“It’s not a house key, although I do have a spare I’ll give you.” He leaned forward and picked up the key, pressing it into the soft flesh of her palm. His fingers wrapped around hers a fraction longer than necessary. “It’s a car key.”

How could he shake her up with one lousy touch? Maybe this ovulation business had her sensitized. “But I already have a car.”

“After a fashion.”

“It runs.”

“After a fashion.”

“What are you going to drive if I drive yours?”

“You’re not going to drive mine. I bought you a new car.”

“What? You did what?” It came out annoyingly close to a squeak.

Andrew didn’t blink. “I bought you a car.”

She’d bought him a book-paperback at that-and he’d bought her a car! She pushed the key across the table to his side. “I don’t want another car.” For the briefest second she fantasized about air-conditioning, before loyalty squashed it. “I’m very fond of Carlotta.”

“We got married for two reasons, one of which was my partnership.” Andrew massaged his temple. “Whether either one of us likes it, my firm and our clients expect certain standards. As my wife, you can’t drive around in that road hazard.” He pushed the key back to her.

She acknowledged the veracity of his reasoning. She wavered and might have agreed, had he skipped his snide description of poor Carlotta. Kat leaned over the table, dropping the key into his khaki lap. “Easy. I won’t drive in front of your friends.” She plopped back into her chair.

“Even if that were reasonable, which we both know it isn’t, there’s still the other reason we got married.” He steepled his fingers over the bridge of his nose. “Monday morning the dealership’s delivering a station wagon. It’s one of the safest cars on the road. If you insist on turning me into a laughingstock before my colleagues, that’s your prerogative. Don’t drive the damn Volvo.”

He leaned forward. Steel threaded his voice and was evident in his gaze that pinned her to her chair. “But after the first time we make love, when there is even the slightest chance you might be pregnant, you lose the option. You will not endanger our baby by driving around in that death trap you call a car. You’ll drive the Volvo if I have to strap you in myself.”

Kat swallowed convulsively. He’d said “our baby.” Not the baby or your baby, but “our baby.” Not a single argument came to mind. She was dismayed she hadn’t considered Carlotta was neither safe nor reliable for a baby. There were times when giving in didn’t mean crying “uncle.”

“Okay. I’ll drive it.”

Andrew shoved back his chair and tossed her the key.

“You could’ve at least let me pick out the color,” she groused, compelled to object to his high-handedness.

He gathered the remains of their meal and started toward the kitchen. “Luckily they had a cancellation on a special order.” He paused at the door. “It’s purple.”

Toto trotted out as Andrew disappeared into the kitchen. Insects droned with the coming of dusk and Kat continued to stare at the doorway Andrew had disappeared through. He’d bought an expensive new car to keep them safe. He’d bought her a purple car!

Toto jumped into her lap and lavished her with a doggie-breath kiss. She scratched behind his ears and sighed into the night. “Houston, we’ve got a problem. Where’s my tape? I need to listen to my tape.”


“WHICH SIDE DO YOU PREFER?”

Kat shrugged her ambivalence, lifting the hem of her lime-green, oversize T-shirt to just above her knees. “It’s your bed. You choose.”

Despite having spent the better part of the evening in his study, a stroke of bad luck sent him to bed at the same time as his wife. He wasn’t looking forward to sharing a platonic bed with this woman who, in turn, bewitched and frustrated him. Andrew wondered if she always wore the hideous shirt to bed or if, fearing he’d lose his head after seeing her naked earlier, she’d donned it deliberately. “Go ahead and take the side closest to the bathroom.”

While Kat settled Toto in a doggie bed situated by the closet, Andrew stripped down to his briefs. Doubtless, she expected pajamas.

By the time she finished with Toto, he’d settled between the cool cotton sheets. Her eyes widened when she turned and noticed his bare chest above the sheet. He recognized the surprise on her face. She didn’t know whether he was naked below the sheet or not. He grinned to himself. Let her continue to wonder. Served her right for wearing that atrocity.

“Did you talk to your father tonight?” she queried as she crossed the room. He’d swear his bold, brazen wife had a case of nerves.

“Yes. Did you?”

“Talk to your father?”

“No. Talk to your father.”

The mattress shifted slightly as it absorbed her weight. “Oh, yeah. I called Dad about half an hour ago.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her try to discern whether he had on any clothes as she drew the sheet around her. A flicker of annoyance told him she still didn’t know.

“Let me guess. He was thrilled to welcome me into the bosom of the Hamilton family,” Andrew said.

She turned to face him, dramatically reducing the space between them. She smelled faintly of mint toothpaste, and in his mind he easily stripped her of the green abomination. He knew what was underneath, and wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon. His jockeys seemed to shrink. Certain parts of him remembered all too well.

“I wouldn’t call him Dad the next time I see him in court, if I were you.” She grinned, quick and irreverent. “And your father’s thrilled I’m a Winthrop?”

“A.W. and Rand probably have a lot in common.” Thank goodness, she hadn’t inquired about his phone call to Claudia. Graciousness hadn’t been in Claudia’s vocabulary.

“Did he mention your partnership?”

“No. Let’s just say he was surprised that it wasn’t Claudia.”

Doggie snores filled the silence between them.

Kat shifted underneath the covers. Her soft calf whispered against him for the briefest moment. His mouth dried.

Awareness filled the space between them. She didn’t look at him, but it was there in the budding of her nipples against her T-shirt. If he hadn’t married her, he’d consider seducing her, because he wanted her in the most basic way and her body seemed to respond in kind. But he’d become a sperm donor when he’d signed on the dotted line.

Kat dusted her hands together. “Well, we seem to have some more business to take care of tonight. I checked my ovulation prediction kit and it seems I’m in season. You know, now’s the time. We should probably get the sex thing over with.”

5

UH-OH. KAT NOTED the slight narrowing of Andrew’s eyes. Perhaps she should have been more select in her terminology. However, she was determined not to go overboard. She’d show moderation. Keep it to a business level. Theirs was a business arrangement after all. No need to lose her head just because they were about to get naked together. If he wasn’t already…

Andrew propped on one elbow and leaned closer to her. The sheet slid down, baring his flat stomach. “I’ve never done the ’sex thing’ with procreation in mind. Anything I need to know? Does it matter which of us is on top? Should you be facing east?” The low timbre of his voice caressed her even as he reached over and traced a small circle on the back of her hand in a rhythmic motion.

Damn him. He was toying with her. All she wanted was a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. Just the thing most women got with most husbands. But no. She had the rotten luck to stumble onto one intent on seduction. And darn good at it. She felt slightly dizzy and he’d only touched the back of her hand. So far.

It had been a really long six-year dry spell since Nick had hit the door. Six long, abstinence-filled years in which she’d avoided entanglements like the plague-because of that blasted all-or-nothing tendency of hers. She’d heard somewhere that sex was like riding a bike. Except she suspected she’d upgraded from a three-speed to a ten-speed along the way. Suddenly nervous, Kat ran her fingers through her perpetually disheveled hair.

“The only requirements are once a day for the next three days.”

“Only once a day? Surely twice a day would double our odds.” He slid his bedeviling hand beneath the neckline of her T-shirt and trailed her collarbone. Frissons of delight danced across her skin.

How was she supposed to keep her wits about her with his touch igniting small fires? “Uh, no. It doesn’t work that way. It decreases the potency of the sperm if you…” His mouth whispered along the shell of her ear. “If you, uh…oh my, uh, do it, um, too often.”

“You’re the boss. If you say once a day, then it’s once a day.” Andrew pushed the sheet into a tangle at the foot of the bed.

“What’re you doing?”

“I have a job to do and it’s time to get down to business.”

Now this was more like it. Now they were getting to the wham-bam part. Business. This was a business arrangement.

Baby for her. Partnership for him. Cut-and-dried. No crazy excesses.

Andrew leaned away from her, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe. She looked her fill of him. Peering at him through binoculars didn’t come close to this. Golden skin lightly covered with dark hair. No bulging muscles marred the classic lines of his body. He was all hard planes and angles bisected by a pair of white briefs that evidenced his willingness to get down to business. Want and intent warmed his eyes to a smoky gray.

She closed her eyes and inhaled his male scent.

“You have the most exquisite legs.” The low, heated timbre of his voice opened her eyes and increased the ache building inside her.

Not okay or nice, but exquisite.