“I don’t know anymore,” she whispered against his lips. “Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.” She pushed past his cool, crisp shirt, not content until she contacted the warm flesh that was Andrew.

“Seize the day, trust the least possible to the future,” he translated as his hand tightened in her curls and the other explored the frantic pulse at the base of her throat. “I don’t think either one of us can do that, since the future is why we’re here.” His eyes glittered with a hunger that defied further suppression. “But I fully intend to seize the moment, because if I don’t kiss you right now, I think I might die.”

The rough want texturing cool, calculating Andrew’s voice excited her. She flicked at the corner of his mouth with her tongue, savoring the taste of his skin. “That won’t do at all-” she no longer knew where her breath ended and his began “-since you’ve yet to make partner.”

“Contrary to your book, a good lawyer’s a terrible thing to waste,” he murmured before his lips spanned the millimeter separating them, effectively ending further coherent thought.


ANDREW DRAGGED HIS MOUTH away from the luscious fullness of Kat’s as they cleared the bedroom door. “I have one request.”

Kat ripped away the few remaining buttons she hadn’t conquered as they’d kissed their way from kitchen to bedroom. Pushing aside the starched fabric, her small hands feathered his bare skin, further intoxicating him. He felt drunk from the taste and feel of her.

“Yes?” Her husky purr brought to mind any number of additional requests. Her fingernail scraped against the hardened nub of his male nipple, the sensation arrowing straight to his groin.

“The green T-shirt. Put on that green T-shirt.”

Her hand stilled its exploration. “The lime-green one?”

“The one you’ve worn every night for the past week.”

Despite her evident uncertainty, she walked to the bathroom. “The green?”

He enjoyed the alien surge of reckless abandon invading him, compelling him to make love to his wife for no good reason except driving, mind-stupefying want. “The green.”

She closed the door between them and he quelled his impatience. He knew he should seek out and don his customary detachment. Like a man tossing back one too many drinks, he knew he’d regret his glib indulgence in the morning.

Kat emerged draped in the enormous, hideous T-shirt.

What the hell. He was destined for a Kat Winthrop hangover.

He rounded the bed in answer to the question in her eyes, advancing until her erect nipples brushed against his bare chest. Taking her hand in his, he moved slowly until her palm rested full measure against his straining erection. “I want you to know the effect your green T-shirt has on me.”

Her eyes widened once again as she cupped his obviously undiminished arousal. Her curves arched into him in full appreciation. “Oh, my.”

He slid his hands under the cotton shirt, impatient for the silk of her thighs and the rounded curve of her fanny that had kept him up so many nights-literally. He’d had any number of beautiful women and none had ever threatened his control like his wife.

His entire life had been one ongoing exercise in emotional restraint. Intellectually, he knew Kat was a means to an end. Emotionally, he felt she might be the meaning to all ends. And physically, he planned to immerse himself in her silken warmth until he satisfied her beyond reason.


KAT WRAPPED HER LEG around Andrew’s well-formed thigh and sighed from the pure bliss of sexual satisfaction. She reached into the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a package of chocolate-covered raisins.

“Exquisite. Extraordinary,” she breathed, sinking back against the pillows, mired in a delicious languor.

Andrew arched a lazy, relaxed brow as she tugged open the cellophane candy wrapper. “Good chocolate?”

She curled her foot against the back of his knee, popping a raisin into her mouth. “The chocolate’s okay. The…that…us…just now.” She stumbled around her explanation. What they’d just experienced went beyond great sex. Andrew, with his tenderness and enthusiasm, had restored her feminine self-confidence that Nick had eroded throughout their marriage and finally stripped with his defection. And this time there’d been an emotional honesty between them. Unlike their previous lovemaking, there’d been no hiding behind ovulation and sperm counts.

A queer jolt flip-flopped inside her at Andrew’s smug grin. “Don’t you know it’s considered bad form to comment on performance?”

His relaxed teasing was heady stuff. She nibbled at the chocolate shell coating on the candy until it cracked. The sweet richness melted against her tongue. She and Andrew had been honest with each other from the beginning. Their truthfulness was one of the exhilarating components of their lovemaking.

“I’d say it’s bad form to let such a spectacular performance pass without proper accolade.” The last word slipped out on a breathless note as Andrew traced a circle on the slight mound of her belly.

“It was an honor to rise to the occasion.” A slight shifting of the sheet indicated a second occasion in the making. His hand traveled up to trek maddeningly against the soft underside of her breast. “Of course, I did have sublime inspiration.”

The dusky tips of her breasts tightened in response to the swift, slick heat brought on by his words and his touch. Kat arched against his hand. “Sublime?”

His tongue teased the corner of her mouth. “Absolutely sublime.”

She tossed the empty candy wrapper over the side of the bed and laid claim to his mouth hovering above hers. If she’d just defined sublime, she was ready to redefine it.

He withdrew his mouth and faced her with awe. “You ate all the candy, didn’t you?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She ever so gently commandeered him onto his back. With all his beautiful, male splendor stretched out before her, she kneeled over him, reveling in his visual caress. She tasted the sweat-slicked skin of his stomach as her hand explored his well-muscled thigh. Her voice thickened to a husky murmur as her hand drifted upward and her mouth moved to meet it. “I’m a woman given to indulging in excess.”

Andrew’s deep groan expressed his appreciation of that tendency.

9

“THINK OF IT AS AN organ donation of sorts,” Andrew argued. He found it downright frightening that he was beginning to not only understand but anticipate Kat’s logic. He knew convincing her to get rid of her junk heap and drive the Volvo was going to take some smooth talking.

“I just can’t bear to think of strangers disassembling Carlotta. We’ve been through a lot together.” Kat’s genuine distress brought him to the couch. He leaned over the back and rubbed the spot on her shoulder he’d discovered in the past week.

“Carlotta’s old and tired, honey. And think how many cars can be kept on the road because of her.”

Kat glanced up at him suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Absolutely not. I’m just trying to find a solution that works for everyone.” He refrained from adding that it’d be over his dead body that she ever placed herself in that wreck again.

He felt her shoulders relax as he rubbed lower. “I could arrange for you to ride with the tow-truck driver if you want.” He’d initially thought her attitude toward her old bomb plain nutty. Now Kat’s loyalty and capacity for caring overwhelmed him. She would make their kid a terrific mom. And he’d begun to believe he might make a pretty okay dad.

She sniffled. “Thanks, but I think a clean break might be for the best. I’ve been driving Charlemagne, and Carlotta looks so sad every time I pass by her.”

He didn’t ask. He knew. She’d christened the purple station wagon Charlemagne.

“I think that’s a good idea.”

Fessing up about that clause in the contract would be an even better idea. In hindsight, Andrew realized he should have negotiated the point up front. He should have worked out a compromise so that he had rights to the baby, also. His deception was going to cost him in her emotional trust and the longer he delayed the higher the stakes.

“Kat, there’s something else we need to talk about-”

The doorbell chime cut him off in mid-sentence. Someone had lousy timing.

“It’s two o’clock on a Sunday afternoon. Who could this be?” he muttered as he stamped to the door.

“Jehovah’s Witnesses?” Kat offered.

Andrew checked the peephole. A couple caught in a sixties’ time warp stared back from the other side. “I don’t think so.”

He opened the massive door, and the woman launched herself at him. “Son!”

Behind him, Kat jumped to her feet. “Mother!”


“IT’S THE NINETIES, not the sixties. New Age, not hippies,” Kat explained while squirting cheese from a tube on a cracker. Raising her voice, she called out, “We’ll be just a minute, Mom, Vince.”

“Take your time, baby. We’re just absorbing the karma.”

Andrew smirked at the karma comment. “What about these matching love beads for a wedding present?” He fingered the necklace dangling about his neck.

“Crystals. They’re crystals, not love beads.” Kat licked a glob of gooey cheese off her finger. “And I think it was a lovely gift.”

“I agree. It gives a whole new meaning to wedding crystal.” Andrew arranged the bottled seltzer on a tray. “Crystals-the gift that keeps on guiding.”

Kat snickered. “Bring your crystal and that seltzer and let’s get back out there.”

Kat’s mother and stepfather were in the den, busy soaking up karma like a pair of New Age sponges. The pair beamed beatifically while Kat and Andrew settled the trays.

“So, dear, we not only wanted to bring you your wedding gift, but we wanted to let you know how your numbers came in.”