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Authors: Heather Graham

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BOOK: The Trouble with Andrew
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“Everyone is doing it, why not you?” he asked. “And it's all right, it's all right. It's really going to be all right.”

She found herself in his arms as he lifted her up. He slammed the faucet to turn off the water and carried her out of the shower.

“We're soaking your house,” she told him.

He shrugged.

“Drew, I'm all wet.”

“I'll dry you.”

But he carried her straight to the bed, lying down with her. He stayed at her side, stroking her hair, whispering that it was going to be all right. She believed him. She started to apologize.

“I don't know what—what got into me. I don't act like that. I—”

“Katie, my secretary, Jeannie, is the most capable human being I've ever met. Some little thing upset her the other day, and she was in torrents. People here have been through a trauma. There will be many crying jags before it's all over. We're human.”

She smiled suddenly. “And have you burst into tears?”

“Well, not yet. Not over this, but…”

“Men don't cry.”

“They sure do. I shed buckets when my dad died.”

She turned to look at him more closely. She was suddenly very afraid. She was falling in love with him.

“Feel better?” he asked her softly.

“Ah … yes.”

“I can make you feel even better,” he promised. His voice was low and husky. Sensual, insinuative. And still…

She was amazed at what it seemed to do to her. Fire leaped into her. Longing swept her every limb.

Perhaps it wasn't amazing. They were both naked on a bed, slick, clean, wet…

“No,” she told him. “I'm going to make you feel better,” she promised softly.

He started to speak, but she rose to her knees, pushing him back when he started to rise on his elbows. She brought her lips to his, kissing him softly. He tried to capture her nape, hold her to the kiss, but she moved too swiftly. She dusted her fingers over his chest, following her touch with the brush of her lips and tongue. Now she moved slowly, very slowly, sensually stroking his body with hers as she moved against him. She felt the sweet fire fill her with a greater force as his flesh seemed to burn beneath her, as his muscles constricted and rippled at her slightest caress. Her hands stroked over his hips, closed over his sex. A low groan escaped him, and she buried her face against the flat plane of his belly. A shudder gripped him and she found herself encased in his arms again, lifted high, brought atop him. He slowly brought her down, meeting her eyes with golden fire in his as her body sank to be impaled by his. Tiny convulsions gripped her as he seemed to fill her. She cried out, leaning against him, her neck gripped and his lips passionately locked with hers as his hips began to rock, as his hands slid over her buttocks, molding them together.

Moments later, she felt the earth shake, the sky explode, then she felt his arms tenderly around her as she seemed to float to some place on earth. Her eyes were closed, and she felt completely sated, almost like a very well fed cat. The tensions had eased from her; the breeze coming in felt gentle and caressing. She realized she was exhausted.

“I guess we should get up,” she murmured, easing against him. “Sophie is planning her party. Jordan—”

“Jordan is helping Len crack the tails—I was just over there. He isn't coming back to the house for awhile,” Drew assured her.

Jordan was fine. No one was waiting for her. She relaxed completely.

Drew was still for a few minutes. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, his head on the pillow.

“Katie, I need to talk to you about the storm,” he began.

She groaned. “No.”

“Katie—”

“Please,” she whispered. “Not now, please, just let me forget it for a few minutes.”

He was silent. She curled closer to him. She didn't want to think about the rest of the world. Not for awhile. This was too wonderful—making love with someone she was wildly attracted to, someone she cared about…

Someone she was falling in love with.

She didn't want to think about the danger of it. Not now. She wanted to lie in comfort beside him, feeling cared for, feeling cherished. Very relaxed, sweetly sleepy.

He didn't speak. She felt his gentle touch on her back just before she fell asleep.

Drew lay beside her for awhile, lower lip caught between his teeth. He wanted to keep touching her.

He didn't want to wake her. Today, Katie was aware of what their lives had become. She was tough, he knew. But it was hard for anyone to see the shattered community and accept what it would take to put it back together.

After a moment, he rose. He drew the comforter over her since the breeze might be cool on her damp, naked flesh. He paused a moment, appreciating the woman he was coming to…

Want.

Need.

Love?

She was so tempting, with her smooth, silky flesh, her dusky rose nipples a splash of alluring color against the rise of her breasts. She was curled in a sensual curve on her side, derriere rounded and perfect, waist slim, limbs long and shapely.

He dropped the comforter, reminding himself that she was sleeping.

He sighed, walking through the open French doors to the balcony. He'd wanted to talk to her so badly. He needed to explain what had happened—or at least explain that he didn't quite know himself.

He closed his eyes, thinking about Hunnicunn. His partner had died. Hunnington's daughter owned shares, and she made her presence known in the office now and then. If she had asked for his signature, he might have put it on something without giving it attention.

But he always read what he signed, or at least skimmed it.

Who else, who else?

He had employed people he trusted, people he thought shared his visions of what homes should be. Giles was an important member of the team. So was Andrea Hunnington—when she was in the mood, not flying around the Riviera. She was chairman of the board and president of the corporation; Andrew was vice president. Two of the men who had worked with his father, Harry Easton and Sam Jaffe, had come all the way with him. They still worked on the sites often, just as he did. But they were also officers, assistant vice presidents. His mother was on the board, but she stayed out of the office, giving her opinion only during an occasional meeting. Then there was his sister, Reva, who had refused a title from him but liked to come in and work on designs with him.

That was it, really. No one else could possibly have changed the designs or the plans or the order forms.

His mother hadn't done it. Nor his sister.

Andrea? Why? She had more money than Midas.

And he couldn't imagine who among them would have changed the houses.

But someone had.

And if it hadn't been for the storm…

But the storm had come. And the corporation was, for all practical purposes, his. The responsibility was his.

But someone had skimmed off a great deal of money. Who?

A bitterness swept him. Who, indeed? He wished he knew.

He wished he could tell Katie. He couldn't, but he still had to explain to her just exactly who he was. Maybe she would understand.

And maybe she wouldn't.

He swore softly and got dressed, determined to leave her sleeping in peace. He had just slipped into his shoes when he heard a knocking at the front door. He hurried down to answer it. He'd let her sleep awhile, then come back to take her to the party that would begin shortly next door.

Katie woke slowly, feeling greatly refreshed. She had to pause for a moment and remember why she was here, but then she smiled. “Drew?” she called. He didn't answer. She rose, peeked out the door and called his name again. Still no answer.

She decided on another shower. After a few minutes, she grew chilled, so she scrubbed herself and jumped out, shivering as she toweled dry. She dressed in denim shorts and a cool cotton top. Night was coming; the sun was down, but the heat still clung everywhere.

Andrew and Jordan hadn't returned, and she figured maybe they were at Sophie's, hungry for the lobster tails. Katie decided to go over.

Amazingly, there was something like a party going on. A radio was playing—music instead of news. The front door was locked, so Katie walked around the back.

The fallen screen from the Hampton's pool had been completely cleared away, and the patio had been swept and cleared of all debris. The pool still looked like a mud pit, but around it, Sophie had made everything neat and clean. Len was at the barbecue, which had been set very low so that he could sit on a folding chair and watch his lobster tails. He was deep in conversation with Ted Barlow. Jordan was playing some kind of card game with Amy Keogh and another little girl who had to be the Thomasons' child. Jordan was by far the oldest in the group, but he seemed happy enough to play with the girls, and Katie decided that at this point, anyone under the age of twenty had to look like fun to him.

“Katie!”

She turned quickly from the children to see that Midge was calling her. She waved and joined the young blond woman.

“Isn't this wonderful?” Midge said, leading the way into the kitchen. “I'm so sick to death of all the canned stuff we have. Lobster tails! In the middle of all this.”

“Not only that, but the most delicious lobster tails you'll ever have, I promise,” Sophie said, joining them at the open French doors that led from the patio. “And we've got barbecued potatoes, as well, a nice green salad—all right, so it's just a wee bit wilted—and Midge has made some kind of a no-bake chocolate dessert, so we're really feasting.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Katie said. “What can I do?”

“Have a seat,” Sophie told her. “We're just waiting for Seth and Drew to come back from the Keoghs—they've been fixing up over there today—and then we'll start. Come in, have a seat at the table.”

Katie followed her, smiling when she saw Susan Keogh sitting at the table. The woman was very pretty, now that she was dressed and calm and not dripping as Katie had seen her in the very early hours of the storm. She had huge dark eyes and light hair and a quick smile. She stood up as Katie came near, giving her a warm hug. “Katie! It's so wonderful to see you—I've been meaning to see how you were before now, but you know how things are going. Thank God, you're all right! We were worried sick, but Seth did see Andrew Cunningham coming for you, and he assured me that you had made it in from the storm.”

“We're fine, thanks,” Katie murmured. She slid into the seat beside Susan and smiled at the other person at the table, a dark-haired woman probably closer to forty than thirty, very slim but with a smile and bright green eyes that made her attractive.

“Katie, do you know Lucy?” Susan asked her.

“We've never met,” the woman said, stretching out a hand to Katie. “Lucy Thomason. Your son is being an absolute doll, entertaining the girls.”

Katie laughed. “He has his moments!”

“The girls adore him,” Susan said.

“And Jordan loves adoration, so I'm sure they'll be fine,” Katie said. If she had asked him to entertain a couple of little girls under normal circumstances, she was certain he would have done so—but he would have made a heck of a face at her. Things were different now. She was certain he'd be willing to go bike riding or throw a baseball around with just about anybody.

“Katie, what would you like to drink?” Sophie asked her.

“What are my choices?”

“Well, we've got ice tea, cold beer and soda.”

Katie decided on tea again, it had been so good before. As Sophie brought her a glass and sat down at the table with the other women, Susan murmured, “I wonder if I should go get the guys. They get busy on a project and forget that time goes by.”

“There's no hurry,” Sophie said. “They're getting your house back into shape, right?” Susan nodded. “Let them work, then,” Sophie suggested.

“Have you decided to stay for sure, then?” Lucy asked Susan.

Katie arched a brow at Susan. “Andrew offered to buy our place back,” Susan told her. “He offered to give us what we paid—and we'd keep the insurance settlement, as well.”

“What you paid?” Katie heard herself ask. “You paid Andrew for your house?”

Sophie laughed. “Of course, dear. You didn't know? Andrew is Hunnicunn Corporation. He's really gone above and beyond any realm of responsibility.”

“And I loved the house,” Susan was saying. “We're not leaving—I know it's going to be even better once it's repaired.”

There seemed to be a ringing in her ears. The conversation was continuing all around her, and she felt as if ocean waves were pouring over her.

Andrew was Hunnicunn Corporation. He had pulled her out of the storm, all but given her his home.

Because he was the one who had built her own! The one that had caved in during the storm.

She could sue him. They could all sue him.

“Well, the thing of it is,” Lucy was saying, “that there was nothing illegal about the roofs that came down—they just weren't made with the usual Hunnicunn quality of materials and workmanship.”

Katie felt sick. Furious. She wanted to scream and throw things.

He had told her that he owed her. Everyone knew. She simply hadn't understood.

Then she heard his voice. Heard his laughter as he walked into Sophie's house with Seth Keogh. Sophie grinned and hurried out to the living room to offer them cold beers. Both men thanked her and accepted.

Seth came into the kitchen first, grinning broadly. “We finished the broken tiles in the bedroom and got the new screens put in,” he told his wife, pausing behind her to hug her shoulders. “With the bed out of the spare room, we'll have a new bedroom by tomorrow.”

“Wonderful!” Susan said. Katie looked across the kitchen at Drew leaning in the doorway, holding the cold bottle of beer. They must have been working hard. A little trickle of sweat was running down his forehead to his chin. Other than that he looked…

BOOK: The Trouble with Andrew
11.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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