Misbehaving With The Millionaire. Kimberly Lang

Misbehaving With The Millionaire - Kimberly Lang


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      “Hmm?”

      “You’re not falling asleep, are you?”

      Through her languor, she managed to crack one eye. Will’s half smile and hooded eyes immediately chased her laziness away. “Nope.”

      The smile broadened briefly before his lips captured hers again and he pulled her atop him.

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      GWEN smeared aloe gel over the sunburn coloring her nose and cheeks a bright red. Looked like her ears needed some, too. The burn didn’t hurt—yet—but it would before the night was out. She knew better than to hope it would fade to a tan; her fair skin only burned and peeled. Tanning was for people with better genetic luck.

      From the other room, she heard her sister’s ring tone for the third time in the last hour. Gwen ignored it as she examined the coloring on her neck and arms in the bathroom mirror. Sarah would just have to wait. She’d know something was up the second she heard Gwen’s voice, and Gwen didn’t feel like deconstructing the last twenty-four hours with her sister at the moment.

      Of course, that would assume she knew what to make of the last twenty-four hours. Which she didn’t. Not by a long shot.

      She’d slept late this morning, waking only when Evie returned from swimming and pounded on her door with “Gwen! Are you alive?”

      Gwen had a vague recollection of Will walking her to her own room in the wee hours of the morning. Exhausted and limp-limbed from Will’s lovemaking, she’d crawled under the covers and slept like the dead. Or at least like the dead with very erotic dreams.

      As she forced herself out of bed and crawled into the shower, she’d worried about facing Will in the light of day, worried about how she should act and what she could say. She worried about Evie figuring out how they’d spent the night before.

      But her worrying had been for nothing. Will was friendly, but not overly flirtatious, and Evie, as always, made an excellent buffer. Her chatter made awkward silences impossible, and Gwen surprised herself at the ease she felt these days around both Harrisons.

      So when Will handed her a cup of coffee and asked, “Do you like the Rangers?” she answered honestly and without thinking.

      “I don’t really know much about baseball.”

      Both Will and Evie gaped at her in shock. Will, it seemed, was a huge fan, and had converted Evie. Today would be Evie’s first live game, and Gwen found herself dragged along as both of them tried to indoctrinate her to the sport.

      She’d spent the afternoon at a Rangers game—just not in the HarCorp skybox as she’d assumed. Oh, no. Evie’s first American baseball game had to be spent in the stands, under the searing July sun, so she could get the full experience—hot dogs, popcorn and a huge foam finger to wave.

      And sunburned nose notwithstanding, Gwen had enjoyed it as much as Evie—although for slightly different reasons. She might not be a baseball fan after today, but…

      Gwen stared at the phone as it rang, debating how much longer she could ignore it and how many more times Sarah would try to call.

      “Sorry, Sarah,” she muttered as she turned the phone off. She could call her tomorrow, when Sarah would be at work and have less time for analyzing Gwen’s life.

      Thirsty, Gwen went to the kitchen to get a drink. While she was there, she added sunscreen to the running list Mrs. Gray kept in the pantry. Then, out of curiosity, she peeked into the living room. Will and Evie sat on opposite ends of the couch, both of them tapping away at their laptops.

      Well, everyone defines family time differently, I guess.

      She should probably boot up her laptop and work some, too. Instead she thought about the massive tub in her bathroom. Just what she needed.

      Gwen hit Play on the CD player and sank into the hot water with a sigh. She stayed there, letting the music hypnotize her while she tried to make sense of the wild turn her life had just taken.

      Don’t overanalyze. Don’t overthink. Just take it one day at a time. She’d made her choice, and while she didn’t regret it in the least—far from it—she didn’t know what, if anything, came next.

      She let her thoughts wander from the practical to the fantastical—and even through the possible repercussions—until the water turned too cold for comfort. She was rubbing lotion on her legs when she heard a soft tap at her door.

      Slipping into her fuzzy robe, she glanced at the clock. Ten-thirty. How long had she been in the tub?

      She opened the door, expecting to see Evie. Instead Will leaned against the frame. Her heartbeat accelerated as he grinned at her. A quick glance down the hall confirmed that Evie’s door was closed.

      “I need to talk to you about Evie.”

      Oh. So it was business he was here for, not pleasure. She tamped down the niggles of disappointment as she tugged on her belt, tightening it, and adjusted the collar of her robe. “Is everything all right?”

      “Everything’s fine. I just thought you should know Evie went to bed forty-five minutes ago. She has an early tennis lesson tomorrow.” Will’s hand toyed with the collar of her robe while he spoke. She wished she’d thought to bring a nicer one. This one had been with her since college. Yes, it was comfortable, but it fit like a comfy potato sack and the collar he toyed with was frayed at the edges. Not exactly the evening attire she wanted to be caught wearing by Will. The embroidered cats frolicking along the cuffs and collar didn’t help the look, either.

      Slightly confused and embarrassed, she prompted him. “And…?”

      “And this.” His hand closed around one of the frayed kitties on her collar and pulled her close until she pressed against his chest. Then his mouth closed on hers in a searing kiss.

      That kiss brought every erotic sensation from last night back to the surface in amazing, gasping detail, showing her how faulty her powers of recollection really were.

      In one swift movement, Will had them fully inside her room, and her back was against the door as Will loosened the sash and her robe fell open. She heard Will murmur his appreciation at finding nothing underneath, his words muffled against her skin as he sank to his knees, kissing a path down her torso as he went.

      Gwen’s knees buckled, her fingers first grasping his shoulders for support as Will tasted her, then scoring him with her nails as his tongue quickly sent her over the edge.

      Holding her steady as the ripples ran through her, Will stood and kissed her deeply. Behind her, she heard the lock click into place.

      “Now come to bed.”

      Gwen woke the next morning in a very good mood, but no one was around to share it. Evie had gone to her tennis lesson earlier, Will always left for work around seven-thirty and Mrs. Gray was walking out the door with a pile of what looked like dry cleaning under her arm just as Gwen emerged from her room.

      “Good morning, Miss Gwen. I’ve left you some coffee and rolls in the kitchen. I’m off to get more groceries—Miss Evie seems to have cleaned out the cupboards over the weekend. Can I get you anything? Do you need anything while I’m out?”

      “No, but thanks.” She did need a couple of things, but Gwen couldn’t get used to the idea of Mrs. Gray doing it for her. Not that she should. Unless Letitia could be trained to shop, she’d be doing for herself again anyway in another ten days. This afternoon, while Evie was with her tutors, she’d run her own errands.

      The morning edition of the Tribune sat on the marble countertop next to the coffeepot, along with the Monday edition of Dallas Lifestyles. Normally she’d take the time to flip through both over coffee, but she’d slept so late she really needed to get some work accomplished first.

      Gwen poured herself a cup of the fragrant coffee blend Will preferred, grabbed a still-warm cinnamon


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