New and…Improved? & Andrew in Excess

by Jill Shalvis

  This was still a brilliant plan. She’d make it work. From here on out, Andrew Winthrop was simply one giant, walking sperm.

  “Would you care to try this?” He offered, ever so civil.

  Kat wrinkled her nose in distaste at the tofu concoction on his plate. “No, thanks. I’ll stick with what I ordered.” Take-out Chinese and her groom suddenly became interchangeable.

  Amused by her own private joke, she forked a mouthful of her own meal. One bite and fire flamed in her mouth. Eyes watering, she grabbed her water glass and drained it.

  Unruffled, Andrew regarded her across the table. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, convinced she’d breathe fire if she opened her mouth.

  “More water?” he asked as he took her glass and turned toward the kitchen. She nodded mutely.

  Kat examined her plate in his absence and realized her oversight. She’d expected one thing and gotten another. The cook had used whole red peppers instead of chopping them up. She’d bitten into an entire Chinese hot pepper.

  Andrew placed a glass of water before her and sat back down with a fresh beer for himself. She muttered her thanks.

  “Guess it was a little spicier than you anticipated?” A taunting spark of humor belied his noncommittal tone.

  “No. It was exactly what I ordered. I just need to pay closer attention from now on and not get distracted.” She drank another generous portion of water, determined to put out the fire.

  White teeth flashed against his tanned skin. “I promise not to distract you again with my tofu and mung beans.”

  Kat ignored his gibe and took another bite after carefully checking for peppers. “We need to plan this reception. I’d like to get it over with as soon as possible.” She and Andrew had discussed the necessity of hosting a reception for family and, more importantly, his business acquaintances, since they’d married so quickly and quietly.

  “There’s very little for us to do except decide on a date and show up. Gloria, my secretary, is incredibly efficient and used to dealing with this kind of thing. She’ll take care of all the details in no time.”

  A swift stab of emotion, perilously close to jealousy, stabbed her at his esteem for Gloria. Doubtless, the paragon Gloria was a blond Amazonian beauty. Or perhaps svelte like Claudia?

  What in the world was wrong with her? She was obviously overtired from the excitement of the day. She shook her head to clear it.

  Misreading her action, Andrew frowned at her. “I assure you, you’ll be pleased with the whole affair.”

  She clamped down on her wayward interpretation of what he said. Simply a poor choice of words on his part. “Fine. Next weekend may be short notice but let’s plan for that anyway.”

  “I’ll let Gloria know on Monday.” He angled himself in the chair and fished in his shirt pocket. “I also picked up a wedding present for you this afternoon.”

  A single key clattered noisily across the wrought iron tabletop and pinged against her glass. Now they were back on safe footing with such a romantic gesture.

  A house key stretched her definition of a gift. She left it lying next to her water glass.

  “Umm, thanks. I realized once you left today that I didn’t have a house key. I had to leave it unlocked while I went to the nursery.” He raised his eyebrows and she hastened to reassure him. “I left Toto here to guard the house though.”

  He laughed outright at Toto’s status as a guard dog, the sound playing along her nerve endings like a caress.

  “It’s not a house key, although I do have a spare I’ll give you.” He leaned forward and picked up the key, pressing it into the soft flesh of her palm. His fingers wrapped around hers a fraction longer than necessary. “It’s a car key.”

  How could he shake her up with one lousy touch? Maybe this ovulation business had her sensitized. “But I already have a car.”

  “After a fashion.”

  “It runs.”

  “After a fashion.”

  “What are you going to drive if I drive yours?”

  “You’re not going to drive mine. I bought you a new car.”

  “What? You did what?” It came out annoyingly close to a squeak.

  Andrew didn’t blink. “I bought you a car.”

  She’d bought him a book-paperback at that-and he’d bought her a car! She pushed the key across the table to his side. “I don’t want another car.” For the briefest second she fantasized about air-conditioning, before loyalty squashed it. “I’m very fond of Carlotta.”

  “We got married for two reasons, one of which was my partnership.” Andrew massaged his temple. “Whether either one of us likes it, my firm and our clients expect certain standards. As my wife, you can’t drive around in that road hazard.” He pushed the key back to her.

  She acknowledged the veracity of his reasoning. She wavered and might have agreed, had he skipped his snide description of poor Carlotta. Kat leaned over the table, dropping the key into his khaki lap. “Easy. I won’t drive in front of your friends.” She plopped back into her chair.

  “Even if that were reasonable, which we both know it isn’t, there’s still the other reason we got married.” He steepled his fingers over the bridge of his nose. “Monday morning the dealership’s delivering a station wagon. It’s one of the safest cars on the road. If you insist on turning me into a laughingstock before my colleagues, that’s your prerogative. Don’t drive the damn Volvo.”

  He leaned forward. Steel threaded his voice and was evident in his gaze that pinned her to her chair. “But after the first time we make love, when there is even the slightest chance you might be pregnant, you lose the option. You will not endanger our baby by driving around in that death trap you call a car. You’ll drive the Volvo if I have to strap you in myself.”

  Kat swallowed convulsively. He’d said “our baby.” Not the baby or your baby, but “our baby.” Not a single argument came to mind. She was dismayed she hadn’t considered Carlotta was neither safe nor reliable for a baby. There were times when giving in didn’t mean crying “uncle.”

  “Okay. I’ll drive it.”

  Andrew shoved back his chair and tossed her the key.

  “You could’ve at least let me pick out the color,” she groused, compelled to object to his high-handedness.

  He gathered the remains of their meal and started toward the kitchen. “Luckily they had a cancellation on a special order.” He paused at the door. “It’s purple.”

  Toto trotted out as Andrew disappeared into the kitchen. Insects droned with the coming of dusk and Kat continued to stare at the doorway Andrew had disappeared through. He’d bought an expensive new car to keep them safe. He’d bought her a purple car!

  Toto jumped into her lap and lavished her with a doggie-breath kiss. She scratched behind his ears and sighed into the night. “Houston, we’ve got a problem. Where’s my tape? I need to listen to my tape.”

  “WHICH SIDE DO YOU PREFER?”

  Kat shrugged her ambivalence, lifting the hem of her lime-green, oversize T-shirt to just above her knees. “It’s your bed. You choose.”

  Despite having spent the better part of the evening in his study, a stroke of bad luck sent him to bed at the same time as his wife. He wasn’t looking forward to sharing a platonic bed with this woman who, in turn, bewitched and frustrated him. Andrew wondered if she always wore the hideous shirt to bed or if, fearing he’d lose his head after seeing her naked earlier, she’d donned it deliberately. “Go ahead and take the side closest to the bathroom.”

  While Kat settled Toto in a doggie bed situated by the closet, Andrew stripped down to his briefs. Doubtless, she expected pajamas.

  By the time she finished with Toto, he’d settled between the cool cotton sheets. Her eyes widened when she turned and noticed his bare chest above the sheet. He recognized the surprise on her face. She didn’t know whether he was naked below the sheet or not. He grinned to himself. Let her continue to wonder. Served her right for wearing that atrocity.
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br />   “Did you talk to your father tonight?” she queried as she crossed the room. He’d swear his bold, brazen wife had a case of nerves.

  “Yes. Did you?”

  “Talk to your father?”

  “No. Talk to your father.”

  The mattress shifted slightly as it absorbed her weight. “Oh, yeah. I called Dad about half an hour ago.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her try to discern whether he had on any clothes as she drew the sheet around her. A flicker of annoyance told him she still didn’t know.

  “Let me guess. He was thrilled to welcome me into the bosom of the Hamilton family,” Andrew said.

  She turned to face him, dramatically reducing the space between them. She smelled faintly of mint toothpaste, and in his mind he easily stripped her of the green abomination. He knew what was underneath, and wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon. His jockeys seemed to shrink. Certain parts of him remembered all too well.

  “I wouldn’t call him Dad the next time I see him in court, if I were you.” She grinned, quick and irreverent. “And your father’s thrilled I’m a Winthrop?”

  “A.W. and Rand probably have a lot in common.” Thank goodness, she hadn’t inquired about his phone call to Claudia. Graciousness hadn’t been in Claudia’s vocabulary.

  “Did he mention your partnership?”

  “No. Let’s just say he was surprised that it wasn’t Claudia.”

  Doggie snores filled the silence between them.

  Kat shifted underneath the covers. Her soft calf whispered against him for the briefest moment. His mouth dried.

  Awareness filled the space between them. She didn’t look at him, but it was there in the budding of her nipples against her T-shirt. If he hadn’t married her, he’d consider seducing her, because he wanted her in the most basic way and her body seemed to respond in kind. But he’d become a sperm donor when he’d signed on the dotted line.

  Kat dusted her hands together. “Well, we seem to have some more business to take care of tonight. I checked my ovulation prediction kit and it seems I’m in season. You know, now’s the time. We should probably get the sex thing over with.”

  5

  U H-OH . K AT NOTED the slight narrowing of Andrew’s eyes. Perhaps she should have been more select in her terminology. However, she was determined not to go overboard. She’d show moderation. Keep it to a business level. Theirs was a business arrangement after all. No need to lose her head just because they were about to get naked together. If he wasn’t already…

  Andrew propped on one elbow and leaned closer to her. The sheet slid down, baring his flat stomach. “I’ve never done the ’sex thing’ with procreation in mind. Anything I need to know? Does it matter which of us is on top? Should you be facing east?” The low timbre of his voice caressed her even as he reached over and traced a small circle on the back of her hand in a rhythmic motion.

  Damn him. He was toying with her. All she wanted was a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. Just the thing most women got with most husbands. But no. She had the rotten luck to stumble onto one intent on seduction. And darn good at it. She felt slightly dizzy and he’d only touched the back of her hand. So far.

  It had been a really long six-year dry spell since Nick had hit the door. Six long, abstinence-filled years in which she’d avoided entanglements like the plague-because of that blasted all-or-nothing tendency of hers. She’d heard somewhere that sex was like riding a bike. Except she suspected she’d upgraded from a three-speed to a ten-speed along the way. Suddenly nervous, Kat ran her fingers through her perpetually disheveled hair.

  “The only requirements are once a day for the next three days.”

  “Only once a day? Surely twice a day would double our odds.” He slid his bedeviling hand beneath the neckline of her T-shirt and trailed her collarbone. Frissons of delight danced across her skin.

  How was she supposed to keep her wits about her with his touch igniting small fires? “Uh, no. It doesn’t work that way. It decreases the potency of the sperm if you…” His mouth whispered along the shell of her ear. “If you, uh…oh my, uh, do it, um, too often.”

  “You’re the boss. If you say once a day, then it’s once a day.” Andrew pushed the sheet into a tangle at the foot of the bed.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “I have a job to do and it’s time to get down to business.”

  Now this was more like it. Now they were getting to the wham-bam part. Business. This was a business arrangement.

  Baby for her. Partnership for him. Cut-and-dried. No crazy excesses.

  Andrew leaned away from her, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe. She looked her fill of him. Peering at him through binoculars didn’t come close to this. Golden skin lightly covered with dark hair. No bulging muscles marred the classic lines of his body. He was all hard planes and angles bisected by a pair of white briefs that evidenced his willingness to get down to business. Want and intent warmed his eyes to a smoky gray.

  She closed her eyes and inhaled his male scent.

  “You have the most exquisite legs.” The low, heated timbre of his voice opened her eyes and increased the ache building inside her.

  Not okay or nice, but exquisite.

  With a gossamer touch, he stroked from the arch of her foot to her calf. He followed that same path with kisses that sampled and savored. The moist heat of his mouth against the sensitive skin behind her knee mightily weakened her earlier resolve.

  Andrew lavished her thighs with kisses. Instinctively she parted her legs in supplication. But her wicked, wicked husband taunted her with a look that only promised, and pushed her T-shirt aside to nibble his way to the slight rise of her belly.

  Kat tugged her T-shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her senses begged to indulge in him. She stroked the hard line of his shoulder and felt a faint shudder ripple through him at her touch. She stroked the sleek muscles of his back as he explored her ribs and the underside of her breasts, the faint rasp of the stubble on his face, stoking the fire he tended with his sensual exploration. With deliberateness, he bypassed the aching peaks of her breasts and moved on to the pulse tattooing a rhythm of desire at the base of her throat. Braced on his forearms above her, only his mouth touched and caressed her.

  His muscles bunched beneath her fingertips as her hands clutched at him, transmitting the fever building inside. Her breath grew ragged as he pushed aside her hair to sample the sensitivity of her neck and the shell of her ear. Trekking across a desert could not have left her with a greater thirst.

  She groaned in frustration and invitation as she pulled his mouth to meet hers. It was the sweetest of tortures. Rather than gaining some satisfaction from the taste and feel of his mouth, it only turned up the heat coursing through her.

  When his tongue touched hers, the last tenuous hold on her moderation slipped. She touched him as she’d wanted to the first time she’d seen him at his beach house. She purred her appreciation for the tight ripple of his buttocks when she slid her hands beneath his briefs and stroked and kneaded.

  Andrew had teased and incited her earlier, but she’d sensed he did so while fully in control of himself. She’d sensed his measure of restraint in his touch, the cadence of his breath. Now spiraling urgency replaced his control.

  He found her breasts and measured their fullness against his palms, intensifying the ache of his earlier neglect. She murmured a request on their behalf and he took one pearled tip in his mouth.

  Pleasure rocked her, rippled through her and left her wanting more. Impatient to feel the hard length of him against her skin, she tugged at the waistband of his underwear. “These have to go. Now.”

  “You’re the boss.” He took over for her and shucked his briefs.

  My, oh, my. Kat lay very still and closed her eyes. The cool cotton of the sheets against her fevered skin felt real.

  The heady scent of aroused male mingling with her own excitement smelled very real.

  “Kat,
please tell me you’re not falling asleep.” The sexy thrum of Andrew’s voice sounded real.

  The questing probe of his hand down her belly to the slick wet between her thighs felt, oh, so very real.

  She moved against him in an age-old request, opening her eyes.

  No doubt about it. She wasn’t dreaming. She was in bed with her husband, who happened to qualify as the all-time sexiest man.

  “Do you know what redneck foreplay is?” Her voice sounded husky, even to her.

  His finger stroked against her silky fold. “Hmm, I hope not.”

  She nudged his shoulder and delivered the punch line. “You awake? You awake?”

  He chuckled as he slid his finger in her.

  Kat arched. No more jokes. Coherent thought lessened with each dip and stroke. She wrapped her hand around the length of his shaft. “And no, I’m not asleep.”

  His fingers found the sensitive nub of her womanhood. “If you are, you’re having one hell of a wet dream.”

  She writhed beneath his ministrations, excited by his touch and his comment. Could this man with his naughty talk possibly be the same stiff shirt she’d married? She rubbed her hand up his hardness. He was stiff all right, but it wasn’t his shirt.

  Kat lost herself in a kaleidoscope of sensation. Of touching and being touched. Of tasting and being tasted. Want became need-the need to feel him deep inside her.

  Then he was. And amidst the maelstrom of pleasure she recognized an emotional connection. She hadn’t sought it. She didn’t want it. But it was there, almost as tangible as the thrust of him within her. This was not some nameless, faceless sperm donor. This was stuffy, sexy, thoughtful, quirky Andrew.

  She gave herself over to a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. She panted and moaned, close to tears from the tension that mounted with each rhythmic plunge. And then she transcended to a place she’d never been before. She soared even as she shattered and became part of the kaleidoscope.

  As if her satisfaction had pushed him over the edge, Andrew found his own release. She had never heard a sweeter sound than his harsh rasp of her name as he spilled into her.