Misbehaving With The Millionaire. Kimberly Lang

to Marcus on a regular basis.

      And seeing Gwen in action wouldn’t be bad, either.

      “Sometimes, the dessert spoon will be above the plate, along with a dessert fork.”

      Evie looked confused for the thousandth time, but Gwen was pleased that she didn’t show her frustration.

      “So how’s that different from the soup spoon?”

      “Silver is always placed in the order it will be used. Start at the outside and work your way in with each course.” At Evie’s disgruntled look, Gwen added, “And you can always pause for a moment and wait to see which utensil everyone else picks up.”

      “No, I can do this.” With her back ramrod straight and a determined set to her chin, Evie went over the place setting again. Granted, Gwen’s teaching set contained enough pieces for the most formal of dinners—far more than Evie would ever be faced with unless she attended a state dinner at Buckingham Palace—but it didn’t hurt to cover every possible base. From past experience, Gwen knew that if Evie felt like she had this under control, any regular setting would seem like child’s play.

      “Red wine, white wine, champagne, water. My glasses are to the right.” She touched each piece as she spoke. “Fish fork, salad fork, dinner fork, bread plate and butter knife—”

      “Good God, what are we having for dinner?”

      Gwen looked up to see Will standing in the doorway, tie loosened and his briefcase still in his hand.

      Evie paused in her recitation. “Baked chicken and green beans.” Without waiting for a response, she continued. “Service plate, soup bowl, soup spoon, oyster fork…”

      Gwen stepped from behind Evie’s chair. “It’s a teaching set. Every possible fork she might come across. I think Mrs. Gray will let us slide with a smaller setting for tonight.”

      She caught the amused smile playing at the corners of Will’s mouth. “Well, that’s good to know.”

      “Hey, Will, did you know there’s a special fork just for oysters? I always thought you just picked them up and slurped them out, but Gwen says that’s not the proper thing to do. Did you know that?”

      “I think slurping of any sort is against the rules. But how you’d get the slippery little suckers onto a fork is beyond me.” Over Evie’s giggle, he added, “I’m going to take Gwen in the other room for a probably well-deserved drink while you check with Mrs. Gray about what forks she does need on the table.”

      Evie balked, and Gwen wondered if she’d ever help set a table before. A look from Will sent her scurrying for the kitchen.

      “I’ll come get you guys when it’s time to eat.”

      “A drink, Gwen?”

      “I’d love one, but not because Evie’s driven me to it. She’s done very well today.”

      “That’s good to hear.” Will stepped back and indicated she should lead the way. In the hallway, Will dropped his briefcase on a side table and fell into step beside her. She gasped as his hand went to the small of her back, the warmth seeping through her shirt to heat her skin. She swayed, her balance suddenly off-kilter.

      It’s just a polite gesture, nothing more. Still, the shock propelled her the last few feet into the living room and away from his touch.

      She took a seat on the long, butter-soft leather sofa and watched as Will poured two glasses of wine from the bar. He handed her a glass and stepped away. She took a sip, glad to see her equilibrium had returned with distance.

      Will seemed unaware of her discomfort. He took the wing chair opposite her and relaxed against its back. “I’ve never seen someone so excited about oyster forks and soup spoons.”

      “Evie’s just eager to please right now. Everything is new and, therefore, fun. It’ll pass in a few days. Believe me.”

      “So you’re settled in okay?” He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing in funny spikes. She was still having problems reconciling the Will Harrison from the papers with the one she was seeing in person. The corporate CEO didn’t mesh with the man in front of her, the one who sputtered at the sight of a formal place setting and teased his little sister about oysters.

      “Yes, thank you. Your home is lovely.” Funny, this room felt smaller than it did when she and Evie were in here earlier. Polite small talk. Come on, Miss Behavior, you can do small talk. She took another sip of her wine. “Did you have a good day?”

      “I guess you could call it that.” Will removed his tie completely and tossed it over the arm of the chair before unbuttoning the top three buttons of his white dress shirt, exposing bronze skin underneath. Although Will continued talking, she wasn’t able to concentrate on his words. Definitely some kind of outdoor activity. The lack of a tan line at the base of his throat meant whatever he did outside, he did it shirtless.

      Pull it together. She had no business pondering his shirt- free activities—whatever they might be. She should have known after her reaction to him in his office yesterday that moving in to such close proximity would be a very bad idea. Then she’d compounded the problem by insisting he be home every night for dinner. How long before he fired her for gawking at him? Not only was it extremely bad manners—and she should know—but it was unprofessional as well.

      This adolescent mooning had to stop. She was not going down that path again. She’d learned that lesson the hard way. Or at least she thought she had. Obviously her libido was a bit of a slow learner. Maybe it was just because she’d been in a bit of a dating dry spell recently.

      Fine. The day after the Med Ball she’d start dating again. She’d let Sarah set her up, hit the bars, try an online site—anything. She just needed to make it until then without making a fool of herself again.

      Focus on Evie, and try to forget about her brother. Easier said than done, when even as she promised herself she’d find a man soon, she could still feel his hand on the small of her back like a brand.

      Will sat on the balcony, his legs stretched out on the railing and a drink in his hand. The lights of Dallas spread out in front of him, twinkling in the darkness.

      Evie and Gwen were both in their rooms and Mrs. Gray had long since gone home, and the apartment had fallen silent. At first, the quiet felt odd; he kept expecting to hear Evie’s stereo or Mrs. Gray banging pots and pans in the kitchen. Funny how quickly he’d adjusted to having people around—Evie, Mrs. Gray and now, Gwen.

      The balcony off Gwen’s room angled his, and the glow from behind her curtains meant she was still awake. He’d heard the unmistakable click of computer keys as he walked by earlier. Was she a workaholic, taking advantage of the quiet evening to answer the etiquette questions of the country’s youth? If he knocked on her door, would she join him for a drink on the balcony instead?

      When he’d opened the front door, he’d heard Evie’s recitation of flatware and gone to the dining room expecting to find Miss Behavior in full form. He’d been struck speechless instead. Gwen’s sensible suit had disappeared, replaced by a simple sundress that flowed over her curves intriguingly. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, and as she’d passed him in the hallway, he’d caught a faint whiff of lavender.

      The scent suited her: elegant, a bit old-fashioned and very feminine. He’d breathed deep and the residual tension of his day eased away. And while Gwen seemed to stay slightly on edge as they chatted, he’d found the wine to be an unnecessary additional relaxant.

      He’d been charmed by her at dinner. When he agreed to be home for more family meals, he hadn’t expected to enjoy it so much. Evie’s presence seemed to melt some of the reserve he normally felt from Gwen, and he found her to be well-read and refreshing in her opinions.

      And Evie! Gwen may have said it was too early to tell, but he could see the changes in Evie already. She did have natural