Keeping Savannah: An eXclave erotic romance, #3

By Emily Ryan-Davis

One blissful weekend in Las Vegas wasn't enough...

All twenty-three-year-old Savannah Perry wants is a fresh start, one permanent and final break from her first love, sullen bad boy turned CEO Nathan Drake. When circumstances bring Savannh and Nathan together after a three year separation, she's armed with the D-word and ready to fire--but his kiss is bullet proof and her heart has always been a foolish thing.

Three years ago, Nathan lured Savannah to a Las Vegas chapel for all the wrong reasons, including a selfish desire to bind her to him until he was man enough to keep her Now he's that man--but he's a man with a complicated past, tastes that might shock his innocent bride, and a driving determination to show Savannah her desire for him still burns bright.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Emily Ryan-Davis
• Release date: Mar 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781498982474

Book preview

Copyright 2014 Emily Ryan-Davis.

All rights reserved.

www.emilyryandavis.com

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One blissful weekend in Las Vegas wasn’t enough...

All twenty-three-year-old Savannah Perry wants is a fresh start, one permanent and final break from her first love, sullen bad boy turned CEO Nathan Drake. When circumstances bring Savannah and Nathan together after a three year separation, she’s armed with the D-word and ready to fire—but his kiss is bullet proof and her heart has always been a foolish thing.

Three years ago, Nathan lured Savannah to a Las Vegas chapel for all the wrong reasons, including a selfish desire to bind her to him until he was man enough to keep her. Now he’s that man—but he’s a man with a complicated past, tastes that might shock his innocent bride, and a driving determination to show Savannah how bright her desire for him still burns.

Chapter One

If she didn’t fall off the edge of the stage and break her neck, she was going to die from an overload of nervous energy. Since neither option appealed, Savannah Perry focused on breathing and took extra care in navigating the makeshift runway. She’d be okay as soon as she could turn her back on the staring, focused crowd of people attending the charity ball’s fashion show.

Besides, this was the easy part of the night. Piece of cake compared to what came after, when she would take a taxi to her estranged husband’s Upper East Side apartment and...

That’s where the plan got a little fuzzy. In one version, she knocked on Nathan Drake’s door and punched him right in the mouth for abandoning her three days after their ill-advised Las Vegas elopement. In another version, she threw herself against his chest and kissed him so hard, her toes curled. Now that the moment was nearly at hand, she still didn’t know which road to take. Maybe she’d kiss him first and then punch him. It wasn’t more than he deserved for leaving her to suffer his political family’s lifestyle on her own.

She executed a spin in five inch heels and her sea-green mermaid gown. As she turned, she saw something—a shock of dark hair, the cut of a man’s jaw—and her stomach fluttered with recognition.

No. That was impossible. A trick of the light as photographers blinded her with their flashing cameras. And she genuinely might have been hallucinating. The gown’s fitted bodice was affecting her ability to breathe.

Then she spotted the cluster of reporters gathered backstage, turning their lenses and flash in her direction, and her lack of oxygen went from bad to worse.

One of the reporters called out, Mrs. Drake, did you know your husband is in attendance tonight?

Black spots swam in front of Savannah’s eyes right before she fainted.

Nathan Drake studied the pale young woman stretched out on a sofa in the conference room that had been transformed into a lounge for the duration of the fashion show. Her chest rose and fell with deep, even breaths, her lush breasts pinched and pushed high by the boned bodice of the gown she wore.

She didn’t look a damn thing like the sunny, smiling girl he’d married. Disappointment settled in his gut, heavy as lead. He’d seen photos of her over the years, watched her change into this distant ice queen, but he’d fooled himself into blaming the transformation on lying cameras.

Except cameras didn’t lie.

Yanking the black bow tie from his collar, he stuffed it in his pocket and leaned forward, forearms braced on his thighs. A hint of Savannah’s perfume teased him. That, at least, was familiar. Her thin face, creamed and powdered into something sculpted and perfect, held shadows of the nineteen-year-old he’d known, but he had to look hard past the smoky eye makeup and the deep red lipstick that traced a definitive shape from her uneven lips. Nathan remembered her bottom lip full, while the top was thinner with a deep bow at the center. Whoever had painted her for this event had drawn everything uniform. Her hair, which had held an unruly wave and endless shades of gold, was drawn back in a severe cap. The color might still be the same but damned if he could tell because it was combed through with some kind of product that made the once-bright strands look dark and wet. He extended a finger and brushed the tip of her uptilted nose. Powder came away on his skin.

He had a bottle of water and wad of tissues in his hands before realizing he didn’t have a right to scrub her clean and bare the truth she hid. Disgusted with himself, he stood and turned away.

As he dropped the tissues into in a small wastebasket, the door opened. Nathan narrowed his eyes at the woman who came into the room. Mina hadn’t changed in the years since he’d last seen her in person. She wore her auburn hair big and her cosmetics conservative, just like the good Texas politician’s wife she’d aspired to be when she’d married his father.

So it’s true. You are here. I had to find out from a reporter. Her lips were set in a hard, disapproving line. I would ask if you realize how that looks but I presume you orchestrated these circumstances personally.

I could make the same presumption of you. Nathan glanced at Savannah, who still hadn’t stirred. She’d only been out for about ten minutes. Soon she would sit up, blink her green eyes at him, confused at first and, he imagined, accusing once she recognized him. It should be easy for her. Except for the tux he wore for this black-and-white affair, he hadn’t changed.

Not outwardly, anyway. And the accusation was well-deserved.

Mina leveled him a coolly disapproving look. I have no idea what you’re talking about.

No? Are you going to tell me it was Savannah’s idea to perform in front of a crowd of hundreds? The girl he’d known wouldn’t have stood up in front of an audience for anything.

Why wouldn’t it be her idea? She is part of this family—you saw to that, didn’t you?—and she understands her role. You should be pleased, Nathan. Savannah has assumed the public responsibilities that should have been yours, allowing you to do whatever you want. That’s why you married her, after all. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how we all came to be here. Mina frowned at Savannah. Why isn’t she awake yet? She needs to come back to the ball and be seen in that gown before the auction ends. Give her a little slap, but for God’s sake, don’t leave a mark.

Fury flashed through him but he maintained a tight rein on his emotions. Go back to the party. She won’t be joining you.

Of course she’ll be joining me. If you won’t wake her, I will. Mina side-stepped to get around him.

I’m awake, Savannah said, her voice low and a little rough. What’s going on?

You fainted. Censure pinched Mina’s tone.

Ignoring her, Nathan turned to find Savannah staring at him. Her voice might have been unsteady, but her eyes were intense, flashing with a riot of emotions as she searched his face.

She blew out a shaky breath and her gaze locked with his. So you really are here.

Yes. I’m escorting a friend. He watched for her reaction but except for a darkening of her eyes, she gave nothing. The mask she wore made him want to dig deeper, peel away the years until he got at the open, expressive girl who’d broken his skin with her fingernails the first time he’d licked her to orgasm. His body tightened at the memory. God, how he wanted to strip away that mask. Not taking his eyes off Savannah, he said, Go back to the party, Mina. Your absence is going to make people talk.

The social arrow struck its target. Mina spun and stalked from the room.

You’ve made her angry. Savannah carefully sat on the edge of the sofa.

I don’t care. In that moment, all he cared about was rediscovering the heart of her.

No, I guess you never do care. She pressed her fingertips to her temples and rubbed them. Is there water?

Yeah. Grabbing the bottle he’d held moments earlier, he twisted off the cap before handing it to her. He ignored her comment because it was deserved. Loosen your hair. It’ll help relieve the pressure.

I’ll be fine. I just need something to drink. What are you doing here? Their fingers brushed as she took the water from him. Nathan felt the contact down to his bones. Savannah seemed unaffected.

I’m escorting a friend, he said again.

"Not here at the show. Here." She gestured at the room before lifting the water bottle to her lips.

Nathan sat in the chair he’d vacated and watched her. He debated how to answer, finally settling on honesty. You’re here.

She glanced up after a moment. I was going to come see you tonight.

Her words were ripe with possibility. He had to know. Why?

"I don’t know. Because I’m here and you’re here and for the first time in forever, we can’t pretend we don’t exist. You can’t pretend I don’t exist. She looked down at the bottle, which she was strangling between her hands. I have something to tell you and I didn’t want to do it with a phone call or an email."

It was the pain that drew him. Reaching out, he cupped her powdered cheek and tilted her face until she met his eyes again. You have always existed for me, he said, low and forceful. "Always."

The color drained from her face. Her bottom lip trembled but she blinked and her eyes remained dry. "How can you say that? How dare you say that? You left me. You didn’t even say goodbye. Nobody would tell me where you’d gone. I thought maybe you’d decided to enlist. And when I finally found out you were here? New York. Nice and comfortable in your luxury apartment, nothing more dangerous than corporate paper cuts in your uncle’s boardroom doing whatever the hell it is you do that’s so demanding, you couldn’t find time or room for your wife."

She closed her eyes and drew a ragged breath. I don’t want this anymore. I don’t know why I’ve done it for this long.

Nathan steeled himself and silently accepted the slice of every word. He could have stopped her. Could have made excuses. God knew he had plenty, reasons he still believed in. He wouldn’t have done anything differently except maybe leaving her out of the mess of his life. Marrying her was a selfish thing. He’d wanted her even though he wasn’t right for her at the time. Had wanted to make it so she would wait for him to be right.

When she opened her eyes, they were hard emerald chips of resolve.

He acted without hesitation. Sliding his hand behind her neck, he wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her across his legs. One surprised gasp escaped before he slanted his lips across hers, starving for the taste of her. Needing to replace her anguish with pleasure, to swallow the words she was about to say.

She stiffened and wedged her hands between them. He pulled her flush against his chest, pinning her hands, and ventured deeper into her mouth. While he hadn’t forgotten the taste of her, memory had faded the drugging effect she had on his senses. He remembered now and wondered how he’d ever gotten enough.

She was spinning, dizzy as his stubble rasped her cheek. He didn’t kiss like a boy anymore. This was a man’s mouth devouring her, confident and aggressive, a kiss that gave as much as it took. Self-preservation demanded she resist but she was starving for him. She started out pushing him away but she was pulling him closer by the time he broke from her lips and closed his teeth over a soft spot under her chin.

As her fingers twisted in the fine material of his shirt, she sucked great gulps of air but couldn’t seem to catch her breath. He kissed a path down her throat, slowing as he reached the hollow between her shoulder and neck. With a groan, he buried his face against her skin and shuddered.

Don’t say it, he rasped. His lips grazed her ear, igniting her from the inside out. "Don’t. Come home with