New and…Improved? & Andrew in Excess Read online

  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 plucked 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.

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