Page 37 of Undercover Billionaire

Everyone was ready to help, with the expected exception of Cynthia. At least it would be fun putting the unrepentant troublemaker to work. "Mom, Dad, I’d like you to help Allison prepare the croissants. We need a truckload of them, all types, shapes and sizes." She turned to her brothers. "Do you think you can manage to make fudge without eating the results?"

"No," they replied in unison.

"Well, try." She laughed, pointing them in the direction of the refrigerator. “Drake, you can help me with the cookies. Cynthia, I’m afraid I don’t have any cooking tasks for you."

The distasteful woman's upturned nose wrinkled in fake disappointment. "Oh well, I so wanted to help. I guess I’ll just have to supervise."

Kaitlyn smiled. "Well, since you really want to help, there is one thing…."

Maybe this wasn't going to be such a bad day after all.

* * *

As always,Drake stole Kaitlyn’s attention the moment she entered the kitchen. He stood at the counter, working the dough into little stars and moons with his large, capable hands. His expression was pensive, and for once he didn’t notice when she came right next to him. "What world are you on?" He started, and she reveled in the rare opportunity to take charge. "You really were in space."

"Apparently." He straightened his shirt, but then his lips curved. "Want to know what we were doing on this other world?"

Oh yes."Nope."

"Are you sure? It seemed like you were having a good time. A great time, even. In my dreams you were…"

"Don’t you dare…" Kaitlyn warned.

"Washing my car."

"I’m not going to honor that with a response," she huffed, barely hiding the smile. "So you’ll never guess what Cynthia is doing."

He chuckled. "You're as bad as you claim I am."

“It’s not my fault the only job left was cleaning the mess from the fridge mishap.” She grinned. "I thought Cynthia was going to pour a bag of flour over my head, but she wouldn’t dare refuse in front of my family.”

"You'd make a good lawyer. Brains and the body of a goddess. Who could resist?" He stepped a little closer. "If I seem distracted, it’s because you’re irresistible.” Closer still, his voice dropped to a murmur. “But as beautiful as your body is, your mind is the most tempting of all.”

She shivered, fought the urge to toss him over her shoulder, take him upstairs and haveherwicked way with him. His eyes darkened, as he splintered her thoughts. A mere breath away, he trapped her under his gaze, and her traitorous mind crafted more images.

Chocolate was involved.

She had to say something before she did something she would (or would not) regret. "That’s it, you’re definitely cleaning out the freezer."

He laughed. "That, my dear, was a classic statement of misdirection."

"Oh? Well, I–"

"Would you guys quit teasing each other and start working?" a rough voice interrupted. They couldn’t see her father, but apparently he could hear them. Yet bemusement lurked underneath the tough exterior, a softening that hadn’t been present earlier.

"Yes sir," Drake called to the back. Then quieter, "At least I'm earning my pay. And I don’t even have to act." He gave her a peck on the lips. "Let’s get started, boss."

She responded with her own kiss. "Okay."

He merely laughed.

The morning passed surprisingly well, both in pastry production and family fooling. The mishaps were few and their performance convincing, and she even managed to angle the mirrored mixing bowl just right to get a tantalizing view of Drake’s delectable backside without him noticing. She even dared optimism.

Naturally, that's when everything changed.

It began with a little request. "Drake, can you help me with something?"

Cynthia approached with a wide smile and a self-assured gait, false innocence defined. Kaitlyn’s senses sharpened, even as Drake remained calm and confident. "Sure thing, ma’am." He lowered the bowl of peach frosting and wiped his hands on the back of his jeans. As he passed Kaitlyn, he murmured, “If you don’t mind taking a break from watching my ass in the mixing bowl.”

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