by CATHY L. CLAMP; FRANCIS RAY; BEVERLY JENKINS; MONICA JACKSON; GERI GUILLAUME
Eyes closed as Glenda worked up a lather in her thick gray hair, Augusta answered, “I’ll be fine. Take your time.”
Andrea headed for the door. By the time she reached her car, she had her keys out. Six minutes later she was parked at Memorial Hospital. Another three and she stood in front of Michelle’s desk. They’d gone to elementary and high school together. “Hi, Michelle. Is Nicholas in?”
“Hi, Andrea,” Michelle greeted her, then frowned and glanced toward the closed door behind her. “He’s in, but he asked that he not be disturbed. I guess you know why.”
Andrea’s fingers tightened on her bag. And it’s about to get worse. “This is important. Please ask him if I can have a few minutes of his time.”
“Well, since you’re Mrs. Augusta’s niece, he probably won’t mind.” Leaning over, Michelle pressed the intercom. “Nicholas, Andrea Strickland is here to see you. She says it’s important.”
“Send her in.”
Swallowing nervously, Andrea opened the door. Nicholas was already striding across his office toward her. The sight of him caused her heart to pound, her pulse to leap. She’d almost forgotten how handsome he was.
He frowned. “What is it? What happened?”
Andrea moistened her dry lips. “I don’t know how to tell you this except to just say it. Auntie just told the women in the beauty shop that the wish woman is one of the town’s own. In a couple of hours it will be all over town. While it will stop the women from surrounding towns who may have heard about the wish by working in the hospital or through gossip, those from Jubilee will be even more enthusiastic about the wish.”
For a long moment he simply stared at her. “Do you know how difficult these last days have been for me?”
Andrea heard the underlying frustration in his voice and reached out to touch his arm. A little jolt raced from the tips of her fingers back up her arm. She quickly withdrew her hand, but not before she felt the muscled hardness beneath the fine wool suit coat. “It’s difficult now, but it will work out.”
“In the meantime, what am I supposed to do?” he asked, gesturing toward his desk. “I can’t get a thing done. The hospital board hired me to get Memorial out of the red, to make it profitable and efficient. I can’t do that now with these women showing up every place I go.”
She’d already guessed he was conscientious. He took his responsibility to the hospital seriously. He didn’t like not being able to do the job he’d been hired for . . . or being on display. Everywhere she’d gone for the past few days, his name had been mentioned. Successful, intelligent, and handsome—what woman wouldn’t want him? “I’m sorry, Nicholas.”
Nicholas saw the distress in her eyes, and his irritation evaporated. She had such a capacity for empathy. Her eyes were clear of guile and deceit. She’d want him for himself, not because of some wish. The thought brought him up short. He stepped back.
“Is there a problem?”
His pager vibrated, saving him. Pulling it from his belt, he threw it a sharp glance, scowled, then deleted the number. “I’ve changed numbers twice and they continue to find me.”
A knock sounded on the door; then Michelle stuck her head inside, a worried frown on her face. “I think you’d better take this call. It’s Kay Smith, a reporter from the local newspaper.”
“What does she want?” Nicholas asked.
Michelle glanced from Andrea to Nicholas. “She’s heard about the wish and she wants to do a story.”
He scowled. “Tell her I’m not in.”
“I’ll tell her, but it won’t stop Kay.” The door closed.
Nicholas shoved both hands over his hair. “This has got to stop.”
“It will. Unfortunately, the women have tied the wish pot and your wish together. But once . . . once you find her, the other women will realize they don’t have a chance and they’ll leave you alone,” Andrea said, experiencing a pang of remorse that it wouldn’t be her.
“What?” His hands lowered.
Happy that she could finally help, Andrea continued. “Everyone knows it’s just a matter of time before you find the woman you wished for. Once you find her, the other women will bow out.”
“You mean a woman got me into this mess and a woman can get me out?” he asked.
She shifted uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t have put it that way, but essentially what you said is true.”
A wide grin split his face. “If that’s all it takes, I’ve already found her.”
Misery swept through her. “Who is she?”
“You.”
Chapter 4
“What!”
“You said you’d help me. This is your chance,” Nicholas rushed to say. “If people believe you’re the woman I wished for, they’ll leave me alone and I can get back to running the hospital.”
Andrea looked at the excitement on his face and wanted to kick him on the shin for making her foolishly hope he felt anything for her, and at the same time wanting to join him in his happiness. “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, Nicholas.”
He stepped closer. “Please. You have to help me. You’re the only woman I can turn to.”
Andrea gazed into his dark eyes and gorgeous face and felt herself weakening. “I don’t like the idea of fooling people.”
“Please,” he repeated, an engaging smile on his face. “You’re my only hope.”
She shook her head. Nicholas wasn’t for her. “Family members have always been excluded from Auntie’s wishes.”
His hands gently circled her upper arms. “The townspeople don’t know that, do they?”
“I-I don’t think so.” It should be against the law for a man to touch a woman and fry every circuit in her brain. Why wasn’t she telling him no?
“Then, this will work.” He grinned liked a little boy on Christmas morning who’d had every wish granted.
“What about the woman you wished for?” she asked weakly.
He tsked. “If there is such a woman and we’re fated to be together, it won’t matter what you and I do. This wish woman and I will see each other and no power on earth will be able to keep us apart.”
Andrea’s spirit sank. Nicholas was joking, but that’s exactly how it would be. “I believe in my aunt’s gift.”
“Then prove it,” he challenged. “Go out with me.”
“Out?”
“If, as you say, this wish woman and I are destined to be together, you and I going out won’t matter, and it would get all these women out of my face,” he said, obviously warming to his plan. “You aren’t seeing anyone, are you?”
“It would certainly put a cramp in your plan, wouldn’t it?” she evaded. It wasn’t fair that he could turn her into mush when he’d never be hers.
His dark eyes narrowed, the look in them hard. “Are you?”
She allowed herself all of two seconds to think that was possessiveness she saw in Nicholas’s eyes and not simply irritation because a man in her life would interfere with his plans. “No. I’m not seeing anyone.”
His fingers flexed. “Good.” Releasing her, he stepped back and slipped his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks. “What are you doing tonight?”
“I thought I’d work on my special project,” she said slowly. How ironic; she had reached the part in her book where Melissa had to rescue Braxton.
“Could you spare a couple of hours? The president of the hospital board is having a small get-together at his house. I’d like to take you.”
“You certainly aren’t wasting any time putting your plan into action, are you?” she asked, the hurt she’d tried to keep from feeling surfacing.
His hands whipped out of his pockets. “I don’t use people, Andrea.”
“But you’re not above using a situation to your advantage.”
“No, I’m not. But if this is going to make us enemies, let’s forget it.” He strode behind his desk and picked up a folder.
His cavalier dismissal infuriated her. “I suppose now you’ll find an
other woman to take my place.” She tried to be blasé, but her hands shook.
Slowly his head lifted until their gazes locked. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
The deep timbre of his voice caused her insides to shiver. Her problem, not his. She had promised to help. It wasn’t his fault that he was the first man who’d interested her in a very long time. “What shall I wear and when should I expect you?”
He arched a dark brow. “Just like that?”
She shrugged carelessly. “I did say I’d help.”
“And we’ll still be friends?”
“And we’ll still be friends,” she repeated. Friendship was better than nothing, and she’d get over whatever this was in fifty or sixty years.
Pulling out the leather chair, he finally took his seat. “Dressy, and I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.”
“I’ll be ready. See you then.” Hefting the strap of her bag over her shoulder, she went to the door.
“Andrea?”
She glanced around. “Yes?”
“There’s something you should be aware of.”
“What?” Please don’t tell me you have a woman in Philadelphia.
“If I did believe in wishes, you would be the woman I would have wished for.”
Andrea felt the heat and desire in his gaze, felt the softening of her own body in response, felt her regret. “She’s out there, Nicholas.”
“There is no wish woman,” he said stubbornly.
Arguing would settle nothing. Time would prove him wrong. “I’ll see you tonight.” Opening the door, she said good-bye to Michelle and went to her car.
Andrea had no intention of keeping her date with Nicholas a secret from her aunt. They had always been honest with each other. The instant they returned home from the beauty shop Andrea told her aunt that she was going out with Nicholas and why.
Augusta’s fragile hands palmed her niece’s cheeks. “What will be will be.”
“He doesn’t think so,” Andrea said.
“He will. In the meantime we’d better find you a dress to wear.” Augusta took her niece’s arm and steered her into her bedroom. “It’s not ladylike to keep a gentleman waiting too long.”
“It’s not like it’s a real date,” Andrea said, sorrow creeping into her voice.
Augusta paused in front of the door to Andrea’s closet. “It’s always important to look your best.” Reaching inside, she pulled out an indigo light wool sheath with long sleeves. “You always look lovely in this.”
“You aren’t going to let me mope and worry about this, are you?” Andrea said, taking the dress from her aunt.
“Each breath we take puts us that much closer to our reckoning day. Wasting life is stupid. You’ve never been stupid.”
Practical and straightforward, Augusta Venora Evans never minced words. Andrea hugged her aunt, who was two inches shorter and fifteen pounds lighter. “I love you.”
“Enjoy life. Don’t take a backseat.” Patting her niece’s arm, Augusta left the room.
Holding the dress to her, Andrea gazed into the mirror. “Auntie’s right. You aren’t stupid. So why can’t you stop thinking about Nicholas?” There was no answer, only the slow beating of her heart.
Nicholas had had his first date at the precocious age of eleven. His parents had taken him and his girlfriend to a Saturday movie matinee, then picked them up and taken her home. Nicholas remembered handling the entire affair like a pro. Tonight, as he walked onto Andrea’s porch and rang the bell, he was caught between anticipation and annoyance.
He hadn’t been able to get out of his mind what he’d said to her about her being the woman he would have wished for. While he’d spoken the truth, the reason behind why he’d said it bothered him.
He simply had been unable to let her leave his office thinking he was callous or that she didn’t matter. This tendency to want to protect a woman from the slightest hurt was a new experience for him. Ever since he’d made that idiotic wish, he’d lost control of his life. But after tonight he’d have it under control again.
The door opened, and he realized he was wrong.
Andrea stood in the doorway, the light from the chandelier in the hallway framing her. She was exquisite. The dress skimmed over her to reveal the sensuous curves of her body. He wanted to grab her and gobble her up. He wanted to savor her inch by luscious inch.
“Good evening, Nicholas. Come in. I’ll get my shawl.”
“Good evening, Andrea,” he managed, stepping inside, then following her into the living room. Augusta sat in an old-fashioned rocking chair knitting a red scarf. A colorful basket of yarn sat by her feet. Gold-framed eyeglasses were perched on her nose. “Good evening, Mrs. Augusta.”
“Good evening, Mr. Darling.” Metal clicked as she continued to rock and knit.
“Please call me Nicholas,” he said, wondering when his annoyance at her had left.
She sent him a smile. “I’d be honored.”
Picking up her black cashmere shawl, Andrea leaned down and kissed Augusta’s thin cheek. “We shouldn’t be too late.”
“I’ll be fine,” Augusta said. “Drive carefully, Nicholas.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Taking the shawl from Andrea’s hands, he draped the soft material around her shoulders. “The temperature’s dropped again.”
“Thank you.” She smiled up at him over her shoulder, her warm breath caressing his lips.
Every nerve in Nicholas’s body went on full alert. He hoped Augusta was paying close attention to her knitting and not to him. He cleared his throat and placed a white card near the telephone on the end table. “The name and phone number of where we’re going is on the back of my business card, if you should need to contact Andrea.”
The needles and chair stopped. “Thank you, Nicholas. That’s very thoughtful of you.”
For some reason he felt like shuffling his feet. “I should have her back by eleven.”
Augusta set the chair in motion once again. “I won’t worry, since she’s with you.”
It occurred to Nicholas as he escorted Andrea to his car that Augusta trusted him with Andrea because she, like Andrea, was under the misguided belief that his “wish woman” was out there and that he was a gentleman. That was a gross miscalculation on both their parts. He went after what he wanted. Always had. Always would.
Try as he might to control it, he wanted Andrea, not some mythical woman. And the need grew stronger each time he saw her.
Cars were lined up on both sides of the street where Bob Hawkins and his wife, Beverly, lived. The stately neighborhood of two-story homes had long been the enclave of the wealthy and elite of the city. Bob Hawkins, as president of the largest of the three banks in Jubilee, was both. His appointment as president of Memorial Hospital’s board only served to elevate his stature.
Nicholas helped Andrea out of his car, his mouth tight. “I’ve been in Texas four months and I know size is relative, but it’s stretching it to call this a small gathering.”
“Thanksgiving is only a couple of days away; maybe there’s another party,” Andrea said hopefully.
“Somehow, I doubt it.”
When the maid let them inside the entryway, with its twenty-five-foot ceiling and double crystal chandelier, Andrea saw that Nicholas was right. The “small” get-together of the six other board members, their spouses, and a few others had expanded to over thirty people. Most of them were women.
Their eagle eyes centered on Nicholas the instant they entered the spacious den, then jerked to Andrea. Clearly they were trying to determine if she might be an obstacle in their path to Nicholas.
Unconsciously she stepped closer to Nicholas. Almost simultaneously he moved closer to her.
The dual stimulus of warmth and the hardness of his body aligned with hers drew her gaze to his face. His black eyes burned into her as much as his possessive hand on her waist. Time stood still. The other people in the room vanished. His eyes drifted to her lips. Her stomach muscles tightened. Sh
e had the overpowering impression that he wanted to kiss her. Her lips parted.
“Hello, Nicholas, Andrea,” Beverly Hawkins greeted them, holding out her hand and breaking the spell that had held them. Diamonds and sapphires glittered. “There’re going to be some very disappointed women when this gets out.”
Bob Hawkins, likable and robust, sent his wife of thirty years a stern look. “I told you not to let all those women talk you into letting them come over. Perhaps now you’ll listen when I tell you not to interfere.”
“That will be the day,” she said with a laugh, then hooked her arms through Nicholas’s and Andrea’s. “Let me introduce you to the other people you may not know. Andrea, be thankful you’re Mrs. Augusta’s niece or you’d have to watch your back. If Dianna wasn’t engaged, I might be a little upset myself.”
“Beverly!” Bob hissed, then shook his balding head. “But I must admit that I’m glad it’s over and you can concentrate on Memorial. We want Memorial financially sound.”
“It will be, Bob. Count on it,” Nicholas said, not a trace of doubt in his voice.
“Excellent. Business comes first.” Nodding, Bob walked off.
Beverly harrumphed. “Good thing Dianna takes after me, or she’d be snuggled up to a calculator for the rest of her life instead of a man.”
Andrea smiled. She was used to Beverly’s frankness. “Your daughter is a beautiful, intelligent young woman. You must be so excited that she’s graduating from Cornell next year.”
“Yes, we are.” Beverly beamed with pride. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for helping her when she first went to college in New York. She was so homesick.”
“It was my pleasure,” Andrea said, fondly remembering the shy young woman who was nothing like her gregarious mother. “I met her fiancé when I was in New York. I like him very much.”
“Me, too,” Beverly said, her eyes twinkling. “They haven’t set a date yet, but we’re already looking at wedding gowns. If you’d like the names of the shops, I’d be happy to give you a list.”