New and…Improved? & Andrew in Excess

by Jill Shalvis; Jennifer LaBrecque

  Mrs. Fitzwillie began unloading the dishwasher. “He may indeed. And he’ll have a grand time designing it. Even if a plant never goes in the ground.” She sighed. “Oh, Missus Kat. You’re just what the dear boy needed. You’ll bring this place to life.”

  Andrew pulled away from the ice pack and Kat’s touch, scraping his chair back. “I’ve got to go or I’ll be late.”

  He’d had all he could take of hearing how much he needed Kat in his life. All he needed from her was a means to his partnership. It would still be integral to his life ages after the dust had settled from Kat leaving. Andrew had long ago learned what you could count on.

  He picked up his briefcase and headed for the door.

  “Have a good day.” Kat sounded subdued.

  Before he managed to leave, Mrs. Fitzwillie stopped him. “Now dear boy, I know you want to kiss your bride goodbye before you leave. Don’t mind me. Go right ahead.” She planted herself against the sink and waited expectantly.

  Kat didn’t budge from beside the table. Andrew stood at the door.

  Mrs. Fitzwillie waved a pudgy hand. “Go ahead, go ahead. I won’t mind a bit.”

  Andrew had the odd feeling, intensified by the glint of suspicion in Mrs. Fitzwillie’s eyes, that he and Kat were facing a test. He knew a peck on the cheek wouldn’t pacify Mrs. Fitzwillie. He leaned his briefcase against the wall at the same time Kat took a step and they met halfway.

  He slid his hands around Kat’s waist to rest in the small of her back. His fingers brushed the soft satin of her skin where her shirt gaped from her shorts. He knew the taste of that very spot and his body tensed at the memory.

  Standing on tiptoe, Kat linked her arms around his neck and murmured against his mouth. “Relax. It’s a kiss. Not an execution.”

  Easy for her to say. He died a slow death of want every time they touched. Lowering his head, he captured her mouth with his and sampled her full lower lip. She trembled as she leaned into him.

  He raised his head to break the kiss. For a fraction of a second, her lips clung to his. Drawing on every vestige of willpower, he pulled away. Kat slid her hands from his neck to frame his face, and pulled him back down to her. Bypassing his mouth, she gently touched her lips to his swollen, discolored eye. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s fine.” Her tender caress threatened his composure.

  Kat lightly traced his jawline with her fingers before she dropped her hands to her side.

  She’d given a heck of a performance on Mrs. Fitzwillie’s behalf. Passion tempered with tender concern. He couldn’t get to the office fast enough.

  Mrs. Fitzwillie clutched her hands to her breast. “Now that was a kiss!” She sighed, beaming at the two of them. “Isn’t love grand?”

  KAT SCRAMBLED ACROSS THE SOFA toward the ringing phone, wondering for one heart-racing moment if Andrew might be calling from his office. Not that he should and not that it mattered.

  “Hello?” She attributed her breathlessness to her aerobic contortions to reach the phone before the answering machine snatched the call.

  “And how is the blushing bride?” Bitsy chortled in her ear.

  Kat’s heart slowed to a normal pace as she silently called herself all kinds of a fool.

  “Hi, Bits, how are ya?” She slumped onto a needle-point pillow.

  “I’m fine. The question is, how are you after a day of wedded bliss with my brother? And what’d you think of my wedding gift?”

  Kat considered the havoc Andrew’s baby making had wrought and opted for flippancy. “Blissed beyond belief. And your gift was unusual. We have them on display with the china.”

  “Sweetums, that is not where they belong, but this is my brother, so please, no details.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Kat grinned up at the whirring ceiling fan. “Especially not the part about—”

  “Stop. I don’t want to hear this. I’m just glad you’re no longer single-handedly supporting the battery market. No pun intended.”

  “Very funny. Just for that I won’t mention the black eye or new car.”

  “Tell all,” Bitsy demanded. “Tell all now.”

  Kat recounted an abbreviated version of both stories.

  Although Bitsy howled at Andrew’s black eye, the new car caught and held her attention. “So he bought a new car to keep you and the kidlet safe. That’s an interesting slant.”

  “Humph! That was just his selling point. I’m sure he’s much more concerned with making the right impression for his clients.”

  “Oh, come on, Kat. A convertible Mercedes would’ve made the right impression. Give him credit.”

  That was just the problem, she silently mused. He was gaining too much credit. Way too much credit. She’d already listened to two moderation tapes today.

  Mrs. Fitzwillie’s mention of a lonely Andrew had nagged at Kat all morning. Ignoring Bitsy’s reprimand, she changed the subject.

  “Bitsy, do you think Andrew’s lonely?”

  A sigh drifted over the line. “Andrew cut himself off from almost everyone a long time ago. Growing up, he was more of a parent to me than A.W. and Mother. He’s six years older than I am and he took care of me. But only a string of nannies took care of Andrew.”

  The lock on Kat’s heart struggled to hold tight against the picture of a vulnerable little boy, a solitary man.

  “Speaking of your parents, I guess I’ll meet them soon. We’re holding a reception this weekend at Andrew’s club. Mark your calendar.”

  “Now that I wouldn’t miss for the world. The Montagues meet the Capulets at cocktail hour. Kids allowed, or do I need a baby-sitter?”

  “Forget Romeo and Juliet. It’s more like the Hatfields and McCoys armed with law degrees. And of course you’ll bring Juliana.”

  “A neighbor of mine runs a catering service, if you don’t already have someone in mind,” Bitsy offered.

  “Andrew’s secretary, Gloria, is handling all the details.” She paused, and then tacked on casually, “Do you know Gloria?”

  “I’ve met her once or twice when I dropped by the office. Why do you ask?” Bitsy’s voice teased and Kat knew she’d guessed why Kat asked.

  “Just curious. Andrew described her as a paragon of efficiency.”

  “I don’t know about efficiency, but she’s got the body of a Venus and a mind like a steel trap. Brains and beauty.” Bitsy sighed melodramatically. “Some women just have it all.”

  Before Kat could respond, a shriek sounded in the background on the other end of the line.

  “Motherhood beckons. Gotta go. Talk to you later.”

  Kat hung up the phone and huffed off the sofa. Maybe Andrew should have married Miss Venus, aka Gloria.

  Pacing the length of the room, she dug deep in a bag of fudge cookies with pecan chunks.

  But then again, Miss Venus probably wouldn’t have offered what Kat had. How many women would let a man like Andrew go with no strings attached and without putting up a fight?

  None she could think of, who might be in her right mind.

  THE EARLY EVENING SUN SLANTED over her back as Kat scooted forward on her knees.

  “Stick it right there. No, not that hole. The one next to it. Perfect. You might not be too sure of what you’re doing now, but with my training you’ll be an expert in no time,” she promised. The sight of Andrew on his knees with her left her breathless.

  “Yes, mistress of dirt,” Andrew intoned.

  Kat passed him a six-pack of perennial plants. “Quiz time. Put these wherever you think they ought to go.” Andrew’s interest in the flower bed had surprised her. Accepting her challenge to lay it out and plant it had quite frankly amazed her.

  Andrew rocked back on his heels to study the layout of the flower bed she and Anton had spent the day preparing. Rock-hard muscles bunched in his thighs with the motion. Kat flushed with a heat that had nothing to do with the ambient air temperature. Those same muscles had bunched up last night just like that right before he… Kat plucke
d at her shirt, suddenly feeling warm.

  “How about right here?”

  “Looks good to me.” And the plants were fine there, as well.

  Andrew eyed the containers skeptically. “They certainly are small.”

  “They’re like anything else. Take care of them, nurture them and they’ll grow. And the best part is they’ll come back year after year.”

  “Guaranteed?”

  “Not as sure as death and taxes, but if you take care of them they’ll come back for years.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll have time to take care of them.”

  “You’ll find the time if it’s something you really want.”

  Andrew covered the last root with soil, leaving a trail of dirt on his thigh. Her fingers itched to brush it away. She did nothing to mask her obvious appreciation of his body.

  “Andrew, there’s something really sexy about dirt.”

  A sly, sexy smile played about his mouth. “I bet you say that to all the gardening help. Small wonder Anton’s looked so spry lately.”

  She’d just be damned, her Harvard stuffed shirt dug her ogling him. “I only say it to the ones with the great buns.”

  “You know, I never noticed Anton’s…uh, posterior attributes. You, on the other hand, I have definitely noticed. And you, my garden fairy, have lovely assets.”

  “Awfully cheeky for a garden boy toy, aren’t you?”

  “You haven’t seen the half of it yet.” In one lithe move he stripped off his T-shirt.

  Somewhere along the way, she’d tapped into a playful sensuality that could literally charm her pants off. She licked her suddenly dry lips. “I definitely approve of the first half.”

  Still kneeling, he stalked her on the garden path like a dark panther scenting his next meal. She felt ripe and lush and ready for the feasting. She met him halfway.

  “You’re far overdressed for a garden fairy.” He slowly tugged her shirt up, his knuckles trailing against her sensitized skin, until he pulled it over her head and tossed it behind her. She reached out to steady herself against the roughly furred planes of his chest and wound up caressing the expanse of it. His fingertips blazed a trail of fire down her shoulders.

  The late-afternoon sun warmed her bared back. It was nothing compared to the molten heat building inside her. Kat flicked her tongue against his nipple. The sharp hiss of his indrawn breath spoke volumes in the still of the garden.

  “We could go inside.” She’d meant to sound sultry and inviting. Instead she croaked.

  Andrew slid her bra straps off her shoulders. “It’s after hours and no one’s here but us. I’m perfectly happy where I am, if you are. You just happen to be overdressed.”

  He nuzzled down her chest, and used his teeth to pull the cups of her bra down, baring her breasts. His gray eyes darkening to slate, he fondled and squeezed until she couldn’t stand it any longer and pulled his mouth to one aching nipple.

  Hot, slick heat drenched her panties. Kat thought she’d come unglued with the need to feel Andrew deep inside her. She’d been waiting a lifetime to be here with him now, the grass a soft cushion beneath her, the aroma of the fertile earth mingling with their scent.

  Instinctively she arched her throbbing core against the hard line of his arousal. Reaching for the waistband of his shorts she pleaded for release from his sweet torture, “Andrew…please…now.”

  His eyes never left hers as he removed first his shorts and then hers. “Tell me what you want, Kat.”

  She leaned back on the soft green carpet of grass and spread her legs in invitation. “I want you to make love to me.”

  Bracing himself over her, he nudged her slick wetness. Her hips arched against him. With one smooth thrust he plowed into her warmth. Kat moved against him in a rhythm as old as mother earth herself until they completed each other. With a tenderness that did nothing to restore her equilibrium, Andrew brushed his lips against hers.

  “I think I may like this gardening business,” he remarked as he rolled off her.

  Kat tossed her shorts at his head. “Just make sure you don’t do any planting without me. And speaking of planting, can you bring that bag of manure over here?”

  Wearing nothing but a puzzled frown, Andrew hoisted the fifty-pound bag of cow dung. Good Lord, but he was a fine specimen. And quite talented. “Where?”

  Kat shifted so that her hips were in the air. “Here.”

  “Huh?”

  “Yeah, put it underneath me. I read that you should elevate your hips for twenty minutes afterward to optimize chances of fertilization.”

  Andrew settled the bag underneath her, smoothing out his shirt for her to lie on.

  “And what scientific publication was this?” Andrew stepped into his briefs and shorts.

  “No need to cover up on my account. And actually it was a magazine. They suggested pillows or a rolled blanket.”

  He stretched out on the grass beside her. “Ah, so the bag of manure is your own personalized version.” His eyes skimmed her sun-kissed body with appreciation. Kat had always felt comfortable with her body, but Andrew’s blatant regard made her feel beautiful, sexy, powerful.

  “Consider it a fertilization ritual.”

  Andrew threw back his head and laughed. The warm, carefree sound was almost as satisfying to her as the love they’d just made.

  “Maybe the pH balance will determine X or Y chromosome.”

  Kat giggled at his inanity. “Shut up.”

  And in that instant, lying naked in the sun with her hips propped up on a bag of cow poop, Kat realized her plan had gone seriously awry. She’d married Andrew because she didn’t expect to be attracted to him.

  Instead she stood in serious danger of moving far beyond mere attraction.

  This situation really stunk.

  6

  RETURNING FROM WORK the next day, Andrew knelt to greet the ball of fur that barreled toward him. He assured himself it was merely in the best interest of his pant leg that he allowed Toto to slop wet doggie kisses on his hand. He’d never gotten around to quizzing Kat on Toto’s incontinence. This seemed the safest way to avoid another episode.

  Such enthusiasm on the little dog’s part dictated some return of affection, he further reasoned. Andrew scratched behind the scruffy ears, reluctant to admit to himself he looked forward to Toto’s welcome. He chuckled as he remembered Kat’s assurance that Toto had guarded the house on their wedding day. Had it only been four days? In some ways it felt as if Kat and Toto had been a part of his life much longer.

  “So, hound, you kept the castle safe in my absence today? How many warring enemies did you keep at bay?”

  Toto rolled over and presented his stomach by way of answer. Andrew chuckled at Toto’s forwardness.

  “Aye, milord, and it’s a relief to have you home,” Kat retorted from the kitchen doorway, hands planted on her rounded hips. Sunlight danced behind her, turning her hair into a fiery halo, outlining her shapely thighs through her thin cotton dress.

  An increasingly familiar stab of lust besieged him. For a tempting second he fantasized tossing the wench over his shoulder and having his way with her.

  Sanity prevailed. Ovulation had come and gone, just in the nick of time. Yesterday at work the memory of their gardening exploits had proved a terrible distraction. And last night’s less exotic but equally satisfying lovemaking actually had him doodling on a brief today. He never doodled and certainly never on a brief. Now the only reason to make love to his wife was desire and that wasn’t part of the deal.

  He rose to his feet, annoyed by his lasciviousness and at being caught in a conversation with a dog.

  “Hi. Let me change clothes before dinner, okay?”

  Laughter sparkled in her blue eyes. “Take your time. Dinner’ll keep. Just don’t let Toto tie you up in anything too philosophical.”

  Andrew smiled at her wit and then sobered at a jolting thought. “I’m not sure exactly what you two discuss, but you don’t need to mention t
his to Bitsy.” He shuddered to think of her merciless teasing.

  “What? That you change clothes before dinner?”

  “The dog.”

  A smile quirked at her delectable mouth. “Oh, you mean that you talk to my dog. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t dream of telephoning Bitsy with it.”

  “Thanks.” He started down the hall to the bedroom.

  “Then I wouldn’t have anything to talk about at the reception on Saturday.”

  He stopped and turned slowly to face her, aware of the stiffness in his neck that had plagued him all day. “What color’s your dress for the party?”

  “Royal blue with jewel tones.” She answered without hesitation, then paused, suspicion narrowing her eyes. “Why?” Before he could say anything, she answered for him, her expression clearing. “You want to get a corsage for me?”

  He paused for effect. “No. So, I’ll know what color muzzle to order.”

  Kat sputtered behind him as he continued to the bedroom. Andrew unknotted his tie, pleased at having one-upped his impudent wife.

  He dropped his briefcase onto the worn rocker resting in a corner of the bedroom. Mark Antony, his decorator, had designated the house’s interior scheme minimalist tranquility. Now, with Kat’s things tucked into corners and nooks, he realized that translated to stark.

  Since Kat’s arrival, his house felt like a home. The room across the hall with his exercise equipment could easily be turned into a nursery. His house was fast becoming cozy and warm.

  Andrew scowled at the thought and at the little dog that had followed him. Toto hopped up beside him as he sat on the bed and unbuttoned his shirt.

  “Dammit, I don’t want warm and cozy.”

  In the distance, Kat banged around in the kitchen, for all the world as if she belonged there. As if she belonged here.

  The thought further tightened his already tense neck muscles.

  He’d seen it time and time again among his peers and his parents. Warm and cozy didn’t last. He doubted if his parents had ever had warm and cozy between them. Perhaps in the beginning? Certainly he’d never seen a vestige of it in their relationship. With painful clarity he remembered a nanny who’d showered him with affection. At eight, he’d soaked it up like a dry sponge. He’d been devastated when she had to leave to take care of an ailing mother. Oh yes, he’d learned early on to maintain a distance.