STEAMY SAVANNAH NIGHTS by Sheri WhiteFeather

Author:Sheri WhiteFeather [WhiteFeather, Sheri]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Eight

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"Why won't you tell me where we're going?" Lea asked.

Michael checked his rearview mirror. He wasn't sure if he was being a conscientious driver or avoiding his lover's gaze. "You'll see when we get there."

"You're being so secretive, Michael."

He merely nodded. Giving her information ahead of time wouldn't work in his favor.

Silent, he continued driving. Their final destination was located in the vicinity of Savannah State University, and he knew Lea would recognize the side streets once they got closer. But would she say anything? Or would she pretend the area was unfamiliar?

They stopped at a red light and he could feel her watching him. Wondering, he assumed, what the hell he was up to. He turned toward her and, for a moment, they simply stared at each other. He wanted to reach out, to skim her cheek, but touching her would only make him ache.

"The light's green."

"What?"

"The light."

"Oh, of course." He engaged the gas pedal and sped across the intersection. He was still a bit hung-over from earlier, from drinking screwdrivers at seven in the morning.

"I wish you'd tell me where we're going," she said.

"You'll find out soon enough." He'd never expected a woman to affect him so badly, to make such a mess out of his neat and orderly life.

By the time they arrived at the Internet café, tension brimmed like steam in a pressure cooker. He suspected Lea had begun to sweat.

"What are we doing here?" she asked.

He parked the car. "I'm going to interview the manager about Lady Savannah."

She gazed out the windshield, refusing to look at him, refusing to unbuckle her seat belt. "But you've already done that. He already gave you a description of her."

"I want to talk to him again."

She remained motionless. "Then I'll wait here."

Michael prepared to exit the vehicle, knowing he was doing the right thing and hating himself for it. "You can't. I need your help."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Sure it does." He flipped the automatic lock on the trunk and got out of the car. "Come on. I'll show you what I mean."

Lea finally budged and followed him to the back of the Mercedes. He removed a handled shopping bag and presented it to her.

She peered inside and saw the auburn-colored wig. Instantly, her skin paled.

"It's almost identical to the one Lady Savannah wore," he said. "There's a pair of platform shoes in there, too. Oh, and tinted glasses." He reached into the bag and removed the plastic-rimmed specs. "I bought these at an optometrist downtown. They're the same shape as the glasses she had on."

"You're going to show all of this to the manager?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"No." He kept his gaze locked onto hers, pinning her in place. "You're going to dress up as Lady Savannah for me."

She didn't respond; she didn't utter one quavering word. Silence stretched between them, like a motionless gap in time. When she attempted to return the bag to him, he refused take it. Instead he waited for her to speak, the midafternoon sun beating brutally on his back.

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