The Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress. Kimberly Lang

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      He expected the money to throw her off-guard. It was much more than such services could possibly cost, but it would assure she’d give Evie her full attention and keep her mouth closed to Tish Cotter-Hulme, the local society gossip columnist.

      Gwen regained her balance much more quickly this time, covering her discomfort with cool politeness. Nice trick. Hopefully she could teach it to Evie.

      “I couldn’t possibly move into your home.”

      “Are you married?” He glanced down to where her fingers laced together in her lap. The white knuckles gave away her agitation as clearly as her eyes did, but from his position, he couldn’t see if she wore a ring or not.

      “Excuse me?” Her eyebrows flew toward her hairline in shock, and a flush stained her cheeks.

      “Are you married? Do you have children or something?” Gwen took a deep breath before answering, and he realized he was a little too interested in her response.

      “No, but—”

      “Good.” He let out the breath he’d been holding. “I understand the request is a bit odd—” Gwen gave him a wonderful “you think?” look that would have been funny in a different situation, so he forged ahead before she could mount a stronger rejection of his offer. “But Evie’s still recovering from her mother’s death. She’s a little fragile at times and having a hard time adjusting. She needs someone who can give her undivided attention. It would be easier on her to have you there full-time.”

      He could see Gwen softening.

      She played with the pearls at her neck, calling his attention to the flush rising from the collar of her blouse. “I guess I could—”

      “Excellent.”

      Gwen took a deep breath, and her hand fell back to her lap. When she spoke, that cool professionalism was back. In a way he was disappointed; a slightly rattled Gwen was much more interesting.

      “I’ll prepare a contract and fax it to your secretary this afternoon.”

      “And I have a nondisclosure agreement that will require your signature as well. I don’t want Evie embarrassed or details of my private life shared with the papers.”

      “Of course. I understand completely.” She stood, and he rose to his feet. Although he topped her by a good seven inches, she pushed her shoulders back and looked him squarely in the eye for the first time since he’d rattled her with his unorthodox proposal. “I’ll gather my things and be at your home tonight around six-thirty or so. Will that be acceptable?”

      Her words caused a smile. He didn’t know much about etiquette, but Miss Sawyer would make one hell of an executive if she put her mind to it. He was looking forward to seeing her in action with Evie.

      “That’ll be fine. I’ll tell Mrs. Gray to serve dinner around seven.”

      She offered her hand. “I’ll see you then. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Harrison.”

      “Call me Will.”

      “And I’m Gwen. I’ll see you tonight.”

      With another of those cool, polite smiles, Gwen Sawyer showed herself to the door, allowing him the opportunity to observe what he’d missed earlier by being on the phone when she arrived. Long legs. Nice curves almost camouflaged by a conservative suit. A graceful and unhurried walk.

      Hopefully Evie would take to her.

      He couldn’t help but think back to the evening two nights ago. After Marcus left, he’d found Evie on the stairs, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. Evie took after Rachel with her auburn hair and high cheekbones, but she had her father’s—their father’s—eyes. Unsure how to handle a teary teenager, he’d joined her on the steps but said nothing.

      Evie broke the silence first. “I’m sorry I’m such an embarrassment to you.”

      She must have overhead Marcus’s comments. “You’re not an embarrassment. You just don’t know what it’s like here.” He patted her shoulder, feeling awkward as he did. He was still new to this big brother thing.

      “I’m willing to learn, Will. I promise I’ll work really hard.” She swallowed hard as the tears overflowed. “Please don’t send me away.”

      “Away?”

      “To boarding school. I heard Uncle Marcus mention it last week. I don’t want to go. Please, Will.”

      Guilt at even considering Marcus’s suggestion nagged at him. “You’re not going to boarding school. You’re a Harrison, and this is where you belong.”

      Evie’s tear-streaked face split into a wide grin as she launched herself into his arms.

      Parenting a teenager still had him confused, but he’d bridged a gap that night with Evie. He barely knew her—partly due to the difference in their ages and partly because he’d simply been too busy to concern himself with a child several thousand miles away. But they were getting to know each other now and coming to an agreeable living arrangement.

      He was getting the hang of this after all. With the addition of Gwen Sawyer to the team, his life could start working itself back to normal.

      And, just to be sure, he’d be home for Gwen’s arrival tonight.

      CHAPTER TWO

      “YOU are kidding me, right? The Will Harrison hired you? I didn’t even know he had a sister.”

      “That’s because you don’t read the society section closely enough. And don’t sound so surprised. As I’ve been reminded more than once recently, social training is what I do for a living.” Gwen balanced the phone on her shoulder as she loaded her laptop into its case.

      Sarah went into Sister Support Mode. “Temporarily, Gwennie, temporarily. Even if the kid eats with her feet, you’ll turn her into Jackie O in no time. Then, big brother will have to listen to what you can do for his company.”

      “I can hope.” Gwen consulted her list. Laptop. Dinner kit. Tea kit. Etiquette books for her new client. Her suitcase. Check, check, check and check.

      The increase in background noise meant her sister was no longer alone. Hastily she added, “Listen, you can’t tell anyone about this. ‘My discretion is essential,’ remember?”

      “Ich verstehe.” Sarah switched to German, a tactic they’d used for years when they didn’t want others to understand their conversation. “Is he as handsome as his pictures?”

      Better than his pictures. Yummy, actually. “Oh, grow up, Sarah.”

      “He’s Dallas’s Most Eligible Bachelor, you know.”

      “One of them, at least,” she hedged.

      “Seriously, what’s he like?”

      “Busy. A bit brusque. In need of one of my refresher classes.” Gwen grabbed her address book and current client files and added

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