Page 18 of Undercover Billionaire

She cleared her throat, tearing her gaze away. "You already know the type of guy I want. Both in real life and for this part."

He stood up and the shirt loosened, as black jeans molded to muscular thighs. "I don't think you mean that."

Kaitlyn pulled herself up taller. "Excuse me?"

"I don't think you really want a man like that. Well, maybe for this role, but not in real life. You want a real man, even if you don't realize it."

"I never said I didn't want a real man. I just don't want a macho, aggressive, he-man of a–"

"I know, a tyrant," Drake broke in. "But you're a strong woman and you need a strong man.”

"Why? To order me about?" That was exactly what she didn’t want. "Tell me what to do?"

"Actually, I was thinking of something else."

Kaitlyn froze as a thousand images filled in the blanks. To touch her, kiss her,domoreto her. She bit back a shiver as Drake’s eyes turned as intense as the images seizing her mind. "Actually, I was going to say match you, but it seems like you've come up with your own conclusions."

"You don’t know what I’m thinking," she snapped.

His challenging gaze belied every word, as he stayed still a moment more, before striding back to the dressing room. Just before the curtain closed, he called out, "Actually, I do."

No doubt.

For the next hour and a half, Drake tried on a dozen outfits, and she couldn’t disguise her reaction a dozen times. Each was more attractive than the last, emphasizing Drake’s gorgeous features and towering form. By the end of the fashion show, he had eight new looks ranging from casual to formal, and everything in between.

"This should be more than enough." Drake hefted four bags filled with clothing as they waited for Ida to ring up the order. "I found plenty of suitable clothing."

Kaitlyn had a different term for those tight jeans. "Yes, quite suitable."

"Four hundred and sixty-eight dollars." Miss Ida looked at her expectantly.

Four hundred and sixty-eight dollars?Kaitlyn stared at the elderly woman. Mentally calculating the droves of clothing he selected, not only was the price correct, but a fair deal. Yet that wouldn’t appease her already strained budget. She hadn’t a choice, of course, as she retrieved her wallet.

"Do you take credit cards?"

Kaitlyn looked up to find Drake holding a shining platinum card. "What are you doing?’

"Paying for the clothes." Drake handed the card to Miss Ida. “I can’t believe how much I got for so little.”

Almost $500 was little?"But aren't I responsible for all expenses?" As much as she didn’t want to spend four hundred plus dollars, she had agreed to the terms of the contract, and she intended to honor them. "I don’t want you paying for something that’s my responsibility."

"This isn’t your responsibility." Drake took his card back after Miss Ida swiped it. "I was supposed to come prepared, but the storm changed everything. Besides I could use the clothing."

His explanation sounded logical, but still something didn't ring true. How had the storm misplaced his clothes? Plus, how could an actor-for-hire afford to spend almost $500 without a second thought? "Hey, wait a second," Kaitlyn called as Drake signed the receipt, hunching over it as if hiding something. She peered around him. "Let’s at least split it.”

"Too late." Drake handed the receipt back to Miss Ida. "It’s already done."

"I don’t feel right about this." She took some bills out of her purse. "Here's part of it. I'll give you the rest later."

Drake looked down at the money, and, as if sensing he couldn't win this battle, pocketed it. "Ready to go?"

"Absolutely." Mollified, Kaitlyn turned back to the elderly shopkeeper. "Goodbye, Miss Ida. Thank you."

"Goodbye, Kaitlyn," the Miss Ida replied. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Drake."

"Mr. Drake? No, Drake is his first n–" Kaitlyn turned to correct the woman, but Drake swiftly took her arm and led her out of the building.

"Come on. We have a lot to do."

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