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
