The Bachelor Takes A Wife. Jackie Merritt
Читать онлайн книгу.
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