Misbehaving With The Millionaire. Kimberly Lang

as well as a check from his personal account for the full amount of Gwen’s services. Nancy must have written the check the afternoon before but not had time to give it to him for his signature. He removed the check and left a sticky note for Nancy explaining he would deliver it personally. He placed the folder back in Nancy’s in-box, and went back to his office.

      It was three-thirty on a Friday afternoon. Without Nancy, much of his normal daily business had come to a complete halt, and it made zero sense to try to work on anything important. The late summer sunshine streamed through the wall of windows.

      What the hell. His e-mail in-box was empty. The silence from the offices surrounding his meant most of the executive staff had left early. He should give himself a break and cut out early as well. He could take Evie and Gwen out to dinner.

      Whistling, he packed up and called it a day. His receptionist stuttered as he walked by and wished her a good weekend. The security guard in the lobby checked his watch, confusion evident on his face. How long had it been since he’d left the office early?

      He called home only to be informed by Mrs. Gray that Evie and Gwen weren’t back from their shopping trip yet. He gave her the evening off and tried Evie on her cell phone.

      “Did you have fun shopping?”

      “It was amazing, Will. I found the most awesome dress for the Med Ball, and Sarah and Liza had like the entire store in my size in the dressing room and all I had to do was try stuff on.”

      Evie bubbled over with excitement. Something else he owed Gwen for: making Evie smile. “Sarah and Liza?”

      “Sarah’s Gwen’s sister. She’s great, but not as great as Gwen. Liza’s my new personal shopper.”

      Personal shopper? “Remind me I want my credit card back.”

      “Oh, no problem. Liza set me up my own account.”

      Gwen laughed in the background, and Evie kept chattering away. When she paused for breath, he interrupted. “Are y’all done for the day?”

      Evie relayed the question to Gwen, and he thought he heard an “Oh, definitely” before Evie replied, “I guess so.”

      “How about I take you to dinner tonight? I gave Mrs. Gray the night off, and maybe we could catch a movie afterward.”

      “Can Gwen come, too?”

      “If she’d like.”

      Evie’s voice muffled as she invited Gwen to join them for dinner and a movie. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Evie came back on the line.

      “She says yes, but not any place fancy. She didn’t pack any dressy clothes.”

      He was oddly pleased at the way this was working out. “That will work. I’m on my way home now, so I’ll see you in a little bit.”

      “You’re on your way home now?” Evie sounded shocked.

      “Well, yes. Is that a problem?”

      “No, you just never leave work early.”

      She made him sound like some kind of workaholic. Maybe in her eyes he was.

      Traffic was light and he made it home in record time. The doorman looked surprised to see him and asked if everything was all right. Okay, he really was working too much.

      The quiet of the apartment felt unusual now, whereas in the past he’d never noticed the silence. He turned on the TV for background noise—first to the twenty-four-hours news channel, then changed his mind and scrolled through the channels for something else. He settled on a bio-documentary on John Lennon and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He tossed his tie on the coffee table before propping his feet on it, sipped his beer, and waited for Evie and Gwen to get home.

      He didn’t have to wait very long. Evie burst through the front door still talking a mile a minute to Gwen about something called espadrilles before interrupting herself to shout, “Will, we’re home! Come see what I got!”

      Hard on the heels of her words, Evie and Gwen turned the corner into the living room, weighed down by what had to be a large portion of Neiman Marcus’s stock. Ricky, the doorman, followed, his arms also overflowing.

      Will flashed on a memory of Evie’s mother returning from marathon shopping in the early days of her marriage loaded down in much the same way. Evie must have inherited the gene from Rachel. “Did you leave anything at the store?”

      “Just the stuff that needs to be altered. It won’t be ready until next week.” Evie was already headfirst in one of the bags, pulling out clothes and shoes for him to see.

      Gwen’s smile was tired as she off-loaded bags and boxes and took bags from Ricky’s outstretched arms. “Thanks for saving us another trip.”

      “My pleasure, Miss Sawyer. Miss Evie must’ve really enjoyed herself today.”

      “I think she did.” Gwen graced Ricky with a smile that had Ricky blushing behind his freckles.

      “I’m glad to hear it.”

      “So am I,” Will added, as Ricky pocketed a hefty tip and left. “But you look worn-out.”

      Gwen sank to the couch and toed off her shoes. “Evie is a power shopper. I’m not. I’m never doing that again.”

      “From the looks of it, she’ll never need to shop again.”

      Gwen closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “Just wait until the new spring lines come out.”

      Evie continued to rifle through bags, and clothing piled up around her.

      “Evie, start taking all this back to your room.”

      “Okay. Gwen, do you—? Never mind. I’ve got it. You just stay there and…and…relax.” She scooped up an armload and disappeared.

      Gwen opened one eye. “What was that about?”

      He sat next to her. “Remorse, maybe?”

      “Trust me, the shopping elite care not who they exhaust in their quest.” Her eyes slid closed again, and the corners of her mouth twitched. “My sister says she has a good eye for style. She’s going to be a sensation.”

      For the first time since he’d met her, Gwen seemed fully relaxed. Since her eyes were closed, he allowed himself to study her, his eyes roaming freely over the arch of her dark eyebrows, the curve of her cheek, and the line of her jaw. Her hair fanned behind her, the loose curls snaking along the back of the couch toward his hands. She had a beautiful, elegant profile, and he mentally traced the line down her face, over a soft neck until the chain of her necklace drew his eye to a pendant nestled at the top of gently sloping cleavage.

      He had no business ogling the woman, but she intrigued him and stirred his blood in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. Unable to stop himself, he reached for the lock of hair that fell across her shoulder. He rubbed his fingers over its silkiness before tucking it gently behind her ear.

      “My sister says you’re the best. I think I might agree.”

      Gwen’s eyes flew open at the quiet statement and a shiver slid down her neck from the touch of his fingers on her ear. She turned to meet his gaze, only to see a heat there she didn’t expect.

      Déjà vu. Same couch. Same desire pooling in her stomach, same fluttery feeling in her chest. As much as she’d tried to write last night off as an aberration, she couldn’t deny the repeat of sensations that rippled over her when Will’s eyes lit like that and the room shrank until there seemed to only be enough oxygen for one.

      Will’s hand slid down her jaw until his fingers cupped her chin. Heat moved over her skin, and she wanted nothing more than to curl into his hand.

      Bad idea, remember? It would be oh-so-easy to fall into Will’s arms, and every nerve ending in her body screamed at her to do