Page 39 of Undercover Billionaire

"Don't we want someone to see us?" He rendered tiny kisses on her neck, branding her with every one, stealing her breath and her willpower to resist. “This is how people who are dating act.” He nipped her neck. "They probably won’t see us."

It was true. They were all busy with their own tasks, and even Cynthia was likely to stay away for a few minutes after her antics. Yet if he understood that, why was he doing this? "Then why are we…"

"Because of this," he answered the question she didn’t finish, returning to her lips, searing them with passion. She splayed her hands on his chest, smoothing the rock-hard expanse. He replicated the motion, caressing her with firm circles, as she delved closer to the powerful man. She could stop, should stop, but even her strength had its limits.

Yet a soft chime sounded, its melodic tone giving Kaitlyn the willpower to pull back. They stood forehead to forehead, nothing separating them, shuddering breaths proving neither possessed complete control. "You’re ringing," she breathed softly.

Drake’s hesitated, before retrieving a flashing cell phone. For a moment, he studied the screen, before answering the phone quietly, asking the caller to hold. Edging away, she forced her breathing to slow, attempting to calm her furiously beating heart. Disappointment, relief and frustration tangled as his eyes shuttered. "I’m sorry, I have to take this call." Without another word, he pivoted away from her, then banged through the door leading to the parking lot.

What just happened?

The reaction was as mysterious as it was unexpected. Who had inspired such a strong reaction? Family, a friend, alover? What – or who – was he keeping so mysteriously hidden? If only she could hear his conversation…

"Have I descended so far as to consider eavesdropping?" She grabbed a bag of pearlescent icing and started furiously frosting cupcakes. After four attempts at roses that resembled flying saucers, she gave up. "You know what? The answer is yes, I would consider eavesdropping. In fact, I’ll do more than consider. He’s on my time anyways." She stepped towards the exit, stopped as her dad and Cynthia walked in.

Reluctantly, she addressed Cynthia. "Is the machine acting up again? Did you check for rocks?"

"The machine is fine," her dad broke in with a smile. "I’m just going to the car to get my glasses."

He strolled by, but Cynthia stopped in front of Kaitlyn. "I came to talk to you, my dear," she said in a lilting voice. "It’s about Drake. I don’t want to put you on the spot, but I'm curious about a few things. Would you mind filling me in?"

Kaitlyn bit back a grimace. How could she refuse without further arousing Cynthia's suspicions? She gave a curt nod, fortifying herself for her cousin's interrogation. Hopefully, Drake was having better luck, whomever he was talking to.

"I toldyou to only call in an emergency," Cameron spoke in a controlled whisper, only half-successful at keeping the accusation out of his voice. He strove to keep a respectful work environment with his employees, yet it was hard to keep control when the call risked everything. He hadn’t missed the suspicion in Kaitlyn’s eyes. His all-too-clever employer could have her head plastered against the door. "Is everything all right?"

After his executive vice president spoke, it clearly was an emergency, at least a business one. One of their most crucial cases had suffered complications, and only he had the knowledge to carve a path forward. He apologized for his earlier brusqueness and gave instructions. After a few minutes of discussion, he finally ended the call and returned the phone to his pocket. He breathed deeply, peered out at the endless blue sky.

What had become of the shrewd businessman, the man who drove through a fierce storm just to make Monday morning’s business briefings? He had almost ignored the phone call, a move that would have cost the firm tens of thousands of dollars. Yet if it happened again, he couldn’t be certain he could tear himself away from Kaitlyn. "What has she done to you, Cameron?" he whispered out loud.

"That’s exactly what I would like to know."

Time stood still.

As a man appeared before him.

And every option disappeared in an instant.

A solemn George Owens stepped forward, his expression as severe as a murder trial. The older man’s intelligent eyes pierced him. “Who are you?”

"Mr. Owens…"

"Don’t try it, son. I might not be as young or suave as you, but I'm nobody’s fool. From the moment I got here, something seemed off, and I heard enough of your conversation to realize you’re not some assistant in a candy shop. So either you explain, or I’ll get Kaitlyn and we discuss it together."

"Sir, you don’t want to do that." If Kaitlyn found out the truth from her father, she would be furious, her reaction unpredictable. He’d have to share the truth soon, that was becoming clearer by the moment, yet he would wait for Cynthia to leave, to not shatter the plan they’d worked so hard to craft.

"You have some explaining to do, son." The words brought Cameron out of his reverie, and like the businessman he was, he evaluated his remaining choices in seconds. More lies would exacerbate the situation, yet if he told the truth, either the man would kill him or run to Kaitlyn and instruct her to kill him. Neither scenario seemed particularly attractive. Unless he could somehow get the older man to play along…

"I’m waiting." Time was out. As a world class lawyer, Cameron was accustomed to analyzing the probabilities of his success. With one of the most difficult – and vital – choices of his life, in the end he went with his gut.

It was time to tell the truth.

"Kaitlyn and I aren’t really together. She hired me to pretend to be her boyfriend to fool Cynthia.” Cameron met Mr. Owens’ shocked gaze. “Years ago, she told her cousin she was in a relationship, and when Cynthia decided to visit, she couldn’t bring herself to admit the truth. Instead, she hired me."

"You’re a professional actor?" Mr. Owens choked out. “You’re just pretending to be dating?”

"Yes… no… not quite." Cameron exhaled, as images of theirquitereal relationship flashed. How to explain what even he didn’t understand.

The older man speared him with a forceful gaze. "What do you mean, not quite?"

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