Exposed: Her Undercover Millionaire Read online

  If she’d been even the slightest bit sober, he would have accepted her invitation without question. He would have her in bed right now. But it was good that he didn’t. He was glad she’d had too much to drink, and he’d had an excuse to stop her.

  What the hell had he been thinking? Had he honestly believed an affair with Paige was a good idea? He didn’t have time for this. Time for her, or any relationship. Especially one that wouldn’t bring him any closer to exposing Rafe Cameron. He was on a mission, and he couldn’t afford any distractions.

  But oh, what a stimulating distraction she would be. And he’d been right about one thing. Under the designer suit and polished persona there was a wild woman struggling to break free. And if he knew what was good for them both, he would stay as far away from Paige Adams as humanly possible.

  He would drive her to work in the morning to get her car, then, besides in a professional capacity, it was the last he would see of his new “friend.”

  Paige woke the next morning with a brain-splitting hangover, but the relentless thumping in her skull as she sat up in bed was no match for the humiliation of her mortifying lapse of moral judgment.

  What had she been thinking, drinking so much? Hell, she never should have agreed to one drink much less…was it five? Six? She’d lost count.

  And even worse than the humiliation was the fact that she’d had so much…fun. The talking and the dancing. The flirting. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been so relaxed, and focused on something other than work. She couldn’t forget the way Brandon’s arms felt around her on the dance floor. The softness of his lips and the taste of his mouth when she kissed him. The hard length of his erection through his jeans as he pulled her close. She hadn’t been too drunk to remember that. Or the way she had tried to drag him into her apartment.

  If he hadn’t been such a gentleman, hadn’t stopped things before they went too far, she most definitely would have slept with him. He could be lying beside her right now, sleepy and rumpled….

  She shook away the mental image, regretting the move instantly as pain stabbed her temples.

  She crawled out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen, swallowing three pain tablets with a huge glass of cold water. In the bathroom, she cringed when she saw her reflection. It was a good thing Brandon hadn’t stayed over. With her puffy eyes, smudged mascara and hair askew, she would have scared him away for sure.

  She showered, brushed her teeth and dressed for work, choosing her favorite skinny jeans and a soft cotton shirt. During the week she took great care in her appearance, but weekends, if she had no meetings, or events to attend, she kept it casual. She dried her hair and pulled it back in a ponytail, then swiped on mascara and a touch of lip gloss. She was considering whether she should make a pot of coffee or pick a cup up on her way to work when there was a knock on her front door. She couldn’t imagine who it might be, since she rarely had visitors at nine-thirty on a Saturday morning.

  Oh, hell, who was she kidding? She didn’t get visitors ever. She didn’t have time for friends lately. Her secretary was the closest thing she had to a confidant.

  She opened the door, only a little surprised to find Brandon on the other side.

  “Good morning,” he said with one of those adorable, dimpled grins. The man was honestly too cute for his own good. He was dressed pretty much the same as the night before. Jeans, a T-shirt and cowboy boots, only this time he’d added a black Stetson to the ensemble. And he looked so delicious she wanted to eat him up.

  Bad idea, Paige. Really bad idea.

  In his hands he carried two jumbo-size cups of coffee from her favorite coffeehouse, and when the rich scent drifted her way, her mouth started to water.

  She didn’t bother to ask what he was doing there, as she had a pretty good idea already. After last night, he probably assumed they were starting some sort of relationship. Why wouldn’t he? And she couldn’t deny that the coffee was a nice touch. But she would have to set him straight, make it clear that last night was a mistake, and it wouldn’t happen again. The chemistry aside, they were all wrong for each other.

  And if it was so wrong, why was her heart suddenly going berserk in her chest? And why couldn’t she seem to stop looking at his mouth?

  “I thought you could probably use it,” he said, handing her a cup. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  As a rule, she didn’t invite people into her home. Especially not business associates. All of her resources went into keeping up the proper appearance in public. There wasn’t much left over for personal splurges.

  But of all the people she could bring here, he probably cared the least about appearances. Besides, he was grinning that sexy smile and the coffee smelled so delicious. She just couldn’t tell him no. At least this would give them a chance to talk about last night, to establish boundaries.

  She moved aside, wondering what he was thinking as he stepped inside and gazed around at the small space. The secondhand furniture and threadbare carpet. It wasn’t a great apartment, but the rent was reasonable and the area was safe, and the furniture may have been old, but it was hers.

  “Nice place,” he said. “Cozy.”

  She shut the door. “You mean small.”

  He turned to her. “No, I mean cozy. And I like it. I like that it’s at complete odds with your professional persona.”

  Though she felt compelled to give him an explanation, she had the feeling he didn’t expect or need one. Instead she gestured him into the tiny kitchen. “Do you need cream or sugar?”

  “No, thanks.”

  She set the coffee down on the tiny square of counter space beside the two-burner economy stove and opened the cupboard to take out the sugar. “So, what brings you here this morning?”

  “I told you I would pick you up this morning.”

  She looked at him over her shoulder. “Pick me up?”

  “To get your car. You left it at work yesterday. Remember?”

  “Oh, right.” She had completely forgotten about that. Which wasn’t at all like her. Wouldn’t she have been surprised when she went out to the carport to find it missing.

  Did that mean he wasn’t here because of last night? That he was just being polite? That he wasn’t interested in a relationship any more than she was?

  If that was the case, it should be a relief, so why, as she dumped a heaping teaspoon of sugar into her cup, was disappointment burning in her belly?

  There is something seriously wrong with you, honey.

  “There was something else, too,” he said. “Something I wanted to give you.”

  She set the spoon down and turned to find him right behind her, and the instant she saw the look in his eyes, saw him leaning in, she knew exactly what he was going to “give” her. Before she could utter a word, or make a move to stop him, his lips were on hers. So soft and warm and sweet.

  At first, anyway.

  It didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, and pick up momentum. His arms went around her, drawing her against him, and his tongue rubbed against hers, lulling her into a state of total sexual bliss.

  Oh, my God.

  She had been hoping that in her intoxicated state she had exaggerated how fantastic the kiss last night had been, only now she realized the opposite was true.

  It was even better than she remembered.

  In the span of a breath she was right back in that place where she wanted to put her hands on him, touch him all over.

  So much for establishing boundaries. This was so wrong, so inappropriate. But how did one fight a tidal wave? A tsunami of conflicting emotions?

  They parted slowly, lips lingering, as if neither wanted to be the first to end it. Brandon sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. “I promised myself I wasn’t going to do that. But then I saw you…I just couldn’t resist.”

  She wished he would have. He was making it really hard for her to do the right thing. “I was just about to tell you that last night was a mistake, and we can’t see
each other again socially.”

  “Yet, here we are.”

  That didn’t mean it was smart. “This isn’t going to work, Brandon.”

  “I know.”

  “We want completely different things from life.”

  “I know.”

  “And I just don’t have the time for a relationship now.”

  “So let’s not have a relationship.”

  “What, then?”

  He shrugged. “Why don’t we just…keep it casual, see where this goes. Have fun.”

  She didn’t have time for fun. Although, last night had been really nice. Maybe occasionally it wouldn’t hurt to relax a little and focus on something other than her career.

  “I have an idea,” he said, stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Why don’t you skip work today.”

  “I can’t.” But she wanted to. She didn’t want to think about caterers and seating arrangements or what color napkins would match the table centerpieces. She wanted to be with Brandon. He was unlike any man she’d ever known. Maybe it was the uncomplicated lifestyle he led, but being with him was just so…easy.

  “Sure you can,” he said. “It’s one day.”

  “The gala is in three weeks. I have so much to do.”

  “But how much can you do on a Saturday? Take a drive with me instead.”

  “Where?”

  “Anywhere. We could have a picnic.”

  She hadn’t been on a picnic since…well, longer than she could remember. It was so tempting. But what she’d said about them wanting different things from life was true, and she didn’t feel it was fair to lead him on, to make him believe this was something it wasn’t. Something it could never be.

  That didn’t mean that they couldn’t be friends.

  “I’ll go, but only if we both agree to keep this platonic.”

  “What if I want more?”

  She stepped back, out of his arms. “Then we’ll have to be business associates, and nothing more.”

  He considered that for several seconds, then shrugged and said, “Friends it is, then.”

  That was almost too easy. Either he was just saying it to appease her, or maybe he wasn’t as attracted to her physically as she was to him. If he was, wouldn’t he have put up at least a little bit of a fight?

  What was wrong with her? She’d gotten exactly what she wanted, and she still wasn’t happy! Maybe he took what she said to heart, and decided he wanted them to be friends.

  And maybe she wanted to have her cake and eat it, too.

  “So are you ready to go?” he asked.

  “For a picnic?” He nodded.

  “Where?”

  “I know a place. I think you’ll like it.”

  She shouldn’t go, but she wanted to. Badly. And how often did she do things just because? Try never.

  Maybe, just for today, she could do something fun. “I’ll get my shoes.”

  Five

  On their way out of Vista del Mar—to parts still unknown— Brandon pulled his truck into a parking spot in front of Bistro by the Sea, a deli in the business district. It wasn’t far from Paige’s office and she often picked up lunch there, or stopped in for coffee.

  “Sit tight,” he said, getting out and heading inside. She thought maybe he was picking up a soda, or more coffee. Instead, he emerged several minutes later with an enormous take-out bag. How had he managed that so fast? She could see through the window that the line was long.

  He’d gone outside to use the phone while she’d put on her shoes. Had he been putting in a food order?

  “What is that?” she asked as he got back in.

  He handed it to her. “Lunch.”

  She took the bag, surprised by how heavy it was, and peeked inside. He called this lunch? This was a feast! Gourmet sandwiches, salads and fresh fruit, plus a smaller bag of baked goodies that had her mouth watering. There were even bottles of water and diet soda.

  Being on a very strict budget, she knew the prices at the bistro. A spread like this must have cost him a small fortune!

  “Brandon, you didn’t have to do this,” she said.

  He shrugged as he started the engine, like it was no big deal. “You can’t have a picnic without food.”

  “At least let me pay for my half,” she said, reaching for her purse. It would be different if they were dating, but this was friendship, and it was only fair that they go dutch. Actually, since he bought dinner and all the drinks last night, she should be paying for lunch. “How much do I owe you?”

  “This one is on me,” he said, pulling back out into traffic.

  “That’s not fair. You bought last night. And with you working less, things have to be tight.”

  “My salary hasn’t changed.”

  That was a surprise. “You must have a very generous boss.”

  “He is. He looks at it as an investment, I guess, since he’s grooming me to be foreman.”

  She wondered if he would make substantially more as foreman, but she would never be so bold as to ask. How much he made was none of her business. Although she couldn’t silence the nagging voice that said he was selling himself short. That he was an intelligent man capable of such greater things. Maybe he believed that at thirty years old, it was too late to change. Or maybe he really did love his work, and he was happy just the way things were. Who was she to dictate what was best for him? And why did it matter so much to her?

  Because she liked him. A lot. Every time she looked over at him, her heart did a funny little flop in her chest. Maybe she wanted to try to mold him into someone who would fit her lifestyle, the persona she had created.

  If that was true, something was very wrong with her.

  He entered the I-8 going northeast and merged into traffic.

  “You’re not going to tell me where we’re going?” she asked.

  He just smiled. “Do you even know where we’re going?”

  “Yep.”

  “Is it very far?”

  “Twenty minutes, give or take.”

  He was very relaxed behind the wheel, letting the natural flow of traffic dictate his speed. Wherever they were going, it was clear he wasn’t in a rush to get there. She, on the other hand, had the tendency to exceed the speed limit. Even if it meant staying only five minutes ahead of schedule. She was always in a rush to get where she was going, to finish one task so she could start the next. It was a perpetual cycle that never seemed to end. At times it could be exhausting. But it had been that way for so many years now, she didn’t know how to change. How not to be in constant movement.

  Maybe Brandon could teach her. Or maybe he wouldn’t want her to change. Maybe he liked successful, professional women.

  And maybe it didn’t matter, she reminded herself, because they were just going to be friends.

  “What was your fiancée like?” she asked him.

  He looked a little taken aback by the question. “Where did that come from?”

  “I was just curious. If you don’t want to talk about it—”

  “It’s okay. You just caught me off guard.” He drew in a deep breath and blew it out, shoulders tense. “Ashleigh. She was…ambitious. But not necessarily in a good way.”

  “How can ambition be a bad thing?”

  “I guess it just depends on what you’re ambitious about. She was the perfect woman for me, right up until the day I realized she wasn’t.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “She told me exactly what I wanted to hear, became exactly who she thought I wanted her to be. What we had, it was an illusion. She said she never even loved me.”

  “Why would she do that? Why would she want to be married to someone she didn’t love?”

  “I’m sure she had her reasons.”

  Paige had the feeling there was more to it than he was telling her. That her reasons were something he preferred Paige not know. Or maybe he just didn’t feel comfortable opening up to her. They had known each other less than twenty-fo
ur hours. Just because she’d experienced some sort of strange connection, it didn’t mean he felt it, too.

  “Thank God I figured it out before we made it to the altar,” he said. “Although barely.”

  “When did you find out she was being unfaithful?”

  “Two days before the wedding, when I caught them in the stable in a…compromising position.”

  She couldn’t even imagine how horrible that must have been. And for the life of her she could not fathom why a woman with a fiancé so sweet and attractive would need anyone else. She had to remind herself that she didn’t know Brandon very well. Maybe he had a dark side. Everyone had faults, right?

  “How about you?” he asked. “Any serious relationships that have crashed and burned?”

  “Not really. In high school I didn’t have time for boyfriends. Besides, I didn’t want to become one of those girls.”

  “Those girls?”

  “From the wrong side of the tracks who ended up knocked up and married at sixteen.”

  “Things were that bad for you and your mom?”

  “My parents got married right out of high school and my mom had no skills to speak of. Let’s just say she didn’t do the hottest job supporting us. After the life insurance money was gone, we lost our house and had to move into this crummy little trailer on the poor side of town. Once, it got so bad we had to live in a women’s shelter for several weeks. It was the most humiliating experience of my life.”

  “Your mom never remarried?”

  “No, thank God.”

  He glanced over at her. “That was a good thing?”

  “She tended to hang around like-minded men.”

  “Other alcoholics, you mean?”

  “Alcoholics, drug addicts. She wasn’t terribly discerning. In fact, one of them was the reason we got evicted and had to stay in the shelter. My mom had the rent in her purse, and he stole it to buy drugs. She had to come up with first and last month’s rent and a security deposit before we could move back in.”

  “I know what it feels like to be let down by a parent,” he said.

  “I like to think that it made me a stronger person. She may have screwed up a lot, but thanks to her, I know how to take care of myself.”