The Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress

by Kimberly Lang

  And good feelings were much needed. Expanding HarCorp’s distribution of its luxury items into Asian markets had been his personal goal for the company for the last three years.

  HarCorp’s background was tied in Texas cattle, but the Harrison family didn’t have ranch roots. His great-grandfather opened one of the first tanneries in the area, providing leather to the saddle and boot makers. When the demand for saddles waned, Harrison Tannery changed its name and began supplying leather to the automakers and eventually began supplying leather overseas as well.

  The Luxury Goods arm of HarCorp had been a special project of Will’s since he joined the family business. He’d championed it when the entire board had tried to nix the idea. It wasn’t until his father retired that he was able to give it the attention it deserved, but Luxury Goods now showed a larger profit than any other department, and the naysayers were off his back. Now that Harrison Leathers had made a name for itself providing unique, high-quality items, it was time to expand their reach to the newly affluent Asian countries and their growing upper classes. Kiesuke Hiramine was his way into that market. The meeting scheduled for next month would be the make-or-break moment of three years’ hard work.

  “Konichiwa,” he tried again. “Dochirahe.”

  The intercom on his desk beeped. “Mr. Harrison, are you ready for me now?”

  He glanced at his watch. Three-thirty already, and past time for his daily meeting with his assistant. “Come on in, Nancy.”

  One second later, Nancy knocked sharply on his door and entered. With her usual efficiency—and he paid her handsomely for it—she went through his calendar and schedule for the immediate future as he signed the stack of papers she laid on his desk.

  “Finally Dallas Lifestyles would like to know if you can schedule an interview and photo shoot.”

  A snort escaped at the mention of the magazine. Four-color gossip on glossy paper was still trash, no matter how the magazine tried to promote itself as something other than a gossip rag. He looked up from the contract he was initialing to see the corner of Nancy’s mouth twitching in amusement. “Why on earth would I do that?”

  Nancy feigned a look of innocence. “It’s part of the whole ‘Dallas’s Most Eligible’ package. Each Bachelor gets a spread. You’re the only one left—are you sure you don’t want to schedule?”

  “Has hell frozen over yet?” That’s all he needed: more encouragement for the fortune-hunting women out there on the dating circuit. Like he didn’t have enough on his plate already between running HarCorp and raising Evie. Even if he had the inclination, he certainly didn’t have the time.

  “That’s what I thought. But I told them I’d ask anyway. Maybe they’ll quit calling now,” she grumbled.

  “We can hope, right?”

  Nancy shrugged as she collected the now-signed papers from his desk. Knowing they were finished, Will turned back to his computer and clicked the file on Japanese business etiquette open again. He needed to figure out this bowing thing.

  “Anything else I can do for you?”

  He laughed but didn’t take his eyes off the screen. “Yeah. Find me a Japanese expert to run my meeting.”

  His intercom on his desk beeped, meaning the lobby receptionist wanted to put a call directly through—which meant the call was either from Evie or Marcus. Nancy left as he answered.

  “Hi, Will. I’m sorry to bother you.”

  Hearing Gwen’s voice caught him off-guard. Jewel, the executive receptionist, must have been told something about their situation in order for Gwen to get connected to him directly. He hadn’t thought about doing it, but Nancy obviously had.

  “It’s no bother.” Surprisingly he meant that. “Is everything all right?”

  “Oh, yes. Everything’s fine. Marcus Heatherton called Evie today to say he’ll be here for dinner tonight.”

  He’d forgotten about that. “I guess I should have warned you. Marcus is checking up on us.”

  “On me, you mean.” He could hear the smile in her voice. Gwen was sharp.

  “How’d you know?”

  “After everything Evie’s told me, I’m surprised he’s waited this long.” She sounded amused at the situation, which surprised him. Marcus was well-known, and it wasn’t for his laid-back outlook on life. Surely Gwen had at least heard of him in dealing with her debutantes.

  His computer beeped, signaling an incoming e-mail. He glanced at the message and shot back a quick response.

  “Mrs. Gray, however, is all atwitter. Something about Mr. Heatherton being impossible to please.”

  “Oh, well, there was that one night when the meat was a little tough…”

  “So, it’s going to be an interesting evening then.” Gwen chuckled conspiratorially, and the sound was infectious. He liked this side of her. Gwen still seemed tense whenever he was around, and this was one of the few times he’d felt her loosening up.

  “Oh, definitely.”

  “Actually I wanted to tell you that Mr. Heatherton plans to arrive around six-thirty. I’m hoping you’ll be able to make it home a bit earlier tonight. I think he’s eager to see you.”

  That comment brought a full-out laugh. “You have heard of Marcus. Don’t worry. I’ll be home in plenty of time to run interference for you.”

  “That’s not what I was implying—”

  “Yes it was.” This was fun. How long had it been since he’d had an enjoyable and somewhat normal conversation with a woman? Years, possibly. He eased back in his chair and propped his feet on the desk. “Marcus will be nothing if not impressed by you—what you’ve done with Evie, that is.”

  “I hope. Evie’s a bit nervous. You did tell her she wasn’t going to be sent to boarding school, right?”

  “Yep.” His e-mail beeped again, and he glanced at the subject line. As much as he was enjoying the conversation, it was time to get back to it. “Anything else I can do for you—short of uninviting Marcus to dinner?”

  “Actually there is one more thing. You mentioned before that you wanted me to help Evie with her wardrobe. I’ll be taking her to Neiman Marcus tomorrow.”

  Money. Of course. Everything in his life always came back to money. His money. Not that he minded spending it on Evie, but Gwen bringing it up had kind of dampened the mood. For a moment there, he’d forgotten he’d bought her time and attention. Her attention to Evie, he meant. “I’ll take care of it. Anything else?”

  “Guess not. We’ll see you tonight.” He heard Evie’s voice in the background then Gwen’s muffled voice as she placed a hand over the phone to answer her. “Oh, Will?”

  His intercom was beeping. He didn’t have time for this. “Yes?”

  “Evie says not to be late. Mr. Heatherton frowns on tardiness, and it would be rude.” That restrained laughter in her voice snared him again.

  “Tell Evie I said she has to wear a dress.” He waited as Gwen relayed the message and heard Evie’s wail in response. The intercom’s beeping got more insistent. “I have to go. I’ll see you tonight.”

  He switched to the intercom line to find Nancy waiting impatiently. “Mr. Hiramine’s assistant is on line three.”

  “Great. Tamishi, right?”

  “No, Takeshi.”

  “Thanks. And tell Davis to just e-mail the sales figures. I have dinner arrangements with Marcus tonight, and I’ll look them over at home. I’ll be leaving early today.”

  Nancy’s surprise registered, but he didn’t have time to explain further.

  “Konichiwa, Takeshi.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “PAUL ANGERON tells me your backhand is showing great improvement, Evangeline.” Marcus Heatherton wiped his small white beard with a monogrammed napkin and leveled a proud smile at Evie.

  Evie brightened as she launched into a spirited rendition of the former Wimbledon winner’s description of her tennis prowess. Gwen lowered her eyes to the table and hid a smile of her own. Evie had Mr. Heatherton eating out of the palm of her hand. A quick glance at Will an
d his half smile confirmed her thought.

  Mrs. Gray had pulled out all the stops for dinner—once she’d finished grumbling, at least. Although the courses were uncomplicated, the food was plated beautifully on gold-rimmed china. The cream linen and the gleaming crystal seemed a bit over the top for a family dinner of salmon and potatoes, but Mrs. Gray had insisted Evie needed the full effect for this evening.

  All of Evie’s worries that Mr. Heatherton would find something wrong with her manners seemed to have evaporated. Although she still dominated the conversation a bit more than was correct, she hadn’t interrupted anyone and proved she could tell an entertaining story for her guests.

  No question about it. Evie was going to be fine.

  Will’s laugh brought her back to the conversation, and she wondered what she’d missed with her woolgathering. Some etiquette tutor she was—mentally wandering away from a conversation was plain rude and she knew better. If only the Harrisons didn’t give her so much to think about.

  With Evie, she had an excuse—it was her job to correct, encourage, evaluate and decide what step was next in the run up to Evie’s presence at the Hospital Med Ball. As for Will…well, she had no excuse other than her own unusual fascination with the man. In some ways, he was exactly the man she’d expected—businesslike, busy and often distant. More often than not, she found herself unsure of what to say or do when around him. Plus, she couldn’t decide if his occasional rudeness and incessant BlackBerry usage was deliberate or not.

  Regardless, she even found it difficult to follow her cardinal rule of “maintain eye contact,” because staring into Will Harrison’s eyes could turn any woman into brain-dead mush. And if he smiled…Lord, the man should carry a warning label. Plus he could also be kind and funny and completely approachable at times. Like when…

  “Gwen?”

  She looked up to see everyone watching her. Mr. Heatherton’s frown had returned at her inattention. Evie stared at her openly in mild shock, and Gwen could practically hear her own lecture about attentiveness to others replaying in Evie’s head. Will simply looked amused for some reason. She cleared her throat as she felt her cheeks heat. “I’m so sorry. I was thinking about Evie’s shopping trip tomorrow.”

  “Gwen’s sister is a buyer at Neiman Marcus. We’ll be getting my wardrobe up to scratch. What color dress do you think would be most appropriate for the Med Ball, Uncle Marcus?”

  “White or pastels, my dear. You’re much too young for anything else. And remember who you are—avoid anything flashy…”

  She could kiss Evie for that save. Whatever question Mr. Heatherton had asked her was forgotten as he launched into a lecture on the horrid state of formal wear for young women. Evie was doing an admirable job of hanging on every word like he was the Fashion Oracle of Dallas.

  Hearing a small snort of laughter from her right, Gwen looked over to see Will pretending to study his meal carefully. Without making eye contact, he leaned slightly toward her and whispered, “Tsk, tsk, Miss Behavior.”

  Buttering her roll kept her from winging it in Will’s direction. Instead she waited until Will looked her way and winked at him. His eyebrows went up in surprise then, to her surprise, she felt his foot nudge hers under the table.

  She nudged his foot in response, but Will had focused his attention on Marcus and seemed engrossed in his lecture on the importance of a modest neckline.

  When Evie nudged her foot from the other side, Gwen’s head snapped in her direction only to feel Will’s foot reach over hers to nudge Evie’s. She almost laughed out loud. Both Harrisons wore looks of absorbed interest on their faces while they kicked each other under the table like children.

  Who knew Will Harrison could be playful enough to foot-fight with his sister under the dinner table? For the sake of Evie’s education, she should put a stop to it, but there was no real harm. Marcus seemed completely unaware.

  Another nudge from Will. This time Gwen retaliated more forcefully, only to miss her target and connect with the center table leg instead. Glassware rattled, and Marcus paused midsentence.

  Oh, no. The heat returned to her cheeks.

  “Sorry, everyone.” Will covered for her smoothly, earning him a frown from Marcus and Gwen’s eternal gratitude.

  This was just dandy. She could hear her mother’s voice chiding her for her behavior. Enough was enough. Time for her to remember she was a grown-up and act like one.

  She cleared her throat. “Mr. Heatherton, will you be attending the Med Ball this year?”

  “Of course, my dear. I try to attend every year, if only to put in an appearance. This year, however, it will be my pleasure to introduce Bradley’s beautiful daughter to friends of the family.” He patted Evie’s hand fondly.

  Evie beamed at the indirect acknowledgment of her social skills, but Marcus moved on.

  “And you, William, will you be escorting Grace Myerly?”

  Evie’s eyes were as wide as Gwen’s felt as they both looked at Will, who seemed to be having difficulty swallowing his salmon all of a sudden. Gwen thought she was up-to-date on all the society doings just by listening to her debs’ conversations, but she didn’t recall hearing Will’s name connected to the great paragon Grace Myerly before.

  “No, Grace and I aren’t seeing each other any longer.”

  “That’s a shame. You made such a lovely couple, and your families go way back.”

  She was still processing the Will and Grace connection when Mr. Heatherton turned his attention to her.

  “Gwen, you know the Myerly family don’t you?”

  Gwen sat up straight. “Yes, I do. Not socially, of course, but both of the younger Myerly girls were in my debutante classes several years ago.”

  “Of course. Lovely girls, both of them.”

  If you say so. Personally Gwen felt the youngest Myerlys were spoiled, self-absorbed brats who’d made her classes hell for all involved. The older Myerlys hadn’t helped the situation with their own self-important attitude. She was glad there weren’t any other Myerly children at home ready to debut.

  She nodded instead. “I haven’t met Grace before, although I do know who she is.” Everyone knew Grace Myerly. The woman was constantly in the papers for her charity work and her fabulous parties. Tall, willowy, gorgeous and seemingly gracious, she was the epitome of Southern high class and, by all standards, the perfect type of woman for Will.

  Something unpleasant coiled in her stomach.

  “Why don’t you take Gwen, Will?” Evie piped up with that idea, sending Marcus’s fork clattering to his plate. Will froze, his eyes locking on Gwen’s face with a “Fix This” look, but she was too busy choking on her wine to do anything.

  Evie, however, was oblivious to the change in atmosphere. “That way, Gwen can help keep me from messing up, and you won’t have to deal with—what did you call it?—‘the desperate cling of ageing socialites.’” When no one spoke, Evie looked at each face closely. “What? What’s the problem?”

  Evie looked genuinely confused. Will wanted to help, but wasn’t sure he knew where to start. Marcus looked horrified, and Will knew at any moment Marcus would say something snobbish or classist and make the situation worse.

  The grandfather clock in the hallway ticked in the silence as tears gathered in the corners of Evie’s eyes because she didn’t understand the currents swirling around her.

  Gwen recovered first and placed her hand over Evie’s. Will remembered that look on her face from their first meeting—the moment had passed and Gwen was back in charge. She’d know exactly the right thing to say.

  He couldn’t wait to hear it.

  “Evie, honey, it’s not appropriate to ask one person to ask another person to a social function like that. It puts everyone in an uncomfortable situation.” Gwen’s voice was gentle, with no trace of censure. “It puts Will in the position of asking me or risk insulting me or hurting my feelings, when he may have someone else in mind to ask. I take the risk of hurting his feelings if I hav
e to say ‘no’ for whatever reason, plus it’s embarrassing for the people involved to have such personal matters discussed in front of others. Understand?”

  Evie nodded.

  Bravo, Gwen.

  “Remember, one of the most important purposes of etiquette is to make everyone feel comfortable and at ease. Quizzing people about their dating habits or trying to fix them up on a date never makes anyone feel at ease.”

  And that reminder was for you, Marcus. Score two points for Miss Behavior. Hopefully Marcus wouldn’t bring up the topic of Grace Myerly again. It was only luck this time that sidetracked the conversation before Marcus had Will and Grace combining HarCorp and Myerly Cattle into one large family empire. Marcus and Peter Myerly had been pushing shallow, bubbleheaded Grace at him since Grace’s debut.

  If Gwen had intended that remark for Marcus however, she didn’t show it. She seemed fully focused on Evie.

  As Evie opened her mouth to say something more, Gwen’s expression changed from one of cool calm to an unmistakable “We’ll discuss this later.” Evie nodded again in understanding, then turned her mother’s megawatt smile on everyone.

  “I see, and I’m very sorry if I made you all uncomfortable.”

  Gwen adeptly steered the conversation in a new direction, and the moment seemed forgotten. Marcus was soon pontificating on something—Will lost the thread quickly—and Evie and Gwen nodded in all the right places.

  A weight lifted from his shoulders. Gwen was a godsend. Marcus was pleased. Evie was a new person—in three days, Gwen had not only improved her manners exponentially, but Evie seemed to be smiling more. For the first time in weeks, he really felt like this whole situation would work out. Nancy would be getting a nice surprise in her next paycheck for delivering Miss Behavior to his front door.

  As Mrs. Gray served dessert and coffee, he nudged Gwen’s foot under the table again, and smiled his thanks. Gwen seemed to understand.

  His BlackBerry chirped, indicating an e-mail. Probably Davis’s sales report finally arriving. He fished it out of his pocket to check.