Page 15 of Undercover Billionaire

He moved closer. "My wardrobe."

"What about it?" Thus far his clothing had been acceptable, or even above what she’d expected. It was the one thing that had gone right. "I assume you brought appropriate attire."

"Actually, I didn’t bring any attire," he replied calmly. "What you saw yesterday and today, that's it."

Stay calm. One… two…three…Nope.“How could you come to a multi-day acting position with only one change of clothes? Cynthia is bound to start noticing very, very quickly.”

"I didn’t plan it this way." He shrugged. "Let’s just say the thunderstorm complicated matters. Don’t worry, I can grab some clothing from the local store. I’ll see you tonight."

Don’t worry?The acting company specified all character-related expenses would be hers, and this certainly qualified. Calculating her income for the month, she cringed. They would definitely have to be tight on what they bought. Which meant she was going on a little shopping spree.

"You don’t have to wait for me." The actor donned his coat. "I can lock the door from the inside."

She gritted her teeth. "I’m coming with you. And–" she cut off his impending response, "I don’t want to hear a word. Got it?"

Drake smiled, but said nothing.

Kaitlyn had never riddenin a Porsche before, but even she could appreciate the marriage of comfort and racecar-like agility. The inside was sleek and smooth, with gleaming controls and plush butter seats, the perfect foil to the scenery racing outside the tinted windows. Suspicion soon tempered the pleasure, however, as pedestrians stopped to stare at the car, and other drivers gave them second and third looks. How could an actor-for-hire afford a luxury vehicle? She couldn’t ask… or could she? "This is a classy car," she said lightly. "Most of your clients must be wealthier than me."

He gave a short nod, yet said nothing, as the seconds stretched. Clearly, he had no plans to elaborate. Time to try again. "I don’t know a great deal about sports cars," she remarked. "What year is this?"

This time he did speak, but only to directly answer her question. "It’s this year. Brand new."

Her curiosity soared, but she couldn’t find out more without blatantly asking personal questions. Only she didn’t have to. "The company arranged for me to have it," he offered with a wry glance. "It’s not mine."

Of course – the company. It didn’t make sense for it to be his, and it wasn’t. Strange they would give him such an expensive car, but then again they were a full service firm. Of course, he was only here for a week.

And suddenly a week seemed like a very short time indeed.

She almost missed the turn-off for the store. At the last minute, she pointed towards a small one-story building off the side of the road, and Drake snapped to turn the wheel. He gave the shop a dubious glance as he pulled into a gravel parking lot and glided to a halt. "This is the source of my new wardrobe?"

Kaitlyn wasn’t surprised by his attitude. Newcomers to town were often fooled by the simple veneer of the "Greenfield Clothing Store." No larger than her apartment, the quaint white villa featured soft wood paneling, green shutters and a long wraparound porch. A small sign gave the only indication it was more than a family home, which it had been for over a century beforehand. Now it housed rows upon rows of clothing, packed impossibly yet impeccably in the meager space, run by the best seamstress in three counties. At least that’s what Kaitlyn and the residents of Greenfield knew. From the skeptical look of her shopping companion, he clearly didn’t feel the same way.

He would discover that soon enough, likely within thirty seconds of meeting the eccentric Miss Ida Lane, but now an opportunity beckoned. And as a successful entrepreneur, she couldn't let an opportunity slip by. "You don’t think you’re going to find anything?"

Drake remained silent as he exited the car and opened her door, but his thoughts were obvious. "It isn’t quite what I expected, but that’s all right." His tone was cordial as he stepped toward the store. “I’ll make do.”

"It doesn’t meet your standards?" she persisted, making no move to follow her partner’s footsteps.

He turned around, chuckling lightly. "It’s all or nothing, is it?" A genuine smile softened his strong features. "Okay, then." He looked again towards the small villa. "No, I honestly don’t think I’m going to find anything. I was thinking more of a mall or department store. The Greenfield Clothing Store is probably not going to have my style."

Kaitlyn didn’t mention that Miss Ida developed stylesbeforethey emerged in the exclusive catalogs. Instead, she prepared for checkmate. "Would you care to make a friendly wager on that?" she asked innocently.

Drake’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. His instincts were too good. Now she stood as tall as she could. "Unless you’re worried you’re going to lose."

He straightened, a predatory gleam darkening his expression. "I never lose." It was a simple statement of fact, an assertion, which always came true. Or so he thought. "What are the terms?"

The terms. Here it was – a veritable gold mine. A bet she could not lose, now what to ask for? An uninvited image raced through her mind, of exactly what she would like to do with this man, and what she would like this man to do toher. Pushing that image away, she offered the next best thing, "If you find an entire closetful of clothes, then I win. If you don’t find anything or even if you select just a few things, you win. And the winner.... the winner..."

"The winner gets to make plans for tonight."

Make plans for the night? It wasn’t a bad idea. There were some things he wouldn’t go along with unless he had to. "All right," she agreed. "That's an acceptable wager, however we need rules."

"Like I can’t decide our plans will consist of me taking you back to your place and..."

"Don’t you dare."Even if it was exactly what she wanted.She cleared her throat. "It has to be completely G-rated."

"G-rated? Not even PG?" Bemusement betrayed his disappointment. "All right," he agreed, "G-rated it is. But all I was going to say was..."

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