Page 48 of Legal Seduction
Chapter Thirteen
“WHATTHEHELLare you doing?” Bette demanded to know, and like he’d done the day he’d caught her in his office after hours, she had to ask him twice.
But he still didn’t know how to answer her. Heat rushed to his face with embarrassment that he’d been caught snooping. He’d wanted to know what the hell she’d hidden in her closet. He’d noticed the clothes knocked askew on the bottom rack, and he’d reached behind to find what she’d stashed there.
It wasn’t a man but a sketch pad. She had a portfolio full of them. Then he’d found the box of lingerie, which he was on his knees leaning over at the moment. And he understood that all those sexy outfits weren’t gifts from a married lover or from any lover at all. Next to the box, he’d found a sewing machine and some reams of lace and silk. And he’d figured out what her big secret was and it wasn’t selling any of Street Legal’s secrets.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked.
Her face flushed a bright red that nearly matched the color of the corset he held in his hands. “I don’t have to tell you why I’m quitting,” she said. “Even your employment contract states that.”
“I know,” he said. “You didn’t have to tell me. But why wouldn’t you?” Was she ashamed of what she did, because of her upbringing?
Her face flushed an even deeper shade of red. “You would have laughed.”
That wasn’t the reply he’d expected. “What? Why would you think that?”
“Boring Bette Monroe designing lingerie?” She uttered a short chuckle of her own, but it was full of bitterness. “Even I think that’s funny.”
He was more confused now than when he’d discovered her secret. “Why in the hell do you think you’re boring?”
She snorted. “Come on, you thought that, too—the past two years.”
His face heated a bit, and he had to admit that he had. But in his defense, he explained, “I was going off the way you pull your hair into such a tight bun and how you dress. I had no idea what you’ve been wearing under your clothes this entire time.” He held up a handful of the lingerie. But even then he’d still been attracted to her; he’d seen her beauty no matter how hard she’d tried to hide it.
“Why do you dress that way?” he asked. “Why do you wear your hair that way? And the glasses, I don’t even think you need them.” He stepped closer to her. “What are you hiding from, Bette?”
She took the lingerie from his hand, but she wouldn’t answer his question.
“Are you hiding from me?” he asked.
“Given your reputation, I thought it was a good idea to dress a little more conservatively than I used to,” she said.
He flinched as a twinge of pain struck his heart. “You were afraid of me? Afraid that I’d force myself on you?”
Then he glanced down and saw that, in her hand not full of lingerie, she clutched a canister of Mace. He sighed. “I guess you are afraid of me.”
“I thought you left,” she said. “I didn’t know who was in my closet. I can’t believe you’ve been snooping through my stuff.”
“I knew you were hiding something,” he said. He’d thought she’d been hiding the evidence that she was the mole. But she wasn’t. And he was so relieved that he laughed.
Anger flashed in her eyes. “See, I told you that you’d laugh at me!” She threw the lingerie at him and stomped back into the bedroom.
He rushed after her so quickly that he was still knocking G-strings off his shoulders as he joined her near the bed. “Guess I should be glad you didn’t mace me.”
“I almost did,” she said. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For scaring me or for snooping?” she challenged him.
“For scaring you,” he admitted.
He’d hoped she would sleep through his search. And that he would be able to slip back into bed with her before she’d even noticed he’d left it. He hadn’t wanted to. She’d felt so warm and soft and somehow comforting sleeping in his arms, her head against his chest.
“You’re not sorry for snooping,” she said with disgust.
He was unapologetic. “I had to find out the truth.”
