She unzipped her suitcase and faced him clutching a handful of serviceable white underwear. “Which dresser drawers do I get?”
“Those three.” Andrew motioned to the trio nearest the bathroom.
She didn’t respond until she’d pitched the cotton panties into the drawer and turned to stare him in the eye, her blue gaze unwavering. “Not particularly galling. More along the lines of inconvenient.”
He groaned mentally. Now she’d relegated him to an inconvenience. “One thing you couldn’t take care of on your own?”
“You don’t have to make it sound as if I’m eccentric.”
“I’d settle for unusual.”
“Nothing unusual, nothing eccentric, nothing hidden. What you see is what you get. This is it.” She threw her arms wide and then dropped them to her side. “I just don’t want to be played for a fool again. Ever. I freely admit to making a fool of myself occasionally. And I’ve been known to do things others considered somewhat foolish-marrying you, according to Jackson-but I will never, ever allow anyone to play me for a fool again.”
Andrew uttered a single word. “Nick?”
Kat carried another handful of underwear to the drawer and nodded. “While an international audience watched-so, thank you very much, once was enough.”
Would she think he’d played her for a fool? That hadn’t been his intent in changing the terms of their prenuptial agreement. Rather he’d seen it as simply protecting his own. He knew Kat’s interpretation would differ. It was a good thing he wasn’t in this for the long haul or committed to a real marriage because he’d shot that chance to hell with those contract changes.
“Devereaux was a fool.” A nagging sense of guilt lent his voice harshness.
Her sunny smile seared him. “I appreciate your gallantry, but actually Nick did me a favor. I took a good hard look at my life, reevaluated my priorities, and learned an important lesson.”
Kat brushed her hands together, dismissing the subject, and rooted through the jumbled mess in her suitcase. She pulled out a gift-wrapped package and tossed it onto the bed between them. “I bought you a wedding gift this morning.” Her voice was demure, but her eyes danced with devilment.
Andrew played her game and prodded the package with one finger. “Should I expect an explosion?”
A sly smile curved her full lips. “That depends on you.”
He picked up the package-obviously a book-and ripped at the paper, fully expecting how-to instructions on becoming pregnant with the least amount of bother.
However, one glimpse at the cover and a gut-wrenching laugh rumbled through him. “I’ll treasure it always.” He grinned at her cheekiness. “It was far too thoughtful.”
His own playful attitude sobered him. He reminded himself she was a means to an end. The key to his partnership. Nothing more.
He shoved off the bed. “I’m heading into the office for a couple of hours. I’ll be back around five. Make yourself at home.”
Andrew placed 101 Uses for A Dead Lawyer on the nightstand and got the hell out of their bedroom.
KAT HUMMED A NOTHING TUNE as she tamped potting soil around the final clump of fuchsia petunias. She wiped her grimy hands across her thighs and lugged the clay pot around the corner of the house as Andrew turned into the driveway.
He’d told her to make herself at home and she’d taken him at his word. With a quick visit to a nursery and the lovely potting shed out back, she’d added some much needed color to the monochrome landscape.
All the plants she’d bought, she’d potted. Like herself, none were here to stay. She’d take them with her when she left. In the meantime, they offered friendly faces in a strange place. Not to mention she’d worked off a little tension. Even though it was her idea to marry Andrew, she’d been nervous earlier.
Kat arranged the newcomer at just the right angle to complete the grouping of potted plants now sitting by the front door. The mix of gaily colored flowers spilled forth a welcome, their perfumed sweetness hanging in the humid heat. The crunch of Andrew’s footsteps and the feel of his gaze on her back sorely tested her concentration.
“I see you found the nursery center and the potting shed.”
She turned to face him. He stood as handsome and immaculate as he’d been when he’d left earlier in the day. No wrinkled shirts or mussed hair on her husband. In contrast, Kat felt positively grubby in her sweaty T-shirt and dirt-stained shorts.
She indicated the mass of color with a flick of her wrist. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s different.”
The rioting reds, yellows, purples and hot pinks overflowing the clay pots punctuated the endless green of the landscape. Judging from his tone, Andrew didn’t find that pleasing.
“Why does different sound like a dirty word when you say it?”
“I don’t mean for it to. It just takes some getting used to.”
“Well, you told me to make myself at home. Once I unpacked my one suitcase there wasn’t really anything for me to do and I noticed the nursery on my way over this morning. And, there’s really nothing I’d rather have been doing.”
“You made that abundantly clear earlier.”
“That’s not what I meant. I like working with plants. Digging in the dirt is good therapy.” She smiled spontaneously.
“Probably cheaper than stretching out on a therapist’s couch.” Andrew returned her smile. Not the polite gesture he’d offered before but a heart-stopping, genuine smile.
Kat’s breath lodged somewhere in her chest. She swallowed hard.
How had a discussion on plants suddenly turned so intimate? One minute it was purple fountain grass and red salvia, the next she could hardly breathe.
“Uh-huh,” she managed to say.
Andrew rubbed his flat belly. “I’m starving. What do you say to Chinese? I know a great place that delivers.”
Food. Now they were on safe ground.
“Mmm. How fast can they get it here?”
“Come on in and let’s order.”
Kat toed off her ratty gardening sneakers and followed him into the house. She stood inside the front door, awed once again by the initial impact of the eight-foot aquarium. Would she get used to this before she left?
Andrew stopped and scrutinized the flowers she’d arranged in the den. The unusual tropicals complemented the exotic fish. Along with the aquarium, they offered a splash of vibrancy amidst the room’s neutrals.
“I put flowers in every room. What can I say? You like fish. I like plants.”
Andrew resumed his course to the kitchen. “It’s a nice touch.”
Kat wanted to believe him, but a small frown drew his brows together. He opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out a worn menu, then laid it on top of the island.
He gestured toward the purple iris gracing a crystal vase. “Mrs. Fitzwillie will love these.”
For once, an issue took precedence over sustenance. Her new husband’s approval was suddenly important. She’d lived with disapproval for a long time. She couldn’t remember a time her father hadn’t disapproved of her. Jackson clearly doubted the wisdom of her marriage to Andrew. She’d decided after the fiasco with Nick, the only approval that mattered was that of the school board because it affected her career. Otherwise she wouldn’t be here now.
Kat left the menu where it lay and scrubbed the potting soil off her hands and forearms. She grabbed a hand towel and assured herself it was only because it was his home that his approval mattered. “What about you? Do you love them?”
Cynicism shaped his mouth into a semblance of a smile as he unbuttoned his shirt cuffs. “They’re fine, but cut flowers don’t last long. Even if I do like them, they won’t be around long, right?”
She traced the gleaming white tile on the island with a ragged nail and shrugged. “Well, then I can just replace them.”
He rolled up one sleeve, baring a tanned forearm. “Do whatever you need to do to feel comfortable for as long as you’re here.” He dealt with the other sleeve with equal efficiency.