Undercover Princess. Suzanne Brockmann

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      Well, now, that was interesting. Trey had never tried pushing Doug’s game to the extreme, actually trying to feed the kid dog food.

      The look on Dougie’s face was comical. Or, at least, it would have been had Trey found anything at all funny about the fact that his son was more comfortable as a canine than a human.

      “Good morning, Douglas,” Kathy said to him cheerfully, Mary Poppins in a sweatshirt. “Are you going to be a dog this morning or a boy? I bought the boy a special treat, but in order to have it, you’ve got to sit at the table and eat with a spoon.”

      Sure enough, she’d set a place at the table for Doug, in front of which was a pitcher of milk and a box of sugary cereal.

      Doug’s eyes widened, and then—for the first time in weeks, at least as far as Trey had heard—he actually spoke. “Lucky Charms!” He pushed himself onto his feet and ran for the table, sliding into his seat.

      And then, maybe even more miraculously, Stacy actually lifted her head from her own breakfast and smiled. Of course, her smile was for Kathy, who was smiling back at the girl and giving her a thumbs-up.

      Clearly, they’d been coconspirators in this Lucky Charms plot.

      Kathy was wearing black nail polish—a definite sign that she’d spent at least part of the evening in his daughter’s company. Trey was pleased. Or at least he hoped he was pleased.

      He leaned closer to Kathy, lowering his voice. “You didn’t leave the kids home by themselves to go buy that, did you?”

      She gave him her oh-dear look. “Of course not. I had it delivered.” She leaned closer. “Sorry about your toe.”

      She smelled amazingly good, a mixture of clean soap and some softly, delicately fragrant lotion. From this proximity, he could count the freckles that were scattered across her nose and cheeks. They took her adorableness to a completely new level. Why on earth would she ever want to cover them with makeup?

      “How do you get the grocery store to deliver that late at night?” he asked. Her eyes were a very light shade of gray-blue, with a very thin ring around the outside of the iris so dark it was nearly black. Her lashes were thick and lush and—Trey took a step back, suddenly aware they were still standing much too close.

      “You don’t,” she answered, putting the lid on the plastic container that held Stacy’s salad. “But if you’re creative, you order a pizza and then when it arrives, you tell the pizza delivery boy that he’ll get a twenty-dollar tip if he drops a box of Lucky Charms at the house before ten o’clock.”

      “I’ll pay you back,” Trey told her, leaning back against the counter and taking another sip of his coffee. “In fact, I meant to tell you to keep a list of your expenses.”

      “Of course.” She gave him another smile. “You look very nice this morning. I assume the suit means you’re going into your office?”

      “Thanks, and yeah.” He ran his hand through his hair, feeling absurdly pleased at her compliment. “I’ve got meetings all day.”

      She efficiently zipped Doug’s purple lunch box shut. “What time should we expect you home tonight?”

      “I’ll be back by nine,” he said. “In time for our meeting.”

      “Oh.” Kathy’s smile faded. “Not for dinner?”

      “I have a meeting that’s going to run late.”

      He’d disappointed her. She was trying hard not to show it, but he had. Clearly she’d had expectations—probably based on the fact that most families shared at least one meal together during the day.

      But the Sutherlands weren’t most families. Not by a long shot.

      “We need to go,” Stacy implored. “Doug, go brush your teeth. Quickly. You’ve got dog breath.” She gave Kathy another of her rare smiles as Doug vanished down the hallway. “He thinks that’s a compliment.” She rolled toward the door. “I’ll be out in the car.”

      “Take your lunch,” Kathy said. “And don’t forget to say goodbye to your father.”

      “Goodbye, Trey,” Stacy intoned. “Be sure to make lots and lots of money today because God knows the four billion we already have isn’t enough.”

      “In my country,” Kathy said, “we generally save our insults for the middle of the conversation. Greetings and farewells tend to be insult-free. A simple ‘enjoy your day’ will do quite nicely, please. And—call me old-fashioned—but everyone needs a hug in the morning.”

      Stacy’s smiles were long gone. She turned the hostility she usually reserved for Trey onto Kathy, full power. “I don’t.” The conviction in her words was countered by the way she hesitantly glanced at Trey.

      “That’s ridiculous.” Kathy softened her words with a smile that included Stacy in the joke. “I’ve never met anyone who couldn’t benefit from a hug.”

      Stacy narrowed her eyes, and Trey felt himself tense. That was never a good sign. Stacy had a temper that was too much like his own. She had moods like his, too. In fact, she was just too damn much like him across the board, poor kid.

      But to his surprise, she looked from Kathy to Trey and back again, and then smiled. But it wasn’t a nice smile. It was a calculating smile. Trey braced himself.

      “So, okay,” his daughter said. “If everyone really does need a hug in the morning, then you guys go first.”

      Trey looked at Kathy, who met his gaze with what he was sure was an equal look of shock.

      Um…

      Kathy blushed—what a surprise. And she laughed. “But I’m not family.”

      “Oh,” Stacy said. “I see. So you didn’t really mean that everyone needs a hug. You meant, only some people need hugs. And I’m telling you that I’m not one of—”

      “No,” Kathy said in her, I may sound friendly but I’m not taking any lip voice. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m actually in dire need of one, this being my first full day at a new job, not to mention the fact that I’m thousands of miles from my home and my family. I was simply expecting to get my share of hugs from you and Douglas, that’s all.”

      “We’re hug-challenged,” Stacy told her. “Sutherlands are pros at the air kiss—we embrace with as little body contact as possible. And when we want to get turned on, we shake hands, mostly because it reminds us of making a business deal.”

      Stacy crossed the kitchen and gave Trey an exaggerated air kiss about three feet from his cheek. “Enjoy your day,” she said tightly. “Try to limit yourself to only three hostile takeovers today, okay, Dad?” She grabbed her skateboard and went out the door. The screen door banged shut behind her.

      “Oh, dear,” Kathy said. “I’m sorry, I—”

      “She’s right.” It wasn’t even seven-thirty, and Trey already had a pounding headache. “As a family, we’re…not very affectionate.”

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