Undercover Princess

by Suzanne Brockmann

  “Come on,” Trey said to Kathy. “I’ll show you where Ford is buried.” He stopped himself before he reached for her hand.

  She followed, but once they were outside the gate, into the back, she stopped. “We don’t have to go all the way up to the top of the hill. What’s the point, really? This isn’t going to take long.”

  The breeze moved her hair across her face, and she pretended to be engrossed in tying it back into a ponytail, only briefly meeting his gaze.

  “I’ve been hiding from you,” he told her. “I want to apologize for that.”

  “Oh, dear.” She laughed, but it seemed more to hide the fact that her mouth was tremulous. “We’re going to do the apology thing now, are we? Is that what this is? Well, in that case, I’m sorry, too. I came on much too strong the other evening. It was my fault entirely.”

  “No,” he said. “It wasn’t. I was there, too, remember?”

  “Right.” She nodded briskly. “Well, if that’s it then…”

  She would have turned away, but he caught her arm. And instantly let her go. God help him if she wound up in his arms. “Kathy, look, I just think it would be way too complicated. I think we’d both be better off as—”

  “Friends,” she finished for him. She smiled much too brightly. “I understand.”

  “It was just one of those crazy things.” He was trying to convince himself as well.

  “Of course.”

  “You work for me,” he tried to explain.

  “I understand completely.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She met his gaze steadily now, and nodded, her bearing positively regal in her graciousness. “Your apology is accepted. Thank you so very much for talking to me about this—and not just hiding from me indefinitely.”

  It had to be the first time in his life he’d ever been thanked for ending a relationship.

  She was pale, her freckles standing out. “I’m glad to have you as a friend,” she said softly, giving him the gift of a smile despite the fact he knew damn well that he’d hurt her.

  He’d done exactly what he’d hoped he wouldn’t do.

  And God, even though he’d done it, he still ached to kiss her beautiful mouth, to pull her into his arms and devour her.

  Devour her sweetness. Steal her innocence. Crush her hope.

  He fought like hell not to reach for her as she turned away. Fought and won.

  He watched her walk back toward the gate, noble enough to do the right thing, but not noble enough to feel good about doing it. In fact, he felt sick to his stomach, felt sucker punched to the gut.

  It was a feeling he suspected wouldn’t go away for a long, long time.

  Chapter 13

  December arrived with gorgeous, clear skies and sixty-degree days. It was the kind of weather that inspired happiness, but for the past week, Katherine had merely been going through the motions.

  She sat at the desk in her room, staring at the file of notes and information she’d compiled about Bill Lewis—the man who could indeed be her missing brother. She’d spoken to a number of people about him, but received almost no new information. He was personable, charismatic, one-of-a-kind, generous, a shrewd businessman—and it was not against his nature to completely drop off the face of the earth time and again.

  She’d found out where Bill Lewis wasn’t. He wasn’t in Albuquerque, of that she was certain. He wasn’t in the apartment he kept in New York, nor the beach house near L.A. That left the entire rest of the world as possibilities.

  James Bond would be extremely unimpressed at her sleuthing abilities.

  Katherine sighed as she shuffled through her papers again, hoping to find—what? Something she’d missed? Instead, she found herself thinking about Trey.

  She’d seen Trey exactly four times since they’d had their little talk, since he’d dropped the “friend” bomb on her. She should have expected that. She should have known better. Teal underwear or not, it had been insane to think he’d ever see her in a romantic light. She was the kind of woman men were friends with.

  She was okay about this. Or, at least, she would be. Eventually. She knew firsthand what a little time and distance could do for an injured heart and bruised ego. And she couldn’t blame Trey for something he didn’t feel.

  What she wasn’t okay about was the fact that despite his attempt to clear the air between them, he’d retreated back into deep hiding. His kids weren’t seeing very much of him, and that was wrong. She should be the one staying away from dinner, if anyone had to stay away.

  But there was no way to tell him that. He’d canceled every single one of their regular nightly meetings for the past week, as well.

  She hadn’t even had the chance to tell him about the torn pants incident at school. Stacy seemed to have gotten over it. She’d gone back to school with little complaining. But more and more often, Katherine heard the sounds of weeping from the girl’s room. It seemed to be more than mere teenage angst. She’d tried talking, but Stacy was keeping her thoughts to herself.

  The phone rang and Katherine stood up, stretching her legs as she went into the hallway. She’d purposely stayed close to home since Doug had complained of a headache this morning. She wondered if it were the school nurse giving her a call now.

  “Sutherland residence.”

  Silence. “Um, Kathy, isn’t Anita there?”

  It was Trey.

  “Oh,” she said, her traitorous pulse kicking into double time at the familiar sound of his voice. “No. No, she’s out running errands.”

  He swore softly, then sighed, a frustrated expulsion of air. “All right. Can you have her call me, please, when she gets in?”

  It was as if they were strangers. Funny, she’d thought he’d told her that he wanted to be friends. She closed her eyes, picturing the way he’d looked on Thanksgiving, dressed down in faded jeans and a cable-knit sweater. The wind had ruffled his gorgeous dark hair as he’d stood there on the hillside and essentially apologized for not being attracted to her.

  She opened her eyes. “Is there something I can do for you?” she asked, perhaps a touch too sharply.

  He hesitated. “These are your hours off.”

  “Oh, of course,” she said tartly. “You’re absolutely right. I wouldn’t possibly be able to lift a finger to help you unless I’m being paid to do so.”

  He made that noise again that was a cross between a sigh and a frustrated laugh. “I’m sorry—”

  “I’m here,” she interrupted. “I’m not doing anything particularly exciting. If there’s something you need help with, please ask.”

  “I left Bob Bowen’s phone number on my desk, up in my office,” he told her. “I think it’s under that paperweight Dougie made me in kindergarten.”

  “I’ll get it for you,” she told him. “Do you want me to call you back?”

  “No,” he said. “I’ll call you back on my office line—save you the hassle of fighting your way through the automated answering system.”

  “Give me a few minutes to get there,” Katherine said. “I’m on the other side of the house and I seem to have misplaced my skateboard.”

  He actually laughed. A real laugh. “Thanks,” he said. “Talk to you in a few.”

  Katherine hung up and moved briskly down the hallway. She tried not to think too much as she went up the stairs to the tower. Trey’s office door was closed and she turned the knob and went inside, then turned on the lights.

  She hadn’t been in here in a while.

  She went behind Trey’s desk, careful not to sit in his chair. She found the paperweight, but there was nothing underneath it. No slips of paper anywhere on his desk. Just a pile of files, each clearly marked with a client name, none of which were Bowen.

  The phone on his desk rang, and she picked it up. “Trey Sutherland’s office.”

  “Hello, is Mr. Sutherland vail bull?” It wasn’t Trey. It was a woman’s voice, with a southern twang so thick Katherine almost couldn’t decipher the words
. Vail bull? Available.

  “Oh,” Katherine said. “I’m sorry. No, he’s not in right now.”

  “Actually, I’m looking to find Bill Lewis. Is he there by any chance?” The woman’s voice sounded strained, shaky, as if she were extremely upset. A lover discarded, perhaps?

  “Who’s calling please?” Katherine asked, taking a pen from Trey’s top desk drawer.

  “Betty Jo Parker. It’s very important that I speak with him.”

  Katherine wrote down the name. “If you can leave me your number, Ms. Parker, I’ll have him get back to you as soon as he comes in.”

  The woman hesitated. “I think I’ll try again later. Can you tell me what time you expect him?”

  “Unfortunately, I can’t,” Katherine told her. “Mr. Lewis has been out of touch for a while. If you don’t mind my asking, when was the last time you saw him?”

  Betty Jo Parker’s laugh sounded more like a sob. “I spoke to his lawyer just last week. But as for Bill, it’s been much, much too long.”

  “Why don’t you leave your number and—”

  The line was dead. Betty Jo had hung up without revealing her location.

  Katherine’s first potential clue in weeks. A woman who had spoken to a lawyer who had presumably spoken to Bill Lewis within the past week! And yet she’d managed only to get a name, no number. There had to be thousands of Parkers living in the United States—and that was assuming the woman had a phone listing under her own name.

  The phone rang again. She picked it up, hoping it was Betty Jo, calling back. “Hello.”

  “What’s up? The line was busy.” Trey.

  “A woman named Betty Jo Parker, called for Bill Lewis,” Katherine told him. “I’m sorry. I thought it was you and—”

  “That’s all right. Did she say what she wanted?”

  “Just to find Bill.”

  “Great. She can get in line.”

  “Do you know her?” Katherine asked. “She sounded upset.”

  “The name’s not familiar. And Bill’s more the Veronica than the Betty Jo type. Did you find that number?”

  “I’m sorry, it’s not anywhere on your desk. At least not in plain view.”

  He swore. “Where did I put that…? Wait. All right. I know. Caller ID. The box is by the computer. Over to the right.”

  “I see it,” she reported.

  “Do you know how to use it?” he asked.

  “I think so.” Caller ID. Betty Jo Parker’s number would be listed on there and…Sure enough, there it was. Parker. Katherine quickly scribbled down the number. The exchange was not local, and Katherine made a mental note to determine its origin.

  “Bob called at about ten last night,” Trey told her. “I’m positive I didn’t clear the numbers from the Caller ID box.”

  Bowen. It had been the call before Betty Jo’s. Katherine read him the phone number.

  “Great,” Trey said.

  She took a deep breath. “I was hoping you might have time to meet with me to—”

  “I know it’s been a while,” he interrupted. “But I’ve got to cancel again tonight. I’m sorry. Work is crazy and the kids seem to be doing really well. I’ll be home around four to spend some time with them, but I’ve got to skip dinner again, and I won’t be back until after midnight.”

  “Actually,” Katherine said, “Stacy’s been very unhappy lately. I was hoping you could try talking to her. She won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Are you sure? She’s been almost upbeat around me.”

  Was she sure? Right now, she had to wonder. Were Stacy’s tears from normal thirteen-year-old frustration, and was she, Katherine, really only using this as a chance to get closer to Trey?

  “I’ve got to run,” he said in that stranger’s voice, so very politely. “Thank you very much for the phone number.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said. “Mr. Sutherland.”

  She hung up the phone before he had a chance to respond. Not that she particularly expected any kind of response at all.

  “Do you have a sec?”

  Trey sat back down on the piano bench, surprised. Stacy had never initiated a conversation before. “Yeah,” he said. “Sure. What’s up?”

  Stacy focused all of her attention on cleaning out her clarinet and putting the wooden pieces back in her case. “I was just wondering what we were going to do about Kathy.”

  “Kathy?” For an instant, Trey thought perhaps his daughter knew why he’d been spending so much time at work, knew that despite his keeping his distance, nothing had changed for him. Somehow Kathy had gotten under his skin, inside his lungs. He breathed her, dreamed her. There was not a single moment of the day when he didn’t want her. Even now, more than a week later, he could still taste her kisses, still smell the soft scent of her perfume as if she’d been in his arms two minutes ago.

  What the hell was he going to do about Kathy?

  But that couldn’t have been what Stacy meant. There was no way she could know. He’d been so careful to hide everything he was feeling.

  Stacy looked up. “If we don’t do something, she’s going to leave in a month. She’s been talking a lot lately about ‘the qualities Doug and I wish to find in a new caretaker.’ She’s been making lists. I don’t want her to leave,” she said flatly. “And Doggie doesn’t, either. Offer her a pile of money. Make it worth her while.”

  “I’ve done that. She turned it down.”

  “Double it.”

  He had to smile. “You think like me, kid. But I did that, too. Apparently money doesn’t matter to her.”

  “So what we’ve got to do is figure out what does matter to her.” Stacy chewed on her lower lip, scowling in concentration.

  “I don’t think there’s anything we can do to make her stay,” Trey told her. “I think we need to be prepared to—”

  “Give up?” Stacy looked at him as if he’d suggested they take Poindexter back to the pound.

  “Have you ever heard the expression ‘Hold on tightly, let go lightly?’”

  “It sounds stupid. It sounds like giving yourself permission to be a quitter.”

  “It’s not. It means when you know, really know that you’re fighting a losing battle, sometimes it’s best to let yourself lose quickly and gracefully.”

  God knows he hadn’t done that with Helena. He’d fought like hell to keep her with him, long after she’d stopped fighting to live. And when he should have been giving her only comfort and support and love, he’d given her anger and pain and frustration. He’d given her argument and disagreement. He’d shouted and cried. He’d refused to let go, and she’d left him anyway.

  “This isn’t a losing battle,” Stacy said. “Marry her.” She was dead serious. “That’s what she wants. I know. We talked about it.”

  Trey had to hold on to the piano bench with both hands. “Kathy told you that she wants to marry me?”

  “Not you specifically,” Stacy said with a shrug. “Just that she wants to get married. She has that classic Snow White fantasy. You know, ‘some day my prince will come?’ All you need to do is be her prince. Marry her and she’ll stay. Think of the money you’d save.”

  Trey laughed in astonishment. “That’s not exactly a church-approved reason for marriage. To keep your nanny from resigning.”

  “Do you like her?” Stacy shook her head. “Why am I asking you that? I know you like her. How could you not? But do you like her like her? I mean, the idea of kissing her wouldn’t gross you out, right?”

  Elbows on his knees, deep in his own personal twilight zone, Trey put his forehead in the palms of his hands. “I can’t believe you’re asking me this.”

  “She thinks you’re hot.”

  He lifted his head to look incredulously at his daughter.

  She laughed at the expression on his face. Great, at least someone thought this was funny.

  “She didn’t say that, either,” Stacy explained. “But I know she’s thinking it. I can see it everytime she look
s at you. Marry her, Daddy. You’ll have to make her fall in love with you, but that won’t be so hard. She’s really into romance. A few slow dances, some kisses in the moonlight and she’s yours.”

  Trey couldn’t believe the conversation he was having with Stacy. He couldn’t believe they were even having a conversation at all.

  He couldn’t believe she’d actually called him Daddy.

  The truth was, they were sitting here, talking, because of Kathy. Kathy had found them a way to spend time together without fighting. Kathy had brought Doug back to him, too.

  Trey didn’t want her to leave. As tough as it was to be around her, constantly wanting her the way he did, the thought of her packing up and moving out was even harder to bear. Still, marriage was absurd.

  “Has it occurred to you that I might not want to get married again?”

  “Why wouldn’t you?” Stacy asked. “You’re lonely, and she’s only the absolutely nicest human being on the face of the earth—not to mention she’s beautiful. Have you noticed that she’s beautiful?”

  “Yeah.” He’d noticed.

  “You’d be insane to let her get away.”

  “But I’m not in love with her.” As Trey said the words, something stirred uneasily inside him. He stomped it down. He wasn’t in love with Kathy Wind. He was completely, desperately in lust with her, but that’s all it was. It started with the same letter, but it was very different.

  “So…fall in love with her,” Stacy said as if it were as easy to do as picking up a gallon of milk on the way home from work.

  “Love doesn’t work that way, and you know it.” And he wasn’t ready for love. He didn’t want that giddy feeling that came from walking on a high wire. He didn’t want to rely on another person for his happiness. He didn’t want to give his heart away again. He’d done that once, and he’d buried his heart when he’d buried Helena. Or so he’d thought. But here it was, on the verge of becoming permanently lodged in his throat. God, he didn’t want that. He’d rather live his life unhappily than risk that kind of pain.

  Trey stopped breathing. What had he just been thinking? He already was completely unhappy.