New and…Improved? & Andrew in Excess

mean nothing to him.

“It was a long time ago and I was young.”

Kat’s non-answer told everything. Not that it mattered to him anyway.

Andrew lowered himself to the sofa, automatically creasing his trousers.

Kat thrust the phone toward him. “Your turn.”

Andrew declined. “A.W. and Mother are entertaining our esteemed senator this afternoon on their boat. I guess we’ll both break the news later in the day.”

“I’ve still got another call. I have a mother you know.” She punched in a series of numbers.

“The one with the dead president and Russian nobility fixations.”

“One and the same. Hello, Mom?…yes, I know I should’ve told you I was seeing someone. But, I need to tell you…yes, Mom, he is quite a looker, but I need to tell you…”

Apparently even the loquacious Kat was no match for her mother. Kat heaved a sigh and took a deep breath, straining her breasts against the bright blue dress and accelerating his pulse.

“Mom, I’m married,” she announced. “What do you mean who? Of course the one with his hand on my thigh!”

From his seat on the couch, Andrew heard the warbled tone on the other end of the line escalate in volume. Kat held the phone away from her ear.

“Today…yes, I know you’re going out of town for the week.” She threw Andrew a panicked look and motioned frantically. “My new phone number? Okay, I’ll hold while you get a pen and paper.” She covered the mouthpiece and hissed, “Quick, what’s your number? I can’t not know your number…our number…if I just married you.”

Andrew scribbled the number on the back of a magazine off the end table.

Kat grabbed it from him as he wrote the final number and relayed it to her mother. She wrote a single word and shoved it at him.

Birthday?

He mouthed the information and she repeated it into the phone. “Okay, call me when you get to California and get settled in.”

She clicked the off button and rubbed the back of her neck. The same neck he remembered as warm and silky. “Whew. At least that’s over.”

“What’s the birthday all about?”

Kat launched herself out of the chair. “Numerology. She and my stepfather leave this afternoon for a New Age convention in California. She wanted to get a fix on your numbers on the way out.”

He’d heard of mismatched couples, but Kat’s parents won the prize. “She was married to Rand?”

“The numerology came after the divorce, but they’re a case in point. Opposites may attract, but it’s only for a short period of time.”

Andrew reasoned the attraction he felt for his wife was novel. Kat Devereaux Winthrop stood apart from any woman he’d met before. So he was attracted to her quirkiness. Unusual on his part, but not totally irrational. He further reasoned the novelty would wear off quick enough and he’d be back on an even keel.

He hoped it was damn soon.

KAT TRAILED DOWN THE HALL behind Andrew, the plush beige carpet absorbing their steps. Aside from the overwhelming neutrality of the interior, the house was quite lovely. A long rectangle, all interior rooms opened onto a central courtyard with a small garden pond.

The home tour was almost over and Kat vowed not to walk behind Andrew once she knew her way around. It was too darned distracting-which was why she didn’t hear what he said. She was too busy appreciating the immediate view.

“Huh?”

Andrew stopped abruptly and Kat plowed into him. She latched onto the first thing she came in contact with to steady herself. Taut, firm buttocks tightened under her touch. She resisted the urge to squeeze, instead dropping her hands to her side immediately.

“Sorry about that. Um, what were you saying?”

Andrew turned to face her and the hallway seemed to shrink considerably. “I said, this is our room.”

He threw open the door behind him and ushered her inside. A general impression of more of the same hit her, but the bed captured her attention. Swathed in yards of mosquito netting draped from the ceiling, it dominated one wall. Kind of erotic that netting…visions of her and Andrew playing a private game of Tarzan and Jane beckoned like a jumbo pack of double-stuffed Oreos.

“Our as in yours and whose?”

“Our as in yours and mine.”

Kat quivered at the thought of those tight buns snuggled up next to her every night. “Um, thanks, but that’s really not necessary. You’ve got plenty of space and I’ll be happy in any of your guest rooms.” She’d bargained for sharing a house when they got married. She’d even bargained for sleeping together-after all, she intended to make a baby-but sharing a bedroom for however long she was here insured an intimacy she hadn’t bargained on.

“Absolutely out of the question.”

She didn’t care for his tone. “Why? Give me one good reason.”

“I could give you several, but for starters I refuse to have Mrs. Fitzwillie speculating as to why we don’t share a room.”

“So, for your pride’s sake we have to-”

Andrew cut her off. “No. My pride plays a secondary role, but Mrs. Fitzwillie would be devastated if she found out I’d entered into an arrangement.” His entire countenance softened. “Her husband died just before she came to work for me. They didn’t have any children and she was lonely. In the past nine years, she’s been more like a mother to me than my own mother.”

Well, Kat wasn’t exactly thrilled about disappointing a nice little old lady-especially one who cooked-but there had to be a way around sharing a bed with this man on a nightly basis. She knew herself. Too much of a good thing… “I could get up before she gets here and she’d never know.”

“She’d know.” Andrew advanced until he stood before her. He clamped his hands on her shoulders and drew her to him. His voice lowered to a provocative level. “For Mrs. Fitzwillie to believe anything less than we’re passionately, head-over-heels in love is not acceptable.” His hands slid to her upper arms in a caress.

Expensive cologne mingled with his essential maleness, the heady scent intoxicating her. Even as she swayed toward him, she objected, “I’m not sure either one of us is up to pretending to be head-over-heels in love.”

His breath brushed the planes of her face as he lowered his mouth to hers. “Then we’ll just have to practice.”

His lips nuzzled and nipped at hers until she responded to his sensual coaxing. His tongue teased the moist heat of her mouth and her nipples tightened in desire of such ministrations. An aching lethargy unfurled between her thighs.

The giving, generous kiss brought to mind his consideration for Mrs. Fitzwillie. Kat anticipated cool courtesy for his employee, but his tender concern dismayed her. The thought had her wriggling out of his arms and stepping out of reach.

His eyes questioned her. The hand he ran through his midnight-black hair trembled.

“I’ll do my best to uphold my end with Mrs. Fitzwillie.” Her own hand proved unsteady as she combed her fingers through her hair, but she strove for a flippant tone. “And we’ll share this bed, but just for the record, Toto always sleeps in my room.”

“Not on the bed.”

“No, he has his own bed, but in the room.” Kat swallowed a smirk. One night of Toto’s snoring and Andrew would beg her to move into a guest room.

“Okay.”

Kat backed toward the bedroom door. “I’ll go get my suitcase.”

“Can I help?” Every vestige of softness and passion had vanished, replaced by his customary cool and correct demeanor.