Misbehaving with the Millionaire: The Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress. Kimberly Lang
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had a doubt Evie would shine socially, but the surprise came as Evie took an interest in the family business and quickly showed business savvy was an inherited trait. Family dinners moved from the basics of table manners and polite conversation to proper discourse on current events and HarCorp company business. Evie managed to retain her natural exuberance and charm while acquiring a polish fine enough for the most critical of society’s elite. With her good looks and intelligence, Evie was destined to set Dallas on fire.
While Will picked up Japanese with a speed that impressed her, he chafed against the strictures of Japanese etiquette, his frustration at not being able to “cut to the chase” more than evident. But Will was a consummate businessman, and he didn’t need any help in that department. Aside from a reminder to put the BlackBerry on silent, of course.
Both Evie and Will would be great successes on her résumé.
But for someone who’d always measured her happiness by professional success, Gwen couldn’t deny that the best part of her day now came after Evie went to bed. Once Evie’s door closed, Will transformed from charming boss and loving big brother into a bedroom-eyed Romeo intent on charming her in every way—including in her bed.
And she wasn’t naive enough to believe Evie was ignorant of her and Will’s relationship. No fifteen-year-old went to bed that early on a regular basis. Although she and Will tried hard not to make the physical side of their relationship blatant, Gwen knew Evie intentionally gave them privacy in the evenings.
Gwen didn’t know where she and Will were headed—if they were headed anywhere at all—but she told herself she didn’t care. Will never mentioned a future beyond the end of her contractual obligations, but they were all so focused on the events of the next few weeks, she couldn’t read anything into it. She was living in the minute—enjoying what she could while she could. Gwen adored Evie, and her feelings for Will got more complicated every day, but she was taking her sister’s advice to just take one day at a time. So far, that plan was working quite well.
Only one small problem flawed her otherwise halcyon existence—Tish’s innuendos. She hadn’t mentioned the column to Will or Evie since Monday night, but the fallout from Tish’s gossip hadn’t been pleasant. Two clients had backed out of their contracts already—one for a series of classes at a private elementary school and the other for a military wives’ event. It took fancy footwork on her part to calm the sponsors of two of the debutante clubs that formed the backbone of her deb business. Half-truths and cajoling—and a little questioning of Tish’s sanity and sources—managed to pacify the most conservative of her clients, if only temporarily.
She’d taken the opportunity to instruct her TeenSpace readers on the inappropriateness of speculation and evils of spreading gossip. She was also ignoring Tish’s e-mails outright.
By Friday, the furor caused by Tish’s column had calmed for the most part. Life was good. And when Evie returned from her afternoon swim with an enormous smile and an even bigger favor to ask of Gwen, she just couldn’t say no.
At seven forty-five—the first time Will had worked late in two weeks—Gwen finally heard the front door open and close and the rattle of Will’s keys as he dropped them on the hall table.
“Anybody home?”
“In here,” Gwen called from the den where she’d been nursing a glass of Merlot for the last half hour and watching TV.
Will rounded the corner looking slightly disheveled and completely adorable. Her heart skipped a beat at his smile. “It’s awfully quiet. Do I want to know?”
She laughed. “No drama.” Yet. “Mrs. Gray needed to leave early, so your dinner is warming in the oven. Evie is in her room.”
“Really?” One eyebrow raised with the question. “Then I can do this.” Without warning, Will leaned down and kissed her. A simple “Honey-I’m-home” kiss that seemed perfectly right at the moment and sent a happy little thrill through her. “How was your day?”
“Great. And yours?”
He grunted.
“That good, huh? Can I get you a drink?” He nodded, and Gwen went to the bar feeling oddly domestic at the Ozzie and Harriet scenario as Will loosened his tie and got comfortable on the couch.
Will rubbed his temples. “Is Evie sick?”
“No. I’m pretty sure she’s on the phone.” That was almost a given, considering. “Why?”
“Then I’m not sure I want to know why she’s in her room this early. Do I even want to ask?”
Perceptive man. She took a deep breath. “Evie wanted me to talk to you about something.”
“Uh-oh.” He took the glass she proffered and nodded his thanks. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because she’d be in here otherwise, pestering me to death if it was something simple like a new phone or clothes. Instead she’s put you up to it.” He cut his eyes sideways at her as she sat. “She’s smart, you know. You can talk me into almost anything. Plus, she figures if you’re on her side, I’m bound to give in to whatever it is.”
Gwen shrugged. Good Lord, she was picking up Evie’s bad habits.
“You might as well hit me with it. I promise not to shoot the messenger.”
Gwen mentally crossed her fingers. “Evie met a boy—a young man, I mean—at the pool today. He’s asked her to the movies tomorrow night.”
Will sat his glass down carefully and rubbed his eyes. “And?”
“And?” Gwen wanted to hit him with something. “There is no ‘and.’ Evie’s been asked on a date and she wants to know if you’ll let her go.”
“Who is this kid?”
“Peter Asbury. Evie says he’s sixteen and lives two floors down.”
He nodded, but his expressionless face kept Gwen from figuring out how he felt about this new turn of events. “I know his father. He’s the head of something at the university.”
“Dean of Students.” Gwen supplied automatically. “Well?”
Will swirled his drink in his glass. “She’s too young to be dating.”
“She’s fifteen. It’s not out of the ordinary or anything.” Will’s dry tone bothered her. Evie expected him to go through the roof at the thought of her dating, which was why she’d conned Gwen into being the one to broach the subject. Gwen hadn’t expected fireworks, but Will could be discussing the weather for all the lack of emotion in his voice. The idea of hitting him sounded better by the moment.
“What did you say when she asked you?”
“I didn’t say anything.” That wasn’t entirely true. She’d shared Evie’s teenage glee like Sarah had shared hers years ago. “You’re the one who has to okay it, not me.”
“I’m asking for your opinion, though. Do you think she should go? This is new territory for me.”
Get used to it. Evie’s going to have the boys eating out of her hand and you’ll be beating them off with a stick for the rest of your born days. “Do I think she’s old enough? Probably. Do I think she’s ready? It’s hard to say. Do I think she’s dying to go? Yes, definitely.”
Will sighed, the sound of a man who had resigned himself to the grim reality of a teenage sister teetering on the edge of boy-crazy. “I guess it was bound to happen eventually.”
Gwen hid her smile behind her wineglass.
“I want to meet him first, though,” he grumbled.
“Why don’t you invite him to dinner tomorrow night before the movie. You can grill him on his intentions and put the fear