Date in Disguise

by Laura Westbrook

  Nothing moved on the street other than hedge bushes and flowers swaying in the soft breeze. I might as well get to it. And with that, I squared my hips and started walking.

  Surprisingly, he didn’t have a guard shack or any kind of security that I could see. I figured all rich people had someone on watch. My brothers never did, but even they were probably poor compared to this guy. The circular driveway funneled everything toward the front door, staged at least a dozen steps in the air, like a castle on the hill. It was practically built like one. While a beautiful home, it could definitely use a woman’s touch.

  Just short of the first stair, I pulled out the note from my jacket pocket, and for the tenth time, I read it. Gain his trust. Pretend to interview him. Make up the questions as you go. Try to make them probing ones. Ask him about his off-shore accounts and see if he bites. Take some pictures of him if you can. Whatever you do, remember you’re helping the family.

  Audric must have tacked on that part at the end just in case I was tempted to chicken out. I was there, so I might as well continue forward. A part of me wondered whether he’d be wearing the same cologne he’d worn last night. The musky kind. I grimaced as I remembered the awkward moment. Just because he was the enemy of my family didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate something he wore.

  I stuffed the note back into my pocket and looked up at the door. I was on the shorter side of average height, but the way the door towered above me only exacerbated the effect. Taking a deep breath, I knocked.

  A stout, older man wearing a crisp, white button-up shirt opened the door. “Yes, may I help you?”

  “I’m here to see Gavin Walsh.”

  “Do you have an appointment with him?”

  “No, I don’t.” I already regretted not saying I did. It was a lie, sure, but my entire persona was one too. “I’m a reporter for a philanthropy magazine, and I was partway through an interview with Gavin…Mr. Walsh last night while at a dinner party. I was hoping to finish it. He’s home, isn’t he?”

  Halfway through, the man looked about ready to toss me out, but once I mentioned the interview, his head snapped back. “What did you say your name is?”

  “Charity Nelson?” I meant to say it as a statement and not a question. I’d have to work on that.

  “In that case,” the man said with a growing smile, “please come with me. Mr. Walsh is out back concluding his tennis lesson for the week, but he should be near finished.”

  It turned out Audric was right. He’d probably want an apology later for doubting him. Even with the information, I was struck with how easy this all was. I pretty much walked up to a billionaire’s house, and not only was I let in, I was being led right to him. I might have this all wrapped up in record time.

  “My name is Albert,” the man said. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you while you’re here.”

  “Thank you.” Everyone was polite so far at the Walsh residence. I wondered how many employees he had on the property at any given time. He probably had a palm frond peon to waft breeze in his direction, paid for with the acquisition of family businesses like mine. Poor Albert probably had no idea. For a passing moment, I wondered if I had an obligation to tell him.

  I couldn’t help but run my fingers along the intricate display stands where likely priceless vases sat and dragged my eyes along the oversized works of art dotting the hallway. Crown molding and opulence paved the way for us, and he passed by it all as if this was normal. If I lived in a house like this, it would take me an hour just to get from the bed to the kitchen.

  Albert opened the back door to reveal an expansive lawn, a courtyard even. It was far larger than anything I could classify as a backyard. There was another fountain back here, only this one wider and featuring concrete dolphins spitting out a stream of water to the pool below. I heard a bop sound to my right, and I finally saw him.

  He swung his racket again and slammed the tennis ball over the net and across his opponent’s square. I had no idea how tennis rules worked, except the man on the other side laughed and shook his head. He reached for a towel and rubbed it across the back of his neck. I was pretty sure Gavin hadn’t seen me, and yet there he was, walking toward me.

  Just shy of when he’d have to notice me, I froze. What in the world am I going to say? I fumbled with the skirt of my summer dress. It was the first time I’d truly felt on my own with all this. No help in my ear and the cavalry wasn’t coming. I stood alone.

  “Mr. Walsh, I have the pleasure of introducing Ms. Charity Nelson. She stopped by to speak with you, and I took the liberty of letting her in.”

  Albert was so formal, I almost expected a half bow, but he merely gestured.

  “Is that so?” Gavin eyed me up and down. Mild irritation flared up at his stare, but that didn’t stop me from adjusting the way the skirt fell over my legs under his gaze. Why did I do that? Do I want to look good for him? I mean, that’s the whole idea, isn’t it? But that doesn’t mean I have to want that, necessarily.

  In a complete move of hypocrisy, I took him in as well. The T-shirt he wore hugged every contour of his barrel chest in a way that left nothing to the imagination. A light sheen of sweat only molded the material to his skin even more. The workout clearly had been productive for him. Which was good. Really good.

  He wiped his right forearm across his brow, and even un-flexed he displayed a healthy showing of arm muscles. When he moved his arm to put it back down, it flexed for just a moment, but it was enough. Power surged through every movement he made, even if it was just a subtle gesture. He looked like he could pick someone up by the scruff of his neck and throw him out, if he wanted. A man like that probably made any woman around him feel safe.

  Gavin turned to his tennis partner. “Same time next week, right?”

  “Same time,” the man said, gathering his things.

  “I’ll see you out,” Albert said, and he was quick to escort the man away, leaving the two of us alone. I clasped my hands together just to give them something to do. They felt clammy, so I wiped them against my dress instead.

  “So, what brings you by?” Gavin asked.

  Okay, relax. You can do this. “We didn’t get to finish our interview last night, and I was hoping we could.”

  “I’m still not quite sure what happened. I’ve been scratching my head about it ever since. You mind filling me in?”

  “I’m sorry about that. I’m not entirely sure myself. It wasn’t polite of me to rush off like that without saying goodbye.” Both true.

  He crossed his arms. “If it was any later, I would’ve thought your carriage turned into a pumpkin or something.”

  That got a laugh out of me. Stop it. I’m not supposed to be enjoying this. “So, tennis, huh?” Good change of topic.

  He glanced over at his racket. “Yeah, I just started getting into it, really. I never thought I would, but it’s a great way to stay in shape. Ninety percent of it is running around, so it’s all about cardio and keeping muscles toned.”

  “It sure is,” I said.

  He turned and glanced at me.

  I cleared my throat. “I mean, it is because I’ve heard from other people it is.”

  “You didn’t come all the way down here to show up at my home to talk about tennis, did you?”

  “Ah, no, I didn’t. Right, the interview.” I pulled out my phone from my purse and clicked on the record button. I hadn’t thought of it earlier, but it made sense to use, both for my backstory and to attempt to catch a snippet of him saying something that could be used against him later. Win-win.

  “Would you like to walk with me while we talk?”

  “Sure.” I reached my arm up in a copy of last night until I realized he wasn’t holding out his. My cheeks warmed as I let mine fall, hopefully before he noticed. He did, unfortunately, but he held it out right after. I couldn’t exactly reject him then, so I slid my arm into his. He’d cooled down a bit in the few minutes of rest he’d had, but his arm was still as strong a
nd taut as I remembered.

  “What would you like to ask me now?”

  I could’ve been wrong, but his voice had a…something else to it, almost as if he dared me to ask something beyond protocol.

  “How does it feel being on top?”

  “In business, you mean? I’m not sure I’d quite say that. The company is doing well, certainly, but there’s always another goal to reach.”

  “You’re being modest. A lot of other watch companies have fallen where yours has succeeded. What did you do to them to get ahead?”

  We turned a corner along the walkway and headed into a bit of a garden. Large, purple flowers, a kind I’d never seen before, hung over the path, woven in a trellis. Even from that distance, I could smell them, light and summer-like.

  “I wouldn’t say it came down to what I’ve done to them. It’s a tough industry. There were a lot of times early on where I thought I wouldn’t pull through either. Hell, it happened again two years ago when we took our merchandise to Europe. It’s all part of the process. I held a conference once for designers who were brand new in the industry. Competition is good for us all, keeping our strategies sharp. I even learned something from it.”

  I stared at the tip of my phone, the part recording all this. It wasn’t exactly the answer I’d expected to hear. Or at least, not the answer my brothers had prepared me to hear. But, then again, it would be foolish for him to say something harmful during a recorded interview. He wouldn’t be that stupid, would he?

  I decided to switch gears if he wasn’t going to bite on the business side of things. “What is your taste in women?”

  He turned his head. “Is this part going in the article?”

  “Sure, why not? Unless you’d feel more comfortable sharing off the record…” I actually didn’t mean that to come across in a sultry kind of way, but once it popped out, I decided not to get in its way.

  “I don’t mind sharing with you.” He squeezed his arm around mine a little tighter. “I get a good vibe from you.”

  “From all you know talking to me for a day and a half.”

  “Hey, I can read a person pretty well. I feel like I’ve known you longer than that. Maybe we’ve talked before and don’t remember.”

  “Ah, so…taste in women?”

  “I’d say I like women who are caring, thoughtful, give back to the community, easy to talk to, and beautiful, of course.”

  I felt my cheeks warm, and I immediately scolded myself. He’s not necessarily talking about you. Although he could be.

  “And what do you like to do with these women?”

  “Get to know them. Walk through a garden with them. Talk about zoo volunteering.”

  “You remembered.”

  “Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I remember something you said?”

  “I just…with all the craziness last night, I’m surprised you remembered anything other than our kiss and the way I sprinted out of there.”

  “I definitely didn’t forget about that kiss.”

  My lips tingled at the memory, the way he’d drawn my body closer to his with his strong hands and gently held me in place while he enjoyed my touch. I resisted the urge to lick my lips just to have something touching them.

  “We did kiss.”

  That was a dumb response. Coming up with sexy lines wasn’t nearly as easy without someone writing them for me.

  The walkway had taken us full circle and out the other side of the garden, dropping us off right in front of the house where we’d started.

  “Would you like to come inside for some lemonade?” he asked.

  That’s old fashioned. Sounds like something out of a fifties TV show. Most guys would invite me in for something harder. Endearing, though. Still, I had to be on my guard.

  “Sure, I’d like that.”

  Chapter Nine

  Faye

  His kitchen was a woman’s dream. Or my dream, at least. The island in the middle was huge. I could’ve crawled up on top of it and laid down and still had room to spare—basically a really hard king size bed. Everything was a yummy, dark cherry wood. So much of everything.

  “This is amazing,” I whispered to myself.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “Look at all this countertop space. I could make cookies, bake bread from scratch, and cook a turkey all at the same time.”

  “You must have a thing for countertops.”

  “I think it’s a fetish. They just haven’t come out with a term for it yet.”

  He laughed. “First time for everything.”

  “Sorry, that’s just me being weird.”

  He opened the fridge. “That’s okay, I like a little weird.”

  You don’t hear that every day. “Thank you,” I said as I accepted the glass of lemonade. Taking a sip, I realized both that it was the best lemonade I’d had in a long time and that I needed to lay off sodas.

  “This is great. Where did you get it from?”

  “It’s homemade.”

  “I’m impressed. So, your chef or maybe your housekeeper made it?”

  “No, I made it. Sometimes things taste better when you do it yourself. I don’t hire a chef or anything like that. I try to make as many meals at home as I can.”

  I gave him a mental nod. “You’re full of surprises today, aren’t you?”

  He chuckled around the edges of his glass. “You have no idea.”

  Something about his tone made me shiver. Before today, I would’ve imagined any such reaction in his presence would be a negative thing, but this was far from it. His voice had a tiny bit of a growl to it, like he was insinuating he could rise to the challenge…of something. I didn’t think he meant anything particular, but just the way he said it made me more aware of his capabilities. The dashing billionaire invited in the attractive, young woman for a drink, and everyone knew how that script went.

  I set down my glass and closed the space between us. I had no idea how to go about this, so I figured the best bet was to reenact movie scenes I’d seen before. By playing the actress, it would help me get through this and take the initiative in a way I wouldn’t be caught dead doing otherwise.

  I reached up and swirled my finger across his chest. It was difficult not to notice how his pectoral muscles tensed underneath my fingertips, until I realized they were naturally that taut, even at rest. I lifted my fingertips to points and lightly scratched up and down.

  “That was nice of you to open up your home and to offer me refreshments. I wonder how I can thank you.”

  This was it: the path of no return. There was no way I could roll that back now. I looked down so he wouldn’t see the mixture of embarrassment and intense shyness overtake me, tinged with a little guilt. This was not the way a proper young woman from a known company family behaved. We were known for our class and charm, and until now, I at least had the former.

  I finally caught his expression as he looked down on me, and I wasn’t shocked to see him surprised. I was probably average at best at my flirting game, and I’d launched the heat level from zero to ten with that little segue. That reminded me—when I had put away my phone, I didn’t turn off the voice recorder. That actually worked in my favor. The quality from inside my purse probably wasn’t great, but it had to catch something.

  “Now don’t look so surprised,” I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck and teased my fingertips there. “I’m sure you’re used to all kinds of women throwing themselves at you. Tell me about the nastiest one you’ve been with.”

  “Ah, I’m not exactly sure what you mean.”

  “You know, a dirty girl. Tell me something nasty you’ve done with a woman.”

  “I’m not exactly used to women wanting to hear about other women.”

  “What can I say? You’ve got me in the mood to do things I don’t normally do.” The irony of that statement certainly wasn’t lost on me.

  He put a hand on a nearby counter as if deliberately not putting it on me. “I hate to disappoint
you, but I haven’t done anything like that. I’m not exactly a nasty girl kind of guy.”

  Interesting. From everything I’d heard about him, I was led to believe he was. It sounded like he was actually closer to my tastes, someone who was down to earth and liked the simpler things. It really didn’t matter, though. I still had a job to do. There was no way I was going to get back in the car with Audric and see that look of disappointment like I’d let the family down.

  “So, nothing particularly steamy you want to say out loud?”

  He chuckled. “Are you feeling okay? Maybe it’s the heat. It’s a scorcher outside.”

  “I’m feeling the heat, all right.” I removed my hands and instead looped them underneath the front of his shirt, raking my fingertips along his chest. For a few precious seconds, his eyes closed, almost with a small fluttering of his eyelids. Progress.

  He tilted his head back. “Are you sure you…”

  “Yes,” I murmured, nuzzling my face forward against his chest. Now wasn’t the time to be shy. My family had only one chance at this.

  His hands responded first, wrapping around my waist in a move that brought us even further together. The strength in his hands gave me pause. I was right about what he was capable of. But that wasn’t to last as he removed one hand and cupped my chin, gently bringing it up to face him. He lowered his head down and kissed me.

  In a near identical reaction to last night, warmth flooded through me, and I had to remember how to breathe again, such an easy task normally but now I had to remind my lungs to expand. His drive continued forward, leading me to lean backward until my back touched the countertop. Corralled and nowhere to go from there, I’d awakened the beast inside.

  He leaned over and touched his lips to my neck, and they ravished the patch of skin there, occasionally nipping with his teeth. He varied his rhythm, going from hard to soft, chasing them with light kisses, with just a little bit of tongue at the end. I joined my hands up around his neck again, tugging him down into me.

  “That feels good,” I whispered. It truly did. I was expecting this all to be done in the name of duty, a grit-my-teeth-and-bear-it type situation, but I was pleasantly surprised. Maybe it had to do with the guys I’d kissed before and them having little idea what they were doing—most just wanted to skip straight to sex, which I’d denied every single one. At the time, I’d planned on saving myself for marriage, but as I stood there now in Gavin’s kitchen, clearly things had changed.