Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress

by Kimberly Lang

  He lost interest in the movie quickly, which was fine since he was far more interested in the woman sitting as far away from him as the small theater seat would allow. He didn’t fully understand the magnetic pull of Gwen, but as he’d already discovered, it was nearly impossible to resist. His earlier resolve of not getting involved with his sister’s tutor—much less a woman from outside his normal sphere—was rapidly eroding. They were both adults and the attraction was obviously mutual. As long as they kept things low-key, he couldn’t think of a single good reason not to explore that mutual attraction—regardless of where it ranked on Miss Behavior’s appropriateness scale.

  Gwen continued to give him what he was beginning to call the Polite Treatment as they walked back to the car and during the drive home. An outsider would never surmise anything was wrong, and at no point could he say she was anything other than the perfect guest. She was just so stinking polite, and he knew it was a complete act.

  Back at the apartment, he opened the door and held it for Evie and Gwen. Evie took a mere two steps inside before she stretched her arms over her head and yawned loudly.

  “I’m pooped and going to bed. See you in the morning. G’nite, Will. G’nite, Gwen.”

  The kid was a terrible actress. But she was in her room with the door closed before her words quit echoing, and he was left alone with Gwen for the second time that day.

  “I’m pretty beat myself,” Gwen said a bit too brightly. “I think I’ll head on to bed, too. Thank yo—”

  He interrupted her, knowing full well how interrupting hovered close to the top of Gwen’s list of pet peeves, but there was really no avoiding it. He wasn’t going to let her retreat behind closed doors just yet. “There are a couple of things we still need to clear up.”

  “Really? What do you…” She trailed off as he closed the slight distance between them, and she took two small steps backward only to find her back against the foyer wall. Her eyes flashed as he took advantage of her position and moved within inches of her body.

  Reaching out, he captured the errant lock of hair that draped across her shoulder again. Twisting it around his finger, he played with the silky strand until her breathing became shallow, and she asked, “What, Will?”

  “First, business and pleasure are two totally separate situations. I’m not one to confuse the two, and I’m surely not going to deny myself one because of the other. I hired you to work with Evie. This—” he released her hair, only to move his hand to the elegant column of her neck, pleased to feel the pulse thumping wildly there “—has nothing to do with that.”

  Gwen’s eyes widened as his other hand slid up her neck to cradle her jaw. She leaned in toward him, and he felt his own heartbeat accelerate.

  “Secondly, Miss Behavior, I don’t give a damn about what’s appropriate.”

  Oh. My. Gwen’s thoughts scrambled, and her libido woke with a mighty cheer. Will’s face hovered inches from hers, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t give a damn about appropriateness, either.

  Yes, you do, her conscience argued, but it was a token protest rapidly smothered by the need that had been simmering all evening and burst to life at the touch of his fingers on her skin.

  She lifted her hand to his chest, where his heart thumped heavily with excitement. It slid, seemingly of its own accord, up over soft black cotton until she found the warm skin at his collar. Will’s breath hissed as her fingers moved around strong muscles to his nape and slid up to tangle in his silky hair. Just one little kiss, that’s all…

  That slight pressure seemed to be all the permission he needed, and his mouth closed on hers. A lifetime of civility hadn’t prepared her for the raw power of his kiss or the force of sensations that ripped through her. Heat. Hunger. Desire.

  His tongue slipped across hers, tasting and tempting, and demanding a response, as lightning bolted down her spine and lit her on fire. Her hand tightened in his hair, holding him to her as she melted from the contact.

  The man can kiss, she thought, before he trailed scorching kisses along her jaw to the soft spot at the base of her ear. All remaining rational thought fled when Will nipped the sensitive skin with strong teeth, and she gave over to the purely carnal thrill of his touch.

  And, oh, oh, oh…his touch. Will’s hands moved from her neck, massaging circles down the tense muscles of her back, to the indentation of her waist, where his fingers splayed for a momentary squeeze before pulling her body into complete contact with his.

  Hard thighs. Powerful chest. Strong arms holding her against him. She rose on tiptoe, aligning her hips with the straining bulge in his jeans. Will groaned, his hand moving to the small of her back to hold her in place. Unadulterated want slammed into her, leaving her reeling on wobbly legs.

  “Will,” she whispered against his lips.

  He broke the kiss, his breath coming in short pants and looked down at her with heavy-lidded eyes. A heartbeat later, he set her away from him, keeping his hands on her hips to steady her.

  “I know.” He exhaled and dropped his forehead to hers. “I got a bit carried away there.”

  Coherent thought eluded her. What? What was he talking about? Why was he talking? Her foggy brain wouldn’t clear and she tried to make sense of his words. Will held her hand loosely as he led her down the long hallway to her bedroom door.

  Twining his fingers in hers, he kissed her knuckles before brushing his lips gently across her mouth. “Good night, Gwen. See you in the morning.”

  Good night? What? No! Clarity arrived moments too late as she watched Will disappear into his bedroom at the end of the hall.

  No, no, no! Damn it! Needy nerve cells screamed at her to call him back, to bang on his door and demand he continue where he left off. Her skin tingled with electrical afterglow and she throbbed in sync with her heartbeat. She took a step toward Will’s closed door.

  Thankfully her sanity chose that moment to return. What on earth was she doing? Even worse, what had she done? Making out with Will Harrison in the hallway while his teenage sister was just footsteps away? Not to mention the whole “it would be bad to sleep with your boss” thing. She’d lost what was left of her cotton-picking mind with that one kiss.

  One mind-blowing, toe-curling, too-good-to-be-real kiss.

  She retreated to her bedroom and closed the door softly behind her. Kicking off her shoes, she left them where they landed and padded across the carpet to the cool marble tiles of the adjoining bath. Cold water splashed on her face helped bring her back to reality, and a sigh-by-sigh replay of what just happened flashed across her mind in Technicolor.

  She closed her eyes and groaned. She’d practically climbed him like a tree. But, oh, what a fine tree he was, all heat and hardness….

  Gwen forced her eyes open, banishing the visual, only to grimace at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair stood at crazy angles, and a vague memory of his hands tangling in it and massaging her scalp stirred. A flush rode high on her cheekbones. Her mouth looked swollen. Water droplets glistened at her temples, and she remembered how Will had kissed her there, too.

  She could hear water running in the bathroom next to hers. Will was in the shower. That was all her libido needed to roar back to life—the thought of Will warm and slick and soapy….

  This had to stop. She visualized the place setting for a seven-course formal dinner that included a fish course and a cheese course. Keeping that image firmly in the front of her mind, she named each piece of the setting by course, hoping it would be unsexy enough to banish Will’s kisses from her immediate memory. Gwen grabbed her brush from the countertop and attacked the tangles in her hair.

  “Bread plate, butter knife, salad fork…” Six courses later, she’d managed to brush her hair and teeth and change into her pajamas without too much fantasizing. She turned off the lights and crawled under the covers. In the dark, fish forks weren’t much of a distraction, and she returned to her list of Reasons This Would Be Bad and focused intently on reason number
one: potential career suicide. Again.

  Things had started out exciting with David, too—okay, he wasn’t nearly as tantalizing as Will, but at twenty-two, she’d been much more naive and David had seemed so perfect. Handsome, successful, charming. As the top student in her class, she’d scored the most coveted of all possible internships: working for the most prestigious lobby group in D.C. When David offered her the chance to work on a plum project, she’d jumped at the opportunity, even if it did mean spending long hours after five in the close confines of his office—just the two of them. She’d fallen hard, and thought David felt the same, at least until his boss found them in a compromising position in the supply closet, and she’d become a Washington cliché in seconds flat. She’d found out then exactly how much David “loved” her. He managed to save his career by painting her as a grasping opportunist trying to sleep her way into a great job, and when the project went to hell days later, he let her take the fall for that as well—even though the blame should have landed solely at his feet. She’d been too heartbroken to fight back—even if she’d known how—and between the gossip about her personal life and the speculation of how she managed to flub such an important project, her job leads dried up.

  Her broken heart had mended quickly thanks to the anger at being used, but it had taken a lot longer to get over the shame of it, and the five years she’d spent in Dallas building a spotless reputation had given her new perspective on the whole sordid affair. She knew better now.

  Then why had she ended up in Will’s arms, practically begging him to take her off to bed with him? She needed to be careful. Even if her heart could take another hit, her career certainly couldn’t.

  Sleep was a long time coming.

  Cold showers always worked like magic in movies and books. But the characters in movies and books obviously hadn’t been kissing Gwen, because the longest, coldest shower in the universe hadn’t removed the lingering imprint of Gwen’s body from his or chased away the haunting scent of her skin.

  Will toweled off, scrubbing at the chill bumps on his skin, and tried to think of something other than the feel of Gwen’s tongue sliding over his like a promise.

  The fact he’d practically mauled her in the hallway popped to mind, followed closely by the realization that he’d have no one to blame but himself if Gwen packed up her tea set and moved out first thing in the morning. He hadn’t intended for the kiss to go that far, that quickly. He just hadn’t been prepared for the desire that had slammed into him at the taste of her.

  Still…if she hadn’t brought him to his senses when she did, he’d still be happily pawing her in his foyer. Or maybe they’d have made it as far as his room by now.

  Gwen felt the attraction between them. That much he knew. She’d been an active and willing participant in that kiss, even if she was probably flogging herself with the inappropriateness of it by now.

  Provided Gwen didn’t hightail it out of here tomorrow at the crack of dawn, he’d start changing her mind about what constituted “appropriate.”

  That should prove interesting.

  His body still wanted to knock on Miss Behavior’s door and, well, misbehave, but it was under control enough for him to crawl under the covers and contemplate his next move instead. It wasn’t often that Fate delivered an interesting, attractive woman to his door like a belated birthday present, and he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

  Vague notions he should use the late-night quiet to break out his laptop and work for a while intruded briefly, but, for once, he was completely uninterested in HarCorp and business problems. He chuckled. There was a first time for everything.

  His plans for Gwen were much more interesting to think about. In no time at all, he found himself in need of another cold shower.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  GOING back to her regular life in two weeks was going to suck. Gwen sat beside the rooftop pool of Will’s condo building—a private pool only for use by the residents of the top three floors—and tried to read and relax.

  A striped cabana shaded her from the sun, and as she leaned back against matching pillows with a cold drink, she half expected a cabana boy to show up with a bottle of suntan oil and offer to rub some on her.

  Evie lay on her stomach in the sun beside the cabana, her feet moving slightly in rhythm to the music on her iPod as she conjugated a series of irregular French verbs. A Geometry text topped a pile of books next to her. Yesterday’s shopping, dinner, and movie extravaganza must have put her behind on her homework. One of the etiquette books stuck out at an awkward angle from her pile as well; a ribboned bookmark indicated Evie was about halfway finished.

  Fluffy white clouds spotted an otherwise clear blue sky, and a breeze fluttered the pages of the book in her lap. By all definitions, it was a perfect day. She would be relaxed and lost in her book by now if not for the constant sound of splashes coming from the pool.

  The noise wasn’t what was disturbing her. The cause of the splashes was. If she lifted her eyes from her book she wasn’t actually reading, she’d see the pool and the powerful body making lap after lap. Will moved through the water like a pro, each stroke strong and sure. The sight of the water sliding over his body sent her mind back to the thought of Will in the shower the night before, which immediately sent her thoughts back to the kiss in the foyer.

  Not that she needed much help remembering that kiss. The feel of Will was branded into her skin. She could still taste him on her lips. What little sleep she’d managed last night had only allowed her mind to carry that kiss to erotic extremes in her dreams.

  After such a restless night, she crawled out of bed early to head to Sarah’s house for coffee and a visit with Letitia. The spoiled cat curled into her lap purring and refused to move, keeping her pinned in the chair and under her sister’s inquisition much longer than comfortable. How Sarah had been able to tell Gwen had been thoroughly kissed, she’d never know, but Sarah wouldn’t rest until every last embarrassing detail was dissected to her satisfaction.

  Yet Gwen still didn’t have any concrete answers—not for why she’d kissed Will, not for what she wanted to happen next, nothing. After two hours and two pots of coffee, she’d finally been able to escape her sister—who really wasn’t helping the situation at all—and headed back to what was beginning to feel like the lion’s den.

  Gwen hadn’t thought to ask about how Evie and Will spent their weekends, and she’d returned to the condo to find them headed to the pool. Against her better judgment, she allowed them to convince her to join them. She regretted the decision instantly after Will stripped down to nothing but a pair of black swim trunks. Thankfully her sunglasses hid the unladylike and unflattering way her eyes had to have bugged at the sight of all that bronze skin and hard muscle. She’d run to the safety of the cabana immediately, very glad when Will dove straight into the water instead of taking the other lounge chair.

  Now Evie was engrossed with homework, and she was having a hard time pulling her eyes away from Will.

  It’s rude to stare. But next to impossible not to, she told herself. She lost count of how many laps he completed long ago, but he showed no signs of tiring. That explained the tan. And the shoulders. And the chest…She reached for her water bottle, rolling it across the heated skin of her neck and chest before taking a long drink to try to lower her temperature. With a sigh, she tried to concentrate on the words in her book, thankful neither Evie nor Will were paying her any attention at all.

  Water splashed at her feet, and she looked up to see Will, all wet and wonderful, standing in the shallow end of the pool, ready to send another stream of water at Evie.

  “Hey!” Evie shouted, “You’re getting my homework all wet.”

  “Aren’t you two coming in?” Water dripped from his dark hair onto his shoulders before joining the rivulets running down his chest and over the muscles of his stomach. Her stomach contracted at the sight.

  Mercy. The man should be on billboards.

  Evie cl
osed her notebook and took a running dive into the deep end. As graceful in the water as her brother—if not more so—she swam the length of the pool and surfaced not far from Will.

  Cupping her hand, Evie expertly sent a spray of water straight into Will’s face. He shook it off, sending droplets in all directions.

  “Oh, big mistake, squirt.”

  Evie squealed as Will pelted her with sheets of water until she begged for mercy. For Gwen, it was a much-needed distraction from her brooding and drooling over Will. When he stopped, Evie sent one last spray his way, then swam quickly to Gwen’s side of the pool.

  Will’s arm pulled back, ready to continue.

  “Better not, Will. You’ll get Gwen all wet.”

  Gwen laughed. “Oh, no, don’t come running to me for protection. You’re on your own, kiddo.” She made a show of wrapping her book in a towel and placing it out of immediate water damage.

  “Traitor,” Evie wailed before she disappeared under a wall of water that drenched Gwen as well.

  The cold water took her breath away. She pushed her sopping bangs out of her eyes to see a completely unrepentant Will grinning at her.

  Something lightened inside of her chest, and she grabbed the feeling and the moment with both hands.

  “Oh, you are so dead meat, Will Harrison. Come on, Evie.”

  That was all the warning he got before she jumped feet-first into the pool and joined Evie in sending as much water at Will as humanly possible.

  She wasn’t as good at it as Will and Evie, but at least two-against-one helped even the odds a bit. Will fought back, using both arms and hands to keep the water flying as he moved in her direction and backed her up against the pool wall, leaving her helpless under the constant fall of water.

  Evie, that little traitor, switched allegiances and joined Will in dousing her.