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 for the gastronomic experience. He reached into his jacket pocket. There was no way he would have given her this with Jackson and Edward watching, but he’d rather get it over with before dinner arrived.

He slapped a sealed envelope on the table and stared past her at a charcoal drawing of a fishing village. It tilted crookedly on the wall.

She ripped into the envelope. “Oh, my. According to this, your sperm count is above average.”

He retrieved the single sheet of paper and tucked it back into his pocket. “So they said.”

Kat shifted toward him, her indigo eyes alight with avid curiosity. “I’ve always wanted to know, did you have to…”

Andrew cupped her pointed chin in his hand and leaned in close. “We are not going to have this conversation. Not here and now. Not later. You’ll have to find someone else to quiz for details or continue to wonder.” It had been damned humiliating. They’d put him in a room with a little cup and… It was the closest he’d come to calling the whole charade off.

Kat’s full bottom lip puckered into a pout. On any other woman it would have been a studied ploy of seduction. A move calculated to drive him to acquiesce to her request. On Kat it was pure and simple sulking. And tenfold as enticing. “But I just wanted-”

Andrew slid his thumb to rest against her lips. “Shh. Let’s talk about something else.” He sure as hell hoped she came up with another topic of conversation, because all he could think about was the lush fullness of those lips against him. He released her and leaned back in his chair, only to notice her hand tremble as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

Romeo arrived bearing salads. He situated Kat’s before her with a flourish and a murmured, “Cara mia.”

“Thanks, Umberto.”

Umberto, not Romeo. Romeo seemed more appropriate. He placed Andrew’s salad before him with much less pomp.

Kat broke the tension-laden silence. “I have my own medical evaluation if you want to see it. And you had enough time to check me out?”

“It’s not necessary for me to see your evaluation. And yes, I’ve had plenty of time to check you out. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here.” Plenty of time to ascertain through his P.I.’s report that she was an elementary art teacher, immensely popular with students, parents and faculty alike. She shared a similar background with him. She lived fairly modestly except for what appeared to be a proclivity for the shoe department at Dillard’s.

“Right. Have you told Claudette yet?”

“No. And I’m not going to until after the fact. Claudette…I mean, Claudia…would go straight to my father. She knows he expects me to marry her.” For some annoying but inexplicable reason Andrew felt compelled to justify his relationship with Claudia to Kat. “Claudia doesn’t care a whit about me, but she isn’t going to take it well when she finds out I married you instead of her. Missed opportunity and such. That’s why we should get married quietly in the next week or so and then tell everyone.”

“I think we can count on several people ‘not taking it well.”’

Andrew stared in fascination as she nibbled a cherry tomato. He swallowed hard and reached into his pocket. “I believe you’re right about that.”

He grasped the small velvet box. Perhaps she’d put down the damned tomato. He slid the jeweler’s case onto the table next to her salad.

Kat’s knife clanged against her plate. She eyed the box suspiciously. “What’s that?”

“It’s a bomb,” he answered with a hint of sarcasm.

“What?”

“What does it look like? It’s a ring.”

“But I don’t want a ring. At least not an engagement ring. A plain gold band will suffice.”

She was far too transparent for her own good. With her emphasis on “plain,” she might as well have come out and said she thought he’d give her something ostentatious.

“As my wife, people will expect you to wear something other than a plain gold band.” He nudged the box closer to her. “Open it.”

Momentary reprieve arrived in the form of Umberto carrying two generous servings of gnocchi. When he left, muttering over the two barely touched salads he’d cleared away, Andrew pressed the box into Kat’s hand. “Just take a look at it.”

With a decided lack of enthusiasm, she cracked the box open and stared at the ring, speechless, which seemed a novel state for Kat from what he’d observed thus far. Finally she pulled it out. The fiery iridescence of the opal flanked by twin sapphires came to life in the light. “It’s beautiful. Simply beautiful.”

“I’m glad you approve. You didn’t seem like the diamond type.”

“I’m not. I’m just surprised…” Her voice trailed off, as if loath to finish the thought.

“What? That I realized it?”

“Well, actually, yes.” Wariness gleamed in her eyes.

He took the ring from her. “May I?”

“Okay.” She presented her hand with reluctance. “But I need to ask you a question.”

Andrew slid the ring onto her finger, noting the small callus that marred her palm. He frowned at the hint of desperation tinging her voice. “What’s the question?”

“Do you read the Wall Street Journal?”

Andrew recalled a long-ago trip to the fair. He’d been about ten and had gone through the fun house. Mirrors and tilting floors had left him slightly off-kilter, disoriented and thoroughly delighted. Much the same as having a conversation with the entrancing Kat. He stared at her for a moment and then did the only thing he could. He threw back his head and laughed.

Bemusement replaced amusement. Where the hell had that question come from, besides left field? “Of course.”

She nodded her approval and speared a bite of her gnocchi. “You really should try this. It’s outstanding. Early-morning delivery?”

“Actually, I’m on-line.” She appeared positively gleeful at that news. “Why? Are you a fan?”

“Nope, I think it’s dreadfully boring.”

Andrew shook his head slightly to clear it. Obviously he was missing something. “Then what’s this all about?”

“Consider it a reality check. One more thing. Would you mind eating at least part of a garlic roll?”

Katrina Anastasia Hamilton Devereaux soon-to-be-Winthrop was a hell of a conversationalist. Talking with her was rather like chasing a roller coaster. “Would you mind explaining?”

“I’ve had quite a few of them and, they’re rather strong.” That was an understatement. They were safe even if they found themselves in the midst of a vampire coven. “And I thought it would be a good idea if we kissed before we went home-to test and make sure one of us isn’t repulsed by the other when it comes down to it. And with all the garlic rolls I’ve had I just thought it’d be a good idea if we started out on an equal footing. You know if you haven’t eaten one, you could be really put off by…” The tip of her tongue wet the fullness of her lower lip in nervousness, and he felt an instantaneous tightening in his groin.

Andrew plucked a roll from the basket.

He didn’t like garlic.

He ate the entire thing.


KAT AND ANDREW LEFT Mama Leone’s behind and stepped into the soft glow of a streetlight.

“I’d recommend carrying out our test in the privacy of a car, preferably mine. I believe it offers more room,” Andrew suggested.

Kat would have argued in favor of Carlotta if she’d detected even a hint of criticism, but she recognized that Trudy was much roomier. “Where are you parked?”

“This way.” Andrew guided her with a light touch to the small of her back. She stepped over the uneven pavement and realized her future hinged on this one kiss.

Her Wall Street Journal reality check earlier had served its purpose. Andrew had shown such insight in presenting her with the simple yet exquisite opal-and-sapphire ring instead of the cold elegance of diamonds, it unnerved her. She absolutely did not want emotional attachments or compatibility with this man. Ye gods, she’d almost crowed with relief at the news he was an on-line subscriber. She was safe. And one step closer to getting her baby.

Now she just needed to verify they were physically compatible.

They stopped next to the gray sedan and Andrew opened the passenger door for her. Kat slid onto the cool smoothness of the leather seat. She knew she enjoyed looking at him-especially the rear view-and his touch elicited a tingling awareness, but she had to know how they would both respond to the intimacy of a kiss. Better to know now than after they’d married.

Andrew slipped into the driver’s seat, breaking her contemplation of their compatibility. He casually tossed his suit coat into the back seat before he turned a CD player on and the low, plaintive wail of a saxophone wove itself around them.