Everything was under control.
Brandon headed for his apartment to shower and change for the festive event. He stepped out of the elevator on the fifth floor and walked slowly down the hallway, feeling suddenly exhausted.
He stopped in front of the door to Andrea’s room and narrowed his eyes.
At that moment, he thought, he’d sell his soul for superhuman powers, particularly the ability to see through the wooden panel and be able to decipher the secrets in Andrea’s mind...and heart.
“Cripe,” he said, starting off again. “I’m totally losing it.”
If he actually possessed those powers, he thought as he entered his apartment, he’d do well to discover what was going on in his own mind and heart first.
Andrea hummed along with the Christmas carols playing on the radio as she completed her makeup.
She’d taken a long, leisurely bubble bath, then shampooed and blow-dried her hair until it shone. She moved her head, pleased with the way her shiny hair swung then settled back into perfect place.
A touch of lipstick...
There, she thought. She was ready. All she had to do was put on her pretty new dress, slip into her heels, and she’d be prepared for Brandon to arrive to escort her to the party.
She settled on the side of the bed and smiled.
She felt wonderful...young, carefree, happy and... wonderful. She was about to attend a festive event with an extremely handsome man, and she fully intended to have a fabulous time.
“Remember, Andrea,” she said, pointing one finger in the air, “don’t think. Whatever you do, don’t think.”
Nope, during the party nary a one of the complicated, confusing thoughts would be allowed to creep forward from the back of her mind where she’d firmly pushed them.
Andrea frowned.
But what about after the party, when she and Brandon returned to the fifth floor, walked down the hallway and—
“No, no,” she said, waving her hands in the air. “Erase that. Forget it.”
She had no idea how she might behave when Brandon brought her back to her door. There was no sense in dwelling on it now. When the time came, she would simply do what felt truly right.
Brandon barked an earthy expletive, then added another for good measure as he yanked on one end of his tie.
Weeks before, he’d made the decision to wear his custom-tailored tuxedo to the employees’ Christmas party. It was a way of showing his staff that they were first-class and meant enough to him that he would dress to the nines on their behalf.
But he was so edgy about spending the coming hours with Andrea that he had been transformed into Mr. Fumble Fingers. He could not, for the life of him, tie his damn tie.
“One...more...time,” he said, the words measured and terse.
He flipped the silky strips this way, then that, tugged gently on the loops, then swore again when he saw the results of his efforts in the mirror.
“Great,” he said dryly.
It was a smooth, even bow, as it should be. The problem was, it was lying between the edges of his collar vertically instead of horizontally.
“Forget it,” he said, pulling it loose.
He could, he knew, ask one of the aunts to tie the blasted thing.
However, he was definitely in no mood to hear any more from the dear old ladies regarding the picture in the newspaper.
No, thank you, he’d pass. He wasn’t going anywhere near Aunt Pru and Aunt Charity until they were a part of the crowd at the party.
So, that left asking Andrea to fix the crummy tie.
Brandon shrugged into his tuxedo jacket. Maybe the uncooperative tie was a blessing in disguise, he mused. To tend to it, Andrea would have to stand very close to him, would no doubt look up at him at some point in the procedure. That would allow him to look directly into her big, dark eyes and attempt to see the message everyone but him was capable of deciphering.
Good, he thought, smoothing the lapels of the jacket. As of now, he was on full alert, prepared to pick up on every signal from Andrea that would give him a hint as to the true depths of her feelings for him.
He was a man with a mission.
Not only would he determine by the end of this night what Andrea’s emotions were in regard to him, he would also figure out how deeply he cared for her.
Man, oh, man, no wonder he was a wired wreck.
Brandon sucked in a breath, let it out slowly, then squared his shoulders and left the apartment. Much too soon to suit his beleaguered mind he was knocking on Andrea’s door.
Andrea jerked at the sound of the brisk rap on the door, then took a steadying breath.
Prince Charming had arrived, she thought rather giddily, and she, Cinderella, was about to go to the ball. Fine. She was ready. She was calm, cool and collected. She was simply going to enjoy.
She crossed the room and opened the door.
“Hello, Brandon,” she said, smiling.
Oh, my goodness, she thought, look at him. He was wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo, and he was so gorgeous he was stealing the very breath from her body. He was so tall, his shoulders so wide, his hair so thick and dark. His features appeared even more rugged above the fancy dress shirt. Magnificent.
“Come in,” she said.
He couldn’t “come in,” Brandon thought, because he couldn’t move! The directive from his brain to his feet was being short-circuited by the explosion of heated, coiling desire within him as he looked at the vision of loveliness standing before him.
Andrea’s dress was a floor-length, red satin number with tiny straps—very tiny—holding it in place across her bare shoulders. It clung—oh, Lord, how it clung—to her slender figure, her breasts, her...
“Brandon?”
“What?” he said, shaking his head slightly. “Oh. Come in. Yes, I’ll do that. Right now.” He stepped into the room and Andrea closed the door. “Tie my tie. I mean, might I prevail upon you to fix my tie, which definitely seems to have a mind of its own?” He paused. “Andrea, you look absolutely beautiful.”
“Thank you. So do you. Your friend at the store where I bought my coat helped me pick out this dress. I’m Cinderella tonight. That makes you Prince Charming. Now, let’s see what I can do with your tie.”
Andrea stepped close to Brandon and began her assignment.
She smelled like soap and flowers, Brandon thought hazily. His hands were tingling with the urge to caress the dewy skin of her bare shoulders. Hands that would be followed by his lips that would—
Knock it off, Hamilton, he admonished himself.
He had to pay full attention to everything that Andrea said and did, in addition to scrutinizing her eyes when the opportunity presented itself.
He thought about her earlier announcement. She was Cinderella? He was Prince Charming? Was that a significant statement? The fairy-tale couple had ended up together, pledging their love for all time. Was this a hint from Andrea about her hopes and dreams for them?
“There,” Andrea said, patting the tie. She looked up at Brandon. “A bow.”
Brandon narrowed his gaze and stared at Andrea intently.
“What’s wrong?” she said, taking a step backward. “You’re looking at me as though I have a bug on my nose.”
“Oh. Sorry,” he said. Nothing. Andrea’s eyes were big, dark and beautiful, but beyond that...nothing. There was no neon sign flashing in them, telling him. what he needed to know. “Shall we go?”
“All right,” she said. “I just need to get my purse. I’m looking forward to this evening so very much.”
Why? Brandon thought. What part of the event was Andrea anticipating with such excitement ringing in her voice? The buffet dinner? The music? The dancing? Seeing Ben?
Ben Rizzoli had better show up at the party with a date in tow, he thought, because Andrea Cunningham was with Brandon Hamilton tonight, by damn.
Cripe, Brandon thought. At this rate he was going to be a babbling idiot within the hour. He’d really
prefer to turn off his mind and just enjoy Andrea’s company. But he couldn’t do that. Too much was at stake. The evening ahead was far too important.
Stay alert, Hamilton, he told himself as he and Andrea left the room.
In the hallway, Brandon shot a quick glance in the direction of the aunts’ apartment door, hoping to the heavens that they wouldn’t suddenly appear and pounce on him. He hustled Andrea into the elevator and pressed the proper button with more force than was necessary.
“Are you tense about this party, Brandon?” Andrea said as the elevator doors swished closed. “You seem rather uptight.”
“I do? Well, I... Well, yes, the party. I want everything to go smoothly. The staff of Hamilton House deserves the best that I can offer.”
“I’m sure it will be perfect,” she said pleasantly. “You give everything you do your total effort and dedication.” Every kiss, every touch, every smile. Oh, my, imagine what it would be like to make love with this man. “I can vouch for that.”
“You can?” he said, looking down at her.
“Certainly,” she said, smiling. “I was there when you gave your all to building the snowman on the square, remember? Our Frosty definitely received total dedication and concentration.”
Brandon laughed and Andrea joined him, the merry sound filling the elevator to overflowing and following them into the lobby, where the lovely piano music was being played with expertise.
With almost everyone on the staff having brought someone special to the party, the conference room soon held close to a hundred and fifty people dressed in their finery. The atmosphere was crackling with excitement and good cheer, the noise level high.
Plates were heaped with delicious food, and Brandon and Andrea found places to sit at a table with Aunt Pru, Aunt Charity, Jennifer and Ben. Neither Ben nor Jennifer had an escort with them.
“Why don’t you have a date?” Brandon said to Ben, speaking close to Ben’s ear so no one else could hear the question.
Ben shrugged. “I just never got around to asking anyone to attend this shindig with me.”
“Who do you plan to dance with?” Brandon said, frowning.
“I don’t know,” Ben said. “The aunties, Jennifer... Andrea.”
“Mmm,” Brandon said, glaring at him.
Ben laughed and shook his head. “You’re a goner,
Hamilton. Why don’t you just admit it? You’re a very lucky man, you know.”
“I’m not having this discussion,” Brandon said.
“Eat your dinner.”
Ben chuckled, then directed his attention to Andrea. “Ms. Cunningham,” he said. “You look lovely this evening, if I may be so bold as to say so.”
“Thank you, Dr. Rizzoli,” she said, smiling and dipping her head slightly.
“As do you, Jennifer,” Ben went on. “And you,
Aunt Pru, Aunt Charity.”
“Thank you, dear,” Aunt Pru said.
“What about me?” Brandon said. “Aren’t you going to lay some of that syrupy sweet junk on me, Ben?”
“You look like a penguin,” Ben said.
“But a dashing penguin,” Aunt Pru said.
Everyone laughed, including Brandon, and the mood was set. They consumed their meals with friendly banter.
A short time later, the dishes were whisked away by members of the staff who had volunteered to accomplish the chore while attending the party. The buffet table was removed to allow more space for dancing.
Brandon went to the front of the room and made a short speech, wishing everyone a happy holiday and expressing his gratitude for all of the hard work that had been put in to making Hamilton House a successful endeavor.
Mickey came-forward wearing a bright red Santa Claus hat and assisted Brandon in passing out the gifts from beneath the tree.
Just as Brandon signaled for the lights to be dimmed so the dancing could commence, the woman who was tending to the registration desk rushed in and handed Brandon a slip of paper.
“All right,” Brandon said, after reading the message. “Jerry and his wife have a Christmas Eve baby boy. Seven pounds, six ounces. His name is Nickalaus Gerald.”
A round of applause went up in honor of the new arrival.
“Let the dancing begin,” Brandon said. “Again, Merry Christmas to all of you, and every best in the new year to come.”
The crowd cheered as he made his way back to the table
A Christmas Eve baby, Andrea thought, her gaze riveted on Brandon as he approached. A miracle. A tiny, beautiful baby boy.
What would it be like to hold an infant in her arms, a child created with the man she loved?
If she’d ever yearned for a child in the past, it must have been a fleeting thought as she certainly didn’t remember it.
A baby. Why was she dwelling on the subject now? Was her biological clock picking this moment to start ticking? Or was it because of Brandon Hamilton and her ever-growing feelings for him that she absolutely, positively, refused to address?
Oh, Andrea, please, she thought, stop thinking.
Brandon reached the table and extended a hand to Andrea as the band began to play a waltz.
“May I have this dance, Andrea?” he said, no hint of a smile on his face.
“Yes,” she whispered, then placed her hand in his.
As Andrea and Brandon made their way to the center of the room, Jennifer sighed.
“Oh, this is so romantic,” she said. “Andrea and Brandon are such a marvelous couple, aren’t they? He’s so handsome and she’s so pretty. They look sensational together.”
“Looks won’t mean diddly,” Aunt Charity said, “if they don’t come out of the ether.”
“You’ve got that straight, Aunt Chanty,” Ben said, nodding.
“Wouldn’t you like to have a crystal ball,” Aunt Pru said, “to see what the future will bring?”
“No,” Ben said sharply.
“Ben?” Jennifer said, frowning.
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Aunt Pru. I didn’t mean to be rude. Come on, Jennifer. Let’s dance.”
As Jennifer and Ben left the table, Prudence and Charity exchanged frowning expressions.
“Something is troubling our Ben, Charity,” Pru said.
“Yes, you’re right,” Charity said. “And Jennifer has no business being at a party alone. And Andrea and Brandon are liable to mess up what they might have together. Our young people are all very complicated.”
“Indeed they are,” Prudence said. “Oh, Charity, I do so fear that the butterflies will dance, and no one will see them.”
Eight
Andrea felt as though it was taking an eternity to weave through the tables to reach the dance floor with Brandon.
She was acutely aware of his masculine presence behind her as they made their way forward. He was so tall and strong, enveloping her in a nearly tangible haze of sensuality.
Heat was growing steadily within her, swirling, thrumming, beginning to settle low in her body with a pulsing cadence, as she anticipated the moment when she would step into Brandon’s embrace.
Hurry, her mind and body demanded. They were moving in tormentingly slow motion. Her skin was tingling. Her heart was beating with a wild tempo. Hurry.
The dreamy music of the waltz beckoned.
Brandon curled his hands into tight fists at his sides to keep from reaching out to touch Andrea as she walked in front of him.
Lord, he thought, the distance from their table to the dance floor had turned into the length of an enormous football field. Heat was coiling low in his body, hot, so damn hot, and he could feel a trickle of sweat slithering down his back.
Go faster, Andrea, he mentally directed. Faster.
Then at last, at last, they were there.
Andrea stepped onto the crowded wooden floor, then stopped and turned to meet Brandon’s gaze as he joined her. They stood statue-still, inches apart, not touching.
The room, the people, the chattering noise, faded into oblivion
as a sensuous mist encircled them. There was only the two of them, and the beautiful music.
Brandon lifted his arms slowly and Andrea floated into his welcoming embrace, a soft sigh of pleasure escaping from her lips.
Brandon closed his eyes for a moment to savor the long awaited sensation of Andrea’s slender body nestling against him.
Heat rocketed through him and he welcomed it, feeling vitally alive, powerful and male. Andrea was so delicate, so feminine, her womanly contours complementing his ruggedness to perfection.
They began to sway in time to the waltz.
The song ended, another began, and Andrea and Brandon danced on and on.
“I can’t even remember when I last danced,” Andrea said finally. “I apologize in advance in case I step on your toes.”
“I doubt that you will,” Brandon said. “I think dancing is one of those things you don’t forget how to do, just like...”
“Riding a bicycle,” they said in unison.
Andrea tipped her head back to smile up at Brandon.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“For what?”
“Tonight, this very special night. I’m having a wonderful time.” Andrea’s smile faded. “We’re making more memories for me to tuck away in the treasure chest in my heart.”
Brandon nodded. “Yes, we are. I like the way you put it...the treasure chest in your heart. That’s nice, very nice.”
“Mmm,” she said, then cradled her head on Brandon’s shoulder again. “It’s hard to believe I’ve only been in Prescott a week. So much has happened since I wobbled through the doors of Hamilton House and fainted dead away.”
“That’s true,” Brandon said. “A great deal has taken place.”
But what was Andrea referring to? he wondered. During the week had she fallen in love? With him?
Was Andrea scrutinizing her life, contemplating what it might be like to stay in Prescott by his side, as his wife?
No, she wouldn’t allow herself to have such fantasies, based on unknowns. She had no idea how he felt about her. She wouldn’t envision a forever with him without being assured of his love for her.
Taming Tall, Dark Brandon Page 9
