The Heat is On Page 28

“You’re the only man I’ve ever met who enjoys sex as much as I do,” she continued, and though he wasn’t looking at her, he could hear the smile in her voice. “You’re the only man I’ve held more than ten minutes of conversation with, the only one I talked about my work with, the only one I went to bed smiling about. You’re the only one, Matt.”

Another squeeze of his heart. Shit, if she kept going like this, he was totally going to cave.

Reading the expression on his face, Savannah reached for him again, circling her fingers around his forearm. “Please give me another chance. I know I walked away from us, but I’m asking you not to do that. I promise you, I’ll spend every second of every day proving to you that I mean everything I’m saying.”

He slowly looked at her, and the sincerity shining from her features floored him. He might have brushed it off as a lie, if it weren’t for the naked shards of vulnerability moving in her eyes. Savannah Harte didn’t do vulnerable. She didn’t expose her emotions, same way he didn’t like to expose his.

“You’re serious,” he said gruffly.

“As a heart attack,” she whispered.

“You’re in love with me.”

“Yes.” She bit her bottom lip. “And I hope you still feel the same way.”

God help him, but he did. From the moment he’d met Savannah, she’d gotten under his skin in a way no women ever had before. She’d made him laugh during a bank robbery of all things. And her enthusiastic attitude toward sex had blown him away. After three weeks, he hadn’t tired of her, the way he always tired of the females he hooked up with.

But she’d also broken his f**king heart, another thing no other woman had ever done.

Sensing his hesitation, Savannah reached into the small purple purse hanging off her shoulder. “I brought you something. I stopped by the shop to get it before I came here.”

Matt fought his curiosity as she stuck her hand in the purse. He furrowed his brows when she held up a flower about three inches long with delicate white petals. “You brought me a flower?”

“It’s a white violet.”

Taking the fragile flower from her hands, Matt studied it for a moment, then couldn’t help but smile.

Savannah’s mouth curved in an answering smile. “You know what it means, don’t you?”

He nodded.

“Say it out loud,” she murmured.

He spoke through the lump in his throat. “It means let’s take a chance on happiness.”

They both went silent, as Matt sifted through the emotions swimming inside him. He knew how difficult this was for her. She tried so damn hard to be fun and breezy, to keep everything surface-level, but she was laying everything out there right now. She was giving him her heart.

“Okay,” he said, his voice rough.

Her head shot up. “Okay?”

“Let’s give it another try.”

The joy that lit up her eyes told him he’d made the right decision, especially since it mirrored the happiness that lightened his own heart. He’d met his match in Savannah Harte. From day one, she’d intrigued and excited him. She’d made him laugh and turned him on and showed him that staying with one woman could be as exhilarating as any casual fling.

With a grin, he yanked her toward him and dipped down to kiss her. The second their lips met, the sense of sheer rightness infused into his body. He pushed his tongue through her parted lips and deepened the kiss, until they were both panting by the time they broke apart.

“What if you get bored of me?” he teased, brushing his lips along the sweet curve of her jaw.

“I won’t.” She tipped her head to meet his eyes. “What if you do?”

“Impossible.” He nibbled on her earlobe, then bent closer and whispered, “Trust me, when it comes to the two of us, darlin’, nothing can ever be boring.”