by Joss Wood
‘You should at least respect them enough to give them a chance to try.’
‘I respect myself too much to be constantly putting my heart out there to possibly be broken,’ Morgan retorted.
‘Are you feeling comfortable in your little self-protected world?’ Riley asked sweetly.
‘Yes, thank you very much! The world expects something from “the Moreau heiress” and being chronically dyslexic isn’t part of the package.’
Riley mimed playing the violin and Morgan threw a cushion at her head. Riley groaned as it hit her wine glass and wine splashed all over the table.
Noah walked in through the front door as the wine glass fractured and broke. He looked from Riley to the broken glass and back to the spilt wine before finally looking at Morgan. ‘Duchess; are you throwing a temper tantrum because another of your subjects has disagreed with you?’
SEVEN
After ordering pizza from their favourite pizzeria Morgan called James, checked that he was home and told him to come down and share their meal. He arrived with two bottles of her favourite wine: a Merlot from their winery in Stellenbosch.
‘One for you and one for Riley, my two favourite wine-o-holics,’ he said, depositing them on the kitchen counter. ‘Hey, Ri.’
‘James.’
James yanked open a drawer and pulled out a corkscrew. ‘Started on the designs for my underwater window yet?’
‘Yeah, I’ve scheduled it in for...never. Does that work for you?’ Riley replied as she opened a cupboard door and took out four glasses.
‘You do remember that I sign your paycheque, don’t you?’ James retorted.
‘Then fire me; I’ll pick up a job with Saks or Bergdorfs with one phone call. And they’ll double my salary,’ Riley replied in the same genial tone. ‘Actually, why don’t you double my salary and I’ll consider staying?’
‘Okay, I’ll schedule that in for...never. Does that work for you?’ James dumped some wine into her glass and handed it over. ‘Cheers.’
‘Bite me.’ Riley took the glass and stomped over to the lounge, resuming her seat on the floor next to the coffee table.
Morgan rolled her eyes at Noah, who was sitting at the dining room table, his laptop in front of him, a glass of whisky at his elbow. He was dressed in battered faded jeans and a casual cotton shirt and his feet were bare. Sure, he was a sexy man, but he was also a man who didn’t hold a grudge. They’d had a rocky day or two following her outburst at the ball and now they were back to being friends.
But it would be so much more fun if he was hanging around because he wasn’t being paid to do so.
‘Is anyone doing anything about finding those kidnappers?’ she demanded, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at James.
‘Only the NYPD, our own security and another private investigation firm I hired to find them. That not enough for you, Your Majesty?’ James pushed a glass across the granite counter in her direction.
‘Your Majesty? That’s even better than Duchess!’ Noah smirked.
‘Call me that and you’re dead,’ Morgan warned him. ‘Riley and I need to talk about themes for the ball,’ she said, hastily changing the subject. ‘Would you like to be part of that conversation?’
James and Noah exchanged identical horrified looks. ‘Sports channel?’
‘Hell, yeah!’ Noah agreed, and followed James to the smaller second lounge. It held a large-screen TV and two comfortable couches.
He spoke over his shoulder to Morgan. ‘Call me when the pizza arrives. I’ll go down and get it. Do not leave the apartment.’
‘Blah-blah-blah,’ Morgan muttered in reply, and pulled her tongue at his back.
‘I saw that!’ Noah called, without turning around.
Morgan pulled her tongue again at his reply.
‘I saw that too.’
Grrr.
* * *
‘Treasure ship, masked ball, burlesque, the Russian Court, Vegas,’ Morgan listed through mouthfuls of pizza. They were surrounded by files of fabric samples and Riley’s rough sketches. Morgan was curled up into the corner of the couch, Riley was still in place on the floor, and James sat in the chair behind her, his long legs on either side of her slim frame. Noah sat in the other chair, a glass of gorgeous red wine on the table next to him.
It could be a group of friends in any other lounge in any other city in the world, just hanging out and eating excellent pizza. It was so normal, and he was still coming to terms with how normal the Moreau siblings could be. Yes, James ran a multi-billion-dollar corporation, and Morgan had an unlimited trust fund, but nobody, seeing them now, would guess that.
‘I like the burlesque theme. Bold, opulent, sexy.’ Morgan said dreamily. ‘We could have various stages scattered throughout the ballroom with different acts to the same singer. Burlesque routines, circus acts, acrobatics...’
‘Strippers?’ James asked hopefully, and Noah smiled.
Morgan sent him a cold look. ‘Would you like me to get disinherited? Or to be dead because our mother has killed me? Anyway, we could have models dressed in corsets and thigh-high stockings and masquerade masks, all wearing Moreau jewellery.’
Noah’s head whipped up as her words made sense in his head. ‘Not a chance,’ Noah told her. ‘No live models wearing any jewellery.’
‘Why not?’ Morgan demanded. ‘It would be brilliant...’
‘It would be stupid,’ Noah replied. ‘You’re adding a human element that can be exploited; nobody but me and your curator gets access to those jewels.’
‘But...’ Morgan started to protest.
Noah stared her down. ‘My reputation, my rules. Remember?’
‘Arrgh. We’ll discuss it another time,’ Morgan said.
She was like a dog with a bone, Noah thought. Stubborn and wilful. Why did that turn him on? Then again, everything about her turned him on.
Riley leaned her head on James’s knee and yawned. Noah noticed that James lifted his hand to touch her hair, thought about it and dropped it again. Oh, yeah, there was definitely something brewing with those two. Some day the lid on their self-control would pop and they’d find themselves in a heap of trouble.
Just like he would...
Living with Morgan was killing him. Not sleeping with Morgan made every day a torture. And he knew that she felt exactly the same way. He saw it in the way she looked at him; her eyes would deepen with passion and her breath would catch in her throat and he’d know...just know...that she had them naked and up against the wall. When...if...they finally got to do this, New York would experience a quake of significant proportions.
Unfortunately his problems with Morgan went a lot deeper than he’d ever thought possible. Right down to the core of who he was.
He’d never had such a physical reaction to anyone, ever. Why it had to be Morgan he had no idea. She could send him from nought to sixty in a heartbeat and have him laughing while she did it. And that was the reason why he had to keep his distance from her—physically, emotionally. He would never give anyone control over him.
She had the ability to make him lose it; definitely in bed, possibly emotionally and, most terrifying of all, in anger. She really knew how to push his buttons. What if they had a fight and he was pushed too far? What would he do? Who would he become? Would he revert to that angry feral boy who’d stood in that grotty kitchen and held a knife to his father’s throat? The kid who had watched as droplets of blood beaded on that stubbled neck, enjoyed the sour smell of fear that permeated the air? The Noah who had seriously considered ending it all...the insults, the abuse, the weight of responsibility that had landed on his shoulders?
That person scared him: the uncontrolled, wild, crazy person he could be when he allowed emotion to rule. He was currently locked in a cage and sensible; controlled Noah kept g
uard over him. And sensible Noah could only do that if he stayed away from emotional complications. Like Morgan.
He couldn’t afford to let Morgan in, to allow his guard down, to be the person he could be...
It wasn’t going to happen with her or with anyone else.
‘What do you think, Noah?’ James asked him.
Noah pulled himself back to the conversation. What had they been talking about? Were they still discussing the theme of the ball?
‘Burlesque sounds good,’ he said lamely.
Morgan laughed as she tossed the crust of her slice of pizza into the empty box. ‘Where did you go? We’re talking about going home for the wedding. We’re leaving in a fortnight.’
Noah sat up, ran a hand over his lower jaw and slapped his brain into gear. ‘Back up. Going home? Where? What wedding? Why didn’t you tell me about this?’
Morgan pouted. ‘I’d hoped this would be over by then.’
‘I asked you for a detailed schedule of everything you were committed to in the foreseeable future. Why wasn’t this wedding on it?’ Noah demanded. How was he supposed to protect her if she didn’t keep him informed? Honestly, it was like dealing with an octopus with twenty tentacles.
Riley looked at James. ‘I think this is our cue to leave so that they can fight without an audience.’
‘I do not fight,’ Noah growled. ‘I negotiate.’
‘No, he orders. He just tells me what to do and expects me to stand there and take it,’ Morgan agreed, unfurling her long legs. She stood up, kissed Riley and then James on their cheeks as she said goodnight.
James hugged her, stood back and brushed her hair from her forehead. ‘You’re my sister, and I know you can be a pain in the butt. Don’t make this harder for him than it has to be. Don’t forget to tell him about Johnno’s exhibition tomorrow night, and the Moreau Polo Cup Challenge on Saturday at Liberty Park. Then we go to the wedding in Stellenbosch in two weeks’ time.’
‘Got it.’ Morgan cut Noah a glance, and when she spoke again her attitude was pure factitiousness. ‘Noah, we have an art exhibition tomorrow night, a polo cup on Saturday and a wedding in Stellenbosch in two weeks’ time. Put them on the schedule.’
Noah’s face promised retaliation. Bring it on, soldier.
Noah bade Riley and James goodnight and waited until the door had closed behind them before turning back to Morgan. ‘Stellenbosch, South Africa?’
‘Yep,’ Morgan answered flippantly.
He didn’t respond—just waited for a further explanation for why she hadn’t thought it was important to fill him in.
Morgan tapped her foot in irritation. ‘The kidnappers are in New York. I’m going on the private jet to my home town, where I know everyone, to a wedding that has more security than the Pentagon.’
‘Why?’
‘Merri, my friend, is marrying into a very influential, very connected political family. Security will be tight.’
‘And where will you be staying?’
‘At Bon Chance—our house on the family farm. Vineyard.’ Morgan picked up the empty pizza boxes and the bottle of wine. ‘Grab the glasses, will you?’
‘Good plan, since you might throw something when I tell you that I’m coming too.’
Morgan’s shoulders stiffened at his sarcasm. ‘I told you—it’s not necessary. James and Riley will be staying in the house, as well as James’s protection people, and the wedding will be secure. The kidnappers are here in New York!’
Noah walked over to the dishwasher, yanked it open and dumped the glasses inside. ‘I’m going, Morgan. Until the threat to you is neutralised I’m sticking to you like a shadow. Now, I can either go as your date-cum-bodyguard or just as your bodyguard. I’m equally comfortable with either. Your choice.’
‘That might be a bit awkward.’
Awkward... He didn’t see why. Morgan turned away and Noah frowned. Strangely it took him a minute to make the connection. ‘You’ve asked someone else to be your date?’
Morgan nodded. ‘Yes. ‘
Noah managed to keep his face implacable but inside he fought the urge to punch his fist into that shiny, fancy fridge. ‘Who is he?’ he said through gritted teeth.
‘A friend. An old friend.’
‘That’s not all of it,’ Noah pushed.
Morgan whirled around. ‘Do you want the details? Okay, then! He’s an ex-boyfriend who I’m still fond of. He’s also a friend of Merri’s and we keep in touch. Satisfied?’
‘Not by a long shot,’ Noah snapped, forcing down the green tide of jealousy swelling up his throat. He made himself stop thinking about Morgan in someone else’s arms—dancing, laughing, flirting with another man. This was business... What would he do if it was only business?
He breathed deeply and forced himself to think the problem through. ‘If the security at the wedding is as good as you say it is, then I’ll deliver you to the wedding and pick you up when you’re done.’
Morgan’s eyes sparked with anger. ‘What if I want to sleep over?’
Was she trying to kill him? Seriously? ‘That’s not going to happen, Duchess, unless it’s with me.’
‘Big words from a man who won’t even let himself touch me unless he’s pretending to be my date!’ Morgan hissed.
Give me strength, Noah prayed. ‘I gave your brother my word.’ He pushed the words out through gritted teeth.
‘Well, there’s no law that says I have to wait for you, soldier. So if I want to sleep with someone then I will.’
‘You bloody well won’t!’ Noah gripped her arms with his hands. His eyes glittered and he could feel his temper licking the edges of his tongue. ‘What would be the point, anyway? You’d be imagining it was me the whole time.’
‘You arrogant—’ Morgan placed her hands on his chest and shoved.
Annoyed beyond reason, he gripped her shoulders with his big hands and fought the urge to shake her. Instead he slammed his mouth onto hers and yanked her up against his body. He placed one hand low on her back, fingers spread out over her backside, and his other hand held her head in place. Her made-for-sin mouth was hot below his.
Noah could feel her mentally fighting him, her mind cursing him, even though he knew that her body wanted this as much as he did. Pure orneryness kept her mouth clamped shut, and her slim body was rigid with shock. Dropping his hand from her head, he stroked her arm, urging her to relax, and eventually both their tempers ebbed away under the sensual heat they created.
He knew that Morgan was trying to fight the temptation to wind her arms around his neck and fall into his body. It seemed so long since he had touched her, and yet it was like yesterday. She was toned, yet fragile, hot and sexy.
Noah concentrated on applying exactly the right amount of pressure and kept his hands still. He kissed the corner of her mouth and slowly worked his way inwards, nibbling and caressing as he went along. His tongue flicked and retreated, coaxed hers out to play. He sighed in triumph as she groaned and opened her mouth to his. Instantly his tongue accepted her invitation and curled around hers while he pulled her close.
Unable to resist this a moment longer, Morgan threw her arms around his neck and moulded her body against his. Plunging her fingers in his hair, she wound a calf around his and pressed herself up against his hard frame.
Long, luscious, passion-soaked minutes later Noah knew that he’d reached the point of no return—that if he carried on for another minute he would be lost, doing exactly what he wouldn’t allow himself to do. It took every ounce of his legendary self-control to wrench his mouth from hers, to step back, to meet her eyes.
He moved his hand so that he held her jaw, brushed his thumb over her full bottom lip.
Morgan spoke, frustration in her passion-smoked voice. ‘You’re really stopping?’
He nodded
and jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans so that he didn’t reach for her again. ‘Really am.’
He watched as Morgan’s smoky eyes cleared and confusion replaced heat. ‘I don’t know why, or how, you can even start it. Especially knowing that you’re not going to take it further.’
All he knew for sure was that he was a masochist, a glutton for punishment. He could try to explain—temper, jealousy, they were all factors—but his biggest motivator was that at that moment he hadn’t been able not to kiss her.
Noah watched as the last spark of fight went out of Morgan. She took a step towards him, dropped her head and curled her fingers into his shirt.
‘I hate this,’ she said in a small voice.
And he hated the thought that he—this crazy situation between them—could make her sound so small, defeated.
He resisted the urge to pull her into his embrace, to soothe her. He didn’t do touchy-feely so he just stood there, trying to ignore the surge of protectiveness that threatened to knock his feet from under him.
‘Hate what?’ he asked quietly.
‘This...all of this. The bodyguarding. Being so attracted to you, not being able to touch you, to get it...you...out of my system.’ Morgan rested her forehead in the middle of his chest. ‘It’s horrible... I don’t like feeling this out of control.’
‘I know.’
He had to touch her, so Noah rubbed his hand up and down her spine. It was killing him too. His hand moved up between her shoulder blades onto her neck and under her head. He pulled the hair at the back of her neck and gently tipped her head back.
‘I gave my word...it’s important to me that I keep it,’ he said, looking down into her mesmerising eyes.
‘I know. Dammit...I respect that. I just don’t like it!’
Tell him something he didn’t know. He didn’t consider it a lazy day on the beach either.
Morgan stepped back, wrapped her arms around her waist and tipped her head to one side. ‘I wish I could yell at you—scream. I want to act like a diva and fire you and stomp away and throw things.’