Secret Baby (The House of Morgan, #2)

by Victoria Pinder

  The words he typed glared at him on the screen. He had made a decision.

  He closed his computer and opened his bedroom door to see outside. The house seemed quiet, but goosebumps grew on his arms. The storm must have dissipated, as the walls rattled less. Everyone slept. He stood and stared toward the front door. It was better to see what happened in person. Then he sat, opened the laptop again, and quickly checked the radar.

  The weather service confirmed the worst was over. He stood and stretched. His orange trees needed him. He threw on a pair of old blue jeans and a black tee shirt and strolled out of his room. Near the door, he slipped on his boots and listened one more time to the wind, which sounded lighter. Then he unchained the door and stuck his head onto his porch. The screen was ripped apart, so he'd have to fix that later. He stepped past the mess, and the slight gust felt more like a normal day, though slightly colder. He'd have to ensure his oranges were warm.

  First he headed out to feed the animals, and soon, he'd check every tree. Out here in the farms, he'd be useful.

  The ghost of Vicki's presence came with her sweet smell of flowers, full, kissable lips, and pliant body. If he didn't get rid of his thoughts soon, he'd jump in and make a bigger mistake with his life. The hurricane was more manageable than his mind.

  He walked toward the stable, and the image of kissing her pink lips again never left his thoughts.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  "Vicki." Clara's small, happy voice echoed as she pattered on the marble floor toward her. Vicki's heart lifted and the sound made everything worthwhile. "You're still here."

  The girl ran into a hug and Vicki squeezed her. "Of course I am, but we don't have any power, sweetheart."

  "I'll go get Daddy. He can fix anything." Clara tore off in the direction of Colt's bedroom.

  "Wait."

  Clara ran toward the door anyhow. Colt hadn't come out since he'd handed Vicki the flashlight in the middle of the night. Her entire body froze as Clara swung open his door. With his fever, he needed the sleep, and she didn't want to wake him. Her face heated. To avoid Colt for a moment, she stared at her empty cereal bowl, but for a second she couldn't bring herself to get up and place it in the sink. She had to tell Colt what had happened last night.

  Then as she inhaled, she stood and cleaned and placed the bowl in the sink. Clara deserved a good breakfast. Clara bounded out of his room.

  "Vicki, Daddy isn't home. He must be outside." Clara barreled toward her and waved with her arms that she wanted the cereal in Vicki's hand. "I'm hungry."

  Vicki walked toward the kitchen. Colt should be taking it easy today. She held that thought. "Okay. Sit down and I'll get it for you."

  "Thank you." Clara tugged at her nightgown like it was a ball gown, and then descended into her seat like a princess.

  A year alone had taught Vicki to take care of herself. She opened the fridge, found the second box, and showed the two cereal choices. Her daughter nodded to one box, and Vicki fixed her a bowl. As she added the milk, Vicki stared at her baby. Her fingers ached to wrap themselves tight around her shoulders, and never let go of her little angel. No one would steal her baby from her again. Vicki repacked the fridge a minute later, and then took a seat next to Clara. Clara waited for her and picked up her spoon when Vicki settled in her seat. Clara smiled. Vicki scratched her head. "Who taught you manners?"

  "Grandma. She says Collins are strong, but good people who always remember their manners. And I want to be like Dad when I grow up."

  "You want to join the military?" Vicki asked.

  A giggle escaped Clara's throat, and to Vicki, her daughter had the voice of a choir of angels. "No, I want to help horses and grow oranges."

  A laugh escaped Vicki's lips. Vicki smiled, leaned closer, and whispered, "I should take you to my store. Making dresses and helping women be happy is fun."

  "My daughter is amazing the way she is, and she's amazing with horses." The front door swung open and the birds chirped in the air. The storm was definitely over now, and the cool wind was a welcome relief. Vicki swallowed, as the shadow of a man outlined the wall, taking his boots off, though he left the door open. Seconds later, footsteps that came closer made her skin tingle with awareness as the air filled with oak and oranges.

  "Morning," Vicki called out, and refused to stare at him as he hung his hat on a rack. "Clara is still young, and dresses are pretty."

  "Dresses are pretty," Clara repeated. "Belle hates dressing up."

  "No, she doesn't. Give her a chance, Clara." Colt crossed his arms and walked closer. "Belle loves being the center of attention."

  Vicki froze. That wasn't a compliment in Colt's worldview. Vicki peeked over her shoulder, and she watched his facial expression. He loved Clara; that was clear. Vicki inhaled. "Your daughter adores you. She thinks you can turn the lights on."

  Colt stared at her, and her face grew warmer. "I had to ensure our fruit and workers were here for the aftermath. We lost about fifteen percent of the crops, the greenhouse was damaged, and trees uprooted. At least most of the storm didn't hit us directly. I'll get the generator from the shed. When the lights go on, can you make coffee?"

  "I can do that." She nodded and stood. "I'm sorry for your losses."

  "We can rebuild." He didn't move. "I have camping gear to make fresh coffee without energy out there too. I'll bring it in so we're set in case the power doesn't come on anytime soon."

  "Okay." She nodded and smiled like she'd won the lottery. Of course he had the machine. Fresh coffee was restored and her body would enjoy it. She brushed the skirt she had worn last night to get off any speck of dirt. "I'll stay here with Clara. We'll figure out what we have to grill today to not let it spoil."

  "You can stay?" His eyes widened. "I suspected you'd have some Miami event with your family name as the sponsor to attend."

  "I'm the nanny, remember?" Colt and Clara were more important than the House of Morgan. She placed her hand on her hip. "I asked my employee to open my shop today, and everyone at my boutique will take care of the brides until I get back. I am happy to stay with Clara. I took this job, Colt, and I intend to stay."

  "Thanks." He nodded, and took his hat off the rack to head back out. She sucked in her breath, and hoped she'd made her message clear: that her family name was less important than Clara. If he hadn't come for breakfast, why had he walked in the room? As he slipped on his boots near the front door, he called over his shoulder, "After the power is on, I have to go check for more damage in my trees and the animals. I'll be a while."

  "Take care of yourself. I'll have coffee near the door for you to grab." She rubbed her forehead. Today she would be useful. Then she turned to Clara and figured her daughter could help her today. "So go. We'll be fine."

  He let out a sigh, nodded, and shoved himself out the door. The cool breeze from the door was all they had until they raised the shutters. She swallowed, and her cheeks felt heat as she wondered what he'd come inside for as he left without food. Vicki's head swiveled and she smiled at Clara. Clara didn't look up as she ate her cereal. Vicki mussed her baby's fine hair as she retook her seat.

  "Dad has nightmares sometimes. He says it's about war. I don't ever want nightmares like he has." Clara took a bite of her cereal like she hadn't said something huge. "Horses don't make me cry."

  "War?" Vicki stilled, but then decided to loosen up. "Have you seen the bases your dad was on?"

  "Italy. Dad used to take me for ice cream." Clara pushed her bowl away. "I'm done. Can we go outside? It's hot in here."

  "Okay. Get some toys. We'll sit on the porch or near the house while we drink water, but first your dad wants me to make him coffee, and I hoped you'd help." Vicki stood up to open the door so the breeze could cool her. Then she picked up the bowl and put it in the sink, as the lights flickered on. The air conditioning didn't kick on, so the generator must be at work. "That will make it easier to find what you want from your room."

  Clara ran toward her room and Vicki sta
rted the coffee machine. Her skin tingled again, as her body grew hyperaware of Colt's warm, inviting breath on her neck. She licked her lips and turned to face him as the door swung behind him.

  The moment their gazes met, Colt stepped away. His hands fell to his sides. "The phone line is down, though the internet is working. My cell is charging now. We'll have to keep my electronics plugged in to regenerate to full. Can I see what kind of phone you have?"

  "Sure." She walked over to her counter where she'd left her pocketbook, and reached in for her cell. As she handed it over, she saw the battery was red, so she was under twenty percent.

  He nodded. "Okay, once mine is charged, we'll switch out to yours, unless you need to make any emergency calls."

  "I'm fine." She left her phone on the counter.

  He didn't move. "I came in to email my family fast to check on Alice, John, and my parents again. When I'm done, if you need to do the same, please feel free. I hope Peter is fine, but I need to ask you a favor."

  Her brother would be some place five-star, probably in a hotel with Jennifer. Her shoulders twitched as she took in Colt's words. A favor? She swallowed. "What do you need?"

  His cheeks reddened, and he ran his hand through his hair. "It be nice if you stick around to help with Clara through the cleanup process. Otherwise, I'll have to take her through the entire grove. It's going to be more than a day."

  Colt and Clara mattered far more than anything else in her life. He trusted her with their daughter. "Are you asking me to move in for a few days?"

  His voice softened. "Yes. If you can get away. My mother usually helps, but my dad has been ill. Clara thinks you're her nanny now, and you would be a great help."

  "Okay." She smiled and took his hands in hers. He held her palms in his, but then dropped his hands to the side. The part of her skin that touched his heated. She lowered her gaze. "I'm happy to have the time to get to know her. I'd like to stay and get to know her without being a stranger. But I do have to go to the store in a few days to arrange the schedule for next week. I can take Clara with me for a few hours, and then we'll head right back home."

  "Sounds fine. We'll work out the details, but thank you." He turned his face into a shadow as he glanced at the door. "Now is a good time, before my wedding in October."

  Vicki's shoulders caved. Her lips ached for his kiss, but she'd never be a home wrecker. She firmly believed that whatever she put into the universe came back in a circle. If she tried to steal Colt, something worse would happen to her. She sighed. No. She'd lost too much already.

  Colt ran his hand through his hair, and she picked up his habit as she closed her eyes. "That's so close. Where is your fiancée?"

  He seemed to count the marble tiles on the floor as his face stayed red. "Washington, D.C. She took a job for the military as a lobbyist."

  "She sounds strong and independent, which was always the type of girl you wanted. I'm happy for you."

  His eyes widened as he glanced at her again. Without a word, she picked up the bowl in the sink and ran it under the water to wash. Colt rubbed her shoulders and then he took off for the door. "Thanks again for staying."

  "No, Colt," she called out, and gazed at him over her shoulder. He stared at her from the door. She dropped her hands to her sides. "Staying here is one major step to letting me in to know my daughter. I am looking forward to telling her who I am before your wedding."

  At the door he threw his cowboy hat on and nodded at her. Her heart beat a little faster. If he wasn't engaged, she'd be flirting. Perhaps it was better this way.

  Colt Collins would never be hers.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Vicki found the steaks in the freezer had thawed enough and needed to be cooked soon. Dusk settled in the sky, and she added charcoal to the grill in the backyard. At least she had remembered how to set something from camp. Her years on her own, without her last name or family money, taught her how to survive in cities with jobs, not camping.

  Vicki turned to watch her daughter one more time. Clara had her radio, and she played in the shade on the patio. Today was perfect. Vicki turned around and lit a match, but nothing flamed. She bit her lip, added more charcoal, and lit more matches, but nothing flamed. She crossed her arms. What was she doing wrong?

  She picked up a piece of charcoal and held the match to it. The black charcoal never took the flames.

  Clearly she'd missed a step. She dropped the charcoal into the pit and wiped the sweat off her brow. She studied the grill like there was a huge secret. How did her brother, Peter, the born-to-be CEO who was trained from birth to run their family and the many business holding, make grilling food look easy? Her brother wasn't motivated to do anything family related, ever, and even he managed to do stuff like this.

  "Step back. I'll get the grill ready." Colt's voice crackled from behind, which sent a thrill down her spine.

  "Steak night." She didn't dare turn to look at him. Her body ached for him. A few seconds later, she turned and walked toward the patio as Clara and Colt grew closer to her and the grill. She stiffened her spine and refused to react to the smell of oak trees and oranges. "I'll get the food for when you're ready and bring it to you."

  "And the beer," Colt called out as he went toward the barbecue.

  She heard the spark of the fire catch in the grill and turned. With her jaw clenched, she asked, "How did you do that?"

  With a wink, he smiled, and her heart melted. He had looked at her that way years ago, and she used to melt then. She sighed, and he answered, "I have my ways."

  She placed her hand on her hip. "And I have mine, country boy. I'll get Clara to turn up her radio, and you'll dance with me before the night ends."

  "Lighter fluid." He dropped his gaze as his cheeks grew red. "You had everything but lighter fluid."

  Her skin ignited, and she stared at his hard body. She turned her gaze to the ground, and she cooled her jets, though her lips tingled from a memory. "Ohh."

  "I'll grill." He nodded.

  After the hurricane, the weather was unusually colder than the usual sauna of Miami summers. She was born and raised in the roasting humidity, but the fire now came from inside her. Colt was too dangerous for her well-being. Today was different. She let out a loud sigh, and rolled her shoulders to let the tension that crept up her spine dissipate.

  On the porch, she stomped up the stairs and slammed the door behind her. Colt whistled outside, and she heard the noisy sighs she made.

  At least the house wasn't stuffy anymore. Colt had taken down the shutters to let the air back in. One step ahead of her today, but then again, he was a perfect gentleman. She shook her head like that would clear it. She had to lose her attraction to Colt fast. The man was engaged to be married, and Victoria Morgan was here for Clara.

  As she took out the plate of steaks, the fresh corn on the cob, and the vegetable kebabs she made, Vicki's fingers twitched. Her body was too tight and achy to be near him.

  Denial was hard.

  She picked out the condiments off the metallic door of the refrigerator. She clicked her tongue in her mouth, pasted a smile back on her face, and went back outside.

  With her hip, she pushed open the door, and she saw how handsome Colt had become. The man she stared at across the lawn who chased after Clara was rugged, protective, and the best father she ever could imagine. Their daughter squealed in delight. Vicki licked her lips. His hard muscles and strong shoulders only added fuel to her raging desires.

  A genuine smile formed on her face, but as she went toward them, acid grew in her throat. Her father had never loved her, not like Colt with Clara.

  Her stomach knotted, and she lowered her gaze. Perhaps the thought related to how she hadn't told Colt this morning about that kiss. She swallowed, and the tension she suddenly had dissipated. They had to find a way to share, and Vicki swore to herself she'd ensure Clara believed that she was worth more than living her life as a man's pretty accessory.

  As she joined them and slippe
d the plate onto the table, Colt's hand squeezed her hip. She stayed speechless, and he reached over her shoulder to take the plate. Heat coursed through her.

  He winked. "Go play with the rug rat while I get this started."

  "Daddy, I'm not a rug rat," Clara yelled out. "I want to play tag."

  With a fast grin, Vicki took her hand from Colt and then raced to her daughter. "Yeah, Dad. She's not a rug rat, but a princess."

  "No. A princess. Apparently now I have two princesses in my life." His grin gave his excitement away. "Everywhere I go, girl rug rats turn into princesses."

  Clara giggled like he'd said the funniest thing ever. Then she went to sit with her toys. Vicki didn't argue, and followed her until it was clear Clara wanted to play alone.

  She pointed to Clara as she met Colt's gaze. Then she nodded and told him, "I'll go and get the beer."

  Colt shook his head and his eyes sparkled. "So you failed at being a proper woman. Not getting me my beer on the first trip."

  Colt Collins had turned into a comedian. She twirled with her hand in the air to scold him, but his smile was contagious. His appreciative head dip caught her attention, and she didn't rise to the bait. "Country boy like you never had any manners, Colt. We'll work on that when you dance with me."

  Without another word spoken, she disappeared into the house.

  A cold beer whetted her appetite too. A minute later, she popped the caps off two Coronas, added lime, and headed back out.

  His succulent brown eyes stayed on her as she sashayed back with the beer. She handed one to him, and he quirked his eyebrow after he tasted it. "What happened to 'I only drink wine'?"

  "I definitely prefer wine, but I'll drink this for now." She shrugged. "Cheers."

  They tapped their bottles, and then he elbowed her side. "John taught you about the lime. I'm impressed."

  A giggle escaped her lips. "John or Peter will never drink this in public, but you snuck one or two over a few summers and always added the splash of lime. Years later, when I lived in Texas for a minute, I decided to try."