

      The world spun, and he threw her over his shoulder.

      Her breath whooshed out. “Hey!”

      “You’re going home.” He crouched and swept up her shoes.

      “Put me down.” She wiggled and squirmed. When he didn’t stop walking, she pounded his back.

      “Cut it out.”

      Her stomach gurgled. “I don’t want to be sick.”

      He swore again, but stopped. Sliding her body over his shoulder, he cradled her against his chest. “When will you think before you act?”

      “When you learn to lighten up.” There wasn’t any heat behind her words.

      He stared down at her. “I’m an adult.”

      She smiled. “The water felt wonderful.”

      He sighed. His shoes made squishing sounds as he carried her.

      “I’m sorry you got wet.”

      He grunted.

      She looked at his chin. It was such a nice chin. And his lips were full and firm. He probably kissed even better than he had ten years ago. She touched his dimple. “I’m sorry.”

      “What are you doing, Fitzgerald?” His voice was deeper than normal.

      “Apologizing.” She sighed.

      He lifted her higher and his hand pressed against her breast. “Sorry.”

      “S’okay.” She kicked her feet. Had a guy ever carried her anywhere? She burrowed in closer. “Am I too heavy?”

      He grunted again.

      She leaned her head back to look at the Spanish moss in the trees. “I think Savannah wouldn’t be Savannah without the moss. And the flowers.”

      “Savannah wouldn’t be Savannah without the architecture.”

      “Spoken like a man who builds things.”

      He juggled her body and opened the door. As he climbed the stairs, his breath came out in pants. He set her down in front of her door. “You had to pick the third floor.”

      She waited for him to open the door. And waited.

      “Key?” he asked.

      She blinked. “My keys are at Abby’s.”

      Daniel banged his head against the door.

      “Don’t.” She grabbed his shoulders. She’d touched him more tonight than she had in the last ten years.

      “Wait.” He dug his keys out of his pocket.

      “You label your keys.” She stared at his key ring. Who did that? “With a label maker.”

      “Be glad. This way I don’t have to search.”

      He unlocked her door and pushed it open.

      “My hero.” She fluttered her eyelashes. Since he’d carried her like Rhett Butler, she could give him a little Scarlett.

      “Yeah, yeah. Get in there.” He pulled her inside and the door clicked behind her.

      “No, really.” She took his hands, serious now. “Thank you for seeing me home.”

      There was something hypnotic about his brown eyes. It was the gold flecks she only saw when she stood so close they shared the same air.

      He slid his hands up to her shoulders. “Not a problem.”

      She couldn’t rip her gaze away. When he stared at her mouth, her tongue touched her upper lip. A shiver raced through her body.

      “Daniel?”

      He stepped closer—or she did. The gold in his eyes darkened and disappeared.

      She stood on her aching toes and kissed him.

       CHAPTER THREE

      After women, flowers are the most lovely thing God has given the world.

      Christian Dior

      DANIEL KISSED BESS BACK. She tasted of champagne and cake. He wanted to get closer—much, much closer.

      He spun and backed her against the door. She hopped up and wrapped her long slim legs around his waist.

      “Yes.” She fused their mouths together.

      Her lemony perfume enticed him to do things he shouldn’t. Kissing Bess was irresponsible, but he couldn’t stop. Pins clinked on the floor as he freed her hair. He buried his fingers in her coppery curls and meshed their mouths together, sucking at her sweet tongue. Her firm breasts were magnets for his hands and mouth, but her bra thwarted him.

      “Pull me away from the door,” she begged.

      He did.

      Bess unsnapped her bra and flung it aside. She rolled her hips against his. “Oh, that feels good.”

      His erection ignored the voice in his head shouting stop. He anchored her against the door with his hips and one hand.

      “Touch me.” She grabbed his free hand and placed it on her breast.

      They were spinning out of control. He had Bess up against a door. Bess. He hadn’t had so much to drink that he couldn’t recognize a bad idea when it hit him like a two-by-four. She hated him.

      Instead of stopping, he lifted her higher, sucking a tight nipple into his mouth. It tasted tangy just like her.

      “Yes.” She arched back and her head thunked against the wood.

      Supporting her with a forearm, he freed his hand and pinched her other nipple. The skirt of her dress rolled up to her waist. He shifted and their groins rubbed together.

      Her fingers dived into his hair, holding him in place. Sweet, tortured sounds rumbled in her chest.

      He switched from one breast to the other. There were reasons he stayed away from Bess, good reasons, but he couldn’t remember a single one. He wanted to take her right here in the doorway.

      Bess ran her teeth along his ear. “You’re overdressed.”

      Heat streamed through him. He let her body slide partway down his. “We can fix that.” His voice sounded as if he’d swallowed gravel.

      Her fingers worked on his tie. She tugged and it went flying. She pushed off his jacket as he juggled her body and worked his shirt buttons free.

      His fingers ran up her thigh, brushing against a tiny slip of silk. His erection surged. He could push the silk aside and be in her in a slick second, but he was missing something. “Condom.”

      Her head jerked up. “Bedroom.”

      They