The Surprise Princess by Patricia McLinn Read Free Book Online

plots, mostly bungalows in red brick, beige brick or white frame. He drove with a confidence, even anticipation – slowing for a school zone before they reached it – that made her think he knew the area.
    Could this side-trip be why he’d wanted to leave so early? She’d thought he probably had plans to meet someone. A female someone. The hotel had seemed more likely than this neighborhood — especially since he was bringing her along.
    Still, this gave her the opportunity to say something she needed to say.
    She licked her lips. “Brad, I want you to know, I don’t expect you to entertain me. I can meet you at the games.” He looked over at her and she quickly added, “We don’t have to sit together, of course. I appreciate the ride, but I can find my own way—”
    “Two of us going to the same place, but going separately? That doesn’t make sense. Think of the budget.”
    She almost smiled. Instead, she looked down the side streets as they passed, seeing more rows of neat houses, some with snowmen standing guard. “Still, if you have plans. Things you want to do while you’re in Chicago…” Women you want to see. “I’m perfectly happy to entertain myself and make my own way.”
    “I do have a few things I want to do in addition to work, but I was counting on you doing them with me.” The side of his mouth she could see lifted. “Nothing wicked.”
Darn it
. That thought, even in the privacy of her own mind, brought heat into her cheeks she knew from experience was accompanied by color.
    He glanced at her, curiosity in his eyes, but he didn’t ask. So she didn’t have to lie.
    “Besides,” he said, “this side trip means we won’t have time to do anything before the game except check in and get something to eat. So anything else will wait until tomorrow.”
    He turned left, cruised almost to the end of a long block and parallel parked with practiced precision.
    With a hand under her elbow he guided her onto the porch of a neat frame house painted white.
    He rang the doorbell. A head bobbed into view through the lowest of three rectangular windows high on the door and disappeared.
    As the main door swung open, a mildly scolding voice came, “You said you were going to call.”
    “I was afraid you’d scoot out on me if you knew I was coming.”
    A robust laugh erupted from a short gray-haired woman no one would ever think to call a little old lady.
    “Andy, this is Katie Davis, she’s C.J.’s executive assistant and she runs the basketball office. Katie, this is my grandmother, Andrea Colecchi Spencer.”
    Brad’s hand at the small of her back urged Katie forward at the same time the woman gripped her hand in something between a shake and a tug, drawing her inside.
    “Ah, Katie,” she said as if she’d had a suspicion confirmed. “Come in, come in before all the cold air in Chicago rushes in.”
    “Let me take your coat,” Brad said. His attempt to follow through had them bumping and brushing in the small entry. “Andy, back up. You’ve got us hemmed in here and your grand entry hall would make most elevators seem spacious.”
    “Oh, dear, I am sorry. I had no intention…”
    As she twisted out of her coat, Katie caught Brad regarding his grandmother with an arrested – and slightly wary – expression.
    The older woman stepped back, the coats were removed and hung up and they stepped into a small living room. A mantel over a decorative fireplace glittered with a closely-packed assemblage of trophies, framed photos, and plaques.
    “A few of Brad’s awards,” Andrea Spencer said with a would-be casual gesture.
    “The shrine,” Brad muttered behind her.
    “Most are packed away, of course, since there’s no room for even a significant portion of them.”
    He groaned.
    “These come from his playing days at Ashton, just as he predicted. So he was right about going there. I was wrong. There. I said it. I was wrong.”
    “Once, according to you,” he said with a grin, then