Secret Dad

by Victoria Pinder

  Whoever called her right now could call again later or leave a voice mail. Nothing was more important than building a connection with Rafe. She waved her hand. "No. What are your New Year’s plans?"

  His brow lifted. "I don't have any. I know it’s in a few days. Are you inviting me somewhere?"

  "Could be. Would you be interested?" She gave Brandon another slice of grilled cheese sandwich.

  Rafe's voice reverberated through her as he said, "I'd like my mom and sister to meet Brandon."

  Her mood deflated. She wasn't ready to answer all the questions a meeting would require. Perhaps she was being selfish, but she’d just had her baby returned after a week of terrifying fear where she’d imagined the worst. "Ohh."

  His shoulders tightened at her hesitation. "Is that an issue?"

  Inside her stomach churned and she lowered her head as her face heated. She wasn't ready. "Can we keep your paternity between us for a while?"

  His eyes narrowed. "Why? Are you ashamed of me?"

  “That’s not it!” If she said the wrong thing, everything might be ruined. She glanced at Brandon who stared at Rafe with adoration in his eyes. Elizabeth reached out to hold the man’s firm hand and the baby’s soft one. "I want us to settle into a routine and trust each other before we start bringing more people into the fold. My last name is now Morgan and that tends to cause chaos."

  Silence between them helped in that second while he gazed at her. Finally he broke the moment, lowered his voice and asked, “Was life easier as a Marshall?”

  “Yes. No one blinked at the name and wondered my relation to anyone.”

  He squeezed her hand, his eyes warm. "We'll introduce Brandon slowly to my family then. I've not seen my mother to tell her yet, and I want what’s best for Brandon and you. However I’m not going anywhere and I want to make up for lost time."

  "Thank you. I’d like that too. Family is important to me."

  "I see that. I’m dreading the look in your brother's eyes when I go over there after lunch to discuss the search for Belle. I'm collecting the coast guard information, but he's going to want me to say I found her when I haven't. If he knew I was Brandon's father…“ He took out his keys and tossed them in the air. “I don't know how to explain. I betrayed my place."

  Her gaze narrowed as she leaned across her plate. What did he mean? "What place?"

  He pocketed the keys. "I am the son of the hired help and I never should have touched you."

  His calloused hands sent a ripple of excitement through her. She didn't want to break the connection and money didn’t matter at all. What mattered was integrity and Rafe had plenty of that.

  “That’s silly. I don’t think like that.” While she loved her family, the most important was her mom, who loved them all—and she’d told Liz that Rafe was a good man. "Peter doesn't get much say in my life. I met him a week ago, he and Belle."

  "Belle. My mother and sister both said she was amazing. The longer she's missing…."

  Her mouth made a tisk sound that echoed in her heart. "Poor Peter."

  Rafe dropped her hand. "I don't want to think about Mr. Morgan."

  Mr.? She crossed her hand across her stomach. "You went to school with him. Why Mr.?"

  He picked up his fork and knife as he cut a piece of chicken. "I like to keep a professional distance. While we were in the same classes and drove home together, I knew he was the heir to the House of Morgan and I was the help."

  A blast of cold air hit her spine. "I was raised without the last name. I judge people based on who they are, and not what they have. When we tell everyone you're Brandon's father, no one will ever call you the hired help again."

  Brandon then hit his tray. "Da."

  Rafe and she both relaxed their shoulders and turned toward Brandon. He giggled and picked up his grilled cheese. Rafe coughed and then lowered his voice. "Honestly..."

  She scooted closer to both of them. "Yes?"

  Rafe held out his hand and patted Brandon's head. Her son beamed at the attention and offered him a brilliant smile with those loving eyes of his. Rafe must have felt that too as he said, "Being his father scares me because your last name is Morgan."

  A giggle escaped her lips too as Brandon cooed at the attention he received. "I am not a Morgan in the way you talk about.” She ripped a roll in half and added butter to it. “Being his mother scared me, all the time at first, and look what happened. He was kidnapped and it was all my fault. I should have been stronger.”

  “They were professional kidnappers and you were the target, Liz. They knew how to get to you. It’s not your fault.” Rafe gazed intently in her eyes. "I won't let anything happen to you or him, ever again. On that you have my word."

  They both ate their meals in silence. As she wiped her mouth after she finished the last bite, she sipped her lemonade and studied Rafe.

  Strong muscular frame, a handsome profile, thick dark hair that her fingers ached to touch and find out if it was coarse or smooth. She held perfectly still as she remembered how carnal his kisses had been. Heat built inside her and the lemonade did little to appease her. She glanced at the table. "Rafe?"

  He wiped his mouth with the napkin and then nodded. "Yes?"

  If they were to function as a family unit of sorts, she had to figure out how to add him to her life without these sensual memories. She lowered her gaze to hide her thoughts. "Do you want to try this again tomorrow? Lunch?"

  "I have to work."

  "What time do you get off?"

  "I can be here by seven, if dinner is okay instead."

  A huge sigh came out of her mouth and she hadn't even known she’d held her breath. She cleaned Brandon's fingers with a napkin and Rafe decided to tackle his other hand and face. "Then I'll have dinner for us and you can help me tuck Brandon into bed."

  He stared at their son with such intensity, and then he switched his gaze to her and it felt like he truly saw into her soul. "I'd like that."

  Brandon was done eating and his eyes were at half-mast as he fought sleep. She placed her napkin beside her and picked him up. He'd need new clothes and a nap. "Then it's settled."

  Rafe placed his hand on her back as she led them inside the mansion and away from the Intracoastal. She walked with him to the front door with Brandon in her arms.

  "Liz, thank you for being sweet today. You have no idea how different you are than your last name suggests, or what the House of Morgan represents to me."

  She paused at the door. As a single woman, she'd have angled for a kiss. However, she was a mom now. She held her son on her hip as she nodded. "I'm just being me, and the House of Morgan is nothing but code words for making me miserable. My father never even told me he was my father. I found out at a will reading that the banker who ran my trust fund was actually my dad. I had everything except the one thing I wanted most, a family. That's not how I want us to work and I want my son to know only love."

  "You deserve love Liz.”

  “But? Don’t hold back.”

  His cheeks were flushed. “The Morgans have always been the rich family in my life that was entitled to anything. Everything."

  The last thing she needed was Rafe telling her that she was in any way superior to him. He clearly had a family who loved him which was more than she’d ever had. She leaned against the door. "See you tomorrow."

  "Bye." He tipped his head to her, kissed Brandon’s head, and stared at her one more time. As he walked out, she took a quick glance at his rock hard backside in those fitted jeans, and remembered how hard his body truly was, everywhere. She sighed. She'd never feel that thrill again and she tore her gaze away from his sexy butt. Nothing but trouble.

  Brandon yawned. She took him to the bathroom to clean him and then put him into his crib for a nap. Her precious boy kept saying Da and reaching toward the door, like he wanted Rafe. She reminded him with tickles, "I'm Mom" but he just laughed at her with those loving brown eyes.

  Finally he nodded off. She checked the video mon
itor and ensured she could watch Brandon at all times. Then she left to clean up the patio and bring the food trays into the kitchen for her staff to wash later.

  Jazz still surrounded her as she walked outside. No breeze disturbed the patio, even the palm trees were still. Today Rafe and Brandon had bonded and Rafe had been more caring than she could have hoped for.

  His family’s line of work meant nothing to her, but he was such a stickler for class delineations. Somehow she’d have to figure out how to walk around that issue. With the last plate gathered in a pile, she picked up her phone, realizing that the earlier caller had left a message and hit play to the voice mail.

  “You may have your Brandon back for now, but I will take him away from you forever if you don't pay me ten million dollars.”

  Her heart raced as she glanced at Brandon's video feed. He was fast asleep. Every cell in her body wanted to run and hold him tight even though he was fine and in his crib. She cracked her knuckles like she was a boxer. No one could take her son away from her again.

  Chapter 7

  Rafe’s shoulders stiffened as he walked toward the mansion next door along the short-cut in back of the house. Star Island was small, and exclusive. Rafe knocked on Peter Morgan's door as his mind raced with “I'm sorry”. He had no other words to say to a man whose fiancée’s plane had crashed into the ocean and was now missing. If he lost anyone he loved, he'd never be the same. As the door opened, he widened his eyes in surprise. "Mom?"

  His mother smiled and twirled around in her soft gray and clearly designer uniform. "Peter Morgan is in his study."

  He pressed his lips together as he stepped into the foyer. "What are you doing here? You retired."

  "Caro started her new job with Victoria Morgan, and Peter needed a housekeeper. I refused to let him go without proper help."

  Yes, he remembered that his sister had quit her position as maid to work in fashion as a designer. She loved clothes,; it made sense. That didn't mean his mother should take over as the hired help, again. He stayed silent.

  His mother crossed her arms, ready for an argument. "Peter needed a new maid and honestly I missed working, mi’ja."

  A loud sigh escaped his lips. His mother obviously didn't see this as a bad thing. She never had. He glanced at her legs and shook his head. "You shouldn't be on your feet."

  She waved her hands in the air like he was wrong. "I'm perfectly healthy. Come, let's get you to Peter."

  "I don't want you toiling away, working so hard now. You're not young anymore."

  “He’s repositioned most of the staff and didn’t keep good housekeepers.” His mother shrugged her shoulders. "Peter has agreed that I will be managing his house staff, once again, and I'm to hire someone else to do all the physically demanding portions of the job. He wants someone in charge he can trust and I need to make sure he has the proper help."

  No one was more trustworthy than his mother. If she took her old job again, then he hoped she’d negotiated as she said. She had practically raised Peter, Victoria and John as their mother was thought dead and their father was always working. "Are you sure you want to be here every day, Mom?"

  "Si." She pushed his shoulders, hurrying him down the hall. "Now go help him find his missing bride. I have every faith that she'll be found alive and well."

  The police and the coast guard were not the same branches of government. He had little to do with any investigation from his position as detective with Miami PD, but he straightened his shirt, stalling. Then he knocked on the open door where he saw Peter sitting on the sofa. "Hello, sir."

  Peter Morgan stood and turned. "Peter, Rafe. You can call me by my name."

  Yes, they’d gone to high school together and his mother had him here often as a child, and he had played tag and other silly childish games with John and Peter. But he needed to keep his emotional distance. He was the son of the maid, not one of the golden heirs. He held his head higher. "Mr. Morgan."

  Peter slumped in his seat, again, and held his head. "Sounds like you're addressing my father and not me. Please sit down."

  Rafe tugged the seat closer to the coffee table and left his phone on the table between them. "I’m not here in official capacity. I just want to offer my assistance, or condolences, or whatever you might need."

  Peter dropped his hand from his forehead. "If you want to retire and be the head of Morgan security, I'll quadruple your salary."

  Then he'd work for the Morgans. Someone in his family had to walk a different path. "That's a lot of zeros, but let's not discuss it right now. I spoke to the coast guard..."

  Peter sat on the edge of his seat. "And?"

  "They located the wreckage." Rafe read hope in Peter’s eyes that Belle was alive. He hated this part of his job. "I advised Morgan security team that the coast guard might not have the man power to pull the wreckage from the ocean. I suggest having them on standby."

  Peter scooted away and back into his seat. "Thank you."

  Not easy news. "The second I hear anything, I'll call."

  "Excellent." Rafe’s phone rang. Peter gazed at the number and then his eyes widened. "It seems my sister is calling you."

  "Huh?" He had just left Elizabeth's. His car was still there, but he'd leave soon. He hoped he hadn't blocked her in, but then she had that huge driveway.

  Peter picked up the phone and handed it to him. "Your phone is ringing. Elizabeth is calling for you."

  His face felt hot. He hoped he hadn't blushed. Elizabeth had been right to tell him to keep it quiet. Peter might realize that he was in no way good enough for Liz. He pressed the phone to his ear and tried to keep his voice normal. "Hello?"

  Her voice trembled. "Rafe, come back."

  He remembered how broken she’d seemed the other night. He had wanted to hold her tight. He stood and walked to the other side of the room. He felt Peter stare at him, but he didn't offer an explanation. "Why? What happened?"

  Her voice cracked as she spoke. "The phone message. Someone wants money or the next time they will kill Brandon."

  His stomach twisted like he’d been stabbed. No one would touch any of them while his heart beat inside his chest. His legs widened in his stance as he lifted his chin. "I'll be right over."

  Then he turned around and noticed that Peter Morgan, her brother, stood with his arms crossed. "What's happening?"

  There was always a threat against this family. It must come with the billions of dollars. He took the same stance as Peter and decided he had to tell him. "Someone's threatened your sister. I'm heading over there now."

  Peter took a step to follow. "I'll come with you."

  “No.” Right now it was important that he speak to Elizabeth without anyone else influencing her. Witnesses were best if they spoke to cops first as they gave the most details then. At least that's what he told himself. This had nothing to do with holding Elizabeth, which he couldn’t do in front of Peter. "Let me investigate first? Can you give me half an hour to get all the facts?"

  Peter stopped and glanced around the house as if looking for Belle. "Okay. I'll get my mother and meet you over there."

  "Thanks." A half an hour wasn't a long time, but it gave him a few minutes alone with Elizabeth. He straightened his shoulders and walked out. Sienna wasn’t a threat. The original kidnappers were dead, but someone else was involved. He needed to find them, fast. No one would hurt his son.

  On the path to the house next door, his heart raced. She had sounded so scared and it took him longer to get to her than he hoped. Sweat broke out on his spine which never happened. Unlike everyone and every case that he worked before, this time was different.

  It felt like hours but it was probably less than minute later when he knocked on her door. She swung it open and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Rafe."

  He rocked her and smelled her vanilla skin. "What happened?"

  A sigh came out of her lips and then she pulled away, bringing him inside. "The voice mail someone left. Listen to it."

/>   He closed the door. Liz walked across the room and grabbed her phone. Her hands shook as she handed it to him. He placed his hand on her back as he listened to the message. Despite the cold wind that raced up him, he stood tall and sure. He turned it off and stared at her white face. "The voice is garbled. Can I take your phone for now?"

  She nodded her head as she took shallow breaths. "Sure. Keep it. I just need Brandon to be safe."

  "We'll make sure nothing happens to him." Their son was why he was here. It wasn't how her blue eyes haunted him, or the memory of how she bit her lip as he removed her bra washed over him. He blinked. "Where is he?"

  "He's napping..." She pointed toward the baby monitor. "See?"

  He wanted to wrap her in his arms again and promise to watch out for her. He held absolutely still as clearly his thoughts were so unlike him that he couldn't function right. "Liz, you have the best security here."

  She shook her head and grabbed his hand. "None of them helped me get Brandon back. I need you."

  "Stay calm, Liz." The truth was he needed to be calm. If he acted on his wants, then so many of his rules went out the window.

  She squeezed his hands tighter. "I need you. I went through hell; I can't do that again."

  The scent of vanilla washed over him as he reached around her and hugged her close. "This time you have me."

  Her hands burrowed around his waist. Her breath near his neck warmed his skin. "What does that mean?"

  Every cell in his body told him to kiss her, but he couldn't. He had to remember her last name was Morgan and that she was the last person to involve himself with. The softness of her skin rattled his brain like a memory. "It means I won't let anything happen to you or to our son."

  She licked her lips and his skin jolted like she might kiss him. "You'll protect us. I feel better when you say that."

  He couldn't hug her anymore without the ability to kiss her like he had in Vegas so he kept his distance. He took her hands and stared into her eyes. "With my life if I have to."