Read Online Saving You, Saving Me by Kailin Gow - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kailin Gow
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look angry. “Sam,” he said looking from Collins McGregor to me. “You’re a grown woman now, just be careful. I worry about you.”
“Michael,” I said, rolling my eyes. “When have you started to worry about me?”
“I do,” he said simply.
“Oh Michael, there you are!” a very pretty redhead in a white eyelet sundress walked up. Emily Johnson, a senior at UC Irvine and the head of her sorority there, glanced over at me. “Hi, Sam,” she said coolly, before turning her attention to Michael. She stopped and turned around like a ballerina to look at Collins McGregor, and did a double take. “I know you,” she said. “You’re in the Newport News and all the society papers. You’re Collins McGregor of The Collins Companies.” She extended a hand. “I’m Emily Johnson.” Her eyes perused Collins McGregor’s body before reaching his face, and it was clear she had lost interest in Michael or whatever she was going to discuss with him.
Collins McGregor took her hand and shook it. Then he turned to me, grabbed my hand and said, “I believe we were just leaving.” He nodded at Michael before pulling me out of the hallway, out of the church, and into his silver sports car.
He opened his car door and said, “Get in.”
I slid into the passenger side, dropping my purse on the ground.
He pulled the car out of the lot and expertly maneuvered it to head down the hill the church was on and onto the main street. He was silent for a while, his face expressionless.
“Um, nice car,” I said. “You handle it well.”
He smiled, the tension around the corners of his mouth gone. “Yeah, I like it. It’s my baby. An Aston Martin.”
“Like James Bond?” I asked, arching my eyebrows and cocking my head slightly.
He looked over at me then and there it was again, that look. Dark, hungry.
I licked my lips.
“Sam,” he said softly. “Do you realize how sexy you look when you do that?”
“I didn’t realize I was doing something sexy,” I said looking at him with wide-eyed innocence.
Collins McGregor looked down and said, “Perhaps you don’t. I forgot, you’re so innocent. So young.” He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it off his face.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. His profile was as beautiful as a sculpted statue. His hair windswept, and that tortured look. Oh my goodness. I wanted to wipe that look of anguish off his face, to touch him, to kiss him.
“This is a mistake,” he said, his eyes like steel as he resigned himself to a decision. “What am I doing? We should head back.”
“Why?” I asked. “What is a mistake?” I reached out my hand to touch his on the steering wheel. My heart was beating so fast. “Tell me, Collins. I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re so cryptic, and I don’t know what you want. All I know is that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met.” I used a finger to trace his hand on the steering wheel, and heard him take a sharp intake.
“Please don’t do that,” he said.
I pulled my hand away from his, and looked out the window. He sighed, but kept driving.
I felt like crying all of a sudden. I hadn’t felt so much for a man before, hadn’t wanted a man this much before to touch me, to kiss me. Collins McGregor with his Hot Bod and All Sexiness had swept me off my feet from day one and I couldn’t help this longing, of wanting. “If you didn’t feel the same, why did you come find me at church?”
He kept his eyes on the road, but he glanced down briefly before saying, very softly, barely a whisper. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, too.” He turned his icy blue eyes to me then, pinning me to my seat. He took a breath and asked, “Do you have any feelings for him?”
“Who?” I asked,
“Michael,” I said, rolling my eyes. “When have you started to worry about me?”
“I do,” he said simply.
“Oh Michael, there you are!” a very pretty redhead in a white eyelet sundress walked up. Emily Johnson, a senior at UC Irvine and the head of her sorority there, glanced over at me. “Hi, Sam,” she said coolly, before turning her attention to Michael. She stopped and turned around like a ballerina to look at Collins McGregor, and did a double take. “I know you,” she said. “You’re in the Newport News and all the society papers. You’re Collins McGregor of The Collins Companies.” She extended a hand. “I’m Emily Johnson.” Her eyes perused Collins McGregor’s body before reaching his face, and it was clear she had lost interest in Michael or whatever she was going to discuss with him.
Collins McGregor took her hand and shook it. Then he turned to me, grabbed my hand and said, “I believe we were just leaving.” He nodded at Michael before pulling me out of the hallway, out of the church, and into his silver sports car.
He opened his car door and said, “Get in.”
I slid into the passenger side, dropping my purse on the ground.
He pulled the car out of the lot and expertly maneuvered it to head down the hill the church was on and onto the main street. He was silent for a while, his face expressionless.
“Um, nice car,” I said. “You handle it well.”
He smiled, the tension around the corners of his mouth gone. “Yeah, I like it. It’s my baby. An Aston Martin.”
“Like James Bond?” I asked, arching my eyebrows and cocking my head slightly.
He looked over at me then and there it was again, that look. Dark, hungry.
I licked my lips.
“Sam,” he said softly. “Do you realize how sexy you look when you do that?”
“I didn’t realize I was doing something sexy,” I said looking at him with wide-eyed innocence.
Collins McGregor looked down and said, “Perhaps you don’t. I forgot, you’re so innocent. So young.” He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it off his face.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. His profile was as beautiful as a sculpted statue. His hair windswept, and that tortured look. Oh my goodness. I wanted to wipe that look of anguish off his face, to touch him, to kiss him.
“This is a mistake,” he said, his eyes like steel as he resigned himself to a decision. “What am I doing? We should head back.”
“Why?” I asked. “What is a mistake?” I reached out my hand to touch his on the steering wheel. My heart was beating so fast. “Tell me, Collins. I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re so cryptic, and I don’t know what you want. All I know is that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met.” I used a finger to trace his hand on the steering wheel, and heard him take a sharp intake.
“Please don’t do that,” he said.
I pulled my hand away from his, and looked out the window. He sighed, but kept driving.
I felt like crying all of a sudden. I hadn’t felt so much for a man before, hadn’t wanted a man this much before to touch me, to kiss me. Collins McGregor with his Hot Bod and All Sexiness had swept me off my feet from day one and I couldn’t help this longing, of wanting. “If you didn’t feel the same, why did you come find me at church?”
He kept his eyes on the road, but he glanced down briefly before saying, very softly, barely a whisper. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, too.” He turned his icy blue eyes to me then, pinning me to my seat. He took a breath and asked, “Do you have any feelings for him?”
“Who?” I asked,
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