“Yeah, that’s what I say.”
And his delectable wife was driving him mad. More than once this week, thoughts of Kat and their baby had disrupted his concentration. He’d found himself considering the reality of being a real, long-term husband and dad. Nothing had ever interfered with his work before.
And then there were the endless nights with her curled up beside him, when she would slide a silky leg between his in her sleep. But there was no need to share that with Toto.
“Sorry I took so long. I’m ready.” The cause of his insanity, or at the least, his insomnia, glided down the hall. Exotic. Elegant. Maddening.
Her dress, patterned in vibrant colors, clung and flowed in the appropriate places. He cleared the knot of desire wedged in his throat.
“This is for you. I hope you like it.” He thrust a small bouquet of flowers toward her, feeling-and sounding- as gauche as a teenager on his first prom date. “They’re for your hair.”
“What, no muzzle?” Her sapphire eyes sparkled.
“It wouldn’t be fair to deprive our guests of your delightful wit. It’s half your charm.”
Her eyebrows skewed a question. “And the other half?”
Unbidden, a list formed in his head. Her sunny smile, her enthusiasm for her work, her loyalty-that wreck she called a car was parked in the garage because she refused to consign it to a scrap yard-her fierce independence, the feel of her hips beneath his… Andrew shook his head in mock disapproval. “A lady never digs for a compliment.”
“And a gentleman never makes her.” She dropped her head forward to admire the bouquet, revealing a freckled expanse of neck that tempted him to trail kisses along its satin smoothness. “But thanks for these. How’d you know they’re my favorites?”
He shrugged off her thanks and thrust his hands into his pockets. “I’ve seen them around the house.”
Kat arched a brow. “And you knew the name of them?”
Dammit. Why couldn’t she just leave well enough alone?
“No. I picked them out at the florist.”
“You actually picked out flowers that’re just going to die?” A cheeky grin relieved her comment of any sting.
“They’re only required on a temporary basis, as long as they last through the evening. I thought tonight might be difficult for you, and knowing how you feel about flowers, I thought you’d enjoy them, that’s all.”
As Kat smelled the bouquet, Andrew inhaled her uniquely sweet scent. She eyed him over the flowers. “Why’d you think tonight would be a problem?”
Did she have to examine everything under a microscope and then discuss it?
“I didn’t say ‘problem.’ I said ‘difficult.’ You once mentioned boycotting cocktail parties.” He wasn’t deaf to vicious society gossip, and he knew she’d borne the brunt of many wagging tongues with Nick’s desertion. He’d just wanted to make tonight a little easier for her.
“It’s true, I’d prefer a quick and tidy flogging.” She stepped over to the mirror hanging in the hallway and clipped the flowers in her hair. “But then I wouldn’t have gotten these, and they’re beautiful.”
“No. You’re beautiful.” Just where in the hell had that come from?
“Thanks. We both know I’m not.” She tugged a curl into submission. “But thanks anyway.” Kat eyed him from his combed hair to the tips of his polished shoes, her blatant approval tightening his groin. “You don’t clean up too badly, yourself.”
Her flippancy about her appearance annoyed him. Facing the crowd at the reception tonight would be tough for her-hell, his parents alone would be enough to send anyone running. She needed every ounce of available self-confidence.
Besides, he spoke the truth. She was beautiful.
“Stop it, Kat.”
She halted in the middle of putting on her earrings, eyeing him as if he’d suggested they dance naked in the street. “What? It’s just an earring.”
He waved a hand. “I couldn’t give a damn about the earring. Don’t tell me you’re not beautiful.”
A hint of vulnerability shadowed her blue eyes before she masked it. “There’s no audience here. Save it for the party, Andrew. You don’t need the practice.” Kat turned away from him. “I’ll be in the car.”
Andrew watched the play of silk fabric over her hips and rounded behind in bemused fascination. He’d always considered himself fairly adept with women.
Until his wife.
7
“DO YOU KNOW WHAT he had the nerve to say to me tonight?” Kat fumed.
Bitsy backed her further into the empty corner of the club ballroom. “What?”
“He told me I was beautiful.” She all but spit out the last word. And she’d believed it for one brief moment. Her choices had been indignation or puddling at his feet. She’d opted for the safest and tidiest of the two-indignation. “Can you believe it?”
“String him up. That’s the sentence I’d hand down for something so offensive.” Bitsy waved a cheese cracker for emphasis. “Imagine. He called you beautiful.” Rolling her eyes in mock disgust, she popped the cracker into her mouth.
A uniformed waiter flourished a champagne-laden tray before them. Kat passed a glass to Bitsy.
“Go ahead. Make fun. It just gets worse.” She touched her hair bouquet, careful not to damage the fragile flowers. “To top it off, he gave me these.”
Kat swigged the effervescent wine.
“That brother of mine! It’s barbaric-a compliment and flowers for his wife.”
“For goodness’ sake, Bitsy. He’s not supposed to do these things.” She lowered her voice as a guest drifted by. “He only wants his stinking partnership. And I only want my baby.” A baby with gray eyes and a thatch of black hair.
“Are you sure about that?”
Kat wasn’t sure of anything anymore. She felt as if she was standing on shifting sand. And she loathed sand. “We signed an agreement.”
“Well, hey. You’ve got your agreement, so I don’t see what the problem is.” Bitsy peered over Kat’s shoulder, “Unless you consider that Mother and Father just arrived. Oops. And there’s Claudia bringing up the rear with her date.” Bitsy grabbed Kat’s arm. “Come on. It’s party time!”
“YOUR PARENTS ARE HERE.” Playing to their guests’ expectations, Kat slid her arm about Andrew’s waist, and was surprised to find odd comfort in his solid warmth.
“I know.” Andrew dropped an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her closer. His breath stirred against her temple, unleashing a rising tide of need. “Let’s get this over with.” With a subtle movement of his broad shoulders, he nudged her in the direction of the older Winthrops.
The band segued into a classical piece reminiscent of a funeral dirge. Kat considered it an omen on her imminent meeting of the in-laws. Actually, with Andrew by her side, she wasn’t nearly as uptight as she’d anticipated.
Nodding and smiling at guests, they skirted the room.
“There’s no doubt who you look like.” Andrew was a replica of his father, except for A.W.’s gray hair and lined face-and a ruthless air mercifully absent in Andrew. Her husband might possess an aloofness, but she’d seen more than a generous amount of kindness in him, as well. A.W. didn’t look as if “kind” existed in his vocabulary.
“Yes, I’ve always been my father’s son.”
And none too pleased about it, if his tone was anything to go on. Did he base his own supposed shortcomings as a husband and father on the fact he shared similarities with his father? Kat tucked the thought away to examine later.
“Your mother looks much younger than your father.”
“Actually, only a year or so. Mother believes in aging as gracefully as financially possible. It’s the up side of keeping one of the finest plastic surgeons on retainer.”