Gettin’ Merry

by CATHY L. CLAMP; FRANCIS RAY; BEVERLY JENKINS; MONICA JACKSON; GERI GUILLAUME

  He gave her another quick kiss, then turned so they both faced the little tree in the bay window. “I kind of like it.”

  After a moment she said, “Me, too.”

  He palmed her forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever,” he joked.

  She laughed. “I just remembered a cartoon I watched as a child, about misfit toys and how nobody wanted them. It made me feel so sad. If you hadn’t bought the tree, it might have stayed in the lot. Now, it’s almost beautiful with the star-shaped lights sparkling off the glass icicles.” And she liked the idea of them sharing the decorations. It made her feel connected to him.

  “Will wonders never cease? A woman who admits when she’s wrong,” Nicholas teased.

  “That’s because it so seldom happens,” she said with a lift of her brow.

  He chuckled, hugging her to him. “It’s going to be very interesting getting to know you better.”

  “You can count on it,” Andrea said, hugging him back. What will be will be. “What should we do next?”

  Make love to each other until we’re too weak to move.

  Before the thought had completely formed, he knew he wouldn’t follow through with the rest of his reason for getting her to his house. Not with them standing in the glow of years of family tradition where intimacy meant love and lifelong commitment. Not with Andrea staring up at him with such complete trust.

  An idiot could see she longed for the same thing in her own life. He wasn’t ready for that type of commitment. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be. She’d been denied too much for him to carelessly take more. He wasn’t taking her dream. “Why don’t we go outside and see how the tree looks through the window, then go out to dinner?”

  “I’d like that.”

  Chapter 8

  In the past Nicholas never had any difficulty remaining focused. Like his father, he was very detail-oriented. At least he had been until he’d met Andrea. In the three weeks since Thanksgiving, they’d seen each other almost every day. He’d catch himself thinking about her instead of working. Like now.

  Twisting in his seat in his office, Nicholas leaned closer to the computer monitor as if that would help his concentration. He’d been working on a report for three hours, a report that usually took one hour to do. But it was difficult to think about operating costs when he’d much rather be thinking about Andrea or, better yet, be with her. But that was creating its own problem.

  He scrubbed his face. He wanted her so badly, he ached. He couldn’t hide his need from her, and although he knew she wasn’t experienced and still thought there was another woman out there for him, she never pulled back. That kind of trust and caring made his body ache and his spirit smile.

  He lifted his face to the ceiling. “Spirit smile,” he muttered. What kind of thing was that for a man to say? His phone rang and he pounced on it, ready for any distraction. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Darling, you’re needed on Pedi South,” Michelle told him.

  Nicholas frowned. “I don’t have a meeting, do I?”

  “No, but I think you should go up there.”

  Nicholas transferred the phone to his left hand and began hitting keys with his right. “Michelle, I’m in the middle of the report—”

  “Andrea is up there.”

  He shot up from his chair before he realized that if she’d been hurt, she wouldn’t be on the pediatric floor. “Why? What’s going on?”

  “I guess you won’t find out, since you’re so busy with the report. Sorry to disturb you.”

  Nicholas held a dead phone. In a matter of seconds he was standing before Michelle, his hands planted firmly on her desk. “Talk.”

  “You’ll understand when you get there.” Michelle placed the calendar she kept for him by his hands. “Your next appointment isn’t for another hour.”

  How much he wanted to go didn’t surprise him. But if he saw Andrea, he’d experience the same churning need that kept him awake at night. Andrea or her aunt might be fooled, but not the hospital staff. “I really need to finish that report,” he said, with little conviction in his voice.

  “Wouldn’t you rather see Andrea?” Michelle asked.

  He started to ask how she knew Andrea was in the hospital, then recalled that Michelle had an open pipeline to all the gossip in the hospital. Women no longer bothered him, but many of them were acquainted with Andrea. “I’ll be on Pedi South, if you need me.”

  All the way to the floor, he kept telling himself that he was simply going to say hello. It would appear strange if he didn’t. She was probably reading one of the books she’d illustrated to the children.

  With that thought in mind he wasn’t surprised when, without asking, he was directed by several staff members to the atrium at the end of the hall. Entering the sunshine-filled room, he immediately spotted Andrea. She didn’t have a book; she had a sketch pad.

  Sitting in front of the lit Christmas tree was a little girl of about five in a wheelchair. She was precious, with huge chocolate eyes and a smile that was as bright as the sparkling lights behind her. One arm was wrapped securely around a bedraggled doll; the other was connected to an IV. As Andrea’s hand moved swiftly across the page she chatted with the child.

  “She came to read, but when one of the nurses mentioned that Andrea drew the pictures in the books, the children wanted their pictures drawn,” said Nurse Cipriano from beside Nicholas. “She’s been at it for almost three hours. I called Michelle. I thought Andrea should take a break.”

  “What’s wrong with the little girl?”

  “Juvenile diabetes,” Nurse Cipriano said. “Barnarda is one of the lucky ones. She’ll be home for Christmas. But for those who can’t leave even on a pass, you’ve helped. So has Andrea. The children want the sketches to give to their parents.”

  He watched Andrea leave her chair with the pad, then kneel beside the child to show her the drawing. The child’s eyes rounded. With a squeal of delight, she wrapped her free arm around Andrea’s neck. Andrea gently hugged her back.

  The nurse sniffed. “You’ve got a good woman there, Mr. Darling.”

  “I know.” He walked over and hunkered down. “Hello, Barnarda, Andrea.”

  Andrea looked at Nicholas, inches from her, and accepted that he’d always make her heart ache a little bit. “Hello, Nicholas. Barnarda, meet Mr. Darling; he helps run the hospital.”

  “You want to see my picture?” the little girl asked, already turning it around. “Andrea drew it, just like I asked.”

  Nicholas looked at the picture of smiling Barnarda in a tree swing, her doll in her lap. “It’s beautiful.”

  The little girl nodded, then turned to Andrea, a frown stealing over her plump face. “You won’t forget, will you?”

  “No, sweetheart.” Andrea brushed her hand over the child’s curly hair. “I’ll have it framed and get it back to you.”

  “Time to go, Barnarda.” Nurse Cipriano came up and grasped the handles of the wheelchair.

  “Bye, Andrea.” The child’s face scrunched up as she looked at Nicholas; then she smiled. “Good-bye, Mr. Man.”

  Nicholas smiled. “Good-bye.” He helped Andrea to her feet as the nurse rolled the child away. “You’ve made a lot of sick children happy. Thank you.”

  “Christmas is a time for children, a time for dreams and wishes to come true,” she said without thought. Then she went still, expecting to see irritation replace his smile as it always did when the word wish was mentioned.

  His expression didn’t change, but his eyes did. They narrowed and burned with an intensity that caused her to shiver.

  He stepped closer until they touched from chest to knees. His other hand caught her arm. “Guess what I dream about?”

  She didn’t have to guess. Too many mornings she’d awakened restless and aching. Her lips parted.

  “There you are!”

  The irritating voice broke the spell. Andrea jumped. Nicholas cursed, then wanted to curse again when he saw Ferrell. Despite the inte
rested eyes of the two staff members who’d just brought a group of children to the atrium, Nicholas slid his arm around Andrea, anchoring her to his side.

  “Yes,” Nicholas said in a clipped voice.

  The other man’s eyes stayed on Andrea. “I wanted to ask if you needed any more volunteers.”

  “No.”

  “Perhaps I could help you, Andrea,” Ferrell said with a winning smile. “I’ve heard you plan to have all the pictures framed. I’d be happy to help you financially and with anything else you might need.”

  “I—”

  “She won’t need your help, Ferrell,” Nicholas said. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re about to go to lunch.”

  Ferrell’s face hardened. “Why don’t you let Andrea decide if she needs my help or not?”

  Nicholas had the urge to punch Ferrell in the nose for even daring to say Andrea’s name. “Tell him.”

  Andrea was caught between being flattered and wanting to hit Nicholas over the head with her sketch pad for acting like a Neanderthal. “If I don’t, are you going to drag me off by the hair?”

  Ferrell hooted. “She told you.”

  Nicholas’s body stiffened. His arm fell from around her waist. “My mistake.”

  “We can discuss everything over lunch”, then dinner tonight,” Ferrell suggested smoothly.

  She would have to be stupid to think that’s all he had in mind. “Thank you for your offer of a financial contribution, Dr. Ferrell. Since Nicholas is the unofficial chairman, you can give him the check. If I need any additional help, I’m sure Nicholas will be there to assist me.” She slid her arm through his rigid one. “Please excuse us. As Nicholas said, we were about to go to lunch.”

  She could have been walking beside a mannequin. Nicholas was stiff and unsmiling as they went down the hall, then boarded the elevator. She punched 1 for the parking lot. He punched 2. Hospital employees in the enclosure took one look at Nicholas’s face, then busied themselves elsewhere.

  The elevator doors slid open on 2. She didn’t even think of disregarding the firm pressure of his hand urging her off. At Michelle’s questioning look, Andrea sent a wan smile. He didn’t stop until he was inside his office.

  She took consolation that he hadn’t slammed the door and was preparing to state her case when his mouth crashed down on hers. The kiss was hot and greedy, flaring to life the second their lips touched. There was also need and desperation.

  Andrea dived into the kiss, giving, reassuring. Whatever it was he needed from her she’d gladly give. Eagerly she leaned into him, heard his hoarse groan of pleasure. Boldly his hands cupped her hips against his hard arousal. Her tongue stroked his as he stroked her.

  The world tilted. By the time she realized he’d picked her up, she was flat on her back on the leather sofa in his office, his hard body above her. Uncertainty swept though her. “Nicholas?”

  His head came up, his eyes dark and intense for a long moment; then he shut his eyes and sat up, his face in his hands. Andrea didn’t move for a long time, then tentatively touched his tense shoulder. He flinched.

  She drew her hand back. She wanted to comfort him but didn’t know how. “Nicholas?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” He glanced over his shoulder at her propped up on one elbow, her hair mussed, her lips swollen from his kisses, and wanted to drag her back in his arms. He surged to his feet. “I have no excuse.”

  “Since I was eagerly participating, I don’t expect any.” She slid her legs over the leather cushion and sat upright.

  His hands clenched and unclenched by his sides. “You have every right to see whoever you want.”

  “Not if your plan is going to work.” Coming to her feet, she went to stand in front of him. “I spoke up for myself, so there won’t be any doubt.”

  Her answer didn’t appease him. What would happen once the need for the charade was over? His gut twisted.

  Not wanting to think about it, he bent to pick her sketch pad up from the floor, then handed it to her. “Getting these framed will cost a lot of money. Why don’t you ask the hospital auxiliary to help you?”

  “I’ve already spoken with Mrs. Ricks, the president, and she’s agreed to help.” Andrea tucked the tablet beneath her arm. “You ready to feed me so I can go back upstairs and finish?”

  Frowning, he rezipped her sweater-coat, then fingered her hair. She looked like a woman who’d been thoroughly kissed and enjoyed herself immensely. While it gratified him and he didn’t care what people said about him, he didn’t want her to be the topic of hospital gossip. “Maybe you should go into the bathroom and freshen up.”

  She handed him the pad, then went into the room he’d indicated to apply lipstick and comb her hair. “How do I look?” she asked when she came out.

  “Tempting.” He grabbed her arm. “Let’s get out of here before I have to apologize all over again.”

  Nicholas barely touched his meat loaf. If one person came over to their table in the hospital cafeteria to say hello to Andrea or mention the sketches, fifteen came. She never seemed to mind that her hamburger was getting cold, her strawberry malt getting warm. She was heaped with praise and hugs. Almost every person who stopped by asked her to give their regards to her aunt. Clearly, both women were loved and respected in Jubilee.

  That irrefutable fact caused Nicholas a bit of uneasiness. How would the townspeople react when there wasn’t an engagement? Christmas was a little over a week away. Not even his impetuous brother would become engaged to a woman he’d never met before in such a short time.

  Hours later Nicholas was still mulling over the situation when he knocked on Andrea’s door. He didn’t have an answer, but he was going to make darn sure people knew he thought she was special.

  “Nicholas, come in,” Andrea said as she opened the door. Her eyes and face lit up at the sight of him.

  “Get your coat and come outside,” he said. Andrea started out of the door, but he blocked her path. “Coat and gloves first. Your scarf, too.”

  “Andrea, do as your guest says,” Aunt Augusta told her. “Good evening, Nicholas. You want to come inside?”

  “No, thank you. I’ll just wait here for Andrea.”

  “I’ll be back in a minute.” She rushed down the hall.

  Nicholas shifted restlessly. He liked Augusta, but lately he got the feeling she saw right through him. Considering what he’d done with Andrea and what he’d like to do to her, he guessed Augusta had a right to make him nervous. “Nice weather we’re having.”

  “Very nice,” she replied.

  “Think we’ll have a white Christmas?”

  “A little snow Christmas Eve, but it won’t stick or stop a man in love from doing what has to be done.”

  Nicholas blinked and snapped his attention back to her. “What?”

  Augusta simply smiled, then stepped back for Andrea, who was putting on her gloves as she raced down the hall. “Have fun and tell Larry to drive carefully.”

  Nicholas’s mouth literally dropped open, but then Andrea was there and he couldn’t ask her aunt how she’d known who was outside.

  “I’m ready. What’s up?”

  Mentally shaking himself, Nicholas led her onto the porch. “I’d thought we’d view the Christmas lights around town the old-fashioned way.”

  Andrea followed the direction of his gaze and squealed with delight. Grabbing his hand, she raced toward the horse-drawn open carriage that Larry Adair rented out for weddings and other special occasions.

  Helping Andrea inside, Nicholas climbed up and sat be-side her, still puzzled until he saw what he’d forgotten. From the living room you could see the road. Obviously Augusta had been looking out the window and had seen them pull up. Chiding himself for his overactive imagination, Nicholas tucked the blanket around Andrea’s knees. “Let’s go, Larry, and Mrs. Augusta said to tell you to drive carefully.”

  “Sure enough, Mr. Darling. Mrs. Augusta might do good with her gift, but that might
change if a man harms Miss Andrea.”

  Laughing softly, Andrea shook her head. “Mr. Adair, shame on you. You know Auntie has never harmed a soul.”

  “That don’t mean she won’t,” Larry said with an emphatic nod of his black top hat.

  The disquiet Nicholas had experienced earlier returned. Frowning, he glanced toward the living room window. Then Andrea snuggled closer and laid her head on his shoulder. Curving his arms around her shoulders, he forgot everything but how good it felt for her to be in his arms again.

  Barely three days later he regretted that lapse.

  Five days before Christmas, Nicholas knocked on Andrea’s door and received no answer. He’d seen her earlier when she and a couple of volunteers had delivered the children’s framed and wrapped portraits. The staff on the floor, Andrea, and the two women volunteers had all cried.

  He knocked again. Since both cars were in the garage, he had a pretty good idea of where he’d find Andrea. He came off the porch.

  Rounding the corner of the house, he saw her beneath the huge maple tree, but she was neither writing nor sketching. She was crying. His heart in his throat, he raced to her. “What’s the matter? What is it?”

  Andrea sniffed. “I just finished A Risk Worth Taking. Braxton finally learned that no risk is too great to keep the woman he loves by his side. They made it, Nicholas.”

  He bent to kiss the tears away from her eyes, her cheeks, the corner of her mouth, then her mouth. They ended up stretched out on the grass. He had just enough presence of mind to keep his hand from wandering. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What are you two celebrating?” Augusta said from less than five feet away.

  Nicholas shot to his feet, dragging Andrea with him. He opened his mouth to apologize, then noticed Augusta was smiling. It was the same smile he’d seen when she granted him his wish. He began to tremble.

  “No,” he whispered. “It can’t be.”