New and…Improved? & Andrew in Excess Read online

  Tonight she and Andrew were meeting, with their attorneys in tow, for the first time in the week and a half since she’d propositioned him, although they’d had several short, perfunctory phone conversations in the interim.

  “Hi, sis.” Her older brother ambled across the restaurant.

  Kat stood and hugged him. “Thanks for coming, Jackson.” He might be her sibling, but he was also one of the best lawyers she knew, and the only one she trusted to keep this agreement confidential.

  “You realize this whole thing is against my better judgment. And Father’s going to be furious when he finds out,” he said without preamble.

  “Jackson, practically everything I do is against your better judgment.” Kat winced when she thought about her father’s reaction, but she’d made up her mind. “Unfortunately, it won’t be the first time Dad’s disapproved of me.”

  Umberto interrupted with a basket of fragrant garlic rolls and Kat’s wine. He bowed slightly in Jackson’s direction. “A glass of Chianti for you?”

  “Thanks.” Umberto glided away and Jackson picked up the conversational thread. “I don’t understand why you can’t just fall in love, get married and have a baby.”

  He didn’t add “like everyone else.” He didn’t have to. It hung between them unspoken. Kat had lived a lifetime of being different.

  “In case it slipped your mind, I tried that with Nick and it landed me a charming case of desertion.”

  “If I ever get my hands on that…”

  “…low-life, slime-sucking son of a bitch, you’re gonna kill him.” Kat finished the diatribe she’d heard so many times before. “You’d have to take a number.”

  She patted Jackson’s hand. She wasn’t bitter, but she’d learned her lesson and learned it well. “It’s okay, Jackie. Honest it is.”

  “Well, I hate to bring it up, but you know sometimes you’re a little excessive.”

  “I have several excellent behavior modification tapes that have really helped.”

  “Several? Humph. What about that time you bought all that pink paint because you liked the color and it was on sale?”

  “That was a long time ago!”

  “How many pairs of shoes do you own? And how many had you just bought at that sale the last time I met you for lunch?”

  “I’m not shopping any more shoe sales and I promise these tapes are great. Try to understand I need to do this my way.”

  Umberto placed a glass of wine in front of Jackson and slipped away.

  “I respect that. I don’t agree with it, but I respect it. By the way, I’ve got an ethics question for you.”

  Jackson had plied her with ethical dilemmas from the time he’d entered law school. Kat had always marched to a slightly different drummer, and he swore it gave him a fresh perspective.

  “Shoot.”

  Jackson toyed with the stem of his glass. “You have a client who gives you specific instructions. But, as an attorney, you don’t feel they serve your client’s best interest. Your client’s current wishes would, in the long run, pose a serious problem. Do you adhere to his wishes or act in his best interests?”

  Kat knew better than to ask for details or specifics. Jackson would never betray client confidentiality. For a fleeting second she thought about her own case. Jackson made no bones about his disapproval. However, she’d given marrying Andrew and having a baby a lot of thought-it wasn’t a whim. Besides, Jackson knew she’d kill him if he was playing games with her. She tossed out the idea and went on to consider the question from a general perspective.

  Kat recognized clients were often distraught. Usually by the time they got around to contracting the services of a lawyer, they were an emotional mess. Most of them didn’t know the intricacies of the law, which often rendered their requests or instructions ill informed. It was the reason they paid exorbitant fees for legal counsel.

  “Earn your money and act in his best interests.”

  “Good answer.” Jackson reached into his suit pocket, pulled out a cigar and clamped it between his teeth.

  “Don’t even think of lighting up that thing,” she warned as she fished a garlic roll out of the basket.

  “I’m not, but it couldn’t possibly smell any worse than that.” He defiantly waved his cigar at the bread.

  Kat broke off a small piece and launched into the question she’d avoided asking since Jackson’s arrival. “So, is the contract in order? Everything’s clear? You spelled out all the stipulations?”

  Jackson didn’t blink. “Yes, yes and yes. But I still think-”

  “Jackie, I know what you think. But if everything’s in order, I plan to marry Andrew Martin Winthrop III.”

  She looked forward to seeing him tonight. She needed a blast of arctic ice from those cold gray eyes. It had been far too easy to forget his aloofness and lose herself in his voice over the phone. His voice brought to mind a good bourbon. Potent. Heady.

  As if conjured up by her thoughts, that voice interrupted her reverie. “Good evening, Kat.”

  She glanced up with a start. Edward Sommers and Andrew were standing beside the table.

  Her gaze riveted on Andrew. Good Lord, if he wasn’t a total package. Coal black hair cut precisely and brushed back from a face saved from being pretty by a slightly crooked nose and a harsh mouth. And summa cum laude from Harvard. Fabulous genetic material. She buried a sigh. It was a good thing she didn’t go for his type. Otherwise she would be making a big mistake marrying him.

  Kat rose from her seat and Eddie enveloped her in a bear hug. “Welcome to the family.” Edward spoke low in her ear.

  Kat laughed at his forwardness. “Good to see you again, Eddie.”

  She shifted to face Andrew. She could hardly hug his lawyer and then shake her fiancé’s hand, could she?

  Kat stood on tiptoe and twined her arms around Andrew’s neck. He stiffened beneath her hands when she bussed his cheek. He was all hard, masculine angles. If she thought he sounded and looked good, he felt and smelled even better.

  Kat withdrew from him and sank into her chair, glad of the support it offered, while the men indulged in a flurry of handshaking.

  “Andrew, Eddie, this is Jackson Hamilton, my attorney and brother.” She sent Jackson a teasing glance, determined to lighten the atmosphere. “Our mother had a fixation with dead presidents when he was born.”

  Edward interrupted her introductions with a friendly nod. “It’s okay, Kat. We’ve all met in the courtroom before.”

  “And I take it Katrina Anastasia was your mother’s Russian nobility phase?” Andrew drawled.

  Clever. Very clever. Kat snickered her appreciation of his parallel witticism, relieved to discover Andrew possessed a sense of humor. Next to her, Jackson nodded his approval.

  “Thank God, someone’s finally paid you back for that dead president joke.”

  ANDREW WATCHED Kat Devereaux walk back to the table. She’d excused herself to go to the bathroom when Jackson and Edward had left with minor contract changes. There was nothing provocative about either her walk or her manner but she exuded an unselfconscious sensuality. He also watched their doe-eyed waiter mooning over her.

  She slid into the seat next to him and treated him to a warm smile. “Ready to eat?”

  “That’s fine.” Andrew noted their smitten waiter hovering in the background. “I’m sure we’ll have the opportunity to order posthaste.” No sooner had Andrew spoken than the waiter approached the table. Andrew indulged in a scowl. Regardless of the underlying reasons, Kat was his fiancé. Almost.

  “We’re ready for our salads now.” She bestowed an equally warm smile on their waiter, who hurried off at her bidding.

  “We don’t order because there’s no menu. Mama Leone serves whatever she’s in the mood to cook. But I can promise you, it’ll be the best Italian food you ever tasted.” Kat waved a hand at the humble furnishings. “And I didn’t think you’d run into anyone you knew here.”

  “That’s fine.” He hadn’t come