The Cinderella Mission (Family Secrets #1)(11)
Author: Catherine Mann

“And afterward?”

“We break up.”

Breaking up with a guy she’d never gotten to enjoy. That depressed her as much as the loss of his longer hair, the lost chance to test the length and texture with her fingers.

Ethan turned off the road, pausing at a security gate to punch in a code. Kelly peered through the metal bars.

This wasn’t just a big house. It was a mansion.

A white-columned palatial home sprawled before her. Towering evergreens with snowcapped branches proclaimed age and heritage. An iced-over fountain bigger than most pools perched in the middle of a horseshoe driveway.

All of Ethan’s altruistic qualities aside, he came from a different world. He might as well reside on a different planet. She’d harbored dreams and fantasies about this man for two years, and yet she didn’t know the first thing about him.

No doubt, their break up would be completely believable.

Steering up the drive, Ethan thought through the round of introductions he would have to make—housekeeper, chauffeur, cook. Thought of all the times he would touch Kelly like an attentive boyfriend. Like a lover.

His great plan had a serious flaw.

Too late now. Bottom line, this would protect Kelly on a number of levels. Not only would she be better prepared by his aunt, but Ethan also fully intended to follow through on the plan to teach her self-defense. Who knew what their digging into foreign embassy workings might stir? All the more reason to have her close by where he could guard her.

At least her voice wasn’t tormenting him anymore since she’d started clamming up four blocks ago. The tension emanating from her had increased with the size of the houses. He dreaded the moment she would turn and look at him differently, when she wouldn’t be able to see past the stacks of money to the man anymore.

The house might be his but it wasn’t him, and for some reason it became important that Kelly understand that.

Forget front-door welcomes. He didn’t want her first impression of his home to be some three-story winding staircase and a cathedral ceiling. He sped past the horseshoe driveway and circled around to the back. Pulling into the five-car garage, he parked between his aunt’s Mercedes and the housekeeper’s VW Beetle.

Ethan shut off the engine as the door slid closed behind them. “Leave your luggage. I’ll bring it up later when I take you to the main house. First, we’re going to head upstairs to the apartment.”

“Where I’m staying?”

“No.”

“Your Aunt Eugenie has a suite over the garage?”

“No. I do.” The surprised lift to her brow brought a rush of victory. He’d find his footing with this complex woman yet. “I thought you could use the time to ask any more questions before you meet everyone.”

“You mean questions about how you set me up.” Her eyes probed him with quiet censure.

She couldn’t have already figured out why he needed her here, could she? Heaven help him if he’d been too obvious about the socialite polish.

He reached behind the seat for her laptop computer to give himself a reason to look away. “Set you up?”

“By not telling me about the real reason for coming here.”

He twisted forward with her laptop and lapsed into the foolproof method of answering questions with questions. “Suppose you tell me since you do such a good job at spelling things out.”

“Because even with everything I said yesterday, you still don’t trust that I can keep my head on straight while posing as a couple. So you’ve planned this ‘lover practice’ in front of your servants for the next two weeks.”

Lover-practice. Now that had a tempting ring to it. “Kelly, I’m not doing anything more than I said. We’re here to work through leads in hopes of finding Alex Morrow before someone tortures him to death. And maybe we’ll be able to stop the whole heist attempt before the summit so a room full of people won’t be in danger. And if that doesn’t work, we’re going to make damned sure we both have every tool available so no one gets hurt.”

So Kelly wasn’t hurt.

He ignored the nagging voice that insisted he was already hurting her by not being honest. But he’d abandoned scruples long ago in favor of winning, and he wanted that thirty-year-old file on his parents.

Kelly threw her door open. “Then let’s get started.”

Ethan led her up the stairs, punching in the alarm code onto the pad outside his door before pushing inside. As always, he made a quick sweep through his barnlike studio apartment. He held up a hand for Kelly to stop while he took the six steps in three strides up to his loft bedroom. Closing the door behind him, he jogged up another half set of stairs to the open gallery computer area. Loping back down, he nodded. “All clear.”

“Do you always check your own house this thoroughly?”

She thought that was thorough?

“Yes.” He tucked his hands in his back pockets and cruised to a stop in the seldom-used kitchen area.

Kelly trailed a hand along the back of a gray leather sofa, her gaze sweeping the sparse furnishings. “So you brought me to your bachelor pad, after all.”

“I’ve never brought anyone outside of family here.”

Her gaze snapped up to meet his. Solemn brown eyes studied him with confusion and an odd sort of expectation he knew he couldn’t fulfill.

Ethan turned his back on eyes that threatened to become as tempting as her voice. “If we’re going to work together, this is the only truly secure place.” He swept an empty pizza box off the kitchenette table. “You can set up your laptop here today. I’ll arrange something better by tomorrow.”

Shrugging out of her coat, she strolled through the cavernous room. Her tennis shoes squeaked on the bright tiles his Aunt Eugenie had ordered from Italy. She’d insisted he needed something lively in his dark world.

“There’s certainly plenty of space. My apartment would fit in here twice.”

“I like how open it is.” Easier to watch. Even at home, he never relaxed his guard, probably hadn’t slept through the night since he was five.

Ethan pitched his jacket over a kitchen chair. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a can of orange juice for himself. “Want one? Or something more substantial—like a two-day-old burrito?”

He earned her genuine smile for the first time in twenty-four hours, a heady victory.

“No, thanks. I had breakfast already.”

Ethan elbowed the refrigerator closed and planned his next move for relaxing her. His computer system upstairs might not make a bad start.