Undercover Princess

by Suzanne Brockmann

  “I’ve decided to get my nose pierced.”

  Trey nearly dropped his fork. “Like hell you will!”

  “I think that’s probably the kind of decision you really need to ponder for quite some time,” Katherine interjected smoothly. If she had been sitting closer to Trey, she would have given him a swift kick, but the dining room table was too big and she was too far away.

  The conversation had deteriorated right from the start, right from the raspberry sound Stacy had made when Trey mentioned there had been something in the newspaper about trouble at the shopping mall she liked to visit. Kids carrying guns, he’d told them. Stacy had rolled her eyes and made that extremely rude sound and Katherine had watched Trey grit his teeth.

  “She’ll have plenty of time to ponder this decision,” Trey returned. “As in five years. Because it’s not going to happen while she’s living in this house.”

  “Then maybe I should just leave!” Stacy stood up, and somehow managed to knock her glass of milk over.

  It was purely accidental, Katherine could see that. But Trey didn’t see the flare of embarrassed remorse in his daughter’s eyes. He only saw the staunch defiance it quickly transmuted into.

  “Don’t just stand there,” he ordered his daughter in exasperation. “Get something to mop it up with!”

  Doug kept his head lowered as Stacy got a towel from the kitchen and cleaned up the spill, her movements jerky with anger. Then, picking up her half-finished plate of food and her empty glass, she purposely looked at Katherine instead of Trey. “May I please be excused?”

  Doug jumped up, too, even though he’d eaten even less.

  Trey opened his mouth to speak, but Katherine beat him to it. “Yes,” she said. “You may. Both of you. Go on up to the playroom and finish your homework. I’ll be up in a bit.”

  As the door to the kitchen swung shut behind them, Trey sat back in his chair and rubbed his forehead and eyes.

  “Why do I do that?” he asked, tipping his head to look across the table at her. “I know she’s only trying to bait me, and I sit here and watch myself fall off this giant cliff of manipulation. I react exactly the way she wants me to react. But it gets to the point where I feel if I don’t say anything, I’m letting her get away with being incredibly rude.”

  Katherine didn’t know what to tell him.

  “You’re right about that anchoring thing, though,” he continued. He looked exhausted. “Both Stacy and I have forgotten how to simply sit in a room together without fighting.”

  Katherine turned to look at him. “Maybe that’s it.”

  “What?”

  She stood up. “I have an idea. Come with me.”

  The piano.

  It was in the rear parlor—the one Trey thought of as the piano room. He’d bought the enormous grand years ago, when he and Helena were fixing up the place, when they had lots of empty rooms to fill, when he’d had the first of a still continuing series of very, very good financial years.

  He’d bought the piano, and then business had continued to be so good, he never had time to play it.

  He looked at Kathy. She was so pleased with herself, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling, he had to smile. “You’re kidding, right?”

  She shook her head. “No, I most certainly am not. Didn’t you say you used to play? Stacy spends hours playing her clarinet every day, you know. It’s perfect. You and she can spend time together without having to utter a single word.” She opened up the piano bench, searching through the music there, coming up with his jazz fake book. “Ooh,” she said, flipping it open. “Was this yours?”

  “No.”

  She lifted an eyebrow as she glanced at him, completely suspicious. “Are you by any chance lying?”

  “Yes.”

  She set the music in the stand above the piano keys, closed the bench and patted it. “Sit, please.”

  He sat. Reluctantly. “Kathy, really, it’s been years since I’ve even—”

  She pointed to the music. “’Harlem Nocturne.’ Do you know it?”

  Trey looked at the notes and chords written out on the page and sighed. “Yeah.”

  “It’s been one of my favorite melodies since I was a little girl,” she said, settling into the smooth wooden curve of the piano’s body, leaning against the closed top with her elbows, chin propped in her hands as she faced him.

  “It’s been so long. I don’t know….” He touched the familiar silkiness of the keys lightly, not pressing down hard enough to make a sound. When he looked up, Kathy was watching him, her gray eyes so expectant and warm.

  God, he wanted her.

  His mouth went dry just looking at her. This afternoon, he’d nearly kissed her. He’d been completely blown away by the change in Dougie, and she’d reached for him. Just like that, she was in his arms, as soft and warm as he’d imagined.

  He’d lowered his head to kiss her, and in that fraction of a second before his mouth had claimed hers, he’d realized that while a hug had a variety of meanings and interpretations, a kiss was a kiss. While a boss could hug an employee, a kiss was an entirely different matter. A kiss could push them to a place he wasn’t sure either of them really wanted to go.

  So instead of kissing her, he’d insulted her by offering her a salary that should have made her sign a seven-year contract on the spot. Should have, but didn’t. He was still amazed.

  And he still wanted to kiss her.

  Badly.

  Tuesday night, they were going to get dressed up, and he was going to take her into town. How the hell was he going to keep his hands off her for all that time they’d spend alone in the limo?

  There was no way he could rescind his invitation. And even if he somehow could uninvite her, he didn’t want to do that.

  He was a sick bastard. He was sitting here dying, tied in a knot from desire. Yet he couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be.

  “There are some things you just never forget how to do,” she told him softly. “Play for me. Please?”

  How could he refuse when she asked that way? “Don’t laugh,” he said.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she murmured.

  Trey looked at her—he didn’t need the music. He just lost himself in her eyes as his fingers found the familiar keys.

  And as he watched her, Kathy cringed. The piano was terribly out of tune. It sounded like hell, the intervals and chords jarringly off, metallic-sounding in their weird dissonance. He stopped after only a few bars, embarrassed by how impossibly bad it sounded. “Sorry.”

  She was completely undaunted. “So we’ll get it tuned. It’s not your fault it sounds that way. Don’t stop. Please?”

  “What are you, some kind of masochist? That was terrible.”

  “Oh, no, Trey, the piano might have been out of tune, but your playing was beautiful.”

  “Cut the pop-psychology. I’m not six years old,” he told her with a laugh. She was his children’s nanny, not his. He didn’t need her Mary Poppins positive attitude. He should have been annoyed by it, but somehow he was only amused. “Look, I heard what it sounded like. I’m nearly as rusty as the piano.”

  “If that was rusty,” she enthused, “I can’t wait to hear you in a week or two.”

  He laughed at her relentless approval. And he laughed at himself as well, at his reaction to her unconcealed admiration. When she looked at him that way, he would do damn near anything she asked.

  Her smile widened. “This could work,” she insisted.

  “Yeah, like I’m ever going to be able to get Stacy into this room to play with me.”

  Kathy Wind was not afraid. “Leave that to me.”

  “New underwear.”

  Katherine gave Stacy a long, silent look.

  The girl shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant. “That’s my condition,” she said. “And it’s a deal breaker. I won’t go down to the piano room unless you take me to the mall and pick out some new underwear for you to wear Tuesday night when you go out on your
date with Trey.”

  “It’s not a date.”

  “I’ll let you pick out the dress,” Stacy said generously. “But you’ve got to let me choose the underwear.”

  Katherine sat down next to Stacy on her bed. “It’s important that you understand that Tuesday night is not a date. I’m doing your father a favor by going with him. That’s all.”

  And that was all. He didn’t see her as someone to date. She was someone to employ, at best. She didn’t need to remind herself of that.

  “I’m ready to shake on this,” Stacy said. “All you have to do is agree about the underwear and I’ll go down to the piano room and I won’t make any cracks about Trey’s choice of music.”

  “This is blackmail.”

  “It’s a business deal.”

  Katherine made up her mind. “You’ll go down to the piano room and play your clarinet with your father for at least thirty minutes every day from now until Christmas.”

  “Every day? There’s no way he’ll have time to do this every day.”

  “Yes,” she said, “he will. He truly wants the two of you to become friends again. It’s very important to him, Stacy.”

  “I don’t know.” Stacy was behaving as if she weren’t going to agree, but Katherine knew she would, knew she wanted to. She just couldn’t make it seem too easy.

  “That’s my condition,” Katherine told her. “It’s my deal breaker.”

  “For doing this every day,” Stacy said with a sniff, “I should get to pick out your dress for Tuesday night, too.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Okay, then…I also get to cook Thanksgiving dinner this year,” Stacy said. “I have complete control over the menu.”

  Katherine was thrilled. She’d been hoping Stacy would involve herself in the plans she and Doug had already been making. “Control of the main course,” she countered. “Doug and I are planning to bake pies on Wednesday night.”

  “So is it a deal?” Stacy asked. “Thanksgiving dinner and underwear?”

  “For that, you have to promise no complaining, no rude comments whatsoever, no mention of private body parts or anything else that might embarrass your father for all thirty of those minutes each day,” Katherine warned.

  Stacy thought about that, and nodded. “All right.”

  Katherine held out her hand. “Deal.”

  Stacy shook. “Deal.”

  Doug was in the playroom, talking to Poindexter.

  Trey stood in the doorway and just listened as his son told the dog the entire plot of Disney’s Aladdin. In detail, using little plastic action figures to act the story out. It was funny—as if now that Doug had started talking again, he was making up for lost time.

  Dex’s ears were up as he lay on the rug in front of the cold fireplace, looking for all the world as if he were hanging on Doug’s every word.

  “Hey, kiddo,” Trey said, stepping into the room when Doug stopped for a breath. “It’s a beautiful day. I bet Dex would love to lie in the sun in the courtyard. Why don’t you guys go outside?”

  Trey was scheduled to meet Stacy in the piano room in a matter of minutes. There was a probable chance that the next half hour was going to be loud and ugly. He wanted Doug out of the house. He knew how much it bothered him when Trey and Stacy fought.

  As boy and dog scrambled down the stairs, Trey followed more slowly.

  He was nervous—until he heard Kathy’s laughter coming from the open door to the piano room. He felt relieved, and then ashamed and a little angry that he couldn’t manage this on his own. He took a deep breath before stepping into the room, pushing the negative feelings out and away from himself, well aware that it wouldn’t do either Stacy or himself any good to go into this angry.

  “There you are,” Kathy said. Her smile lit up the entire room. It was impossible not to smile back.

  “Am I late?” He glanced at his daughter who was focused on the music on her music stand, her hair fallen forward to shield her face.

  “No, we were early,” Kathy reassured him. “The piano’s all tuned, so you’re ready to go. Here are the rules. Trey gets to pick the first song—”

  Stacy’s head came up. “He does?”

  “Age before beauty,” Kathy said calmly, “but you’re next. You’ll alternate. And whatever piece the other one picks—” she looked from Trey to Stacy “—no complaining. You smile and say, ‘This looks great.’ Come on, I want to hear you say it for me.”

  Trey couldn’t hide a smile as he looked at his daughter. “This looks great,” he intoned along with her. She must have been biting the insides of her cheeks and she had to hold her lips very oddly to keep from smiling, too.

  God forbid that she actually smile.

  “If you have to speak,” Kathy continued, so very seriously and earnestly, “you must say something nice to each other first. In fact, why don’t you start by doing that right now.”

  “Kathy, I don’t think this is necess—”

  “We should all get into the habit of doing it anyway.” She was the one who cut him off this time. “Saying something nice when you first see someone. I’ll start. Stacy, I thought it was wonderful the way you helped Anita carry the groceries in from her car this afternoon without anyone having to ask you. And, Trey, I think you must have the lovliest smile I’ve ever seen. Please feel free to use it more often.”

  Loveliest smile, huh?

  “Well, that’s lucky, because just seeing you…” He realized what he was saying might sound too personal, too intimate, and he included Stacy in his proclamation, “both of you, makes me smile.”

  “See how nice that feels?” Kathy said softly, smiling back into his eyes.

  It was insane. It was like lusting after Mr. Rogers. But every cell in his body was hyperaware of her. He wanted to bury himself in her sweetness and warmth. How the hell was he going to deal with this? Not by standing here like an idiot, smiling at her, that was for sure. But he couldn’t look away, couldn’t seem to stop.

  “Kathy, you are really going to look great in that sexy new underwear we bought you today.”

  Stacy’s words had the jarring, hair-raising, interruption-causing effect of a needle sliding off a phonograph record. Trey turned to look at his daughter, his mouth open, aware that Kathy had done the same.

  “Stacy! You promised you wouldn’t embarrass—”

  “Trey,” Stacy finished Kathy’s sentence. She looked at her father. “It doesn’t embarrass you to know that Kathy and I made a deal that in exchange for me coming here today, I got to pick out new underwear for her to wear with the dress she bought for your date Tuesday night, does it?”

  “It’s not a date!” Kathy said at the same time as Trey.

  “The dress is black,” Stacy told her father. “I managed to convince her to get the one that wasn’t a turtleneck. I think you’re going to like it. I picked out a WonderBra that’s going to make the dress look amazing, and matching thong panties—both in teal velvet.”

  “You can’t embarrass me,” Kathy told Stacy, but her cheeks were nearly crimson. “I refuse to be embarrassed.” She looked squarely at Trey. “It’s very nice underwear, but it’s nothing at all to be embarrassed about.”

  He had to clear his throat. “Well, sure,” he said. “Teal’s a pretty color.”

  God help him, teal velvet against the pale smoothness of Kathy’s skin. He wasn’t going to be able to think about anything else on Tuesday night. Hell, he wasn’t going to be able to think about anything else right now.

  “And it’s not as if anyone’s going to see it,” Kathy continued. She leaned closer and whispered something to Stacy.

  Stacy didn’t bother to lower her voice. “I did not break my promise. He’s not embarrassed. He’s fine about it.”

  “My underwear’s red today,” Trey told Kathy. “I figured Stacy was going to bring that up next, so I might as well beat her to the punch.”

  Kathy laughed, as he’d hoped she would.

  “Actuall
y, I was going to thank you for letting Doggie keep Poindexter.” Stacy turned her back to him. “I thought that was really great of you and I really respected the way you handled the whole situation.”

  She meant it. Trey knew she meant it, because she couldn’t manage to look him in the eye.

  And just like that the teal underwear was forgotten. Well, nearly forgotten.

  “Thanks for saying that, Stace,” he said quietly. “Knowing that you respect me means a lot.”

  Kathy started for the door. “I’ll let you guys get down to the music.”

  As the door closed behind Kathy, Trey put a B-flat lead chart on Stacy’s music stand. “I want to start with a song called ‘Stardust.’ It’s an old jazz standard that my father used to love.”

  “Gee,” Stacy said with a sigh. “Jazz, huh?” She sighed again. “This looks great.”

  Trey laughed as he sat down at the piano. And for just a second, he could have sworn he heard Stacy laughing, too.

  Chapter 11

  “May I have this dance?”

  Katherine had been watching the couples spinning across the spacious country club dance floor, but she now turned around to find herself gazing into a pair of chocolate-brown eyes. The owner of those eyes looked just enough like Jimmy Smits to actually make her consider saying yes.

  “Sorry, Hector.” Trey had returned from the bar carrying two long-stemmed wineglasses. “It would be poor form for Kathy to run off with you after I battled the horde at the bar to get her a glass of wine.”

  “Sutherland.” Hector’s smile was warm. “Nice speech tonight. Short and sweet. Bill would’ve been proud.”

  Katherine’s attention was on Hector even as she thanked Trey for the glass of wine. “Do you know Bill Lewis well?” she asked him. She could feel Trey’s eyes on her. “I’m just…I find it odd that he didn’t appear in person to accept such a high honor.”

  “Bill isn’t much for convention,” Hector told her. “And yeah, I know him pretty well. We’ve been friends since college.”

  She wanted to ask him more questions about Bill, but Trey was still watching her. He would begin to wonder what was going on if she suddenly started quizzing Hector like an investigative reporter.