Page 33 of Undercover Billionaire

“It’s going to be all right.” He placed a firm hand on her shoulder. The touch was warm and possessive, and unexpectantly comforting. "We’ll figure it out.”

"How?" She grasped him tighter. He didn't have the decency to flinch. "This is my family. People I actually care about." She shuddered, threading air through a tight throat. "What am I going to do?" she rasped.

“All will be well.” He edged closer, rubbing up and down her arms, even now eliciting Goose bumps. "We will follow the plan and pretend we’re a couple. It’s not that far from the truth."

Her breath hitched at the presumption, yet somehow a denial wouldn’t form. She pressed forward, "I don’t mind lying to Cynthia, but how can I deceive my parents? Only how can I admit the truth?"

Drake’s gaze focused as a sharp knock shook the door. "It’s your decision. We can stop now and admit you made it up. Or we can proceed for a few days. Remember, it won’t be completely lying since thereissomething between us."

What calamity to respond to first: the decision about her family or his assuming statement? The next knock, the loudest one yet, signaled only seconds to decide before her brothers broke down the door.

Then, suddenly, the path became clear. She would go through with it. Although her family might eventually learn of her deception, they would never stop meddling if they discovered the truth now. "Let’s do this."

Admiration tinted Drake’s eyes. "Sounds good, boss." He did not hesitate as he flung open the door to a crowd of stunned relatives, focused on the man who commanded all attention. Her mother stood up front, pretty and petite, her intelligent blue eyes flush with curiosity and care. Next to her, Kaitlyn’s well-built father loomed, glaring fierce protectiveness. Her two older brothers, larger than her father and even more protective, stood on either side, wearing dark trousers and shirts that showed off the muscles they’d happily use to protect their little sister.

In the middle of it all stood Cynthia, of average height, with tight black curls, deep brown eyes and a small, upturned nose, brimming with smug satisfaction barely hidden behind false concern. She was the first to speak. "What in the world is going on here?"

Kaitlyn opened her mouth, poised with a long and imaginative excuse, but Drake was quicker. "Cynthia." As the woman froze in astonishment, he smiled with his signature charm. "I’m so glad to finally meet you. This is a wonderful surprise."

"A surprise is right." Her father's expression darkened to a stormy gray. "We weren’t expecting to get the door slammed on us.”

Kaitlyn stiffened like a fresh corpse. Why had she thought this would work? Perhaps it was best if she came clean now and avoided any further humiliation.

Drake frowned, as if sensing her wavering conviction. As her family shuffled in, he leaned down and whispered, "At least we know who’s stronger now."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Since you’ve obviously given up, it proves I'm more powerful."

His attempt at manipulation was obvious, yet anger brought newfound conviction. Perhaps the plan had a spark of life left after all. "Mom, Dad, everyone, I’d like you to meet Drake Alexander, my boyfriend."

It was as if someone pressed the pause button on reality. All movement stilled, her family stared and silence ruled. A hundred messages cut the tension thick in the air, as everyone regarded her would be paramour.

Well, that could have gone better.

Drake hit resume. "This must come as a surprise. We wanted to wait until we were sure before we told you."

"Sure of what?" Her father’s eagle-sharp gaze speared Drake. "Sure you could afford a shirt?"

Drake wasn’t at all disconcerted. "My apologies, sir. I just came out of bed and wasn't expecting guests. I meant sure Kaitlyn and I were serious about the relationship." He focused his world-class smolder directly on her, engulfing her in fiery heat. How could he seem so sincere, soreal?

What if it wasn't pretend?

"We didn’t want raise your hopes,” Drake continued mildly, as if he wasn’t ravaging her senses. “You know how independent Kaitlyn is."

"Don't I ever," her father grumbled. “How did you meet my daughter?”

Before Drake could reply, her mother broke in, "Stop interrogating the man, George. Any friend of our daughter is a friend of ours." She held out her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Drake. I’m Judy Owens, Kaitlyn’s mother."

"I'm Craig." The eldest of her two brothers inclined his head. "I'm glad to meet you and eager to find out more." His protective expression hinted at the type of details he meant, yet still his tone was softer.

Kaitlyn took a deep breath. So far so good. Her family appeared to accept him, at least for now, and had yet to call the FBI, CIA or mafia. If they could put on a convincing performance, they had a chance of making this work.

"I'm Jesse." Her dark-haired brother stepped forward and shook Drake’s hand in a strong grasp. "I'm a second-degree black belt."

"Jesse!" Kaitlyn admonished.

"Just sharing, sis." Her brother shrugged.

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