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  “You make me want to—”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Sing,” he muttered, relaxing his hold enough for her feet to touch the ground.

  Savannah could have sworn his ears turned red. “I make you want to do what?” she pressed.

  “Never mind, Savannah,” he answered. “It’s better that you don’t know. And please, just this once, is it too much to ask that you don’t argue with me?”

  “Fine,” she said, pretending to be gravely disappointed. She mocked him with a deep sigh.

  They walked down to the water’s edge, where Nash paid for the rental of a small pedal boat. He helped her board and then joined her, the boat rocking precariously as he shifted his weight.

  Savannah held tightly to her seat. She remained skeptical of this idea, convinced they were going to look like a pair of idiots once they left the shore. She didn’t mind being laughed at, but she didn’t want him laughed at because of her.

  “I…don’t think we should do this,” she whispered, struck by an attack of cowardice.

  “I’m not letting you out of this now. We haven’t even tried.”

  “I’ll embarrass you.”

  “Let me worry about that.”

  “Nash, please.”

  He refused to listen to her and began working the pedals, making sure the pace he set wasn’t too much for her. Water rustled behind them and Savannah jerked around to see the paddle wheel churning up the water. Before she realized it, they were speeding along.

  “We’re moving,” she shouted. “We’re actually moving.”

  It seemed that everyone on the shore had turned to watch them. In sheer delight, Savannah waved her arms. “We’re actually moving.”

  “I think they’ve got the general idea,” Nash teased.

  “I could just kiss you,” Savannah said, resisting the urge to throw her arms around his neck and do exactly that.

  “You’ll need to wait a few minutes.” His hand reached for hers and he entwined their fingers.

  “Let’s go fast,” she urged, cautiously pumping her feet. “I want to see how fast we can go.”

  “Savannah…no.”

  “Yes, please, just for a little bit.”

  He groaned and then complied. The blades of the paddle behind them churned the water into a frothy texture as they shot ahead. Nash was doing most of the work. Her efforts were puny compared to his, but it didn’t seem to matter. This was more fun than she’d dared to dream. As much fun as dancing.

  Savannah laughed boisterously. “I never knew,” she said, squeezing his upper arm with both hands and pressing her head against his shoulder. “I never thought I could do this.”

  “There’s a whole world out there just waiting to be explored.”

  “I want to sky-dive next,” Savannah said gleefully.

  “Sky-dive?”

  “All right, roller-skate. I wanted to so badly when I was growing up. I used to skate before the accident, you know. I was pretty good, too.”

  “I’m sure you were.”

  “All my life I’ve felt hindered because of my leg and suddenly all these possibilities are opening up to me.” She went from one emotional extreme to the other. First joy and laughter and now tears and sadness. “Meeting you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she said, and sniffled. “I could cry, I’m so happy.”

  Nash stiffened and Savannah wondered if she’d offended him. His reaction would have been imperceptible if they hadn’t been sitting side by side.

  Nash was pedaling harder now; her own feet were set in motion by his efforts. “Where are we going?” she asked, noting that he seemed to be steering the craft toward shore. She didn’t want to stop, not when they were just getting started. This was her one fear, that she’d embarrass him, and apparently she had.

  “See that weeping willow over on the far side of the bank?” he asked, motioning down the shoreline. She did, noting the branches draped over the water like a sanctuary. It appeared to be on private property.

  “Yes.”

  “We’re headed there.”

  “Why?” she asked, thinking of any number of plausible reasons. Perhaps he knew the people who lived there and wanted to stop and say hello.

  “Because that weeping willow offers a little more privacy than out here on the lake. And I intend to take you up on your offer, because frankly, I’m not going to be able to wait much longer.”

  Offer, she mused. What offer?

  Nash seemed to enjoy her dilemma and raised her hand to his mouth, kissing the inside of her palm. “I seem to remember you saying you wanted to kiss me. So I’m giving you the opportunity.”

  “Now?”

  “In a moment.” He steered the boat under the drooping limbs of the tree. The dense growth cut off the sunlight and cooled the late-afternoon air.

  Nash stopped and the boat settled, motionless, in the water. He turned to her and his gaze slid across her face.

  “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

  Besides him and her parents? And they had to praise her, didn’t they? No one. Not ever. “No.”

  “Is the rest of the world blind?”

  His words were followed by silence. A silence that spanned years for Savannah. No man had looked past her flaw and seen the desirable woman she longed to be. No man but Nash.

  His mouth came down on hers, shattering the silence with his hungry need, shattering the discipline she’d held herself under all these years. She wrapped herself in his embrace and returned the kiss with the potency of her own need.

  Nash moaned and kissed her hard, and she responded with every ounce of her being. She kissed him as if she’d been waiting all her life for this moment, this man. In ways too numerous to count, she had been.

  She moaned softly, thinking nothing seemed enough. Nash made her greedy. She wanted more. More of life. More of laughter. More of him.

  Dragging his mouth from hers, he trailed a row of moist kisses down her neck. “If we were anyplace but here, do you know what we’d be doing now?”

  “I…I think so.” How odd her voice sounded.

  “We’d be in bed making love.”

  “I…”

  “What?” he prompted. “Were you about to tell me you can’t? Because I’ll be more than happy to prove otherwise.” He directed her mouth back to his…. Then, slowly, reluctantly, as though remembering this was a public place and they could be interrupted at any time, he ended the kiss.

  Savannah had more difficulty than Nash in returning to sanity. She needed the solid reality of him close to her. When he eased himself from her arms, his eyes searched out hers.

  “If you say that shouldn’t have happened, I swear I’ll do something crazy,” she whispered.

  “I don’t think I could make myself say it.”

  “Good,” she breathed.

  Nash pressed his forehead to hers. “I wish I knew what it is you do to me.” She sensed that it troubled him that she could break through that facade of his. She was beginning to understand this man. She was physically handicapped, but Nash was crippled, too. He didn’t want love, but he couldn’t keep himself from needing it, from caring about her, and that worried him. It worried her, too.

  “You don’t like what I do to you.” That much was obvious, but she wanted to hear him admit it.

  Nash gave a short laugh. “That’s the problem, I like it too much. There’s never been anyone who affects me this way. Not since Denise.”

  “Your ex-wife?”

  “Yes.” He regretted mentioning her name, Savannah guessed, because he made a point of changing the subject immediately afterward.

  “We should go back to the pier.”

  “Not yet,” Savannah pleaded. “Not so soon. We just got started.”

  “I don’t want you to strain your leg. You aren’t accustomed to this much exercise.”

  “I won’t, I promise. Just a little while longer.” This was so much fun, she didn’t want it to eve
r end. It wasn’t every day that she could turn a dream into reality. It wasn’t every day a man kissed her as if she were his cherished love.

  Love. Love. Love. The word repeated itself in her mind. She was falling in love with Nash. It had begun weeks earlier, the first time he’d kissed her, and had been growing little by little. Love was a dangerous emotion when it came to Nash. He wouldn’t be an easy man to care about.

  He steered them away from the tree and into the sunlight. Savannah squinted against the glare, but it didn’t seem to affect Nash. He pedaled now as if he was escaping something. The fun was gone.

  “I’m ready to go back,” Savannah said after several minutes of silence.

  “Good.” He didn’t bother to disguise his relief.

  The mood had changed so abruptly that Savannah had trouble taking it all in. Nash couldn’t seem to get back to shore fast enough. He helped her out of the boat and placed his arm, grudgingly it seemed, around her waist to steady her. Once he was confident she had her balance, he released her.

  “I think we should leave,” he said when they returned to the picnic table.

  “Sure,” she agreed, disappointed and sad. She folded up the tablecloth and handed it to him. He carried the basket to the car and loaded it in the trunk.

  Savannah knew what was coming; she’d been through it before. Whenever a man feared he was becoming—or might become—emotionally attached to her, she could count on the same speech. Generally it began with what an exceptional woman she was, talented, gifted, fun, that sort of thing. The conclusion, however, was always the same. Someday a special man would come into her life. She’d never expected her relationship with Nash to get even that far. She’d never expected to see him after Susan’s wedding. This outing was an unforeseen bonus.

  They were on the freeway, driving toward Seattle, before Savannah found the courage to speak. It would help if she broached the subject first.

  “Thank you, Nash, for a lovely picnic.”

  He said nothing, which was just as well.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said, clasping her hands tightly together.

  “I doubt that.”

  She smiled to herself. “I’ve seen this happen with other men, so you don’t need to worry about it.”

  “Worry about what?”

  “You’re attracted to me and that frightens you—probably more than the other men I’ve dated because a woman you once loved has deeply hurt you.”

  “I said I don’t want to talk about Denise.”

  “I’m not going to ask about her, if that’s what concerns you,” she said quickly, wanting to relieve him about that. “I’m going to talk about us. You may not realize it now, but I’m saving you the trouble of searching for the right words.”

  He jerked his head away from traffic and scowled at her. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me right. You see, it’s all familiar to me, so you needn’t worry about it. This isn’t the first time.”

  “It isn’t?” The question was heavy with sarcasm.

  “I’ve already explained it’s happened before.”

  “Go on. I’d be interested in hearing this.” The hard muscles of his face relaxed and the beginnings of a smile came into play.

  “You like me.”

  “That should be fairly obvious,” he commented.

  “I like you, too.”

  “That’s a comfort.” The sarcastic edge was back, but it wasn’t as biting.

  “In fact, you’re starting to like me a little too much.”

  “I’m not sure what that means, but go on.”

  “We nearly made love once.”

  “Twice,” he corrected. “We were closer than you think a few minutes ago.”

  “Under a tree in a pedal boat?” she asked with a laugh.

  “Trust me, honey, where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  Savannah blushed and looked pointedly away. “Let’s not get sidetracked.”

  “Good idea.”

  He was flustering her, distracting her train of thought. “It becomes a bit uncomfortable whenever a man finds me attractive.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because…well, because they have to deal with my problem, and most people are more comfortable ignoring it. If you deny that there’s anything different, it might go away.”

  “Have I done that?” This question was more serious than the others.

  “No,” she admitted. “You’ve been accepting of my…defect. I’m just not sure—”

  “I’ve never viewed you as defective,” he interrupted.

  It seemed important to him that she acknowledge that, so she did. “I’m grateful to have met you, Nash, grateful for the fun we’ve had.”

  “This is beginning to sound like a brush-off.”

  “It is,” she murmured. “Like I said, I’m saving you the trouble of coming up with an excuse for not seeing me again. This is the better-to-be-honest-now-instead-of-cruel-later scenario.”

  “Saving me the trouble,” he exploded, and then burst into gales of laughter. “So that’s what this is all about.”

  “Yes. You can’t tell me that isn’t what you were thinking. I know the signs, Nash. Things got a bit intense between us and now you’re getting cold feet. It happened the night of Susan’s wedding, too. We didn’t make love and you were grateful, remember?”

  He didn’t agree or disagree.

  “Just now…at the lake, we kissed, and you could feel it happening a second time, and that’s dangerous. You couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”

  “That’s not entirely true.”

  “Your mood certainly changed.”

  “Okay, I’ll concede that, but not for the reasons you’re assuming. My mood changed because I started thinking about something and frankly it threw me for a loop.”

  “Thinking about what?” she pressed.

  “A solution.”

  “To what?”

  “Hold on, Savannah, because I don’t know how you’re going to react. Probably about the same way I did.”

  “Go on,” she urged.

  “It seems to me…”

  “Yes?” she said when he didn’t immediately finish.

  “It seems to me that we might want to think about getting married.”

  Nine

  “Married,” Savannah repeated in a husky whisper.

  Nash knew he’d shocked her, but no more than he had himself. The notion of marriage went against the grain. Something was either very wrong—or very right. He hadn’t decided yet.

  “I don’t understand.” Savannah shook her head, making a vague gesture with her hands.

  “Unfortunately, I don’t know if I’ll do a decent job of explaining it,” Nash said.

  “Try.” Her hands were at her throat now, fingering the collar of her sweatshirt.

  “This could work, Savannah, with a little effort on both our parts.”

  “Marriage? You hate the very word…. I’ve never met anyone with a more jaded attitude toward love and romance. Is this some kind of joke?”

  “Trust me. I was just as shocked at the idea as you are, but the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. I wish it was a joke.” Nash’s choice of words must have been poor because Savannah recoiled from him. “It would be a marriage of convenience,” he added, hoping that might reassure her—or at least not scare her off.

  “What?” she cried. “In other words, you intend to take what I consider sacred and make a mockery of it.”

  It was difficult not to be defensive when Savannah was acting so unreasonable. “If you’ll listen, you might see there are advantages for both of us.”

  “Take me back to my shop,” she said in a icy voice.

  “I’m going there now, but I was hoping we could talk first.”

  She said nothing, which didn’t bode well. Nash wanted to explain, ease her mind, ease his own, but he wasn’t sure he could. He’d spoken prematurely without giving the matter suff
icient consideration. It was after they’d kissed under the weeping willow that the idea had occurred to him. It had shocked him so completely that for a time he could barely function. He’d needed to escape and now that they were on their way back into Seattle, he realized he needed to talk this over with her.

  “I know this comes as a surprise,” he said, looking for a way to broach the subject once again. He exited from the freeway and was within a mile of Savannah’s shop.

  Savannah looked steadfastly out the window, as if the houses they were passing mesmerized her.

  “Say something,” Nash demanded. He drove into the alley where her car was parked and turned off the engine. He kept his hands tightly on the steering wheel.

  “You wouldn’t want to hear what I’m thinking,” Savannah told him through clenched teeth.

  “Maybe not,” he agreed. “But would you listen to what I have to say?”

  She crossed her arms and glared at him. “I don’t know if I can and keep a straight face.”

  “Try,” he said, just as she had earlier.

  “All right, go on, explain.” She closed her eyes.

  “When I came to pick you up this afternoon, you were upset.”

  She shrugged, unwilling to acknowledge even that much. It wasn’t an encouraging sign. He’d been premature in mentioning marriage. He wasn’t sure why he’d considered it so urgent that he couldn’t take the night to sleep on it first. Perhaps he was afraid he’d change his mind. Perhaps this was what he’d always wanted, and he needed to salvage his pride with the marriage-of-convenience proposal. Either way, it didn’t matter; he’d already shown his hand.

  “You love your parents and want them to go after their dream, isn’t that right?”

  “Would you simply make your point?”

  “Fine, I will,” he said, his argument gaining momentum. “I’m offering you the perfect solution. You marry me.”

  “In other words, you’re suggesting we mislead my parents into believing this is a love match?”

  “I hadn’t thought of it in those terms, but, yes, I guess we would be misleading them. If that makes you uncomfortable, tell them the truth. Keep your maiden name if you want. That wouldn’t bother me at all. The point is, if you were married, your father and mother would feel free to move south for the winters the way they’ve always wanted.”