The Trouble with Andrew Read online

  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…

  Perfect.

  Tall, well-built, so good-looking. Andrew Cunningham. Hunnicunn Corporation. Affluent, sophisticated, the man with everything. The man she had been sleeping with.

  The one she should have sued!

  Katie stood up and felt his eyes on her.

  She felt her tension grow.

  “Thanks, Drew!” Susan said.

  She was going to strangle him, Katie thought. He was frowning, staring at her, wondering what was wrong. “Sophie,” she managed to say, “I’ve got to go check up on something myself. Don’t wait for me. Get started. I’m not sure when I’m going to be back.”

  She fled out the French doors and walked around the side of the house. She felt on fire, burning with fury, with humiliation.

  She crossed the circle and burst in through her front door, leaned against it and stared at the devastation of her house.

  “Katie!”

  She felt the slam of his fist on the door behind her back and she didn’t move.

  “Katie, let me in!”

  She didn’t have any choice. He must have thrown his shoulder against the door because it opened. She spun around, fists clenched at her sides, ready to meet him.

  He stepped in, staring at her.

  “Katie—”

  “You bastard!” she hissed. “You did all this—and then you used me!”

  “Katie—”

  She didn’t know quite what had gotten into her, but she couldn’t seem to control herself. It was an awful day. First the tears, and now…

  She took a step forward, swinging out a hand that cracked like thunder across his face.

  He stood dead still, barely breathing, eyes narrowing as he stared at her. “I didn’t use you.”

  “I could sue you!”

  “Sue me, then, Mrs. Wells. There was nothing done illegally in construction.”

  “It was done cheaply!”

  “I don’t have an explanation and I don’t have an excuse. And if you remember correctly, you came into my bedroom that first night.”

  “You carried me.”

  “After you attacked me in the hallway,” he said smoothly.

  “Oh!” she cried. She grabbed for the closest thing she could find to throw.

  It was a smashed picture frame.

  He ducked as it hurtled his way. He hesitated and Katie found herself breathless, scrambling backward to escape him as he came toward her. Before she knew it, she was in his arms. They were powerfully wound around her, and even as she struggled, he kissed her, furiously, passionately, openmouthed, arousing her against her will even as she struggled to be free. She was losing her breath, losing her will to fight…

  His mouth lifted from hers and his eyes blazed down upon her. “I never, never used you!” he said. Then he released her. “Sue me!”

  He turned and walked out, leaving her in her devastated living room. Speechless, gasping for breath. Not at all sure of what to do.

  The door slammed after him. She paused, trying to still her nerves, trying to think. She had to go back for Jordan. She had to be calm and dignified, and she had to thank Sophie, and she had to eat dinner. Then what? She had her car. She needed to drive away.

  She needed a night somewhere to collect herself. To decide if…

  If she hated Drew Cunningham or if she was in love with him.

  “I do hate you!” she told the door.

  Then she bit her lip. She had to go to Sophie’s. She didn’t want Jordan to realize that anything was wrong.

  She threw open the door and saw a silver gray Cadillac driving up to her house.

  Her heart sank. Oh, God…

  Her father was here. Even as she stood there, Ron Wheeler stepped out of the car, tall, slim, lean, gray-haired, dignified and handsome.

  And ready to step right into her life.

  “Katie!”

  Chapter 8

  For such a slim, dignified man, he packed a wallop in a hug. Katie was nearly swept off her feet, but then she found herself hugging her father with the same fierce affection. She loved him and she was glad to see him.

  And she should have known he couldn’t stay away!

  He pushed her an arm’s length from himself, looking her over. “Well, you seem fine. The house looks as if it’s been through a blender, but you look all right, and that’s what matters. Where’s my grandson?”

  “Across the street. We’re having a party.”

  Her father lifted a gray, arched brow. “A party?”

  “Well, my neighbors invested heavily in lobster tails—then lost their freezer. Well, not their freezer, but the electricity.”

  She saw Sophie coming out on her porch to look around.

  Before the storm, Katie hadn’t been able to see Sophie’s house from her own. Now, courtesy of Andrew, she had a clear view. She waved, knowing that Sophie was worried about her.

  Sophie brightened quickly and started across the street.

  Her father frowned at her. “If the party’s over there, what are you doing here?”

  The last thing she felt like doing was trying to explain any of it to her dad. “I don’t know. I must have had a premonition or something that you might be driving up.”

  “You never were a good liar, Katie.”

  “Shh! Sophie is almost here.”

  “There you are, dear! I was starting to get worried,” Sophie said. Katie tried hard to keep smiling.

  Did she need to have everyone worried about her?

  “Sophie, this is my dad, Ron Wheeler. Mrs. Sophie Hampton, Dad. She and her husband, Len, live right across the street.”

  Ron shook Sophie’s hand. “Very nice to meet you. You’re the party people, eh?”

  “Yes, and we have plenty, so do, please, come along!” Sophie said. Ron grinned a little wickedly at his daughter. Almost like, See, I’m invited to your party, too!

  Katie made a face at him behind his back. Neither he nor Sophie noticed. “Sounds wonderful. Thank you,” Ron said. “It’s been a horrible drive down. Broward County doesn’t look great, and right after you pass it, it starts to look as if bombs went off.”

&
nbsp; “I haven’t braved the roads yet, myself,” Sophie said, “but I hear that driving is just horrible! But you’re here, now. Come on over, relax, have something cool—and some of my husband’s wonderful lobster.”

  “That’s very nice. Thank you. Katie?”

  “Lobster,” she said cheerfully. The three of them headed across the street, Katie in the rear while Ron and Sophie talked. Ron told Sophie that he’d spent most of his life in South Florida, but had gone up to the Orlando area to act as a consultant for a management firm, and that he’d wound up staying there. By then, they’d reached the house, and when they entered, Sophie had Ron on her arm, bringing him through the house and out the kitchen to the back, where the neighbors had fixed their plates with lobsters, fruit salad and chips.

  Within a minute, Sophie had supplied Ron with a beer and was introducing him. “Everyone, this is Katie’s dad, Ron Wheeler, down from Orlando. Ron, let’s see—there are the Thomasons, there’s Mr. Ted Barlow, a great cribbage player, Susan, Seth and Amy Keogh, Midge and Brandon Holloway.” Brandon rose from the picnic table at the end of the patio to shake hands with Ron. When he sat, Katie saw Drew standing just behind him.

  “You’re Andrew Cunningham,” Ron said, stepping forward, reaching out a hand.

  Katie stared at her father, wondering how he could be such a traitor. But Ron didn’t seem to notice her. “I saw your picture in that magazine just a couple months ago. It was a great article on the art of building.”

  “Thank you,” Drew said.

  “Katie’s been staying with Drew,” Sophie supplied cheerfully.

  “Oh.” Ron said, turning to stare speculatively at his daughter. Katie wondered if he’d heard right—Sophie had said staying, not sleeping.

  “Thanks on behalf of my daughter.”

  “You don’t need to thank him, Dad,” Katie said lightly. “He built my caved-in house. He feels that his is mine at the moment, isn’t that right, Mr. Cunningham?”

  Drew gazed at her before responding to Ron Wheeler smoothly. “I certainly consider it open to anything Katie needs, sir. Will you be staying with us tonight, as well?”