Page 8 of Undercover Billionaire

She growled.

He smiled wider.

"Which you will not be sharing with me," she ground out.

Drake laughed. "I figured as much. I’ll make do with the couch… at least until she comes."

Kaitlyn decided she disliked the acting profession as a whole.

Still, if she wanted to convince Cynthia she and Drake were Greenfield’s own charmed couple, they would have to temporarily share an apartment. Thank goodness he wasn’t her "Perfect 10." She could resist six feet plus of pure male. "Fine. But if you try anything," she warned, "you’ll be sleeping on the porch if you’re lucky and in jail if you’re not, Cynthia or no Cynthia. Got it?"

"Got it," Drake agreed. "I'll be the perfect gentleman.”

The kitchen clock beeped, startling her. Midnight had long since passed, and her early wakeup was rapidly approaching. Getting to know her employee would have to wait until tomorrow.

"That’s enough details for tonight." She rubbed her arms, exhaustion weakening strained muscles. "If I don’t go to bed soon, I'll sleep through Cynthia’s entire visit. Which actually isn’t a horrible idea.”

"I’d much rather be awake.” He grinned roguishly. “I’m intrigued to see what happens."

Did actors always enjoy their roles so much? Ignoring slight suspicion and not-so-slight unease, she retrieved a pillow and blanket for her guest. He grasped the soft quilted fabric, just over her hands. And for just a moment… he didn’t let go.

His eyes were like the sea, fathomless and endless, and impossible to escape once they captured you in their powerful depths. Her breath hitched as a million unnamed questions surged, with one at its crescendo: What was he doing to her?

“I suppose it’s goodnight, then.” She pulled her hands back, unsuccessfully for a moment, until he finally released her. She didn’t wait for a reply before she turned and walked – okay, fled – to the safety of her bedroom. She firmly shut the door, then stood pressed against it for seconds and then minutes, before she finally changed into a nightgown and slipped into bed.

Despite her exhaustion, sleep proved elusive. Minutes and then hours passed, and she remained awake, as the man who slept yards away consumed every thought. Had she met him on the street, actor-for-hire would have been the last profession she’d imagine for him. Perhaps CEO, lawyer,dictator, something in which his aggressive nature and powerful demeanor would fit right in. What made him choose such an ill-suited career path?

Worse yet, he’d lodged himself in her psyche, despite their recent acquaintance. When she finally fell into a restless sleep, she dreamed of him, lucid images that remained as she repeatedly awoke during the stormy night. Each time, she tried in vain to picture a small, submissive man nothing like the powerful Drake Alexander. And each time she failed, with no power over her mind’s conjuring.

Nor over the small smile that escaped as she once again dreamed of Drake.

Chapter 3

Thursday morning arrived heralded by aqua skies and a bright, shining sun. Outside the window, the lush, green farmland stretched, a dew-covered world blooming with the rebirth that only comes following a particularly turbulent storm. The air smelled sweet and fragrant, a heady mixture of gardenias and the honeyed delight of baked goods.

Despite the land’s renewal, Kaitlyn awoke anything but refreshed. Jerked into consciousness by a blasting used car commercial on her radio alarm, she rested quietly in bed, trapped in a state of exhaustion. She closed her eyes, clinging to the small amount of peace that came in the early morning, before the hectic pace of the day began.

"Rise and shine! It’s the early bird that fools the cousin!"

Kaitlyn gasped, scrambling up at the booming voice. Drake stood in the doorway, tall, handsome and all sorts of confident, like he’d stepped from one of Allison’s gossip websites. He was already crisply dressed, his dark hair falling in soft waves and emerald eyes sparkling with intelligence and humor.

"What are you doing?" She gasped. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Time to get moving," Drake pointed toward the alarm. "I figured you didn't want to waste any time lying around. I heard your alarm, so I knew were up."

"That didn’t mean I wanted to get out of bed. How could you just barge into my room? It’s...it’s inappropriate!" She folded her arms across her chest. The move lifted her thin nightgown, outliningeverything. With a hiss, she dove under the covers. "Drake Alexander, leave this room right now!"

She growled as the actor chuckled. "Of course," he said solemnly. But laughter edged his tone as he sauntered out of the room and shut the door.

That impossible man! Drake was playing his part a little too soon and a lot too well. It had better be his way of preparing for the role.

She had a sinking feeling otherwise.

Kaitlyn was nota happy candy maker. As she entered the living room dressed in a severe black business suit that would have sobered a mortician, she fashioned a stern look and a crisp gait. Only Drake remained unaffected, as he gave her a thorough perusal, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head andeverythingin between. Her skin pinkened under his scrutiny, his gaze brushing shivers on her skin. She cleared her throat, fortified herself. He had no right to unbalance her. Boldly, she returned the gaze.

Her mouth dried.

Her would-be suitor wore a sharpArmanisuit, crisp and dark and fit to perfection. Although it covered him completely, it did nothing to hide his size or strength. He seemed even more impressive wearing the expensive outfit, tall and broad, proud and fierce, his towering strength almost tangible.

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