Savannah's Secrets

Her belly did a flip.

“Hey, Blake, did you eat all of the...? Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were meeting with someone,” came a voice from the doorway.

“It’s all right.” Blake waved in the woman Savannah recognized as his sister. “Zora, this is our new event manager, Savannah Carlisle. Savannah, this is our sales VP, Zora Abbott—the baby of the family.”

“And they never let me forget it.” Zora sat beside her older brother and elbowed him. The woman leaned across the table and shook her hand. “Welcome aboard, Savannah. We need you desperately. You’ve certainly impressed my big brother here. Not an easy feat.”

A deep blush of pink bloomed across Blake’s cheeks. He seemed relieved when another member of the Abbott clan stepped into the room.

“Max, this is your new event manager, Savannah Carlisle,” Zora informed the handsome newcomer, then turned to Savannah. “Max is our marketing VP. You’ll be working for him and with our mother—who isn’t here.”

There was no mistaking that Max and Blake were brothers. They had the same square jaw capped by a cleft chin. The same narrow, brooding dark eyes. And the same nose—with a narrow bridge and slightly flared nostrils.

Max wore his curly hair longer than Blake’s. And where Blake’s skin was the color of terra-cotta tiles, his brother’s skin was a deeper russet brown. Max was a little taller than his brother, with a leaner frame.

“I look forward to working with you, Savannah.” Max sat beside her and shook her hand, his grip firm and warm. His smile seemed genuine. “I’m excited to hear more of your ideas for the anniversary celebration.”

“That’s why I invited her to join us. She can relay them much better than I can.”

Two more men walked into the room. “Didn’t realize we were having guests,” the younger of the two said, his voice gruff.

“My brother Parker.” Zora rolled her eyes. “Chief financial officer and resident cheapskate.”

Parker was not amused, but the older man—whom Zora introduced as their father, Duke—chuckled and gave Savannah a warm greeting.

Parker offered a cursory greeting, then shifted his narrowed gaze to Blake.

“I thought we were going to discuss the proposal honestly.” Parker sat at one end of the table. Duke sat at the other.

“We will.” The intensity of Blake’s tone matched his brother’s. He nodded toward Savannah. “No one is asking you to pull any punches. She might as well get accustomed to how we do business around here. Besides, she can best respond to your questions about the kind of return on investment we should expect.”

“Welcome, then.” Parker tapped something on his phone. “I’ve been described as...no-nonsense. Don’t take it personally.”

“I won’t, if you promise not to take my tendency to shoot straight personally, either.” Savannah met his gaze.

Parker nodded his agreement and the other siblings exchanged amused glances.

“You found someone Parker can’t intimidate.” Zora grinned. “Good job, Blake.”

The Abbotts continued to tease each other while Zora or Blake filled her in on the inside jokes. Savannah smiled politely, laughing when they did. But an uneasiness crawled up her spine.

The Abbotts weren’t what she’d expected.

Her grandfather had portrayed them as wild grizzly bears. Vicious and capable of devouring their own young.

Don’t be fooled by their charm.

“Ready to make your presentation?” Blake asked.

Parker drummed his fingers on the table and glanced at his watch.

Don’t show fear.

“Absolutely.” Savannah stood, clutching her portfolio.

Blake’s warm smile immediately eased the tightness in her chest. Her lungs expanded and she took a deep breath.

Savannah opened her portfolio and glanced around the room.

“All right, here’s what I’m proposing...”

* * *

Blake typed notes into his phone as Savannah recapped her presentation. She’d won over everyone in the room. They were all on board with her plan—even penny-pinching Parker.

The event had graduated from the “little shindig” his mother had envisioned to a full gala. One that would retain a rustic charm that paid homage to the company’s history. Savannah had also suggested holding anniversary events in other key cities.

The upgrades Savannah proposed to the old barn on his parents’ property to prepare for the gala would significantly increase its rental income. They could charge more per event and would draw business from corporations and folks in nearby towns. All of which made Parker exceedingly happy.

“There’s one thing I’m still not sold on,” he interjected. “The majority of our market share is here in the South. Why invest in events elsewhere?”

“It’s the perfect opportunity to deepen our reach outside of our comfort zone,” Savannah said.

Parker folded his arms, unconvinced.

“She’s right.” Blake set his phone on the table and leveled his gaze on his brother. “I’ve floated the idea with a few distributors in the UK, California and New York. They love our products and they’re eager to introduce them to more of their customers. I’m telling you, Parker, this could be a big win for us.”

Savannah gave him a quick, grateful smile. A knot formed low in his gut.

“Savannah and Blake have done their homework,” his father said. “I’m ready to move forward with Savannah’s proposal. Any objections?”

Parker shook his head, but scowled.

“Excellent. Savannah, would you mind typing up your notes and sending them to the executive email list so my wife can get a look at them?”

“I’ll do my best to get them out by the end of the day, Mr. Abbott.”

“Duke will do just fine. Now, I’m late for a date with a five iron.”

“The gala is going to be sensational.” Zora grinned. “Right, Max?”

“It will be,” Max agreed. “I wasn’t sure that turning Mom’s low-key, local event into something more elaborate and—”

“Expensive,” Parker interrupted.

“Relax, El Cheapo.” Zora’s stony expression was a silent reminder that she wasn’t just their baby sister. She was sales VP and an equal member of the executive team. “The additional sales will far exceed the additional expenses.”

“Don’t worry, lil’ sis. I’m in.” Parker tapped his pen on the table. “I’m obviously outnumbered. I’m as thrilled as you are to expand our market and rake in more cash. I just hope Savannah’s projections are on target.”

“I look forward to surprising you with the results.” Savannah seemed unfazed by Parker’s subtle intimidation.

“C’mon, Savannah.” Max stood. “I’ll show you to your office. It isn’t far from mine.”

Blake swallowed back his disappointment as she left with Max, Zora and their father. So much for his plan to give Savannah a tour of the place.

“Watch yourself,” Parker warned.

“What do you mean?” Blake stuffed his phone in his pocket and headed for the door.

“You know exactly what I mean. You’ve been stealing glances at Savannah when you think no one is looking. Like just now.” Parker followed him.

“You’re exaggerating.”

“No, I’m your brother.” Parker fell in step beside him. “I know the signs.”

“Of what?” Blake turned to face his brother. “A man very impressed with his new hire?”

“It’s worse than I thought.” Parker shook his head. “Look all you want, just don’t touch. She’s our employee. A subordinate. Don’t cross the line with her. And for God’s sake, don’t get caught up in your feelings for this woman.”

“Good advice.” Blake resumed the walk to his office. “Too bad you haven’t been good at following it.”

“That’s why I know what a horrible idea it is.”

“Don’t worry, Parker. I won’t do anything you wouldn’t.” Blake went into his office and shut the door.

He didn’t need Parker to remind him that Savannah Carlisle was off-limits.

Four

Savannah surveyed the gleaming copper stills and the pipes running between them that filled the distillation room. “They’re beautiful.”

She was home. Exactly where she was meant to be, had it not been for Joseph Abbott’s treachery.

“I guess they are.” Daisy checked her watch again.

Blake’s assistant was a nice enough woman, but her limited knowledge wasn’t helpful to Savannah’s cause. If she was going to take on the powerful Abbott family and prove they’d stolen her grandfather’s bourbon recipe and his process for making it, she needed to learn everything there was to know about the making of their signature bourbon.

Daisy gave the stills a cursory glance. “I never really thought of them as beautiful.”

“I do. I just didn’t think anyone else did,” a familiar, velvety voice chimed in.

Blake again.

The man seemed to pop up everywhere. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a daily occurrence.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, Dais.” Blake held up a hand. “Just met with Klaus—our master distiller,” he added for Savannah’s benefit. “I’m surprised you’re still here. Doesn’t Daphne’s softball game start in an hour?”

“It does.” Daisy turned to Savannah. “Daphne’s my ten-year-old daughter. She’s pitching as a starter for the first time.”

“I’m sorry.” No wonder Daisy had tried to rush her through the tour. “I didn’t realize you had somewhere to be.”

“Get out of here before you’re late.” Blake nodded toward the exit. “Tell Daph I’m rooting for her.”

“What about the tour? We’re nowhere near finished. Savannah has so many questions. I haven’t done a very good job of answering them.”

“You were great, Daisy,” Savannah lied, not wanting to make her feel bad. “Your daughter’s pitching debut is more important. We can finish the tour another day.”

“Go.” Blake pointed toward the exit. “I’ll finish up here. In fact, I’ll give Savannah the deluxe tour.”

Daisy thanked them and hurried off.

“So you want to know all about the whiskey-making process.” Blake turned to Savannah. He hadn’t advanced a step, yet the space between them contracted.

“I mentioned that in my interview.” She met his gaze, acutely aware of their height difference and the broadness of his shoulders.

His fresh, woodsy scent made her want to plant her palms on his well-defined chest and press her nose to the vein visible on his neck.

“Thought that was just a clever bit to impress me.” The edge of his generous mouth pulled into a lopsided grin that made her heart beat faster.

“Now, you know that isn’t true.” Savannah held his gaze despite the violent fluttering in her belly.

She was reacting like a hormonal high-school girl with a crush on the captain of the football team.

Blake was pleasant enough on the surface, and certainly nice to look at. Okay, that was the understatement of the year. His chiseled features and well-maintained body were the stuff dreams were made of.

But he wasn’t just any pretty face and hard physique. He was an Abbott.

E-N-E-M-Y.

Her interest in this man—regardless of how good-looking he was or the sinful visions his mouth conjured—needed to stay purely professional. The only thing she wanted from Blake Abbott was insight into the history between their grandfathers.

“So you promised me the deluxe tour.”

“I did.” His appraising stare caused a contraction of muscles she hadn’t employed in far longer than she cared to admit. “Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“Are you sure?” Savannah scrambled to keep up with his long, smooth strides. “I’ve nearly caused one family crisis already. I don’t intend to start another today. So if you have a wife or kids who are expecting you—”

“That your not-so-subtle way of asking if I’m married?” He quickly pressed his lips into a harsh line. “I mean... I’m not. None of my siblings are. Our mother is sure she’s failed us somehow because we haven’t produced any grandchildren.”

“Why aren’t you married? Not you specifically,” Savannah added quickly, her cheeks hot.

“We’re all married to this place. Committed to building the empire my granddad envisioned nearly half a century ago.”

Blake held the door open and they stepped into the late-afternoon sunlight. Gravel crunched beneath their feet, forcing her to tread carefully in her tall spike heels.

They walked past the grain silos and onto a trail that led away from the warehouse. The property extended as far as she could see, a picturesque natural landscape that belonged on a postcard.

“Someone in town mentioned that you have another brother who isn’t in the business.”

“Cole runs the largest construction company in the area. With the explosion of high-end real estate around here, he’s got the least time on his hands.”

“Doesn’t bode well for those grandchildren your mother wants.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Blake agreed. “But she’s convinced that if one of us finally takes the plunge, the rest will fall like dominoes.”

“So then love is kind of like the plague?”

Blake’s deep belly laugh made her grin so hard her cheeks ached.

“I can’t disagree with that.” He was smiling, but there was sadness in his eyes. There was a story there he wasn’t willing to tell, but she suddenly wanted to hear.

The gravel gave way to a dirt path that was soft and squishy due to the recent rain. Her heels sank into the mud. “I thought we were going to start at the beginning of the tour.”

“We are.”

“But we already passed the grain silos.” She pointed in the opposite direction.

He stopped, turning to face her. “Do you know why most of the storied whiskey distilleries are based in Kentucky or here in Tennessee?”

Savannah shook her head. She’d noticed that the industry was concentrated in those two states, but hadn’t given much thought to why.

“A whiskey with a smooth finish begins with the right water source.” He pointed toward a creek and the hills that rose along the edge of the property. “See that limestone shelf? Springs deep in these limestone layers feed King’s Lake—our sole source of water. The limestone adds calcium to the water and filters out impurities like iron that would make the whiskey bitter.”

She studied the veins in the limestone shelf. “So it wouldn’t be possible to produce bourbon from another water source with the same composition and flavor?”

“Not even if you used our exact recipe.” He stood beside her, gazing reverently at the stony mountain and the waters that trickled from it. “Then there’s the matter of the yeast we use for fermentation. It’s a proprietary strain that dates back to when my great-grandfather was running his moonshine business seventy-five years ago.”

“Most distilleries openly share their grain recipe. King’s Finest doesn’t. Why?” “My grandfather tweaked the grain mixture his father used. He’s pretty territorial about it.” Blake smiled. “So we keep our mash bill and yeast strain under tight control.”

The fact that Blake’s grandfather had stolen the recipe from her grandfather was the more likely reason.

“I’m boring you, aren’t I?”

“No. This is all extremely fascinating.”

“It’s a subject I can get carried away with. Believe me, no other woman has ever used the word fascinating to describe it.”

“You still think I’m feigning interest.” Something in his stare made her cheeks warm and her chest heavy.

His lips parted and his hands clenched at his sides, but he didn’t acknowledge her statement. “We’d better head back.”

They visited the vats of corn, rye and malted barley. Next, they visited the large metal vat where the grain was cooked, creating the mash. In the fermentation room there were large, open tubs fashioned of cypress planks, filled with fermenting whiskey. The air was heavy with a scent similar to sourdough bread baking.

In the distillation room, he gave her a taste of the bourbon after it passed through the towering copper still and then again after it had made another pass through the doubler.

“It’s clear.” Savannah handed Blake back the metal cup with a long metal handle he’d used to draw a sample of the “high wine.”

Her fingers brushed his and he nearly dropped the cup, but recovered quickly.

“The rich amber color happens during the aging process.” He returned the cup to its hook, then led her through the area where the high wine was transferred to new, charred white oak barrels.

They walked through the rackhouse. Five levels of whiskey casks towered above them. Savannah fanned herself, her brow damp with perspiration, as Blake lowered his voice, speaking in a hushed, reverent tone.

“How long is the bourbon aged?”

“The signature label? Five years. Then we have the top-shelf labels aged for ten or more years.” Blake surveyed the upper racks before returning his gaze to hers. “My grandfather made so many sacrifices to create this legacy for us. I’m reminded of that whenever I come out here.”

Blake spoke of Joseph Abbott as if he were a self-sacrificing saint. But the man was a liar and a cheat. He’d sacrificed his friendship with her grandfather and deprived him of his legacy, leaving their family with nothing but hardship and pain.

Tears stung her eyes and it suddenly hurt to breathe in the overheated rackhouse. It felt as if a cask of whiskey was sitting on her chest. She gasped, the air burning her lungs.

“Are you all right?” Blake narrowed his brown eyes, stepping closer. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I’m fine.” Her breath came in short bursts and her back was damp with sweat.

“It’s hot in here. Let’s get you back in the air-conditioning. Our last stop is the bottling area.” His hand low on her back, he guided her toward the exit.

“No.” The word came out sharper than she’d intended. “I mean, I promised your father I’d get that presentation out today.”

“You told him you’d try. Do it first thing tomorrow. It’ll be fine.”

“That’s not the first impression I want to make with the company’s CEO. Or with his wife, who’s eagerly awaiting the information.” Savannah wiped the dampness from her forehead with the back of her hand. “I gave my word, and to me, that means something.”

Five

It was clear Blake had offended Savannah.

But how?

He replayed the conversation in his head. Before she’d looked at him as if he’d kicked a kitten.

They’d been talking about how his grandfather had built the company. The sacrifices he’d made for their family. How could she possibly be offended by that? Especially when she’d already expressed her admiration for his grandfather’s entrepreneurial spirit.

“If sending the presentation out tonight is that important to you, I won’t stop you. All I’m saying is...no one will hold it against you if we receive it tomorrow.”

Savannah turned on her heels, caked in dry mud from their earlier walk. She headed back toward the main building.

Even with his longer strides, he had to hurry to catch up with her. “You’d tell me if I upset you?”

“You didn’t. I’m just—” Her spiked heel got caught in the gravel, and she stumbled into his arms.

He held her for a moment, his gaze studying hers, enjoying the feel of her soft curves pressed against his hard body.

Her eyes widened and she stepped out of his grasp, muttering a quick thank-you.

“I’m angry with myself for not remembering the presentation earlier.”

“You’ve been busy all day. That’s my fault.”

“It’s no one’s fault.” She seemed to force a smile. “I appreciate the deluxe tour. What I’ve learned will be useful as I prepare my presentation. It’s given me a few other ideas.”

“That’s good, then.” Blake kneaded the back of his neck. “I’ll walk you back to your office.”

“I’d like to find it on my own. Test my sense of direction.” Savannah’s tepid smile barely turned up one corner of her mouth. She headed back to the building, calling over her shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”

When she was too far away to hear it, Blake released a noisy sigh. He returned to his office by a different route.

Despite what Savannah said, he’d clearly upset her. He couldn’t shake the gnawing need to learn why. Or the deep-seated desire to fix it so he could see the genuine smile that lit her lovely eyes, illuminating the flecks of gold.

Blake gritted his teeth.

You do not feel anything for her.

He said the words over and over in his head as he trekked back inside, past her office and straight to his.

You’re full of shit, and you know it.

Why couldn’t his stupid subconscious just cooperate and buy into the load of crock he was trying to sell himself?

There were a million reasons why he shouldn’t be thinking of Savannah Carlisle right now. Long-legged, smooth-skinned, caramel-complexioned goddess that she was.

He shouldn’t be thinking of her throaty voice. Her husky laugh. Her penetrating stare. Or the way she sank her teeth into her lower lip while in deep thought.

Blake shut his office door and loosened his tie. He dropped into the chair behind his desk, trying not to focus on the tension in his gut and the tightening of his shaft at the thought of Savannah Carlisle...naked. Sprawled across his desk.

He opened his laptop and studied spreadsheets and graphs, ignoring the most disconcerting aspect of his growing attraction for Savannah. What scared him...what was terrifying...was how Savannah Carlisle made him feel. That she’d made him feel anything at all.

Especially the kind of feelings he’d carefully avoided in the two years since Gavrilla had walked out of his life.

Since then he’d satisfied his urges with the occasional one-night stand while traveling for business. Far away from this too-small town, where every single person knew the private affairs of every other damned person.

In painful detail.

He hadn’t been looking for anything serious. Just a couple of nights in the sack. No feelings. No obligations beyond having safe, responsible sex and being gentlemanly enough never to speak of it.

But from their first meeting, he’d been drawn to Savannah. She was bold and confident. And she hadn’t begged for a shot with the company. She’d simply laid out a solid case.

He would’ve been a fool to not hire her.

Her indomitable spirit and latent sex appeal called to something deep inside him. In a way that felt significant. The feelings were completely foreign and yet deeply familiar.

He didn’t believe in love at first sight or soul mates. But if he had, he’d have sworn that Cupid had shot him the second Savannah Carlisle sashayed her curvy ass into his office.

Blake loosened the top two buttons of his shirt. Parker’s admonition played on a loop in his head. It could be summed up in five words: Don’t think with your dick.

If Parker recognized how perilous Blake’s attraction to Savannah was, he was in big trouble. He needed to slam the lid on those feelings. Seal them in an indestructible steel box fastened with iron rivets and guarded by flaming swords and a den of rattlesnakes.

Because he could never go back there again. To the pain he’d felt two years ago when Gavrilla had walked out. She’d left him for someone else. Without warning or the slightest indication she’d been unhappy.

Without giving him a chance to fix things.

In retrospect, she’d done him a favor. Their stark differences—so exciting in the beginning—had been flashing red lights warning of their incompatibility.

Blake sighed. It’d been a while since he’d taken a business-meets-pleasure excursion. Experienced the adrenaline of tumbling into bed with a stranger.

He’d have Daisy schedule a meeting with a vendor in Nashville or maybe Atlanta. Somewhere he could blend in with the nameless, faceless masses.

Anywhere but Magnolia Lake.

* * *

Blake hit Send on his final email of the night—a response to a vendor in the UK. He checked his watch. It was well after seven and Savannah’s proposal hadn’t pinged his inbox.

She’d been determined to send it before she left for the night. That meant she was still in her office working on it.