She stopped struggling. “I didn’t notice that part. I was too busy being mad at you.”
He laughed and dropped a kiss on her nose, holding himself back before he moved any lower. Once he started kissing her, he planned on kissing her forever. “You just sat through your very first night as a society lady. You know that, right? You did exactly what Jenna has been preparing you for.”
“What?” She wrinkled her nose. “I did not.”
“Nine-tenths of the functions I’m forced to attend are the same as the one I set up for you tonight. There’s dinner and drinks, someone getting an award for something great they did. Long speeches. Uncomfortable clothes. You won’t always be the recipient of the award, of course, but if I know you, you’ll get your fair share of them.”
“You’re talking nonsense.”
“No, I’m not. I’m talking as a man who’s seen the best and the worst that philanthropy brings out in people. Some people part with money only because they have to. Others do it because they have genuinely good hearts. I promise that even though we look and act like pieces of overdressed fluff, most of us can tell the difference.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against her coveralls, right where her heart was. “I know you think fitting in with my family means looking put together and knowing which fork to use, but it’s not. Not really. Yes, there’s an occasional wedding like Ashleigh’s, which is all about name-dropping and coming up with the most impressive guest list, but most of the time, you can fill your days with whatever project makes you happiest. Houses or hair or whatever else you have planned.”
“I don’t...” She looked up at him, her expression full of wary regard. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
He had never been more sure, especially when she paused and waited—still wary—allowing him a moment to organize his thoughts. “I’m quitting the hotels to focus solely on the foundation.”
“Oh, Monty. That’s fantastic.”
He nodded, basking in her genuine pleasure for him, eager to offer her the same thing. “I never should have left you to deal with my family on your own, but I thought that if I could separate the two parts of my life—before and after, then and now, them and you—it would be easier for me to find a way out. But you made me realize today that I don’t want out. Not all the way. If you can suck it up and tackle the occasional society wedding, then so can I.”
“How many weddings are we talking?”
He couldn’t help himself. “Hopefully, at least one more.” Then, because the wariness in her eyes turned to outright fear, he added, “I was also hoping I could convince you to help me with that international school construction project I told you about. We could do so much together, you and I.”
“Together?” Her voice faltered.
“Yes, Georgia. Together—in this and in everything.” He ducked his head and said the hardest words of all. “I don’t think I can do this on my own anymore. I’m scared to go back to the man I was before. He wasn’t happy.”
“And now?”
He allowed his lips to drop to hers. “I can’t promise you much, but I can say with absolutely certainty that no man will work harder or more diligently to deserve you. You’re my favorite person in the whole world, Georgia. And even though you might not see it now, I plan on doing whatever it takes to convince you.”
* * *
It only took about twenty minutes.
For the first five minutes, Monty made her recite the list of compliments she’d received at dinner. Her kindness and her strength, her diligence and dedication. It was a long, boring list, and she squirmed to get away, but each time she slipped in another adjective, Monty rewarded her with a kiss.
“This isn’t fair,” she said after she admitted to being a good swimmer on top of everything else. She was running out of positive attributes. “You act like I’m the only person in the world who can’t take a compliment.”
“You are the only person in the world who can’t take a compliment.”
She blinked up at him, dazed by the combination of his body pressing down against hers and the adoration she saw in his eyes, but not too dazed to lose sight of what really mattered. Him. He was what mattered—more than all the weddings and all the charity dinners and all the publicity photos she feared were headed her way.
“You’re fun, Monty.”
He stopped moving, startled into immobility. “What?’
“You’re fun and you’re funny and you’re fascinating.” She pressed her lips against his after each one, her rewards not nearly as heady as his, but hopefully just as powerful. “You rise to every challenge without blinking and are somehow the kindest, most generous person I’ve ever known despite having an obscene amount of money.”
“I thought we were talking about you.”
“You’re interesting, Monty. I could spend years getting to know you and still have more to discover.”
His eyes narrowed as he realized he was being paid back in full. “Oh, yeah? Well, when I look at you, I don’t just see a woman I admire. I see a woman I love, and she’s the most beautiful woman in the world.”
She almost choked on the sob that rose to her throat. “Liar.”
“No.” His strong hands came down and stroked the side of her face, his touch so light and reverent she knew, in that moment, he meant every word. “You take my breath away, Georgia Lennox.”
“I love you too,” she whispered. It was all she could manage.
This time, she wasn’t rewarded with only a kiss. She was rewarded with a full-body explosion of pleasure. She was rewarded with John Montgomery the Third—sex god, philanthropist, millionaire, man.
He was on top of her. He was inside of her. He was part of her.
And it was beautiful.
Epilogue
“Lift with your legs, Adam. Not your back. I swear, it’s as if you’re trying to injure yourself so you don’t have to keep helping.”
Adam dropped the bag of concrete he’d been carrying to flip Monty his middle finger. “How do you not have enough money to hire people to build your house for you? This has to be breaking all kinds of laws. You’re not a family in need, for fuck’s sake.”
“Is he whining again?” Georgia marched by, carrying two of the bags of cement without a falter in her step. She even managed to stop and land a kiss on Monty’s lips. “Adam, I bought lunch. Considering how much you eat, that’s like paid labor.”
“You didn’t buy lunch. Your fancy cook made it. And I’m pretty sure there wasn’t any gluten in it.” Adam hoisted the bag again, this time using his legs. “What’s the point in my eating away from home if I can’t have any gluten? Nancy’s killing me with this diet.”
“I’ll sneak you a bag of donuts next week,” Charlie promised, following in his wake. “The good kind. With sprinkles.”
It was Monty’s turn to grab two bags of the cement and follow the siblings along the well-worn path to the orchard. There, already paced out and ready to go up, was an exact facsimile of the houses built under the Homeward Bound name. It wouldn’t be the grandest establishment on the Montgomery Manor grounds, but Monty couldn’t wait until it was finished. Simple and practical, its design fusing function and strength to create its own kind of appeal, it would make the perfect residence for a newlywed couple eager to move out of their parents’ houses for the very first time.
He dropped the sack with a thud, breathing in dirt and cement dust and fresh air. He’d be paying for this day off by working extra tomorrow, but that was okay. Georgia had already informed him she had plenty of shit to do in the meantime. Between Homeward Bound and the dozens of other projects she was starting up, he suspected she logged more working hours than he did these days.
“Is this when I’m supposed to carry you across the threshold?” he asked, and didn’t wait for a reply as he swooped her into h
is arms and marched across the line of dirt that currently marked the perimeter.
She kicked and flailed, but didn’t release her arms from around his neck until he’d taken his time to drop a slow and lazy kiss on her mouth.
“Gross.” Danny brushed past them with a sigh. “Didn’t you guys do the whole threshold thing last time?”
“Yes.” And the time before that. And the time before that. And pretty much every day since they’d decided this was where they wanted to build their home together. “So get used to it.”
But as soon as her brothers were out of sight, he dropped his voice to a whisper, running his lips along the side of Georgia’s neck as he did. “Are you sure it was a wise idea to recruit the Testosterone Trio for this? I’m half afraid they’re going to forget support beams or cross wires on purpose so we die in our sleep.”
“Oh, they will. This house is going to be one strong wind away from collapsing altogether.” Georgia released a sigh of pure pleasure—a sound he was proud to state came at regular, sex-god-elicited intervals now. “At the first sign of natural disaster, we’ll probably be trapped inside. Whatever will we do?”
Whatever they wanted, of course. “Just remind me not to get you a kitten for your birthday.”
* * * * *
Fall in love with the rest of the modern-day
upstairs/downstairs romance in Tamara Morgan’s
Montgomery Manor series!
If I Stay
Book one of Montgomery Manor
Creek, Connecticut. After losing his high-adrenaline career as a Hollywood stunt driver, he’s had to tuck his tail between his legs and take up employment as a chauffeur for the Montgomerys, a wealthy hotelier family.
Amy Sanders has returned home to Ransom Creek to take over her mother’s former position as nanny to the Montgomerys—bringing her close to dashing Jake Montgomery once again. She grew up with a major crush on Jake, and it’s not easy to leave those feelings behind, even though her friendship with the hard-edged family chauffeur, Ryan, has a sizzling undercurrent of undeniable attraction.
Amy’s determined to prove to Ryan that life at Montgomery Manor isn’t all bad, but each time they draw closer Jake swoops in. Amy is torn between two men—and two worlds. And Ryan is rapidly coming to learn that if he wants to make Amy his, he’ll have to prove to her that life downstairs can be everything they both want.
When I Fall
Book two of Montgomery Manor
Socialite Rebecca Clare gets through life one vodka tonic at a time. Emotionally shattered after her best friend’s death, she’s cast as the latest pseudo-celebrity screwup and hounded by paparazzi 24/7. So naturally, the cameras are rolling when she gets into a scrap at a club (he started it). But then an unexpected white knight steps in.
Playing caretaker isn’t Jake Montgomery’s usual role, but Becca is his stepmother’s little sister. As they bond over their bad reputations, they find they have a lot more in common than the spotlight. When a photo of the nightclub incident goes viral, it raises protective instincts that Jake never knew he had. What better way to save Becca—and the family—from scandal than by claiming he’s her fiancé?
Becca agrees to play along, never expecting a fake engagement to feel so right. But she’s vowed never to depend on a man for happiness; how can Jake convince her that falling in love is worth the risk?
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About the Author
Tamara Morgan is a contemporary romance author of humorous, heartfelt stories with flawed heroes and heroines designed to get your hackles up and make your heart melt. Her long-lived affinity for romance novels survived a BA degree in English literature, after which time she discovered it was much more fun to create stories than analyze the life out of them.
Whether building Victorian dollhouses, consuming mass quantities of coffee and wine, or crying over cheesy 1950s musicals, Tamara commits to her flaws like every good heroine should. She lives in the Inland Northwest with her husband, daughter and variety of household pets, and only occasionally complains about the weather.
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ISBN-13: 9781426898952
Because I Can
Copyright © 2014 by Tamara Morgan
Edited by Deborah Nemeth
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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Because I Can (Montgomery Manor) Page 33