Do You Love Me? Read online

  “He was a vice president at Cavendish’s.”

  “I know that. Is he your thief?”

  She stared at him. His expression remained placid. She didn’t know how he knew, but she bit her bottom lip, gave an affirmative blink and a slight nod. She didn’t think anyone knew about the embezzling but Murphy Eth. “It’s not your concern.”

  “A man comes here, to our home, your home which is also my home, and strikes you, my patron, my friend, my…” He hesitated, “…a woman I love.”

  Savanna winced. “No. Darryl and his behavior are my concern, not yours. I will handle it.”

  “You didn’t appear to be doing a very good job of handling it before.”

  “I would have thought of something.”

  “An aluminum net made to gather wilted leaves?”

  “It was something.”

  He tilted his chin, distancing his face a little from hers. “He spoke boldly. Your past behavior has made him believe he has authority over you. Perhaps you have made him believe you belong to him.”

  “He’s wrong about both of those.”

  “When a man has sex with a woman, it sometimes makes him believe the act has meaning for them both.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “It’s understandable that he thinks you have feelings for him. Carol believes that as well.”

  Savanna felt her nostrils flare and her eyes pop. “So you and Carol have discussed my sex life?”

  He gave no indication of guilt or regret as he answered, “Yes, we have discussed your…past behavior.”

  “How harshly did you judge me?”

  “I do not judge what you did before I came to you, and I expect the same of you, that you not judge my past.” He paused. “You have not been with him since I came.”

  She diverted her gaze, unwilling to meet his inquiring look.

  He continued. “You must not have sex with him again.”

  “I am a grown woman. I will make my own decisions.”

  “You do not belong to him and you must not allow him to think that you do.”

  “I have as much right to…”

  “No.” Peter’s voice deepened. “When there was thought of betrothal, your behavior was understandable, if not proper. Now, that is no longer the case. You are not a whore.”

  She jerked her head, recoiling from his touch.

  “Why should you be offended that I might think that of you? You do not protest when others call me gigolo and assume sex is why you pay me.”

  “I do pay you.”

  “Not for what they think.”

  “Let them think what they will.”

  His eyes narrowed. “As long as I am the whore and not you?”

  Savanna squirmed and twisted to jerk herself upright. Peter moved his legs, allowing her to shift position and stand. Straightened to her full height, she peered down at him. “I want you to pack your things and leave my property.”

  He didn’t speak, but set his gaze to contemplate the ground in gloomy silence as Savanna strode through the French doors and into the house. When she turned to secure the doors for the night, which she seldom did since Peter had lived in the loft, he called after her. “Put an ice bag on your face and sleep with it off and on all night.”

  She closed the doors, and slammed the locks home, grumbling. “Don’t sleep with Darryl. Do sleep with an ice bag. Who the hell does he think he is?” She turned off the lights, then waited.

  Peter ripped the buttons from his shirt as he yanked it off and hurled it to the deck. With one motion, he kicked off his deck shoes and dived into the pool.

  Savanna secured the front door, then climbed the stairs as Peter began his nightly ritual.

  After her shower, Savanna wrapped herself in the terry cloth robe and lay across her bed still listening to the sound of Peter’s steady, rhythmic kicks as he swam, and she simmered in her own frustration and confusion, wishing Carol would get back, furious with her friend for talking with Peter about Savanna’s relationship with Darryl. She knew why. Carol wanted Peter herself.

  She should call the police. File assault charges against Darrell. But what if he had injuries of his own? What if he filed countercharges against Peter?

  Peter had been cruel to hurl those hateful accusations at her. He had stared at her injured face with anger, his fury aimed not so much at her, she supposed, as at the one who had inflicted the injury.

  Pushing her hair back from her face, she flinched as her fingers brushed over her chaffed cheek and jawbone. She hadn’t brought additional ice up and didn’t dare go back downstairs to get more. The injury throbbed and she felt sorry for herself. She wanted sympathy and she knew where to get it, along with a marvelous, boulder-like shoulder to cry on. She shook her head.

  “Oh, God, please let Carol get back before I go down there and make a complete fool of myself.”

  She felt a mingling of sorrow, relief, and anger when she heard a car approaching.

  Sophia Mandamort teetered slightly as she wagged parts of the padded bench up the stairs and into Savanna’s bedroom on Saturday morning.

  Carol had summoned the masseuse, assuring Savanna a rubdown would help her relax after her calisthenics of the previous evening.

  Carol and Savanna had talked most of the night, plowing the same ground over and over again. Carol pleaded with her to call the police, to have Darryl arrested, charge him with assault. Savanna refused. She didn’t say so, but she was afraid Darryl might level a countercharge against Peter.

  When their discussion turned to Peter, she was definite one moment about wanting him off her property, to the point of vowing to pay for his stay in a hotel until the Calcutta. In the next breath, she insisted he was her guest and it would be inhospitable to throw him out.

  She didn’t let herself think of what might happen to her if Darryl discovered Peter was gone. She called Murphy who checked with his man and called her back.

  “My guy didn’t know Hightower might be a threat to you.”

  “Will you please tell anyone watching him to come in, if Darryl comes here again?”

  He agreed but was obviously vexed by her stubborn refusal to file assault charges against the man..

  Carol tried repeatedly to inject what she termed reason into their conversations, when she could determine Savanna’s position.

  “It’s less than a week till the Calcutta. Surely you can manage to survive with Peter living here on the grounds for seven more days. You can avoid him that long.”

  “How many nights is that?”

  Carol laughed. “Six, unless you allow him to stay Saturday night after the festivities. You aren’t going to give him the boot on the day of the big event, are you?”

  Savanna shook her head, then changed her mind mid shake, and nodded instead.

  Carol exhaled noisily. “Take off your clothes, wrap yourself in that sheet, and let Sophia work you over. The woman’s got magic in her hands. She’ll rub you right out of this funk.”

  Sophia spoke in broken English, but her voice was low and her accent had a Scandinavian flow, which Savanna found musical, lilting and relaxing.

  Following instructions, the subject straddled the long, padded chair/bench, leaned forward and placed her forearms, one on top of the other on the upright portion. Her muscles were knotted and she had a crick in her neck.

  Sophia spoke in a singsong monotone as she began working Savanna’s back, down her shoulder blades, massaging her upper arms and repeating the route until the subject began to relax.

  Gradually the rub became brutal as the woman’s soft, warm hands invaded the tense muscles, forcing them to relinquish their knots and, eventually, all resistance.

  The rub initially was not particularly comfortable, but slowly began to alleviate the stress.

  Tired from the night of conversation, Savanna began to doze as warmth oozed through her body. In a haze, she heard Carol say she was going down to rustle up coffee and something to eat. Savanna hummed sleepy a
greement.

  Sophia paused from time to time to add warm oil to Savanna’s back.

  After one particularly long delay, the strong hands were noticeably cooler, the strokes more of a caress as the masseuse pushed the sheeting to either side and rubbed from the base of Savanna’s neck down her spine. The thick palms slid over her shoulders and back, rubbing away the stubborn kinks in the small of her back and down. The fingers were strong around her waist as they continued probing, shoving the sheet further out of the way as they worked.

  Then the hands slipped around her shoulders and pulled, fitting Savanna’s back snugly into the other’s warm body.

  “Ohh, that is sooo nice,” Savanna groaned, stretching.

  It was not Sophia who responded, however, but a deep, familiar voice. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Peter!” Her tone chastised him even as she sat straight and tried to move forward, pivoting on the narrow bench. Flailing, she clamped the sheet to her sides with her elbows while snatching for the edges to cover her back as she tried to focus slumberous eyes. “You’re not supposed to come upstairs. You’re not supposed to be here. You’re not even supposed to be on my property this morning. I thought I made that clear last night.”

  He stood, put his hands up, palms forward, signaling peace, waiting for her to finish. Warily, she glared at his face then, involuntarily allowed her eyes to track down his clothing, a sport shirt and loose-fitting slacks, to verify the probe she had felt at her back.

  “I came to tell you good-bye. Carol told me where you were and said to come up. When I walked into the room, the woman signaled me to sit where she had been, to occupy you while she went for towels.”

  Savanna looked around. “Okay, so where is she?”

  Sophia chose that moment to scurry into the room with a stack of towels as Peter turned to look, all innocence. “Right there.”

  “You touched me.”

  “I’ve touched you before.”

  “Not intimately.”

  “Yes, intimately.” He grinned. “In the swimming pool I touched you far more intimately than I have this morning.”

  Her voice was accusing, daring him to lie. “You enjoyed it.”

  “That’s true. I enjoy touching you, intimately or otherwise, and I always shall.”

  “No, buster, that’s where you’re mistaken. There will be no more of me in your future.”

  He turned and started toward the door. “I am not mistaken. I’m leaving here and you are going to miss me. You are going to weep and grieve and be miserable without me. I will console myself with thoughts of your torment.”

  Savanna jumped up, gathering dangling edges of the sheet around her. “I am not going to miss you or grieve for you, either. If you walk out that door, I will not give you another thought, ever. What’s more, I will never speak to you again.”

  Peter hesitated, interrupting his departure, to flash a perplexed glance. “You are commanding me not to walk out that door?”

  Her head bobbed up and down a dozen times. “I do want you to walk out that door. Yes, I do!”

  He squinted. “Am I to understand that if I do what you’re ordering me to do, you will never speak to me again? Does that make sense?”

  She bit her lips and scowled.

  “No. I mean…oh, I don’t know what I mean.”

  A slow smile eased the lines in his face. “Then I will go quietly and allow you time to come to terms with what it is you want of me. I am certain about what I want of you, my darling. When you have decided, we will meet and compare our findings. Is that agreeable?”

  Mutely, she nodded

  Sophia finished her chore with little cooperation from her subject as Savanna began her mope. She didn’t know why she should sulk. She had ordered him to leave and he had left.

  When Sophia was through, Savanna wrapped and secured the sheet like a toga, and kicked aside a trailing end as she walked.

  For the most part, she had her home back to herself, practically. Of course, there were still Merriam and Angus…and Carol.

  She shouted toward the hallway. “Carol, you have to stay with me the rest of the week.”

  Without waiting for a response, Savanna descended the staircase, crossed the entry, paced through the great room out onto the deck, strolled a lap around the pool and back inside, leaving the French doors open, allowing the warmth and the pungency of autumn’s dying foliage to steal into the house.

  Carol met her on the stairs. “Thank you for your gracious invitation, Susu.” She was being surly. “I wasn’t sure if I was wanted around here or not.”

  “I want you to stay.”

  “Then I will. I heard your conversation with Peter.” Savanna didn’t say anything. “Are you awfully sleepy? We talked until nearly dawn. I’m beat.”

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe I should fix you a drink.”

  Savanna chuffed, a half laugh, half cough. “If I boozed every time things didn’t go right, I’d spend my life soused.”

  “Come on, I’ll bet you haven’t had a dozen disappointments in your entire life.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Name one.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Savanna paced, kicking the trailing tail of her sheet each time she turned.

  “Come on. I’ll bet you can’t name three.”

  Savanna pondered then held up her index finger. “In high school, I was only an alternate, not a legitimate cheerleader, tagging along in case one of the first string went down, which they never did.”

  She held up a second finger. “I was not valedictorian of our class.”

  Another finger. “I was not captain of the debate team.” Another. “I was not invited to pledge my first choice of sororities until my second year in college, after my parents had time to squeeze the right pressure points.”

  “Wow. Okay, that’s more than I expected. But those were all a long time ago.

  “Also,” Savanna was on a roll and not quite through, “I’ve never been in love.”

  Carol did a double take and grinned a smug grin. “Oh, I think you probably have. Very recently, truth be told.”

  “With a gigolo? A man I pay for his attention? Don’t be ridiculous. Besides, the way I understand the process is, when it’s love, the genuine article, both parties fall into it together.” Savanna paused and drew a deep breath. “He was here strictly for the money, and quite possibly to experience the lifestyle firsthand.”

  Carol pushed at her cuticles. “I think it’s time I told you something.”

  “Okay.”

  “I offered Peter an obscene amount of money to come to my house, to spirit him away from you.” Her eyes shot up to gage Savanna’s reaction.

  “Oh.” Savanna frowned and found that she was more than mildly interested. “When was that?”

  “The Monday he showed up here and moved into the room over the garage.”

  “Before or after our trip to Tennysons?”

  Carol looked mildly surprised. “After, of course. He was too gruesome before. All that hair and grime.”

  Savanna hesitated and gazed out at the pool. “Well, he’s gone now and I have no idea why he decided to leave.”

  Carol barked a caustic laugh. “Don’t be obtuse. He left because you told him to go.”

  “Sure, but I’ve told him that before and he didn’t leave.”

  “Girlfriend, you are really in over your head this time. You don’t even know what you’re saying and don’t mean half of it anyway. You are a mess.”

  “Well, anyway, he’s gone.” Savanna glared at her friend.

  “Yes.”

  Something about Carol’s facial expression quickened Savanna’s curiosity. “Do you know where he’s going?”

  “I couldn’t say, actually.”

  “You’re hedging. You do know where he’ll be, don’t you?”

  “I’m not for sure, Susu, but if you needed him, I could probably find him.”

  “Is he going to your pl
ace?”

  “Susu, I can’t believe you’re being so stupid about this. Do you honestly not know you’re knee-deep in love with the man?”

  “Don’t be an idiot.” Savanna turned her back, kicked the trailing sheet, and folded her arms in front of her.

  Carol spoke as if to an imaginary person present. “It’s strange to me that everyone knows how she feels about him but her.”

  “What are you saying?” Savanna asked, fixing a hard stare on her friend. This was her business and she couldn’t bear thinking her family and friends speculated openly about her most personal, private feelings.

  “It’s written all over your face, and his, every time you’re together.”

  “We are totally unsuited.”

  “Wrong. You belong together.”

  “He has no education.”

  “No, but he has wisdom and courage and common sense but, most importantly, he has you nailed. He has singularly and absolutely copped your heart and soul.”

  “Those people are notorious for stealing things.” Savanna ducked her head in a failed attempt to hide a smile. It was a feeble effort.

  Carol stood silently watching, waiting. After several heartbeats, Savanna risked a look. Their eyes met and slow smiles crept over their faces at the same time.

  Carol said, “You do know it then, witch.”

  Slumping, Savanna rocked herself from side to side. “I only know everything goes haywire inside me when he gets near, and I can’t seem to take control.”

  “Well, for heaven’s sake, get a grip. You are the only obstacle in your path to happiness. Why are you so stubborn about this? Is it pride? When we’ve talked about men, you’ve never specified rich, educated, Anglo-Saxon. Honey, Peter is everything you ever wanted, handsome, funny, talented, ambitious, not to mention teeming with passion. Besides all that, he adores you.”

  There was a long silence before Savanna nodded mutely. A big tear broke free, trickled down her cheek and plopped onto her folded arms.

  Carol allowed a grim smile. “It’s as bad as I thought, isn’t it?”

  Savanna squinted from under her dark, furrowed eyebrows. “This is me giving in to it. It’s a private moment, Carol, one you must never share with anyone. Is that clear?” She stiffened immediately, sniffed back the gathering wetness and squared her shoulders. “I have a comfortable life. I have family and friends, no matter what Darryl said.” She flashed Carol a warning look.