Page 32 of Undercover Billionaire

“Cynthia.”

Chapter 8

"Cynthia?" Drake stared. "She wasn’t supposed to arrive until tonight."

“She always liked surprises.” Kaitlyn rubbed sweaty hands against an ice-cold face, a painful juxtaposition of sweltering and freezing, mired in perfect chaos. This couldn't be happening. It was too soon – they’d never be able to pull off the ruse without another day to prepare. "Maybe we can pretend we’re not home."

"Nonsense. This is perfect." Before she could protest, he straightened, smoothed himself down and… stepped to the door.

Oh no.She raced in front of him. “What are you doing?” Her demand tangled with the intensifying banging. It was the antithesis of perfect, a disaster with the power to destroy all.

His mild expression belied the calamity. "Now you have to agree to my proposal."

Why that little–

She glared.

He winked.

She growled.

He grinned.

“You underhanded, sly, devious and… and…”

“Successful man?” he supplied.

“Ugh!” She gripped his naked arms, totally ignored the hard muscle underneath (That was a lie). “You can’t do this.”

He leaned down, his hot breath fanning her neck, eliciting more urges she totally ignored (That was another lie). If she moved just a little closer–

“Is that a yes?” he breathed.

She closed heavy eyes, opened them to a predator poised for victory. "Fine!"

He ducked out of the room before she could say another word. She ran after him, nearly slamming into his colossal form as he reached the door. She braced against the broad muscles of his back, as the jeans slid lower. He pulled them up (quite inconsiderate), turned the lock and…

"Wait!" She grabbed his hand. "You can’t answer the door like that."

"Why not?" Drake kept his hand on the handle, but ceased his motion. “What’s the matter?”

"It’s inappropriate." She gestured to his scant ensemble, expansive chest, barely-coveredeverything. "You're not decent."

He shrugged. "It's not decent showing up this time in the morning. Besides, this is the perfect cover for our ruse. What else would two lovers do but spend the entire night making love? If we hadn't done it for real, we probably would have made it up. Relax," he soothed. "It’s not as if I’m meeting your parents."

She exhaled. Meeting Cynthia after a night of passionate lovemaking would be a convincing first act to the play. Commanding herself to calm, she straightened. The stage fright would have to wait. It was show time. “All right. I’m ready.”

With an approving smile, Drake nodded. Time ticked in slow motion as he turned the handle, then slowly, slowly, slowly opened the front door, revealing the expected surprise. Cynthia wore an unpleasant smile and a chic banana pantsuit that would have been more appropriate at a party cruise than an early morning visit to her cousin. Ostentatious and gaudy, with an air of malevolent triumph, it was not nearly as blinding as the sight behind her.

For she was not alone.

The entirety of Kaitlyn’s immediate family – her mother, father and two brothers – stood like a family portrait, eyes wide as they took in Drake, or more accuratelynearly-nakedDrake. Her mother parted her lips, her father folded his arms and her brothers clenched their fists. No one spoke, and no one moved. That is, not until Kaitlyn did the only logical action.

She slammed the door shut.

"Kaitlyn!"

"Don't touch it!" She grabbed Drake’s hand before he could grasp the knob, threading her fingers through his much larger ones. Her heart thundered against her chest, shaking her ribs and stealing her breath. "My family was there. They all saw you. What must they think? What will I tell them?" She was rambling, but she couldn’t stop. The oxygen had disappeared from the room. “There’s no way to fix this.”

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