I’m still hungry,’ he admitted, letting her go and heading back to the sofa.
She watched him stretch out his muscular legs, knowing she had never felt more awkward in her life. And yes—thank the dentist’s warnings—she had cleaned her teeth, but Savannah Ross was about to play host to Ethan Alexander? It hardly seemed possible.
‘Won’t you help me?’ He glanced her way as he reached for a sandwich. ‘My housekeeper clearly thinks we both need feeding up.’
Or perhaps the older woman wanted to keep him here, Savannah thought, surprising herself with this reflection. They ate in silence until Savannah put down her napkin with a sigh of contentment. The hearty feed had reminded her of home.
‘You were hungry,’ Ethan commented, wiping his lips on a napkin.
As he continued to stare at her, Savannah’s cheeks heated up. They were still talking about food, weren’t they?
Of course they were, she reasoned, smoothing out her hair, or rather the tangles. What must Ethan think of her, bare faced and barely dressed? Having never entertained a man before whilst naked beneath a robe, she wasn’t too sure of the protocol. And as Ethan still showed no sign of going anywhere, she suggested, ‘Why don’t I switch on the television?’ Maybe they’d catch the news, she reasoned.
‘The television?’
‘I just thought maybe there would be a news report about the match … or us.’ Her cheeks fired up as Ethan gave her a look. The word ‘us’ couldn’t have carried more embarrassing weight had it tried.
‘I try to escape the news when I’m here.’ Ethan’s tone was a chilling return to his former manner.
‘But surely not items affecting your business—or world affairs—or sport?’ She was running out of options, wishing she knew how to turn the clock back so she could remove all reference to ‘us’.
‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘And, Savannah, I need to tell you something.’
By which time she’d switched on the set. Her timing was impeccable, Savannah realised, recoiling as she blenched. ‘Why, that’s ridiculous!’ A news item had just flashed up on the screen. A news item featuring Ethan Alexander caught out, so the reporters said, with his latest squeeze, a young ingénue only recently signed to his record label.
‘How could such a nice evening end so badly?’ Ethan wondered, glancing at her.
Now she knew why he hadn’t wanted her to turn it on. ‘How can you take it so well?’
‘Because I know what to expect. That’s one of the reasons I came to find you. I wanted to tell you myself before you found out by some other means. But now …’ Leaning across her, picking up the remote-control and pointing it at the set, he switched it off.
‘Shouldn’t we know everything before we do that?’ Savannah exclaimed. Terrible lies were being told about them. ‘Don’t you care what they’re saying about us?’
‘Do I care about gossip?’
‘Gossip? They’re telling lies!’
Ethan responded calmly. ‘What are they going to do? They’ll soon tire of us, and in no time those pictures will be wrapped around somebody’s fish and chips.’
‘A famous tycoon saves the girl with the golden tonsils, blushes, in front of a worldwide television audience?’ Savannah stuck a finger in her mouth to show what she thought of that. ‘A story like that could run and run.’
‘Gossip only hurts you if you allow it to,’ Ethan told her evenly. ‘And if you’re going to let it get you down like this, Savannah, perhaps you should have another think about pursuing a career in the public eye.’
Were those her marching orders? She went cold immediately, thinking of all the people who had helped her along the way and who would be badly let down if she quit. ‘But the press say we’re sleeping together.’ Surely that would get through to him?
Ethan’s brow rose seductively. ‘Is that so bad?’
He shouldn’t tease her. Savannah’s cheeks flushed crimson the moment he put the thought of them being sexually involved into her head. And why was he doing that when he had vowed not to think of Savannah as anything other than a young girl under his protection? Was it because sometimes a deeper feeling than common sense took the lead?
Before he had a chance to reason it through she begged him to switch on the set again so she could know the worst. She made him smile inwardly. Her voice was shaking with anger, not fear, and her hands were balled into fists as if she would like to punch out the screen. She was new to this, he remembered. ‘You know what they’re saying and so do I,’ he soothed, ‘So let them get on with it.’
‘No,’ she shot back fiercely. ‘We have to issue a denial.’
‘We have something to deny?’ he queried, pouncing on her naivety before it had a chance to take root. Picking up the remote-control which she had cunningly reclaimed, he tossed it out of her reach.
Gradually she relaxed, hopefully seeing the sense behind his years of doing battle with the press. ‘Thank goodness my parents are away,’ she said, confirming this.
She looked so grateful it drove home the message that Savannah came from a strong and loving family. He couldn’t shake a lingering sense of loss for something he’d never had. But her desire to go out and slay dragons soon distracted him. The expression on her face was so appealing.
It took Savannah a moment to realise Ethan was laughing. It was the first time she’d heard him laugh, without it being an ugly or mocking sound. ‘What’s so funny?’
He shook his head, unable to speak for a moment. ‘The infamous hard man and his teenage songbird?’ he managed at last. ‘They make us sound like something out of a novel.’
‘And I’m not a teenager,’ Savannah pointed out. ‘I was twenty last week.’
‘Twenty?’ Ethan’s face stilled. ‘As old as that?’
‘Well, I’m not some teenage tweety-pie, if that’s what you think—and I think we should sue them,’ she said seriously, which only made him start laughing again.
‘You can if you like,’ Ethan suggested between bouts of laughter.
Using magic beans to pay the lawyers, presumably. But as she had a leading role in this mess she was determined to do something about it.
‘From my point of view.’
‘Yes?’ Savannah stared intently at Ethan, ready to jump into armour and fight at his side at the first sign he was preparing to take on the press.
‘I think you should ignore it, as I will. Unless—’ he held up his hands when she was about to leap in ‘—they become a nuisance, in which case I shall act.’
That was just so disappointing. She didn’t want to sit back and have rubbish thrown at her. She was about to challenge Ethan’s decision when a knock came at the door and her bags from the stadium arrived.
‘I haven’t let you down yet, have I?’ Ethan demanded as she checked them over. ‘And I’m not about to start now. And where this newspaper rubbish is concerned you’ll just have to try something new.’
‘Such as?’ Lifting her head, she stared at him.
‘You could try trusting me.’
‘But we’re trapped here,’ she pointed out.
‘Yes, in this terrible place,’ Ethan mocked gently. ‘Poor us.’
He only had to say this for warning darts of fire to attack every part of her, and each tiny arrow carried a subtle message. She wanted him, but confronted by Ethan’s worldiness, and by the thought of staying under his roof, she grabbed the edges of her robe and tugged it