Читать книгу Misbehaving with the Millionaire: The Millionaire's Misbehaving Mistress - Kimberly Lang - Страница 7

CHAPTER TWO

“YOU are kidding me, right? The Will Harrison hired you? I didn’t even know he had a sister.”

“That’s because you don’t read the society section closely enough. And don’t sound so surprised. As I’ve been reminded more than once recently, social training is what I do for a living.” Gwen balanced the phone on her shoulder as she loaded her laptop into its case.

Sarah went into Sister Support Mode. “Temporarily, Gwennie, temporarily. Even if the kid eats with her feet, you’ll turn her into Jackie O in no time. Then, big brother will have to listen to what you can do for his company.”

“I can hope.” Gwen consulted her list. Laptop. Dinner kit. Tea kit. Etiquette books for her new client. Her suitcase. Check, check, check and check.

The increase in background noise meant her sister was no longer alone. Hastily she added, “Listen, you can’t tell anyone about this. ‘My discretion is essential,’ remember?”

“Ich verstehe.” Sarah switched to German, a tactic they’d used for years when they didn’t want others to understand their conversation. “Is he as handsome as his pictures?”

Better than his pictures. Yummy, actually. “Oh, grow up, Sarah.”

“He’s Dallas’s Most Eligible Bachelor, you know.”

“One of them, at least,” she hedged.

“Seriously, what’s he like?”

“Busy. A bit brusque. In need of one of my refresher classes.” Gwen grabbed her address book and current client files and added them to the growing pile. Will Harrison might be the biggest client she’d signed on, but she still had to take care of the others.

“Well, maybe your lessons with his sister will rub off on him.”

Gwen responded with an unladylike, but noncommittal “humph” as she dragged her suitcase down the hallway. “One more thing. Can you look after Letitia for a while?”

“Sure, Gwennie. Why?”

“This is where your discretion comes in. I’m going to be living with the Harrisons for the next couple of weeks.” Gwen held the phone away from her ear in expectation of her sister’s reaction.

“You’re what?” Even with the phone several inches away, she clearly heard every one of the dozen rapid-fire questions delivered at the top of her sister’s voice.

“Calm down. Good Lord, you sound exactly like Mother when you do that.”

“That’s uncalled for.”

“Well, if the shoe fits…”

“You do understand that if that columnist from Dallas Lifestyles gets wind of this, she’ll have a field day with you.”

“There’s nothing nefarious going on. I’m moving into the guest bedroom so I’ll have total access to Evie. If my over-developed sense of propriety can handle it, so can yours.” She consulted her list one last time. Surely she had everything she needed. It wasn’t like she was going to Siberia or anything. “Since when do you care what people think anyway?”

Sarah sighed. “That’s my point. I don’t, but you need to. Let me remind you that the majority of your clientele is hugely conservative. Proper debutante trainers don’t live with men they aren’t related to.”

“I know, I know. This is why you need to keep your mouth shut. Should anyone find out—”

“And you know they will, Gwennie. Will Harrison is one of that Hulme woman’s favorite subjects for her column. Do you honestly think you can move in to his house and no one will notice?”

It was Gwen’s turn to sigh. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. This is a business arrangement, nothing more. No one would question it if he’d hired a live-in housekeeper. This isn’t any different.”

“I’d keep practicing that statement, if I were you. I think you’re going to need it.”

“There’s no need to sound so dire. It’s not like there’s paparazzi staking out his building or anything. If I just lie low and not call attention to myself, this should stay under the radar.”

“Good luck with that.” Gwen could almost hear Sarah’s eyes rolling with the sarcasm.

“Jeez, thanks for the vote of support.”

“You have my support—you know that. I also know how hard you’ve worked to build something here, and I’d hate for you to lose ground again.”

“I know. But I just get the feeling this is the right thing to do. That it’s my chance. I’ve got to try. If not, I’m afraid I’m going to spend another five years playing with place settings.”

“Then I’ll keep my fingers and toes crossed for you.”

“Thank you. Now can you come get Letitia and keep her until I’m finished with Evie?”

“Of course.”

“And speaking of Evie, can I bring her in to see you this week? Seems she’s going to need a wardrobe.”

She heard the clicks from the keyboard that meant Sarah was checking her schedule. “I’m free Friday afternoon,” she finally said. “Will that work? Monday morning would be okay, too. Just let me know.”

“Thanks. I’m already running late so I really have to go. I’ll have my cell if you need me. And remember, discretion.”

“Genau.” Sarah switched back to English. “Call me tomorrow. I want to hear all the juicy details.”

“Goodbye.” There will be no juicy details this time.

The brief foray into German reminded Gwen to go back to her office for her Japanese dictionary and software. If she wanted to promote herself as an expert in Asian relations, she needed to get her fluency back in Japanese. Which meant she was dependent on software for the time being. Hopefully Evie didn’t eat with her feet and she’d have some time to practice…

As she loaded her car, she questioned her sanity one last time. If all went well, this could change everything for her. If she could just get HarCorp as a satisfied customer, every company in Dallas would be lining up for her services. Heck, HarCorp could open doors for her all over Texas.

But if Evie wasn’t ready in time…she could kiss most of her clientele goodbye. Sarah wasn’t wrong about her business suffering if the gossip columns decided to portray her as some kind of immoral floozy. But the true Worst Case Scenario was if she didn’t produce the results Will Harrison expected. Unhappy Harrisons spelled certain doom for her entire business—including the debs. No one would hire her for anything if the Harrisons blacklisted her. The Dallas elite were a close-knit group. Alienating one meant alienating them all.

This was make or break time.

Nothing like a little pressure to keep a girl on her toes. She shifted into Drive and tried to think positively.

On a map, Will Harrison’s high-rise building might be only four miles from her funky M Street cottage, but in terms of wealth, Gwen felt like she’d traveled to the moon.

She stopped under the porte cochere where a doorman met her at her car and introduced himself as Michael. She identified herself, half expecting to be told to move her simple Honda to a less-affluent area.

“Miss Sawyer, of course. Mr. Harrison said to expect you. Let me help you with your things, and Ricky will take your car to the garage.”

The helpful doorman made easy conversation as he gathered her gear from the trunk and escorted her to the elevator. “The Harrisons are in Penthouse A.”

Of course they are. Where else would they live? Michael pushed the button marked P, and she gasped as the elevator sped to the top floor in seconds and deposited them almost directly in front of the door marked A.

“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” she muttered.

“Excuse me?” Michael asked from behind her.

“Oh, nothing.” With one last mental slap to the forehead, she rang the bell.

She heard a voice shout “I’ll get it!” before the door was thrown open by a teenage girl she had to assume was Evie.

The girl’s dark red hair was braided into cornrows tipped with colorful beads that swung dangerously as she turned to shout, “Will, she’s here!” She waved Gwen in and smiled at Michael as he returned to the elevator.

Evie’s casual air and easy manner contrasted sharply with the cool marble elegance of the foyer. Tall and thin in the way only teenagers can be, she wore faded blue jeans frayed at the hems and a gauzy white peasant shirt. While she was barefoot and fresh-faced now, Evie would be a raving beauty once she matured out of the gangly awkwardness of adolescence. Gwen remembered the picture of Bradley Harrison that hung in the HarCorp lobby; Evie must have inherited her amazing bone structure from her mother. Neither she nor Will favored Bradley Harrison at all, except for their eyes.

Just as she thought his name, Will appeared from a room farther down the hall. Her breath caught in her chest. The suit and tie were gone, replaced by a pair of faded jeans and a snug blue T-shirt that clearly outlined the shoulders she’d admired earlier in his office. Tanned biceps flexed as he helped Gwen bring her suitcase in.

He, too, was barefoot, and she felt ridiculously out-of-place: overdressed in her suit and sensible shoes and totally dumpy standing next to such perfect specimens of beauty.

“Gwen, this is my sister, Evangeline. Evie, this is Miss Sawyer.”

Pulling herself together, Gwen offered her hand to Evie. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Evangeline. May I call you Evie as well?”

“Ohmigod, you really are Miss Behavior, aren’t you?”

Gwen ignored Will’s uplifted eyebrows. “Yes, I am. I take it you read my column?”

Evie bounced on the balls of her feet. “Every single day since Mrs. Gray told me I had to learn some manners. Plus all the archive stuff, too. I’ve learned so much already. I can’t believe Will got you as my teacher! Cool!”

“Then let’s try this again.” Gwen offered her hand to Evie a second time. “It’s nice to meet you, Evangeline.”

Evie took the hint and with a sideways glance at Will tried again. “It’s nice to meet you too, Miss Sawyer. Please call me Evie.” Evie shook her hand, but it was a timid handshake. They’d work on that tomorrow.

“Since we’re going to be working closely together, why don’t you call me Gwen?”

Evie grinned, and Gwen knew she had a winner on her hands.

“Evie, take Gwen’s things to her room.” Evie disappeared around a corner, dragging Gwen’s suitcase behind her, and Will lifted an eyebrow at her. “Miss Behavior?”

“On the TeenSpace site. Kind of like Miss Manners.” He finally guided her out of the foyer and into a living area with another spectacular view of Dallas. The man must really like looking out over the skyline. “That’s why Evie knew what I was talking about there in the hallway. We went over introductions just last week on the site.”

He nodded and changed the subject abruptly. “Mrs. Gray will have dinner ready in just a minute or two. Would you like a drink?”

Desperately. But she shook her head and declined. She needed her A-game tonight, and a drink wouldn’t help. Perching carefully in the wing chair opposite his, she tried to make small talk. It wasn’t easy.

Will picked up his glass from the coffee table and swirled the amber liquid. Scotch? Bourbon? she wondered briefly, then lost her train of thought as he leaned back in the chair and propped his feet on the edge of the coffee table. They were large and tanned, and for reasons she couldn’t begin to explore, oddly fascinating to her.

“Gwen?”

She snapped back to the conversation and felt the guilty flush creep up her neck. She’d been staring at his feet, for goodness sake. What on earth was wrong with her?

She smiled an apology.

“You can get settled in after dinner. Please make yourself at home. If you need anything, just let Mrs. Gray know.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, let’s talk about Evie.”

Another complete turnaround. Will got bonus points for remembering the small pleasantries, but he remained focused on why she was here.

“What about me?” Evie came into the room and flopped on the sofa.

“I want to hear how Gwen’s going to miraculously turn you into a lady before the Hospital Benefit. You should be sitting up straight and paying attention.”

Evie straightened up and both Harrison siblings looked at her expectantly.

Good God. What have I gotten myself into? “Well…”

Mrs. Gray chose that moment to call them to dinner and Gwen sent up a word of thanks. This was the strangest situation of her career, and she wasn’t sure how to proceed. Dinner would make this much easier.

How wrong she was. Evie chattered like a magpie, covering every topic that crossed her mind, from the TeenSpace site and Gwen’s column to how much she disliked the food in America. Will said little, occasionally commenting on Evie’s monologue when she paused for a breath, and when his BlackBerry beeped in the next room, he went to get it and brought it back to the table with him.

Gwen watched it all in a state of mild shock.

“So, how do you become a manners expert, Gwen? Is there like a school someplace or something?” Evie perched her chin on her fist and gave Gwen her full attention for the first time during the meal. Will even looked up from his BlackBerry to hear her answer.

Well, at least it was some progress. “There are several schools, actually. I have a B.A. in International Affairs, and I’ve attended protocol schools on both coasts. But my family was in the Foreign Service, so I’ve spent my entire life—”

“Really? Cool! Where did you live?” Evie spoke in a series of exclamation points, which wouldn’t be too bad if she would stop interrupting.

“D.C., Germany, England, Japan. Asian culture is a special interest of mine.” While she had Will’s attention, Gwen debated adding more to that statement in hopes he’d make the connection to what she could do for HarCorp’s expansion plans. The opportunity was lost almost immediately, though, as Evie sped on to the next topic of what was beginning to feel like an inquisition.

“Did you have to go to special classes and stuff so you wouldn’t embarrass your parents?”

“Um, sometimes. My mother’s a fiend for proper manners, and she taught me most of what I needed to know. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been allowed in public.” She punctuated the statement with a grin, but Evie stiffened and glanced at Will. Okay, that may have been a sore spot for her, but she’d meant the statement to be funny. With the slight tightening of Will’s jaw as well, she realized her attempt at humor had fallen flat. The light mood turned tense. So, it seemed that was a touchy subject in the Harrison household as well. She hurried on to cover the awkward moment. “But a lot can be learned from books, so I brought you some reading material.”

Evie rolled her eyes. “More homework.”

Will pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “You’ll have to excuse me, ladies. I have a conference call in ten minutes. I’ll leave you two to get to know each other.” A second later, he was gone.

Evie merely nodded and went back to her dinner. Gwen, however, felt her jaw hit the table before she could stop it. Jeez-Louise. A certain amount of laxity was allowed at family meals, but this was ridiculous. She chose her words carefully. “Is this a normal occurrence?”

Evie poked at her peas. “Not really.”

Gwen felt her shoulders sag. “Oh, good.”

Continuing to push her peas around aimlessly, Evie didn’t seem to notice Gwen’s relief. “Will normally eats in his office if he’s home. Sometimes we’ll watch a movie or something while we eat.” She looked around the dining room with interest. “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve eaten in here.”

Gwen choked, then swallowed her lecture on the importance of family meals taken at the table. Her own parents had been such sticklers for family meals, partly due to Mother’s abhorrence of the mere idea of a TV tray. One of the first things she did when she moved out on her own was to eat dinner in the living room. She’d felt so rebellious, she nearly had to call home to brag about her indiscretion.

Evie sat up straight in her chair, drawing Gwen’s attention back to the situation at hand. “How am I doing? Am I hopeless?”

The earnest, expectant look on her face was so different from the usual teenagers that suffered through her classes, and Gwen’s heart clenched at Evie’s need to please. “You’re not hopeless at all, just a little rough around the edges. Would you like to start your lessons tonight?”

Evie’s eager nod would have been almost comical if Gwen hadn’t seen that need exposed earlier. “Then sit up straight, feet on the floor…”

“It’s taken care of, Marcus. Evie’s lessons start today.” The old man could be such a nag.

“Who did you hire? Did you check her references?”

Will hadn’t; that’s what he paid his secretary for. But Marcus didn’t need to know that. “Gwen Sawyer came highly recommended. She does debutante training.”

Nancy came in with his third cup of coffee and an armload of reports, giving him an excuse to cut the conversation short without too much guilt. “Unless you have some company business to discuss…”

“No, no. Get back to work. I’ll be by Thursday evening to meet this Miss Sawyer.”

That was the problem with working with people who’d known you all your life, Will thought as he hung up the phone and turned to the stack of reports Nancy left on his desk. They never believe you’re actually an adult. He was perfectly capable of hiring a tutor for his sister without Marcus’s oversight.

Evie was certainly thrilled with Gwen. He’d seen her briefly this morning, and she’d chattered on in her usual nonstop fashion about all Gwen had taught her after he’d left the table. And she’d thanked him again for hiring the one and only Miss Behavior.

Evie’s excitement was the reason he was currently surfing TeenSpace instead of concentrating on the reports from Tokyo littering his desk. Well, it was part of the reason. He had to admit he was a bit interested in Gwen Sawyer as well. Too bad he had to leave the table last night for that conference call—he’d been enjoying himself.

Telling himself it was his responsibility as Evie’s guardian to check up on Gwen, he’d headed to the Web site Gwen mentioned the night before. TeenSpace was a headache- inducing riot of color and graphics about TV stars and bands he’d never heard of. In the top right-hand corner of the home page he found the link he was looking for. The “Miss Behavior” page loaded and Gwen’s picture smiled at him over the phrase “More Than Forks and Tea Cups…Etiquette for the Twenty-First Century.”

“Etiquette” seemed a pretty broad term for what Gwen was dispensing in her column. Drama and angst outnumbered true etiquette five to one. Gwen was certainly trying, though. In addition to letters from her readers, she had column after column of basic behavior skills. He had to give Gwen credit; she seemed to give sound advice that her readers accepted at face value, and she was extremely, well, polite about everything. Any reservations he might have been entertaining evaporated. Gwen was definitely the right choice for Evie. Out of curiosity, he typed “Miss Behavior” into Google. An article from the Tribune popped up first.

“She’s Not Your Mother’s Miss Manners” Miss Behavior, the new etiquette expert on the Dallas- based TeenSpace Web site, has taken more than Dallas by storm. Hits to the teen-centered site have tripled since she came on board nine months ago, and she gets more e-mail from the site than any other columnist. Part Miss Manners, part Dear Abby, her answers to teens’ modern-day etiquette dilemmas are succinct, sassy and spot-on. In real life, Miss Behavior is Gwen Sawyer, a Dallas etiquette consultant favored by debutantes…

Nancy buzzed the intercom, interrupting his reading.

“Mr. Harrison, Miss Sawyer is on line one.”

Already? Had Evie pushed her over the edge in less than twenty-four hours? “Gwen?”

“I’m sorry to bother you—so I won’t keep you but a minute—but I need to tell Mrs. Gray what time to serve dinner this evening. Is seven all right?”

“I’ll just grab something on the way home, so…”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to work.” Gwen sighed. “I’d hoped to talk to you about this last night at dinner but you were, um, called away before I could.”

Gwen sounded irritated. Evie must be giving her problems. “And?”

“If you want Evie to make progress, she’s going to need to practice. But she needs to practice with someone other than just me, and dinner is a perfect time. Every night would be best, but you’ll need to be home every other night at least.”

“I’m very busy—”

“I know, but we only have three weeks until the Med Ball. Do you or do you not want Evie to be ready?”

“Of course I want her to be ready—”

“Then we’ll see you at dinner. Seven o’clock. Goodbye, Will.”

His hackles went up. Who did she think she was? She worked for him. He buzzed Nancy with the intention of having her get Miss Behavior back on the line so he could get a few things straight about this arrangement…

An unfamiliar feeling stopped him. This was important for Evie; therefore, it was important to him. And what would it hurt after all? It would only be for a couple of weeks, and Mrs. Gray’s meals were a lot better than the take-away bistro on the corner.

“Yes, Mr. Harrison?”

“Find Mitchell and move our meeting back to five o’clock. I have to be out of here no later than six-thirty today.”

“Of course.”

“And, Nancy?”

“Yes, Mr. Harrison?”

He could not believe he was doing this. “Go through my appointment book and reschedule any meeting in the next three weeks that will run later than six.”

“Um…” He could hear the confusion in her voice, but she caught herself quickly. “Not a problem.”

Oh, it would be one hell of a problem. His schedule simply wasn’t that flexible. But he’d be able to assess Evie’s progress and report back 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 charm, and under Gwen’s gentle guidance, she was learning how to use it.

The light in Gwen’s room went dark, and he’d missed his chance to offer her a nightcap.

It was probably just as well—getting involved with his sister’s tutor in any way could only cause problems. If he’d learned nothing else from his father’s late-life love affair, he certainly knew the folly of fishing in the company pond. At least the various women Marcus kept pushing at him as potential partners would never cause the same embarrassment Rachel had. They had their own wealth, their own family connections—they didn’t need his in order to climb the social ladder.

Nope, he was better off enjoying the evening alone.

Then why did he have this lingering regret he hadn’t asked her earlier?