Forty and Free: A Sweet Romance Series Bundle - Books 5 - 8

by Blake, Lillianna

  He tossed the menu aside and dialed another number on his phone.

  “Shawn, I know we’re not scheduled for tonight, but how much trouble would it be to fly out?”

  “Anything you need, Mr. Morgan. We can leave in a few hours.”

  “Great. Let’s do that, then. And do me a favor, keep this between us, okay?”

  “You don’t want me to confirm your travel with James?”

  “Not this time.”

  “Okay. I’ll text you when the plane is ready.”

  “Great. Thank you.”

  He hung up the phone and began to gather his things. He never traveled with much. He’d learned to take a few suits, some exercise clothes, and an extra pair of sneakers. Other than that, he could buy whatever he needed. The last thing he put into his suitcase was a small framed photograph of a little girl with white-blonde hair and an enormous smile.

  His heart swelled at the thought of surprising Emma with a visit.

  How long would that beautiful smile last? When would she shift from being the little girl who loved every minute he spent with her to a little girl who was angry for all the minutes that he spent away from her?

  Chapter 9

  Cassie sat in the middle of Emma’s bed and stared at the wide empty wall. Normally, she would be flooded with ideas as to what to paint, but something about the pristine surroundings made her hesitant. It was easy to feel out of place as she sat on the expensive bedding.

  She stood up and walked over to the wall. That was the problem. She looked at the wall through her eyes, instead of through the eyes of the little girl that it belonged to. This wall wasn’t about her. It was about a child surrounded by riches and a lot of love—well she assumed so, anyway. What would a little girl like that want to see every day?

  It was difficult for her to even conceive of that kind of life. Her parents had died when she was young and, though she was raised by an aunt who did her best, she never really experienced a sense of being cared for. To her aunt, Cassie had been more of an obligation, and she’d passed away when Cassie was in her late teens. Since then, Cassie had been alone in the world.

  She never really seemed to experience being lonely, though. Nature had always made her feel as if she belonged. A good walk through a park, a swim in a lake, or even just spotting a blade of grass that peeked through concrete slabs was enough to make her feel connected to something much larger than herself.

  Maybe that was something that Emma would like. While she had everything she could possibly want or need, she was still in a sense imprisoned by that luxury. There was a keypad outside her door, for goodness’ sakes. Cassie had the impression that the child likely didn’t get to wander around in nature very much.

  A dreamy smile curved her lips as she began to slide the paintbrush along the wall. Though she was happy with her decision to be child-free, there were moments when she longed for a little girl to share the world with. If she had a daughter, she would show her the sky, the ocean, and the trees.

  With that in mind, she began to paint the things that she would want to share with her own child. Though that wasn’t likely to happen, it was still a nice thing to think about. The more engaged she became with the painting, the more room she needed.

  It wasn’t until she hit a corner that she realized she’d created a mural that needed more than just one wall. Although James had instructed her to only do one, she couldn’t stop. The images that were born in her mind needed to find their place on the wall. It wasn’t something that she could resist.

  She didn’t stop until halfway through the second wall. With her arms aching from painting above her head, she decided to take a little break. She grabbed her laptop and logged into the Forty and Free site to see if she had any responses regarding dates while she was there.

  Before she could look over the responses, her attention was drawn to a web page that she’d opened earlier—the one that told her a bit about the man whom she was now employed by. If Mr. Morgan really wanted her to come up with her own idea for the mural in the foyer, then she would need to know at least something about the man.

  Just about every link took her down a troublesome path. There were pictures of him with just about every beautiful socialite in Beverly Hills. There were also scathing articles about his reputation for loving and leaving women behind. She was surprised to find not one mention of Emma, or of Emma’s mother.

  As her curiosity about him grew, she sought more personal information. She discovered that he too had very little family. His mother had died when he was just a toddler and his father, who’d been much older, had passed away not long after Lucas had graduated from college. He truly had built his empire on his own, though with the support of the wealth he’d inherited from his father.

  Despite the fact that every other article she read spoke of his playboy ways, she suspected there was much more to him than that. Would a man who was all about a fast and reckless lifestyle really care that much what his foyer looked like?

  She came across a list of all the charities that he supported, many of which he was responsible for playing a part in starting. With each new one she found, she grew more impressed. He did well for himself, and he spared no expense in his lifestyle, but he also donated just about as much as he spent. That was not something he had to do.

  By the time she concluded her research she was left with two very different ideas of who Lucas Morgan was—a womanizer with an insatiable appetite for the finer things in life and a philanthropist with no end to his generosity. She suspected that the truth was somewhere in the middle.

  Cassie tried to never judge a person by what others said or wrote about them. Until she met him for herself, he would remain a mystery. And the opportunity to meet the infamous man face-to-face left her intrigued and filled her with anticipation.

  She turned her music up and returned her attention to the mural.

  As the beauty that filled her mind spilled over onto the wall, she sang under her breath along with the music. Her body swayed with the rhythm and the motion of the paintbrush. As she painted waves of blue and pale green across the wall, she could feel the cool of the water against her skin and sense the sand beneath her bare feet. Her painting clothes drifted along her skin, loose and well-worn, stained with the paint of many murals.

  In that moment, it didn’t matter to her if she was painting the wall of a little girl’s room, or the ceiling of a castle. All that mattered was the experience of expressing the beauty that played through her mind.

  Chapter 10

  Lucas stepped out of the car and looked toward the mansion in front of him. It was home, but it didn’t quite feel like home. He let himself in the front door as quietly as he could. Normally, a few members of his staff, including James, would greet him when he arrived. Since he hadn’t let anyone know he was coming home, the foyer was dark. He could tell that the walls hadn’t been painted yet.

  He started up the stairs toward his bedroom when he heard the muffled sound of music. He followed it to his daughter’s room. For the first time it struck him that he’d allowed a stranger into a room that he’d never allowed a stranger into before.

  From the day Emma was born, he’d only allowed his most trusted friends and staff anywhere near her. As a result her picture had never been published and her life hadn’t been threatened. Yet without much hesitation, he’d sent a woman he’d never met into his daughter’s room. Was it a mistake? What if she’d already leaked pictures of his daughter’s room to the press?

  With the distraction of the merger, he’d made a hasty decision.

  He paused outside the door and listened to the melody that drifted out. He set his bag down in the hall and pressed the pass code into the pad. When he placed his hand on the doorknob his heart quickened. Maybe it would be a better choice just to leave her to her work. He certainly didn’t like to be interrupted when he was working.

  But his curiosity was too strong to resist.

  With one swift push the d
oor glided open quietly. The scent of paint filled his nostrils as he stepped inside. Drop cloths covered the carpet and furniture. As he stood there taking it all in, he realized that she’d extended the mural well beyond the single wall that she’d been asked to paint. Instantly, he was enchanted by the sights of the natural world that stretched into every available corner of the vast room. It was everything he’d wanted for his daughter.

  His gaze wandered back to her, so easy to overlook at first as she nearly blended in with the mural. Her t-shirt hung from her shoulders like a rag speckled in paint. Her loose, once-white pants drifted at her shins, accentuating her bare paint-splashed feet. Though her hair was as dark as his, it was lightened by the flecks of pale blue, green, and white that had gathered along the crown of her head. Her entire body flowed with the music, every muscle working together to create the image on the wall.

  The soft sound of her singing along to the tune summoned a smile to his lips. James was right about one thing—she was quite beautiful. He didn’t have to see her face to know that.

  He started to turn away to leave her to her work, but his foot bumped into a paint can. The sound made her jump.

  She turned so fast that a spritz of paint was flung from the end of the brush she held in one hand. It splattered across his face and the neckline of his suit. He took a slight step back and laughed as her eyes widened. The pictures he’d seen didn’t do her eyes justice. They were huge, hazel, and quite possibly the brightest eyes he’d ever seen.

  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were there. You startled me.” She stumbled over her words as she stared at him.

  “It’s quite alright. I shouldn’t have startled you. I just didn’t want to interrupt.” He reached up to touch the paint on his cheek.

  “Here, let me get that for you.” She grabbed a rag from her box of supplies and turned back to face him.

  He couldn’t stop looking at her. Every aspect of her was interesting, from the high rise of her cheekbones to the paint-smudged curve of her chin. Her hair was so speckled in paint that it could have been a work of art itself.

  When she reached toward him with the rag, his body tensed a little in anticipation of her touch. The closer she came, the less sense his thoughts made. The rough cloth slid across the paint on his cheek, but he could still feel the warmth of her fingertips through it.

  “It’s fine, really.” He reached up to catch her wrist as a quiet gasp escaped her lips.

  “I think I’ve made it worse.” She cringed. “It’s on your suit jacket too. Here, take that off.” She started to tug at the collar of his jacket. It slid off his shoulders easily. “You can take that out of my pay, of course. I mean, if you like the mural, that is.” She began to swipe at his cheek again.

  This time his hand closed around the thin slope of her wrist.

  “That won’t be necessary.” He held her gaze. The intimacy of how close she was standing and how it seemed to be making him feel made him pause. He’d certainly known his share of instant attractions that had led to spontaneous passionate encounters. Why should this be any different? “I love the mural.”

  “You do?” She looked back into his eyes as a wide smile spread across her lips. The way her smile transformed her face, giving it light in places that he didn’t expect, fascinated him.

  Without thought, he released her wrist and traced his fingertip along the curve of her cheek. The faintest shiver carried through him the moment his skin caressed hers. His fingertips followed a curious path of their own, drawn to the warmth and silk of her bottom lip.

  She remained still before him, as if uncertain what to do, but the fact that she didn’t pull away emboldened him.

  His own lips twitched with anticipation. Just as he was about to follow his instincts and kiss her, he noticed the streak of blue that he’d left on her face from her cheek to her lips.

  “I think we’re even now.” He laughed and stuck out his hand. “I’m Lucas, by the way. And it’s very nice to finally meet you, Ms. Reed.”

  Chapter 11

  Not a single photograph that Cassie had looked at had prepared her for just how handsome the man standing before her was.

  In the span of a few seconds, her emotions had gone from terror at the thought of a stranger being in the room with her to horror at the recognition that she’d just covered Lucas Morgan in paint, to absolute lust when he’d then proceeded to touch her so gently. Her entire body buzzed as she caught sight of his subtle tilt toward her. It wasn’t a question whether she should she kiss him, but a question whether she could do anything to stop it. Her body certainly didn’t want to cooperate with any thoughts that involved moving away from where he stood in front of her.

  When he spoke, his words broke the spell she’d been swept into.

  She finally drew back a step to create some distance and matched his laughter with her own as she sensed the paint on her face.

  “I guess we’re even then. Sure. If you say so.” She smiled and then held in her breath as he reached out toward her again, rubbing the pad of his thumb along her cheek and then pulling it away with just a bit of the paint that had already started to dry on her face. This wasn’t what she expected from the man that many of the magazines portrayed as cold and cruel. This wasn’t what she’d expected at all.

  His smile lingered as she watched him take in the walls again. “I have to say, Ms. Reed, I’m impressed with what you’ve done here. I know I didn’t offer much direction, but what you’ve created—well, it’s as if you knew exactly what I’d hoped for.”

  She grinned. “Please, call me Cassie. I’m so glad that you like it.” A sense of relief flooded her. She began to relax as he walked along the mural and studied what details were complete. “I know it’s much larger than you originally requested, Mr. Morgan but—”

  “—It’s perfect. It’s as if she will never have walls around her.” He clasped his hands behind his back.

  She noticed the way the paint swirled across his skin, as if in some way he was her creation too. After overhearing the frustration in his voice on the phone earlier and reading accounts of his sometimes explosive temper, the mild man that perused her mural now was a bit of a surprise.

  When he turned back to face her again, she could see the strain in his expression.

  “Did you just get in?”

  “Yes. It was a late flight.”

  “You must be exhausted.”

  “Actually, I’m more hungry than anything.” He chuckled. “I guess I’ll wake Neil and get him to whip something up. Would you like to join me?”

  “I have a better idea. Why don’t I fix us both something?”

  “There’s no need to go to the trouble.”

  “It won’t be any trouble. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone to cook for. I mean, if you don’t mind the company. I promise not to get any more paint on you.”

  “Oh?” He quirked an eyebrow. “I’ll try not to be too disappointed. I’d enjoy the chance to speak to you about the mural in the foyer.”

  “Yes, I haven’t started on it.” She started putting away her brushes as she spoke. “I just needed a feel for you before I started. To be honest, you seem to be a difficult man to get to know.”

  “Am I?”

  She glanced over her shoulder to find him just behind her.

  “All of the articles I’ve read…” She cleared her throat. “They give only one image of you.”

  He smiled and looked into her eyes. “Do you think so many people could be wrong? Maybe there’s nothing more to know.”

  Her heart skipped a beat as she gazed back at him. His presence was intimidating, but his tone was playful. It was hard to pinpoint whether her mention of the articles had offended him.

  “I think perhaps there are very few people who ever get to know who you really are, Mr. Morgan.”

  He reached out and took a paintbrush from her hand, then dropped it into the bucket beside her. His hand returned to hers and clasped it with a w
armth that surprised her.

  “Please, Cassie, call me Lucas.” His smile faded but didn’t disappear.

  “Lucas.” She slipped her hand free of his and turned away again. “I can’t promise gourmet, but I’m happy to provide you with something hot and satisfying.” The moment the words left her mouth her entire body tensed. Had she really just said that? “I mean—like macaroni and cheese.”

  “Macaroni and cheese?” He laughed. “That’s not what I thought you meant.”

  “Well, it’s what I mean.” She finished gathering her tools then turned back to face him, hoping her face wasn’t a bright shade of red.

  “Sounds delicious. Lead the way.” He gestured for her to walk past him.

  As Cassie headed to the small kitchen in her wing, she sensed him just behind her the entire time. It seemed odd to her to invite him to a space in his own home, but the moment they arrived there, she began to relax.

  “I haven’t been in here for some time.” He walked toward the large window that overlooked the expansive grounds. “I always thought this was a beautiful view.”

  “It is. I’m very grateful for the nice accommodations.”

  “Have you explored outside yet?” He turned back toward her as she gathered the ingredients she needed.

  “Not yet. I wasn’t sure what the rules were.”

  “Rules?” He sat down at the kitchen table.

  “I mean, security seems very important to you. I didn’t want to wander too much.”

  “The only rule is that while you’re here, my home is your home.” He sat back a little in his chair. “I want you to be comfortable.”

  “I appreciate that.” She leaned against the counter and smiled at him. “You’ve been so generous to me.”

  “So generous that you’re wondering why?” He raised an eyebrow.