Love Undercover

by Miley Maine

  Instead of the dinner I’d expected, I’d gotten Owen. Even now that I was washing the fruit off of Gabriel’s face during his bath, I wanted to sneak back downstairs and stare at him.

  As my little sister would say, he was seriously smoking hot. His sandy hair was short, and he’d had just the tiniest bit of stubble covering his strong jaw. His blue eyes were sharp and assessing. He was older than I was, maybe even by ten years. But that only made him hotter.

  There were plenty of guys at the University who were hot. There weren’t many of the stereotypical frat boys in my social work classes, but there were some really good-looking athletes. There were also a few of the nerdy types that were just as hot, and I had a World Civilization class with an engineer who could have been on the cover of a magazine.

  But not one of them compared to Owen. He was handsome, in a manly way. His easy posture spoke of experience, and his banter with me had been fun, without being overbearing.

  His shoulders were broad, and his perfectly-tailored tux fit just right. He’d done that gentlemanly thing men do in this high-class world, where they stand as a lady gets up from the table. I’d never even heard of that until I moved down here.

  Of course, back home, I’d argue that men and women should be treated equally, and that if a woman wouldn’t stand up when a man left the table, then he shouldn’t stand if a woman did. However, I could admit that his attention had felt good. I’d liked his eyes on me.

  Even now, twenty minutes later, my skin buzzed with the warmth from our brief interaction. I’d had the strongest urge to just get closer to him. It was a good thing Gabriel had cried before I embarrassed myself. As it was, my cheeks were flaming from the instant I’d seen him seated across from my spot.

  Good Lord, Kate, pull yourself together. You’re swooning! You’ve never been distracted over a boy, not once, so don’t start now!

  Although… Owen was no boy, that much was obvious.

  I put my hand over my mouth to suppress a laugh. Am I losing my mind?

  I wrapped Gabriel in a towel and got him ready for bed. I’d just gotten him to sleep when the door to his room opened. Mrs. Laurent waved for me to join her in the hallway.

  “Good, Kate, I am glad you still have your dress on.”

  I’d tossed the heels aside, but I hadn’t taken time to shed the red party dress.

  “I want you to return to the party. Amelia has agreed to listen for Gabriel if he wakes up.”

  “Oh, I’d hate to interrupt,” I said. She wants me back downstairs? Why does she care where I am if Gabriel is asleep?

  “Your absence has left a gap at the table. I noticed Mr. Baxley, who works for my husband, is now quite without companionship at the table. Would you be willing to return?”

  My stomach spun. I’d thought I was done for the night, and I’d let myself relax. Now I was expected to go back downstairs and be capable of carrying on a conversation.

  She leaned in. “I think he likes you,” she whispered.

  That made my stomach swirl even faster. There was no way Owen was interested in me. He was older, and so self-assured. There was no way we were compatible.

  I could refuse; I knew that. She wouldn’t force me to go, if I really didn’t want to. I took a deep breath, but before I could make up an excuse, Mrs. Laurent’s cool hand landed on my arm.

  “You look terrified, my dear,” she said, peering into my eyes. “Do you feel unwell? If so, we should put you to bed right away.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to get my stomach to settle. I’d totally freaked over nothing. She was trying to play matchmaker. It was probably entertaining to her, in a harmless way, just like dressing me up and having my hair and makeup done. She was probably bored.

  “No,” I said. I figured I might as well be honest. “I’m just nervous about being at your party, and saying the wrong thing.”

  She touched my shoulder. “We all feel that way. Come back with me. It will be a good practice for your future.”

  She wasn’t wrong about that. Learning to walk confidently into a room and sit amongst strangers while eating and making conversation was a skill that would serve anyone well. I’d always had a quiet personality, and I’d always been a straight-laced rule follower. But back home, I didn’t hesitate to meet people. At school, and in my internships, I spoke with professors, and therapists, and clinicians, without hesitating or second-guessing myself. I even asserted myself quite frequently, with the parents of the kids I was working with.

  But here in Chile I was more timid. I guessed there was still some part of me that saw myself as the poor kid, the one who had free lunches provided and wore clothes from the donation closet at school. I wasn’t alone though; most of my town had been poor. I’d never spent much time around middle-class people until college.

  That was the first time I’d felt out of place. Not amongst the rich people, but amongst those who were considered normal. My classmates in college talked about ski trips and spa days and theme parks. I’d never had any of that.

  But I’d dealt with all of that, and I’d gone on to earn my social work degree. So there was no reason I couldn’t be assertive here too. There was no reason for me to be intimidated by people who were wealthier than I was. I took a deep breath.

  I was going back downstairs. “Okay,” I said. “Let me get my shoes.”

  Her half-smile showed up. I could tell she was pleased. “Wonderful,” she said. “I think you have made the right choice.”

  All of my mustered-up courage stayed with me until the moment I saw Owen again. The first time I’d walked into the dining room earlier tonight, I’d been so fixated on not crashing to the floor while walking in my heels, especially since I was carrying Gabriel, that I hadn’t noticed Owen at first.

  Then I had to get Gabriel in his high chair and do all the things necessary to occupy a baby at a table. While the butler was pulling my chair out, I’d noticed a man seated across from me. Then boom.

  Now I was back, and again, the butler insisted on following me in and pulling my chair out. This time I knew what to expect. My mouth went dry.

  I sat down and pulled my fresh napkin into my lap. Owen’s eyes were on me, I could feel his laser focus while he stared at me. Okay. I can do this. I wasn’t a kid at a grown-ups’ table, I was an adult, just like everyone else here was.

  I lifted my eyes. His stare was an electric jolt that surged straight through my body. My chest felt a little tight, and my entire body flushed. Is this arousal? Had I gone my whole life and never really felt it before?

  I had refused to date in high school. So many of the women in my town got pregnant in high school, and lived the same life their parents had. I wasn’t going to take that chance. In college, I dated, but only a little. I usually ended any budding relationship around the third date. The guys were nice, but I felt nothing but friendship for any of them.

  This was something far different.

  I’d always thought other women were pretending when they talked about how they reacted to men. I’d listened sympathetically over the years to each and every one of my friends, and even my sister, as they lamented how a gorgeous guy had failed to notice them. It had all seemed so silly to me, even though I’d worked hard to never let my reaction show.

  Now, maybe I could understand what they’d felt.

  “I’m glad you returned,” he said to me.

  “Me too,” I responded, making sure to push my shoulders back so I didn’t slouch.

  “So,” he said, in that deep voice, “you never got to tell me how you know the Laurents.”

  “I met them not long ago. I just graduated from college in May of this year,” I said.

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. This spring, I was in my senior year of college, and I was starting my final internship required for graduation. I mentioned to my supervising professor that I’d never been able to travel, and I’d never left the state of Alabama. I think he was horrified, but of course he didn�
�t say so. I told him I was concerned about my ability to relate to clients if I was so naïve about people from anywhere but my small area.”

  “That sounds like a valid concern.”

  “He thought so, too,” I said. “And I told him that I wanted to travel for personal reasons, too.”

  “So he knew Mr. Laurent?” Owen asked.

  “Yes. My professor is on the board of the Children’s Hospital in Alabama, where Mr. Laurent is a large donor. And he said he knew someone looking for a nanny who would speak English to their child, and there would be travel included in the job.”

  A quick frown passed over Owen’s face, then it was gone. No one would frown about someone donating money to a hospital.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “No. That’s very kind of Mr. Laurent,” Owen said. “He’s a generous philanthropist.” He still had an odd look on his face.

  “Oh. I guess you’d know about his donations, since you’re the corporate accountant.

  He smiled at me. “I’m afraid I can’t discuss the details, but I bet Mr. Laurent would be happy to donate to your college if you ask.”

  “He said he would. And he’s already agreed to pay for my Master’s degree, even though I won’t be working for him then.”

  “Master’s degree?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’ve already been accepted into the Master’s program for Social Work, but the school allowed me to defer for a year, so I could accept this position.” I had been talking about myself for a really long time. I didn’t mind, but I wanted to know more about Owen. “I wanted to practice my Spanish too. Being fluent will help me find a job once I graduate with my Master’s degree.”

  “I can’t imagine you’ll have any problems finding a job,” Owen said.

  “Well, thank you.”

  “I’m serious. You were very devoted to the baby, and never annoyed by him. I’ve seen parents doing much worse.”

  My own parents had done far worse, but there was no way I was going to let that slip out.

  “Parents don’t get a break,” I said.

  “So, do you have a day off?”

  “I do. I’m off every Monday.” I thanked the chef as he presented me with a beautiful chocolate mousse, which smelled amazing. I was determined to change the subject from me to him. “You said you were from California. So how long have you lived here in Santiago?”

  “A year,” he said. “I was working for a big investment firm in San Francisco, and the cost of living just got higher and higher. A friend told me to visit South America. He said the scenery was great, and the people were friendly, and the cost of living isn’t as crazy as California.”

  “Have you been to other places in South America?”

  “Yes. I’ve been to most of the countries.”

  “I’m so jealous. Which is your favorite?”

  “Santiago is pretty nice. But Rio de Janeiro in Brazil is unlike any other place in the world. I highly recommend it, and even if you don’t speak Portuguese, you’ll pick it up while you’re there.”

  “I would love to go,” I said.

  “Maybe I can give you the tour someday.”

  “That would be amazing,” I responded, knowing he was only flirting with me. It wasn’t like I’d go to another country with a stranger. But he wasn’t really a stranger, not if he worked for the Laurents.

  He gave me that sexy smile again, right before Amelia showed up to say that Gabriel had woken, and he wasn’t happy to see her.

  “Excuse me,” I said to him. “It was so nice to see you a second time tonight.”

  He stood, just like he had before, but this time he took my hand in his and kissed the back of it.

  “You made this dinner exponentially better just by being here. Thank you.”

  My heart thundered, just feeling his large hand on mine. This was not any ordinary handshake. It was much more than that, and I didn’t know how to handle it.

  I licked my lips and looked up at him. He was tall, at least six-foot-two, and he smelled so good, not in an overpowering too-much-cologne way, but like fresh sandalwood soap.

  I took a deep breath, and he held onto my hand for another moment.

  “Good night, Kate. I look forward to seeing you again,” he said.

  I blinked a few times. “You too,” I managed to squeak out, and then I fled, glad to have a reason to rush.

  I’d probably never see Owen again, which was a blessing because this kind of distraction was not tenable for me. I supposed if everyone else learned to live with this kind of chaos in their brain, then I would have to learn too.

  As I reached the hallway to go upstairs, I glanced back a final time, in case this was the last time I ever saw Owen.

  He was sipping his wine, and he was staring straight at me.

  Chapter Five

  Owen

  Now that Kate had left, I drank my merlot and let myself refocus on the activity around me. The dinner was winding down, and the man next to me engaged me in conversation. He was the grandson of the man who’d founded one of the major copper mines in Chile. Unless I’d read him completely wrong, he was guileless, obsessed with himself, and only interested in talking about his large game-hunting trips. He was not the kind of person Laurent would ever trust beyond a casual friendship.

  On a happier note, I was going to ask Kate out. She was captivating, and I wanted her in a way I’d never wanted a woman. There was something sheltered about her, her innocence, even though she was educated. I wanted her in my arms. I wanted to feel her bare skin against mine.

  And yes, I had ulterior motives. It was sinister, but that was part of the job. And the job came first, no matter what. I’d vowed to protect the USA at any cost, and that was what I would do.

  The only obstacle was Laurent. How would he feel about his accountant getting friendly with his nanny? I knew one thing, he had better keep his damn hands off of her. Unless she was a better liar than I’d thought, she’d had genuine respect for Laurent and his vacant-eyed wife.

  I’d have to talk to him about dating Kate. If he objected, then I’d have a problem. As the party wound down, and the guests got up to chat and mingle, they herded us once again to another room. This one they called the parlour.

  Give me a break. This wasn’t eighteenth-century England. The pretentiousness of these people was exhausting. But I put on my best face. Most of the training at The Farm had been something I’d excelled at, except keeping my face blank. The other people in my group had learned to control their expressions much faster. Mine tended to show right away, but over the years, I’d gotten pretty good at it. I’d had to, to survive, especially around street thugs and drug dealers.

  I made my way through the guests, trying to pinpoint and understand why each one was there. Most were vapid and useless, although there was one man that piqued my interest.

  He was a professor at the University of Chile in Santiago, and he taught biochemistry and pharmacy.

  Interesting. Unless they were from fabulously wealthy families, scholars didn’t generally hang out with Laurent’s crowd, so I made sure to get his name. I’d be adding his name to my growing list of people to investigate.

  I’d made note of the professor Kate mentioned. Why would a social work professor be in contact with Laurent? I’d be finding out the truth behind that connection. Kate had assumed I’d know about the donations because I was the accountant, and that was a reasonable assumption. But the truth was that I didn’t have a clue that Laurent donated to a children's hospital. The only philanthropy I was aware of was all based in Chile and France.

  Looked like I’d be setting up another visit with my fellow CIA agent. There was no way in hell I could do this kind of research from my apartment, which Laurent owned. I preferred to do my own research, but this time I’d have to rely on someone else. It wasn’t like I could use the public library without raising some flags too. I’d learned early on, that even in the States, you never knew when someone was watching.


  Another hour passed in the gilded parlour or drawing room or whatever the hell it was, until finally only Laurent and his wife were left.

  “Thank you again for coming, Owen,” Mrs. Laurent said. “I am grateful you kept our Kate entertained.”

  Our Kate? She’d only been here for a month. What was this woman playing at?

  “You’re welcome. I was happy to talk to her. She seems like a great young woman.”

  “She is twenty-two,” Mrs. Laurent said. “And very much old enough to make her own choices.”

  Was she trying to set us up? If so, then this could work in my favor. Or it could be a trap, but that was always a possibility.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” I said. “I enjoyed her company.” It took everything I had not to roll my eyes at this banal back and forth.

  Then Laurent showed up.

  “You seemed quite taken with our nanny,” he commented in his oily voice.

  Was that a note of possessiveness in his tone? I really looked forward to the day we busted this jackass.

  “She was lovely,” I said, unwilling to say more. I didn’t want to come off like a creep. Laurent had enough of that by himself.

  “Would you like to ask her on a date?” Mrs. Laurent asked.

  Well, there it was. She was done beating around the bush.

  “I would like that. I didn’t want to presume it would be welcome though.” Oh my God, the tedium of this job is making me speak like these weirdos.

  “I think Kate would be interested, although you will have to ask her yourself,” Mrs. Laurent told me.

  I looked at Laurent. In some of these rich power families, the wife called the shots, and in others, the husband wanted the last say. He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “If Kate is amenable, it is not a problem for me. As long as it does not interfere with your work, or with hers.”

  “Understood,” I said. As if I needed that reminder.