Kimberly Lang

The Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress


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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 them to the growing pile. Will Harrison might be the biggest client she’d signed on, but she still had to take care of the others.

      “Well, maybe your lessons with his sister will rub off on him.”

      Gwen responded with an unladylike, but noncommittal “humph” as she dragged her suitcase down the hallway. “One more thing. Can you look after Letitia for a while?”

      “Sure, Gwennie. Why?”

      “This is where your discretion comes in. I’m going to be living with the Harrisons for the next couple of weeks.” Gwen held the phone away from her ear in expectation of her sister’s reaction.

      “You’re what?” Even with the phone several inches away, she clearly heard every one of the dozen rapid-fire questions delivered at the top of her sister’s voice.

      “Calm down. Good Lord, you sound exactly like Mother when you do that.”

      “That’s uncalled for.”

      “Well, if the shoe fits…”

      “You do understand that if that columnist from Dallas Lifestyles gets wind of this, she’ll have a field day with you.”

      “There’s nothing nefarious going on. I’m moving into the guest bedroom so I’ll have total access to Evie. If my over-developed sense of propriety can handle it, so can yours.” She consulted her list one last time. Surely she had everything she needed. It wasn’t like she was going to Siberia or anything. “Since when do you care what people think anyway?”

      Sarah sighed. “That’s my point. I don’t, but you need to. Let me remind you that the majority of your clientele is hugely conservative. Proper debutante trainers don’t live with men they aren’t related to.”

      “I know, I know. This is why you need to keep your mouth shut. Should anyone find out—”

      “And you know they will, Gwennie. Will Harrison is one of that Hulme woman’s favorite subjects for her column. Do you honestly think you can move in to his house and no one will notice?”

      It was Gwen’s turn to sigh. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. This is a business arrangement, nothing more. No one would question it if he’d hired a live-in housekeeper. This isn’t any different.”

      “I’d keep practicing that statement, if I were you. I think you’re going to need it.”

      “There’s no need to sound so dire. It’s not like there’s paparazzi staking out his building or anything. If I just lie low and not call attention to myself, this should stay under the radar.”

      “Good