But a part of her was frantically pushing away the strange dark cloud that once again was hovering over her.
“Leave the mess on the table,” Aunt Charity said as the four got to their feet after the meal ended. “Pru and I will tend to it later. I want to open presents.”
“She’s like this every year, Andrea,” Brandon said, chuckling. “She usually harps at me to chew faster so she can get to the gifts. She was on her best behavior during breakfast because you were here.”
“Well, what are Christmas presents for, hotshot,” Aunt Charity said, “if not to be opened? I’m ready to check out my loot.”
They moved into the living room, Andrea and Brandon sitting on the sofa, Aunt Pru and Aunt Charity each settling in their favorite chair.
“Brandon, I put gifts under the tree for Ben, Jennifer, and Joey,” Andrea said.
“They’ll come by to say howdy at some point today,” he said. “It was nice of you to remember them.”
“Ben, Taylor, Jennifer, and Joey are part of our little family,” Aunt Pru said, “which is getting delightfully bigger all the time.”
Meaning what? Andrea wondered. That she was now being considered a member of the family? What a lovely and wonderful thought.
A family.
She hadn’t had a real family since her parents were killed when she was four years old. She could no longer even remember what her mother and father looked like.
A family. For one more week. That was it, the length of time she could wrap the warm sentiment around herself like a comforting blanket.
Then...poof...it would be gone, when she left this special place, to return to where she belonged.
But she’d enjoy the idea of having a family while she was still here.
Andrea shot a quick glance at Brandon.
And, oh, yes, she thought, she would savor the lovemaking shared with Brandon Hamilton during the remainder of her stay in Prescott.
“I suppose you bought out the stores again for Joey,” Brandon said, bringing Andrea from her thoughts.
“Of course,” Aunt Charity said with a sniff. “Christmas is for children, isn’t it?”
Brandon laughed. “And for aunties who like presents as much as kids do.”
“Watch your mouth, big stuff,” Aunt Charity said. “I’m old, and that gives me license to be as eccentric as I please.” She rubbed her hands together. “Brandon, you’re Santa Claus. Pass out the goodies.”
The fun began.
A pile of brightly colored paper and bows started to grow on the floor as the presents were opened, accompanied by the appropriate exclamations of delight, along with heartfelt thank-yous.
Brandon gave the aunts cashmere shawls and lilacscented dusting powder. The aunts had selected a gleaming, leather briefcase for Brandon, and a coffee table book about Prescott for Andrea.
“How lovely,” Andrea said, running her hand gently over the dustcover of the book. “Look, Brandon, they put a picture of the town square in summer on the cover. There’s the courthouse and that charming gazebo.”
“Nice,” he said, nodding. “I bet you don’t see that many trees in bloom in one place in Phoenix.”
“Not very often,” she said, laughing.
“We wanted you to have pictures, memories, of our little town,” Aunt Pru said. “It’s also our way of saying how happy we are that you came here so we could get to know you.”
“Thank you so much,” Andrea said, smiling at them warmly. “I’ll treasure this always.”
“Well, let’s see, here,” Brandon said, reaching for two small gifts. “Here’s one for Aunt Pru from Andrea and one for Aunt Charity.”
The women accepted the presents from Brandon, opened them, then Aunt Pru beamed.
“Perfect,” she said. “Absolutely perfect This tells me that your heart is heading in exactly the direction I was positive it was going.”
“Pardon me?” Andrea said, obviously confused by Aunt Pru’s reaction to the gift.
“Enough said for now on that subject, Pru,” Charity said. “Thank you, Andrea.”
“Yes, thank you, dear,” Aunt Pru said. “More than I can ever begin to say in words.”
“Prudence, hush,” Charity said.
“I’ve missed something, haven’t I?” Andrea said, looking at Brandon. “This is all going right over the top of my head.”
Brandon chuckled. “Well, you gave the aunts little crystal butterflies mounted on stands. It would appear that the butterflies just might be dancing.”
“Dancing?” Andrea said. “I think they’re supposed to look like they’re flying.”
“No,” Brandon said. “They’re definitely...”
“Dancing,” Brandon, Aunt Pru and Aunt Charity said in unison.
“Whatever,” Andrea said, her eyes widening at the trio’s outburst. “Okay, the butterflies are dancing. I’m glad you like them.”
“More important,” Aunt Pru said, “is the fact that you picked them out, dear. You chose the butterflies dancing over all the others.”
“Hush, Prudence,” Charity said again. “Just put a cork in it.”
Still confused, Andrea shook her head slightly, then watched as the aunts opened the music boxes they’d purchased for each other and that she and Brandon had picked up at the store. She hadn’t actually seen the boxes since they’d already been in shopping bags.
“Oh, they’re exactly the same,” she said, smiling. “What a coincidence.”
“No, it isn’t,” Brandon said. “This happens continually. I’ve lost count of how many times they’ve bought the same thing for each other, without having been given one clue beforehand.”
“Fascinating,” Andrea said. “Do you think it happens because you’re twins?”
“We believe it’s because we love each other,” Prudence said, smiling gently.
“Yes,” Andrea said, nodding. “That’s much nicer than some scientific explanation.”
Brandon placed a box on Andrea’s lap, then picked up another that he held at eye level.
“What’s the scoop?” Aunt Charity said.
“These are the presents that Andrea and I bought for each other,” Brandon said.
“Go for it,” Aunt Charity said.
The Christmassy bows and paper were removed, the lids taken from the boxes, then tissue brushed aside. At precisely the same moment, both Andrea and Brandon lifted out their gifts.
Andrea gasped in surprise.
A wide smile broke across Brandon’s face.
They had given each other the exact same thing.
A perky snowman was encased m a wafer-thin glass ball about the size of an orange. The base of the statue was shining teak wood.
When Andrea tipped the statue over, then back, snow fell in a silvery cascade, like a multitude of tiny, sparkling diamonds, just as it did in Brandon’s.
A warm flush stained Andrea’s cheeks and she kept her gaze riveted on the snowman, while striving to regain her composure.
The same gift, she thought. Just like the aunts had done. They were all looking at her, she just knew they were, because everyone, including herself, was remembering what Aunt Pru had said, that the purchase of matching presents wasn’t a coincidence. It was because of love, deep abiding love.
“Thank you,” Brandon said quietly, tracing one thumb gently across Andrea’s cheek.
She shifted her gaze slowly to meet his, her heart seeming to skip a beat when she saw the warmth and the—what was that?—radiating from Brandon’s dark eyes.
“And I thank...” Andrea started, then stopped speaking as unexpected and very unwelcome tears closed her throat.
“You’re welcome,” Brandon said.
The room, the aunts, the colorful debris on the floor, faded into oblivion as they continued to gaze into each other’s eyes.
The telephone shrilled, breaking the sensuous spell weaving over, around and through Andrea and Brandon. She jerked at the insistent noise, then blinked as the room came back
into focus.
Brandon sat the snow statue carefully on the sofa cushion and got to his feet.
“Now what?” he said, then cleared his throat as he heard the gritty quality of his voice. “I’ve already dealt with the travelers from hell this morning.”
He crossed the room and snatched up the receiver in the middle of the fourth ring.
“Hello?” he said. “Yes, she is here with us... Who?... Hold on a second.” He turned to look at Andrea. “There is a call for you from a Jack Jacobs, who says it’s imperative that he speak with you.”
Andrea nearly jumped to her feet, holding the snow statue in both hands.
“Jack is my boss, the owner and president of Challenge Advertising,” she said, frowning.
“Perhaps he wishes to say Merry Christmas to you, dear,” Aunt Pru said.
“No,” Andrea said, shaking her head. “Jack wouldn’t do that. He’d hardly even remember it was Christmas if it weren’t for the fact that all the employees didn’t show up today at the office. If he’s calling, it definitely has something to do with work.”
“Don’t accept the call,” Brandon said gruffly. “I’ll have Ryan at the front desk tell him you couldn’t be located.”
“No, I have to speak with Jack,” Andrea said.
“Andrea,” Brandon said, “no.”
“I have to, Brandon. It must be important for Jack to have tracked me down at Hamilton House. I didn’t tell him where I was staying in Prescott, just that I was coming up here.”
“Damn it, Andrea,” Brandon said none too quietly. “It’s Christmas Day.”
“Damn it, Brandon,” Andrea said, her eyes flashing as she matched his volume. “I realize that. But I’m going to take that telephone call. My career comes first!”
Ten
The silence that hung over the living room after Andrea’s outburst was so heavy and chilling it was nearly palpable.
“I’m sorry,” she said, pressing one hand to her forehead. “I didn’t mean to shout at you, Brandon, but please understand that I have to take that call. I must speak with Jack.”
She threw up her hands in a helpless gesture.
“Jack has been a widower for many years, you see, and has no children. Challenge Advertising is his baby, his life. It wouldn’t occur to him that telephoning me on Christmas Day would be an imposition, but he’d consider my refusing the call as insubordination.
“I’m accustomed to his quirks. He often calls me in the middle of the night when he has a sudden idea he wants to share.”
Andrea sighed.
“I’m babbling,” she said. “I’m just trying to make you understand why I can’t ignore that call.”
“I understand perfectly,” Brandon said, his voice low and flat. “Your career comes first. You can’t make it any plainer than that, Andrea.”
“But—”
“I’m sure my aunts won’t mind if you go into one of their bedrooms,” Brandon went on. “I’ll have the call put through to here. There are phones by the beds in each of the rooms. Pick one.”
“But... Yes, all right,” Andrea said softly, then looked at the aunts. “I apologize for the intrusion on your Christmas.”
“It is your Christmas, too, dear,” Aunt Pru said gently.
“And I can’t remember when I’ve had such a lovely one,” Andrea said, producing a small smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go into the other room and... Thank you.”
Andrea nearly ran into the first bedroom she saw as she rushed from the living room, wanting to escape from the crackling tension.
She’d glanced quickly at Brandon as she passed him, and noticed the tight set to his jaw, the anger and some other undefinable emotion radiating from his dark eyes.
The telephone next to the bed rang and Andrea picked up the receiver.
“Hello, Jack,” she said, forcing a light, cheery tone into her voice. “Merry Christmas. What is going on in that mighty mind of yours today?”
Brandon walked slowly over to the sofa, sank onto it, then sat back, staring at the ceiling.
“Hell,” he said.
“You’ve got that straight, big boy,” Aunt Charity said. “This situation with Andrea and her career is even worse than I thought.”
She clicked her tongue in disgust.
“Imagine that odious man calling Andrea on Christmas,” she continued. “Not only that, Andrea is supposed to be resting for two full weeks. That little tidbit obviously slipped Jack the Jerk’s mind, too. What a dud.” She paused. “You’ve definitely got- your work cut out for you, hotshot, in spades.”
“I love Andrea,” Brandon said quietly, still staring at the ceiling. “I’m honest-to-goodness, forever and ever, in love for the first time in my life.”
“We’re very aware of that, dear,” Aunt Pru said.
“And we’re so thrilled.”
“Oh, yeah?” Brandon raised his head and looked at her. “I’m glad you’re thrilled, because I’m beginning to think that I’ve made a tremendous mistake.”
“Don’t be silly,” Aunt Pru said. “Andrea is in love with you, just as you are with her. I do believe, however, that she might not realize it yet.”
“Or refuses to acknowledge it,” Aunt Charity said.
“Bingo,” Brandon said, lunging to his feet. He began to pace across the sections of the floor not covered with paper, bows and presents. “It must be nice to have a button to push to shut off emotions that are inconvenient.”
He slouched back onto the sofa.
“You heard what she said. Her career comes first.” Brandon narrowed his eyes. “Yep, that damnable career comes first. Always has, always will. Damn it, that woman stole my heart and I want it back!”
“Shame on you,” Aunt Charity said. “You’re giving up without a fight? What kind of Hamilton are you? Snap out of it, or I’ll smack your butt.”
“Brandon, dear,” Aunt Pru said, “have you actually told Andrea that you’re in love with her? That you wish to marry her?”
“Don’t assume too much, Pru,” Aunt Charity said. “Hot stuff here might have had plans to just shack up with Andrea.”
“Thanks a helluva lot, Aunt Charity,” Brandon said. “Of course, I want to marry Andrea. And, no, Aunt Pru, I haven’t had a chance to sit her down to tell her how I feel and to ask her to become my wife.”
“Well,” Aunt Pru said, folding her hands in her lap and smiling. “That’s the first order of business, isn’t it?”
“What’s the point?” Brandon grumbled.
“Definitely going to smack his butt,” Aunt Charity said, nodding.
“Brandon,” Aunt Pru said. “You must tell her how you feel.”
“Amen to that,” Charity said.
Brandon dragged a hand through his hair. “Maybe you’re right.”
“We’re always right,” Aunt Charity said.
“And I have another full week to convince Andrea of how I feel,” Brandon said.
“Yes, dear,” Prudence said.
“Seven days,” he said.
“And nights,” Aunt Charity said, examining the fingernails of one hand. “Just like last night.”
“What?” Brandon said, his eyes widening.
“Give me a break, big boy,” Aunt Charity said. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you know.”
“Charity, dear,” Prudence said, “I do believe that perhaps you’re overstepping just a teensy, tiny bit.”
“More like a country mile,” Brandon said, glaring at Charity. “Cripe.”
“So sue me,” Aunt Charity said, folding her arms over her breasts.
“Chanty, dear, do be still for a moment, please,” Prudence said. “Brandon, are we in agreement? You’ll speak with Andrea as soon as possible?”
Brandon took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then nodded.
“Yes,” he said.
“Splendid,” Aunt Pru said, beaming.
Brandon closed his eyes, pressed his thumbs against them and tapped his fingertips
against his forehead.
“I don’t believe this,” he said. “I’m thirty-five years old and I’m running to my aunts for advice like a fifteen-year-old adolescent with his first hormoneinduced crush on a cheerleader. It doesn’t do much for my macho ego.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, dear,” Aunt Pru said. “This is the first time you’ve been in love. Age has nothing to do with knowing what is best. I respect you more for being willing to listen to advice.”
“Just don’t blow it,” Aunt Charity said, then paused. “The way I did.”
Brandon dropped his hands from his face and stared at Aunt Charity.
“What?” he said.
“There was a young man,” Aunt Charity said quietly, “who I loved so very, very much. He came courting, but I was being coy, playing hard to get, because it tickled my fancy. I was having too much fun being the center of his attention to settle the matter by telling him how I felt about him.”
“What happened?” Brandon said.
“I intended to accept his proposal of marriage the first time he came home on leave from the war,” Aunt Charity said. “But he didn’t come home. He was killed in action. He never knew that I loved him with all my heart. He never knew.”
“Oh, Aunt Charity,” Brandon said, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t make the mistake I did, sweetheart,” Aunt Charity said. “Tell Andrea that you’re in love with her. Tell her, Brandon.”
Before Brandon could reply, Andrea came back into the living room. Brandon got to his feet and turned to look at her.
“Well, I...um...well,” Andrea said, then wrapped her hands around her elbows.
“Yes?” Brandon said.
“I guess you could say it’s good news and bad news,” she said, attempting to produce a smile that failed to materialize. “The owner of a Chicago company we’ve been trying to get as a client came to Phoenix for Christmas and stayed at Jack’s house. Jack managed to convince the man to let us put together an advertising package for him to review.”
“Go on,” Brandon said, hardly breathing.
“The man agreed, with the stipulation that I head up the team, because he was aware of some of my other projects. It’s a real feather in my cap.”
“Oh,” Brandon said, then for the life of him couldn’t think of another thing to say as a knot twisted painfully in his gut.
Taming Tall, Dark Brandon Page 12
