The Bachelor Takes A Wife

“I think not,” she said coolly, trying to pull her arm out of his.

“Think again. It’s only good protocol for our guest of honor to have an escort,” Keith said smoothly while giving her a head-to-foot inspection. She was utterly beautiful. In college she’d been pretty, with long black hair and dark-blue eyes. Hell, she’d been cute as a button when she’d been a kid, a fact he remembered very well because they’d grown up next door to each other. But cute and pretty simply weren’t the right words to describe how she looked now. Her figure was incredible, especially provocative in that two-piece ivory gown she was wearing. It fit like a dream, from its high neckline all the way down its classic lines to a hem incorporating one sexy slit that permitted brief glimpses of the lower portion of her left leg. It was a marvelous dress, Keith decided, its delightful color accenting Andrea’s hair and eyes. Her black hair was much shorter now, but its simple style was extremely becoming to her beautiful face.

“If I had wanted or believed I needed an escort, I would have invited a friend to accompany me this evening. Your protocol is about fifty years outdated. You may find this a major shock to your good-old-country-boy beliefs, but nowadays women actually walk and talk all on their own. Please let go of my arm.”

“I’ll let go of yours if you’ll take mine.”

“How about if I kick you in the knee, put you out of commission and get rid of you that way?”

“Resorting to violence already, are we?”

Andrea shook off his hand with one big jerk of her arm. “That’s enough childish horseplay!” She started walking toward the entrance, fully aware of Keith keeping up with her every step. He wasn’t going away, however rude she might be. She heaved a sigh. The evening was going to be as unbearable as she’d anticipated.

Inside the club there was a receiving line, and while Keith bantered and laughed with his friends greeting the arriving guests, Andrea smiled congenially, and furtively checked out the décor. It was as dreadfully macho as she’d been told. Was that a boar’s head over the mantel? She shook hands and made appropriate comments to people she recognized but just barely knew. Her friends were not members of this club, which admittedly did a lot of good for the community but was also known for some very rowdy escapades. Now that Andrea was inside she could tell that the band was playing some very lively songs, mostly with a country-and-western slant. Well, what did you expect? Schubert? Beethoven? Chopin?

“My dear, we’re all so proud of this year’s choice of charities,” an older woman, Janice Morrison, wife to a lifetime member of the club, said while gripping Andrea’s hand in a long handshake. Mrs. Morrison’s diamond necklace alone would have financed the operation of New Hope for five years, Andrea thought, although she certainly did not begrudge the congenial woman her astounding necklace. Andrea was wearing very little jewelry herself—a pearl-and-diamond ring and matching earrings—but she had some very good pieces in her safe. They were gifts from Jerry, her deceased husband, which was the only reason she kept them, because she hadn’t worn the items since his death.

“We at New Hope are both proud and delighted,” Andrea murmured. “Be assured that all donations will be put to very good use.”

“I’m sure they will. My, you two make a fine-looking couple,” Mrs. Morrison gushed.

The woman was gazing from her to Keith, and Andrea’s smile faded a little as she withdrew her hand. Keith saved the day by quipping, “We’re just a couple of old friends, Janice.”

Janice Morrison wasn’t convinced. “Who do you think you’re kidding, Keith Owens?”

Andrea wilted internally. Here was a lady with a long memory, and there were probably dozens of others attending the ball that also remembered when the Vances and the Owenses—her parents and Keith’s—had lived next door to each other. This time, when Keith took Andrea’s arm to steer her away from the receiving line, she felt too weak to protest. How in heaven’s name was she going to make it through an entire evening of innuendo and reminders and still keep on smiling?

“Sorry about that,” Keith said to her.

Andrea forgot about smiling and her eyes flashed angrily. “Why would you expect anything else when you’re sticking to me like glue?”

“Would you really rather be left on your own in this crowd?”

“I’d rather not give anyone the wrong impression!” Andrea glanced around. “Do you have any idea of how many people are looking at us right now?”

Keith glanced around himself, then grinned wickedly. “Quite a few, by the looks of it. Wonder what they’re whispering about. Maybe they’re wondering if we’re sleeping together.”

Andrea gaped at him. “Are you mad? We didn’t even sleep together when we dated!”

“That sure wasn’t my fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t. Since you had—and probably still do have—the morals of an alley cat.”

“Don’t tell me the subject of sex still embarrasses you. Andrea, you’re a big girl now. Actually, when I think about it, you were a big girl in college, but you had far too many hang-ups for a…” Keith wisely closed his mouth. He’d been about to say something about randy young college men, but decided to avoid that topic for the present. “How about a glass of champagne?” he asked instead.

“If I say no are you going to go off and find someone else to badger?”

“Nope.”

“Then yes, I’d like a glass of champagne.”

“Great.” Placing his hand on the small of her back, and enjoying a delicious tingle in his lower regions from the physical contact, Keith steered her through the crowd to one of the bars and ordered two glasses of champagne. After handing one to Andrea he smiled and said, “Cheers, sweetheart, and let me add that you’ve got what it takes.”

Andrea felt heat rising in her cheeks and knew that she’d turned pink. “What on earth are you talking about? Why didn’t you stop at ‘cheers’ and make this a tolerable occasion?”

“You know, I should have. Sometimes I say things without thinking. I mean, that was obviously a compliment, but if I had thought about it before speaking, I would probably have postponed it until you’d had a couple of glasses of champagne.”

Andrea glared at him. “Meaning I would appreciate crude remarks then? You didn’t know me in college and you don’t know me now. I never liked your crudity, which you would remember for yourself if your self-serving, smug, conceited head wasn’t bigger than Rhode Island!”

Keith roared with laughter. “Andy, I absolutely adore you.”

“Oh, give me a break,” she drawled, although her heart was suddenly pounding unmercifully fast. He didn’t mean what he’d said, for heaven’s sake. He was just the kind of man who said outrageous things to women and then laughed at their reactions. He obviously believed he was God’s gift to womankind, and maybe he was—for some women—but he was no gift in her estimation. He was a cad without a conscience, and he didn’t even have the grace to pretend otherwise.

He peered, owl-like, at her over the rim of his glass as he took another swallow. “How about a game of tit for tat?”

“Which is?” she asked, frowning and suspicious.

“I’ll give you a break if you get rid of that stick up your spine. You used to be a fun person to be with. You used to laugh a lot. You’re arguably the most beautiful woman here and if people are staring and speculating, that’s why. After all, I’ve been single and alone for four years. I’d have to be crazy to be talking with the loveliest lady here and not let you—and everyone else—know that I’m interested.”

Andrea gasped. “Do you actually have the temerity to think I care if you’re interested?” Fury set in then, and she felt herself start to tremble. She had to get away from him before she let the whole crowd know that she could happily murder Keith Owens where he stood. “Which way is the ladies’ room?” she asked. It was at that moment that she realized she didn’t have her handbag. “Oh, no, I left it in the limousine!”

“Left what in the limo?”

“My handbag.” She glared into Keith’s eyes. If she hadn’t been so unnerved by the evening ahead at the time of arrival, she never would have left anything in that accursed limousine. This, too, was Keith’s fault. “Where do they park the limousines? I need to get my bag.”

“I’ll show you.”

Just then a man’s voice intruded on them. “Well, this must be the guest of honor, Andrea O’Rourke.”

Both Andrea and Keith turned a bit to see the man. Keith’s expression was no longer flirtatious and friendly, Andrea saw with some surprise. In fact, he was actually glowering at a very attractive man in an elegantly tailored black tuxedo.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me, Keith?” the man asked in a dangerously slick voice. Andrea could tell that Keith didn’t want this stranger even saying hello to her.

The man gave a dry little laugh. “Apparently the cat has taken hold of Keith’s tongue. Permit me to introduce myself, Andrea. I’m Dorian Brady.” He reached out and took Andrea’s hand. “This is an honor and a great pleasure,” Dorian said.

Andrea was not pleased. Dorian might be physically attractive, but something about him made her uneasy. She pulled her hand from his and said, “Thank you.” Keith was still scowling at Dorian, which was puzzling, since Keith seemed to be on friendly terms with all the other club members. “The directions to the parking lot, please?” Andrea asked him stiffly.

“Well, I can see that the two of you are quite involved. You will excuse me, won’t you? Good evening, Andrea. Perhaps we will meet again.” Dorian bowed slightly and departed.

“That creep,” Keith mumbled. “Andrea, give that guy a very wide berth.”

“I plan to, but not because of your orders,” she replied sharply. “Now how do I find the limousine parking area?”

Keith pulled himself together. Dorian’s unexpected intrusion had unnerved him. Actually, Keith had expected that Dorian would avoid the ball, especially since Merry and Jason were there. Maybe it was time the club members voted to revoke Dorian’s membership. Keith couldn’t remember a member ever being banned before, but there must be something in the bylaws about membership reversal.

Calmer again, he said to Andrea, “Why don’t I go and get your handbag? I could do it in half the time it would take you.”

“Just give me the directions,” she repeated.

“Fine,” Keith said with a disgusted shake of his head. He glanced around and was relieved to see nothing of Dorian. He didn’t want Andrea wandering the grounds alone with Dorian hot on her trail. Maybe Dorian had shown his face just to prove he could and had already left. “Go through that far door, which leads to a patio restaurant, then leave the patio and follow the main path through the flower garden, go past the pool and you will reach the club’s valet-parking area. The limousines are usually parked on the right side of the lot.”

It sounded like a long walk to Andrea, and his offer to run and get her handbag made a lot more sense than her strolling that far on high heels. But she’d already refused his help, and pride wouldn’t permit her to backtrack. Andrea handed him her glass. Then, with a stony expression and a clipped and unfriendly “Thank you,” she turned on her heel and headed for the far door.

Walking as fast as possible in her dressy high heels, Andrea easily followed Keith’s directions. Her thoughts were still in a whirl from having to deal with Keith tonight. His mix of good looks, cocky personality and overwhelming self-confidence shouldn’t be allowed. She’d fallen head over heels for him years before she should even have noticed that he was a boy and she a girl, and while it nearly killed her to admit such a thing tonight, he was still a dangerous distraction to her emotional well-being.

Did he affect every female that way, or was she particularly susceptible to him?

Impossible, she decided. He probably drew women the way honey drew bees. She was just feeling overheated because of a very old romance and she resented it so much that she had to blink back tears of frustration.

Keith had said she was fun in college, and that she had laughed a lot. Obviously he’d never seen beneath the laughter to the serious young woman underneath who had adored him since childhood. Much of it had been hero worship. He’d been her favorite playmate and the friend to whom she could tell anything. He’d been the first boy to kiss her. They’d been around eleven at the time and had decided that kissing wasn’t nearly as much fun as swinging a bat in a softball game or doing cannonball leaps into a swimming pool.

High school had changed both of them. He’d become one of the swaggering superstar jocks, too cute to be believed and the target of every girl in school. Andrea had still adored him, but Keith’s head had swelled intolerably from his sudden popularity and she hadn’t been able to resist telling him to get real and to come back down to earth. He hadn’t taken criticism well, and their friendship had cooled drastically so that they rarely had even said hello to one another. The summer after high-school graduation they’d gotten back together and were thrilled to learn they had both been accepted at the same college, their plan for many years before Keith had grown too big for his britches.

Oh, yes, she’d been fun and had laughed at everything. What girl wouldn’t laugh a lot when she was in a wonderful college and had the best-looking, most popular boyfriend of any of her sorority sisters?

But then, of course, Keith began wanting more than kisses. And to be perfectly fair, she had wanted more than kisses, too. She’d explained her intention to wait for her wedding night to Keith, but he had never accepted her stand. Still, Andrea had been certain of their love, imagining Keith would get the message and propose to her.

The blinders had fallen from her eyes the fateful night she had eagerly anticipated a marriage proposal and had instead received a business proposition from the love of her life. That had been the end of everything. They had finished college without ever speaking another word to each other. She had married Jerrold O’Rourke—her sweet, sweet Jerry—six years later, and according to rumor, Keith had married about a year after that. His marriage had ended in divorce, hers by the terrible finality of death.

And now, after more years than she cared to add up, Keith was making overtures again? No, she would have no part of it. She didn’t need or want his friendship, and she certainly could never want anything else from him. She would get through tonight and then retreat back into her own life. This foray into Keith’s world would never be repeated. Never!

Andrea finally reached the parking area with its dozens upon dozens of cars. Veering right, she located the limousines and realized, to her dismay, they all looked alike. Her limo had been white, but most of them were white and she hadn’t paid attention to exterior details.

Distraught and frowning, she stood there and wondered what to do next. Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned and saw Keith coming toward her. Instead of resenting his presence, she felt relief. Maybe he could identify the right limousine.

“Something wrong?” Keith called out before reaching her. He’d seen nothing at all of Dorian, thank goodness, and hoped again that the slime had left the ball and gone back under his rock.

“All of these limousines look alike,” Andrea explained with a small frown.

Keith stopped next to her and studied the gleaming vehicles. “No, they don’t. The one you arrived in is third from the left.”

“It is?” Andrea peered at the one he’d named. To her it looked almost exactly like its neighbors, and she sighed. “I’ll have to take your word for it.” She started walking toward it. Keith kept stride—again—and she knew there was no shaking him tonight.

Keith opened the door of the limousine and peered inside. “I don’t see a handbag,” he said.

“Let me see.” Andrea tried not to make contact as she moved around him, but felt the brush of their bodies as she peered inside. The distraction of the warmth he was emanating and her determination to ignore it made it difficult to focus on the task at hand. “I don’t see it, either.”

Turning a bit, she sat on the seat and began checking under it. Sliding along the soft leather seat she finally exclaimed, “Here it is! It must have fallen…” To her dismay, when she looked toward Keith, he wasn’t patiently waiting at the door of the limousine, he was inside the car with her. “What on earth are you doing?” she demanded coldly.

“I was going to help you look for your bag.”

“Well, I found it, so put your transmission in reverse!”

“I’ve got a better idea.” He pulled the door shut and slid her way in one fluid movement. “The formal segment of the ball is going to get started in about ten minutes, but that’s long enough for former sweethearts to renew old acquaintances, don’t you agree?”

Two

To Andrea’s surprise, the closed door merely piqued her curiosity. Certainly there was no reason to fear Keith. Goodness knows, he’d never had a vicious or threatening bone in his body, and in spite of old resentments she couldn’t imagine him changing in that regard.

“Whatever could you be thinking?” she murmured.

Keith wasn’t a bit bashful. “There’s a lot on my mind tonight. For quite some time now. For certain since our last meeting.”

“Which was when?” There was false innocence in her voice because she recalled the last time they’d seen each other quite clearly. She had been dining with a very nice young woman, Rebecca Todman, who had come to her for advice over Rebecca’s abusive past. Andrea’s longtime, well-known connection with New Hope sometimes resulted in one-on-one discussions with distraught women seeking relief from emotional pain and scarring caused by abusive relationships.

At any rate, Andrea had listened to Rebecca’s story throughout most of the meal and was in the process of assuring her that she seemed to be on the road to healing herself when Keith and Robert Cole, the detective hired by Wescott Oil to investigate the murder of Eric Chambers, came into the restaurant. Andrea had seen their entrance but could not have imagined them joining her and Rebecca. Robert’s interest in Rebecca had been the big draw, not anything between her and Keith. She’d been only cool and distant with him, as usual, she recalled now, so whatever tidbit of association occurring that evening to cause “a lot on his mind” had completely escaped her notice.

“Surely you remember,” Keith said. “You were with Rebecca and…”

“Yes,” she said flatly, cutting him off.

In truth she had absolutely no desire to know what had happened that evening to reactivate his interest in her. The mere thought of Keith in her life again was stupefying. Why, they couldn’t be more different! He was wealthy beyond belief and while she was far from poverty—she had inherited from both of her parents and then her husband—her style of living would bore Keith silly. His would destroy her. Loud and boisterous friends, too much money and living in an ostentatious mansion? Oh no, she couldn’t even think of that sort of existence without shuddering.

The limousine’s interior lights had gone out when Keith closed the door, but the parking lot lights illuminated his face. Andrea looked straight into his eyes and asked, “Isn’t it time we returned to the clubhouse? If I remember correctly, dinner is to start promptly at eight. I don’t have a watch. What time is it?”

Keith obligingly checked his watch. “Yes, we have to go back, but in a minute. Andy—do you remember when I called you Andy?—for some time now when I’ve seen you something inside of me does flip-flops. I’ve been trying to understand it, without a whole lot of success. But since I have that same sensation tonight, it has to mean something. Any ideas?”

“One springs to mind,” she said dryly. “Flopping organs could be serious. I would contact my cardiologist and request an EKG if I were you.”

Keith grinned. “Ouch.”

“Then again, it could be gas. Come on, let’s go.”

Keith stared at her, admiring her grit and knowing he couldn’t let her get away with such brazen repartee at his expense. He moved quickly but smoothly, taking her by surprise, and ended up with his arms around her and his mouth on hers. He felt her shocked gasp on his lips but instantly forgot it within the hot whirlwind of emotions overwhelming him. Her mouth was incredible, soft and sensuous, and while she wasn’t exactly kissing him back, she wasn’t trying to scratch out his eyes, either.

He didn’t overdo it and broke the kiss after only a few moments. “Dear Andy,” he murmured softly. “Sweet as candy. We had the real thing once, or we almost did. Something tells me that this is our time.”

She was so outraged that she was trembling. “This is not our time! I don’t even know what you mean by that absurdity. Let go of me, Keith.”

“Let’s go inside and have some fun,” he said cheerfully, letting her go.

“I’m afraid your idea of fun and mine do not coincide.” Instead of waiting for him to get out through the door they both had used to gain entrance to the limousine, she opened the one on her side of the vehicle and exited as gracefully as she could manage, considering the explosive nature of her mood.

Keith hastened to join her. “When did you become a snob?” he asked.

Andrea stiffened and almost gave him no answer at all. How dare he judge her? But after a few seconds she had to defend herself. “I am not a snob,” she said icily.

“Sure you are. You think you’re superior to everyone here, especially me. You didn’t feel that way in college.”

“That was twenty years ago! I don’t know who or what I was in college, other than stupid!” She was referring, of course, to her relationship with him and hoping he got the message.

He did, but not precisely as she’d meant it. “It wasn’t twenty years ago, it was eighteen years ago, and we were both a little stupid in those days. But neither of us was a snob, Andy Pandy.”

“Please stop calling me those ridiculous names!”

“I like those names. Be honest. Didn’t you enjoy that kiss just a little?”

They had reached the patio, which was completely vacant. Everyone had gone into the ballroom for dinner. Andrea stopped at the door to send him a very poisonous look.

“You are my age, thirty-eight years old, and still you behave like an adolescent. No, Keith, I did not enjoy that kiss. Perhaps I liked being pawed in my youth, but my youth has long been spent. Apparently yours hasn’t.”

Swinging away, she opened the door for herself and went in. Shaking his head, Keith followed. “You act as though we’re ready for the rocking chairs. You sure don’t look like your nights should be spent a-rocking and a-reading. Hey, that’s good. You used to rock and roll, and now you rock and read.” He ducked his head to peer at her face. “Am I right or wrong?”

“What you are is incredibly vexing.”

“Vexing? I’m vexing? You know, I’ve seen that word in novels but I’ve never heard anyone actually use it before. Vexing Keith.” He chuckled. “Guess I’m a vexin’ Texan.”

“You’re also not nearly as clever as you think you are.”

“But I’m cute.”

Andrea rolled her eyes. “Puppies, kittens and small children are cute. You’re a middle-aged man, for pity’s sake. Get over yourself.”

“Middle-aged! Boy, you go right for the jugular, don’t you? Now, that hurt, Dandy Andy.”

“I hope so,” she said sweetly and then said no more; they had reached the entrance to the ballroom. She could see that it had been festively decorated and set up for dinner with numerous tables, which were filled with chatting, excited, laughing people. Later, after dinner and the ceremony of presenting her with the club’s donation, most of the tables would be removed to make room for dancing. Andrea planned to leave shortly thereafter, as soon as she could do so without appearing rude or ungrateful. She was, after all, representing New Hope, and she couldn’t act solely on her own behalf. Of course, if she had only herself to consider, she wouldn’t be here in the first place.