With unerring accuracy one landed between her eyes. The other smacked her chest. Fish roe slid south, disappearing between her two mounds of surgically perfected breasts.
Trent broke the silence. “Good shot!”
Claudia, wearing fish eggs and dripping venom, silenced him with a murderous look before rounding on Kat. “You…you…moron! How dare you attack me like that.”
“I’m sorry. It was an accident.” Kat tried not to laugh as she apologized.
Someone pounded a choking A.W. on the back.
“A couple bumped into her, Claudia. We’ll take care of the cleaning bill,” Andrew offered.
Trent pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at the murky mess on her chest. Claudia slapped his hand away and turned to wreak further verbal havoc on Kat.
Andrew tugged at Kat. “And now, if you’ll excuse us…they’re playing our song.”
Kat laughed with delight at Andrew’s escape tactic as he pulled her into his arms, settled her against his hard angles and whisked her away from the mess. “Since when is the orchestral rendition of ‘Old Man River’ our song?”
A devilish grin echoed her amusement. “As of about one minute ago, when I decided you’d been subjected to enough nastiness.”
Held close against his lean body, awareness of every thoroughly male inch of him tingled through her. The play of sinew and muscle against her palm, her hips and thighs, her aching breasts. The sound of his breathing mingled with her own, playing like a sensuous symphony in her head. Kat trembled with the hot heat that flooded her and pooled into a slick wetness at the juncture of her thighs. She ached for this man, and this man alone.
Concern darkened his eyes to storm gray as he sobered. “Are you okay?” His hand tightened on her waist.
No. She wanted to shout at him. You could break my heart if I let you. Actually, he was well on his way without her permission.
And she’d better remember where she was and her role for the evening.
“I’m fine. It really was an accident, you know.” Kat smiled adoringly at Andrew and picked an imaginary speck of lint off his lapel for the benefit of their guests. “Admit it. I did you a big, big favor when I saved you from Claudia. She’s dreadful.”
Andrew pulled her closer still, the rush of charged sensuality sizzling between them echoed in the pounding of his heart beneath her cheek and the hard ridge pressed intimately against her. “Mmm. I suppose I owe you a favor in return.”
A wolf had jumped into the clothing of the safe, although sexy, sheep she’d married. Short of dying from desire, which seemed imminent, she pretended not to hear his suggestive comment.
“What in the world did you ever see in her?” Claudia’s surgically enhanced bosoms and jutting hipbones came to mind. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.” Kat peered past his shoulder. “It’s your turn to meet the in-laws. Dad and Phoebe just arrived. And let me tell you, Phoebe elevates bitchiness to new heights.”
“GLAD YOU COULD MAKE IT.”
Rand Hamilton possessed the handshake of a dead fish-limp and slimy-Andrew decided, fighting the urge to wipe his palm down the side of his trousers.
“We would have come to the wedding, too, but we weren’t invited.” Phoebe Hamilton’s tone dripped with saccharine sweetness.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Phoebe. But we wanted to keep it simple.”
Andrew admired the way Kat handled Phoebe, Claudia and his mother-graciousness with an edge. An exceptional woman, his temporary wife.
“I must say, you two are quite the odd couple. Katrina’s always been somewhat…shall we say, eccentric,” Rand drawled down the fine line of his nose.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“You know exceptional people often are.” Andrew’s look dared Rand to dispute him.
“Handsome, rich and clever. However did you manage, darling? Well, never mind. Let’s just hope you can keep this one.” Phoebe smiled, a barracuda swathed in silk as she raised a glass of champagne in a mocking salute.
Rand Hamilton’s wife did elevate bitchiness to new heights. Made Andrew reconsider that there just might be someone for everyone in the world.
Color washed Kat’s face. She might have bargained a name for her baby, but when they divorced she’d face a host of unkind comments if Phoebe proved any barometer.
Moving behind her, Andrew bracketed Kat’s shoulders with his hands and eased her against his chest, trying to absorb some of the tension radiating from her. Her untamed hair tickled against his chin, and he breathed in the citrus shampoo she favored.
“Frankly, Mrs. Hamilton, I’m honored a woman of Kat’s caliber was ever interested in me.” Sincerity marked each word, scorching him with the truth. He’d been married to his career for a long time, and he’d lived with his emotional detachment even longer. Kat stirred feelings in him he thought had withered and died long ago.
Beneath his fingertips, some of the tension eased from Kat’s shoulders.
“We trust you don’t have any plans to embezzle,” Rand observed with a clever smile.
“Or run off with your secretary,” Phoebe added.
Andrew felt Kat’s flinch.
Phoebe portrayed contrived dismay. “Oh dear. I guess you didn’t tell your Andy about Nick taking his secretary with him when he skipped the country with his millions. I never would have mentioned it had I known.”
“Nick Devereaux is a son of a bitch and deserves to have his ass kicked one day.” Andrew’s tone left no doubt he knew just the man for the job. And he meant every word.
Rand and Phoebe Hamilton gaped.
Kat gasped and muttered, “Take a number.”
Andrew continued. “I’d appreciate it if you’d bear in mind that I don’t like being compared to Nick. In fact I don’t particularly like to hear his name mentioned.” He smiled his most charming smile to the speechless couple. “If it’s all the same to you, of course.”
His gaze locked with Kat’s and he felt ten feet tall at the surprise and admiration reflected in her eyes. Nick wasn’t just a jerk, he was a stupid jerk.
“Look, honey, here comes Juliana. I guess she’s over that highly contagious strep throat if Eddie and Bitsy brought her, huh?” Kat asked with feigned concern.
Juliana was as healthy as a horse, make that a small pony, but he noted the look that passed between Rand and Phoebe.
“Actually, I think she’s still a little under the weather, but the baby-sitter backed out at the last minute.” He leaned in toward the Hamiltons confidingly. “Good help is so hard to find.”
Now there was a topic Phoebe could relate to-woes with the domestic help. Fortunately she was too repulsed by a sick child to embrace that soapbox. “Absolutely. Rand, darling, I believe I see Senator Bertram over there. If you’ll excuse us…”
Rand and Phoebe beat a hasty retreat at the threat of impending germs.
“Well done, my dear. Masterful, in fact.”
Kat glowed at the compliment.
Juliana concluded her march across the room-a six-year-old with a mission. She stopped before them, curiosity dancing in her brown eyes.
“Hi, there. Everything okay?” he asked. Juliana stared at him as if he were a bug under a microscope.
“I’m not sure yet. Could you pick me up, Uncle Andrew?” Juliana’s thin, reedy voice held a note of worry.
For a split second, Andrew looked to Kat for insight. She shook her head, shrugging her puzzlement.
“Sure. I can pick you up.” He reassured Juliana as he hoisted her in his arms. “What’s the matter?”
Juliana’s gaze darted between him and Kat.
“Do I need to leave, sweetie, so you can talk to Uncle Andrew alone?” Kat offered softly.
Juliana weighed the question. “No, it’s okay.” With a determined thrust of her little chin, she began tugging at Andrew’s shirt.
Andrew started in surprise, nearly dropping her.
“I knew Mommy was wrong. Daddy too, ’cause he said she might be right.” A snaggletoothed grin split her face. “All your buttons are still on real tight. Mommy told Daddy you weren’t buttoned up so tight since you’d married Aunt Kat, but you are too.” She gave his shirt another yank to prove her point.