Chapter 8

Micah reached forward and used his long, blunt fingers to tilt her chin up. The gentle touch seared her clear to the center of her core. Her lungs suddenly lacked enough air to breathe. Savannah was unable to avoid his burning gaze, not that she wanted to. In fact, avoiding this moment was the furthest thing from her mind.

She had initially asked him to talk to her to distract her from Liliana’s prognosis. As he went on, it was like putting on an old coat. Many times, they’d sit for hours in each other’s company. Sometimes they talked. Other times they watched a show on TV. Went for a hike or a walk. When she had food poisoning, Micah had come and held her until she fell asleep. When she woke up the next day, she saw that he had never left her. They probably only spoke two words that day because she was still feeling so ill. And yet, none of it mattered as long as they were together. She slipped into their former bond with ease and longed to stay there.

His arms felt wonderful wrapped around her. He pulled her closer as if to fuse them together. Enveloped in his scent, a strong pleasant musk with earthy undertones, she finally understood what she’d been missing all these years.

Him.

His presence, his vitality, his unwavering commitment to her. Hadn’t he dropped everything to be at her side? She didn’t need rescue, although there was part of that desire she associated with him. She needed Micah.

“Savvy.” His amber eyes glowed as they dropped to her mouth. Her heart thudded in her ribcage. Her breath came out in short gasps. But then, so did his. The coffee-scented breath was evocative in a way she couldn’t explain.

She opened her mouth to say something – but she could not for the life of her think of what that was. He placed his thumb on her lips. Everything within her seemed to center on the spot. So sensitive was she to the slight touch, she imagined she could feel the ridges of his thumb print. “Perfect. So perfect,” he breathed.

The words catapulted her to the past.

Everything about Nascha had always seemed out of this world to her. One commentator stated the woman had taken exotic looks to new heights. Savannah admitted she’d been jealous of her friend for a long time. After all, the world catered to her. Anywhere she went, people gravitated to her, and were helplessly drawn to her. Men had stopped in midstride, transfixed, enchanted, and bedazzled by her.

All except Micah.

Micah had never been infatuated with her friend. He found Nascha pretty, he’d told Savannah that himself, but he’d never had the awestruck, wondrous look like so many other men she’d seen in the past. In fact, the only one who had been the recipient of his fixation was her.

No, Micah’s obsession had only been for her. He’d cup her face between his hands and smooth the contours of her cheeks. “You’re perfect. You’re so perfect,” he’d whisper with awe, those amber eyes turning into molten gold as they roved over her features.

“I’m not perfect, Micah,” she’d admonish him, slightly overwhelmed by his adoration but pleased all the same. She couldn’t believe he would find her more attractive than Nascha. “Yes, you are,” he’d insist. “Perfect ... for me.”

Perfect ... for me.

Yes, that was it. Micah had been flawless for her, too. His boyish, scholarly looks and unfashionable long blond hair hadn’t mattered to her. Those freckles across his nose had disarmed her more than once. They had the tendency to darken in the sun, drawing her attention to them and giving him an air of adolescence she couldn’t resist. A sudden vision of Nascha on the kitchen floor in her house flashed. “How can you love a man that could do this to me?” Her tear-stained face stared at her in accusation, an almost murderous expression subverting the proud features.

It brought everything to the forefront again. What was she doing? Why was she capitulating to Micah’s embrace when he’d been responsible for a woman taking her life? What was she doing here in broad daylight, in a hospital waiting room, about to submit to his kisses when her niece lay a few feet away, fighting for her life? What was wrong with her?

“Micah, please let me go.”

His eyes widened with shock before his drew his arms away. He gave a dry cough and then released her and stood. The second he released her, the air rushed back into her lungs, but with it came a coldness that struck the center of her. The turmoil inside of her continued to swirl about, a mess of tangled emotions. He did as she asked without protest, and yet Savannah almost opened her mouth to call him back. To beg him to hold her in his arms again. Get it together, Savvy. Did she need to remind herself, yet again, what Micah had done? He had ruined her best friend and mentor’s career. Had left her alone when Nascha died, despite her urgent plea for him to come to her side. She’d stood at the grave site for hours and waited for him to show. She couldn’t allow a moment of insanity to forget exactly what kind of person Micah really was.

She brushed her clothes and with each stroke, a sense of composure came over her. When she felt ready, she stood and stepped away. The moment faded. The sound of activity around her beat against her eardrums, seemingly louder than before. She took a peek at him. His back was rigid with tension. Savannah flitted her eyes away from him. Would she be a fool to admit she’d longed for his kiss, almost desperately? Probably. There hadn’t been another man since she broke up with Micah. The days after their broken engagement had been some of the roughest of her life. She’d eaten a whole bag of marshmallows, an entire package of brownies, and downed a carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream in three days.

Yet, the upset stomach and sugar high did nothing to stop the pain of losing Micah.

“Savannah?”

She stiffened when Micah called her name. “Yes, Micah?”

“Why did you let me get close?”

Savannah whirled around. His profile was to her but he was looking at her from the corner of his eye.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you let me get close just now?”

Did he really expect her to answer that? How could she tell him when she didn’t quite understand herself? And when did he become so blunt? Granted, he had a penchant for plain speaking, but this was a gut-wrenching question and he knew it. “I—I—” The words wouldn’t make it past her mouth.

“You were the one who broke our engagement, Savannah. You were the one who brought me back into your life for Liliana’s care. I’m asking you again. Why did you let me close?”

He had turned to fully face her. The molten gold of his eyes had hardened to dark amber. “I’m waiting.” “Micah, let’s forget what almost just happened, okay? I apologize for ... for my part in this, but let’s just drop it.” She had no wish to delve into the complicated reasoning behind their near kiss.

“We’re not going to drop it, Savannah.” That implacable tone was there again, the one he used with Tisha and Connie when they confronted him. “I want answers and I want them now.”

Perhaps it was a good thing she stopped him before he succumbed to the magnetic pull of her lips. It didn’t feel like a good thing, though. The riot of craving lashed against his insides with a ferocity that threatened his control.

He didn’t want to feel this way again. Not with Savannah. It reminded him of the hold she had over him in the past. When her smile was enough to begin his day. He’d limited his kisses with her then too, because one only whetted his appetite for more.

Then he remembered how he begged her not leave him. He’d thrown away his pride and pleaded with her to stay. And she walked out the door and tore his heart out of his chest.