Misbehaving with the Millionaire: The Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress. Kimberly Lang
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Her broken heart had mended quickly thanks to the anger at being used, but it had taken a lot longer to get over the shame of it, and the five years she’d spent in Dallas building a spotless reputation had given her new perspective on the whole sordid affair. She knew better now.
Then why had she ended up in Will’s arms, practically begging him to take her off to bed with him? She needed to be careful. Even if her heart could take another hit, her career certainly couldn’t.
Sleep was a long time coming.
Cold showers always worked like magic in movies and books. But the characters in movies and books obviously hadn’t been kissing Gwen, because the longest, coldest shower in the universe hadn’t removed the lingering imprint of Gwen’s body from his or chased away the haunting scent of her skin.
Will toweled off, scrubbing at the chill bumps on his skin, and tried to think of something other than the feel of Gwen’s tongue sliding over his like a promise.
The fact he’d practically mauled her in the hallway popped to mind, followed closely by the realization that he’d have no one to blame but himself if Gwen packed up her tea set and moved out first thing in the morning. He hadn’t intended for the kiss to go that far, that quickly. He just hadn’t been prepared for the desire that had slammed into him at the taste of her.
Still…if she hadn’t brought him to his senses when she did, he’d still be happily pawing her in his foyer. Or maybe they’d have made it as far as his room by now.
Gwen felt the attraction between them. That much he knew. She’d been an active and willing participant in that kiss, even if she was probably flogging herself with the inappropriateness of it by now.
Provided Gwen didn’t hightail it out of here tomorrow at the crack of dawn, he’d start changing her mind about what constituted “appropriate.”
That should prove interesting.
His body still wanted to knock on Miss Behavior’s door and, well, misbehave, but it was under control enough for him to crawl under the covers and contemplate his next move instead. It wasn’t often that Fate delivered an interesting, attractive woman to his door like a belated birthday present, and he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.
Vague notions he should use the late-night quiet to break out his laptop and work for a while intruded briefly, but, for once, he was completely uninterested in HarCorp and business problems. He chuckled. There was a first time for everything.
His plans for Gwen were much more interesting to think about. In no time at all, he found himself in need of another cold shower.
CHAPTER SEVEN
GOING back to her regular life in two weeks was going to suck. Gwen sat beside the rooftop pool of Will’s condo building—a private pool only for use by the residents of the top three floors—and tried to read and relax.
A striped cabana shaded her from the sun, and as she leaned back against matching pillows with a cold drink, she half expected a cabana boy to show up with a bottle of suntan oil and offer to rub some on her.
Evie lay on her stomach in the sun beside the cabana, her feet moving slightly in rhythm to the music on her iPod as she conjugated a series of irregular French verbs. A Geometry text topped a pile of books next to her. Yesterday’s shopping, dinner, and movie extravaganza must have put her behind on her homework. One of the etiquette books stuck out at an awkward angle from her pile as well; a ribboned bookmark indicated Evie was about halfway finished.
Fluffy white clouds spotted an otherwise clear blue sky, and a breeze fluttered the pages of the book in her lap. By all definitions, it was a perfect day. She would be relaxed and lost in her book by now if not for the constant sound of splashes coming from the pool.
The noise wasn’t what was disturbing her. The cause of the splashes was. If she lifted her eyes from her book she wasn’t actually reading, she’d see the pool and the powerful body making lap after lap. Will moved through the water like a pro, each stroke strong and sure. The sight of the water sliding over his body sent her mind back to the thought of Will in the shower the night before, which immediately sent her thoughts back to the kiss in the foyer.
Not that she needed much help remembering that kiss. The feel of Will was branded into her skin. She could still taste him on her lips. What little sleep she’d managed last night had only allowed her mind to carry that kiss to erotic extremes in her dreams.
After such a restless night, she crawled out of bed early to head to Sarah’s house for coffee and a visit with Letitia. The spoiled cat curled into her lap purring and refused to move, keeping her pinned in the chair and under her sister’s inquisition much longer than comfortable. How Sarah had been able to tell Gwen had been thoroughly kissed, she’d never know, but Sarah wouldn’t rest until every last embarrassing detail was dissected to her satisfaction.
Yet Gwen still didn’t have any concrete answers—not for why she’d kissed Will, not for what she wanted to happen next, nothing. After two hours and two pots of coffee, she’d finally been able to escape her sister—who really wasn’t helping the situation at all—and headed back to what was beginning to feel like the lion’s den.
Gwen hadn’t thought to ask about how Evie and Will spent their weekends, and she’d returned to the condo to find them headed to the pool. Against her better judgment, she allowed them to convince her to join them. She regretted the decision instantly after Will stripped down to nothing but a pair of black swim trunks. Thankfully her sunglasses hid the unladylike and unflattering way her eyes had to have bugged at the sight of all that bronze skin and hard muscle. She’d run to the safety of the cabana immediately, very glad when Will dove straight into the water instead of taking the other lounge chair.
Now Evie was engrossed with homework, and she was having a hard time pulling her eyes away from Will.
It’s rude to stare. But next to impossible not to, she told herself. She lost count of how many laps he completed long ago, but he showed no signs of tiring. That explained the tan. And the shoulders. And the chest… She reached for her water bottle, rolling it across the heated skin of her neck and chest before taking a long drink to try to lower her temperature. With a sigh, she tried to concentrate on the words in her book, thankful neither Evie nor Will were paying her any attention at all.
Water splashed at her feet, and she looked up to see Will, all wet and wonderful, standing in the shallow end of the pool, ready to send another stream of water at Evie.
“Hey!” Evie shouted, “You’re getting my homework all wet.”
“Aren’t you two coming in?” Water dripped from his dark hair onto his shoulders before joining the rivulets running down his chest and over the muscles