Around the World in 80 Men Series Boxed Set 1-10

by Brandi Ratliff

  Claire? Who the fuck is Claire? Morgan drew her knees in even closer and buried her head between her legs. She fought the burning in her eyes, but lost the battle and a single tear broke through. She rubbed her cheek against her knee, ridding her face of the evidence. How could I have been so stupid! To think that I liked him? God! Her thoughts turned from embarrassment, to sadness, then finally, to anger.

  She lifted her head, trying to hear Finlay's voice again. Nothing. She put her hands on the cold ground and pushed herself back to a standing position. At that moment, Morgan was thankful for her bare feet, as she tiptoed silently back to the heavy wooden door, then toward the top of the stairs.

  How could he do this to me? To me. The words hit her hard. This isn't about me, why am I so mad? He's a free man, he can have as many hookers as he wants. She thought he could have at least had the decency to plan it a little better and tell his regular that he had other plans that day. Morgan wondered if she was better...better in bed? Bigger tits? More professional?

  “...I've been looking everywhere for you, Mr. Campbell. I went to your office, then your house, so I figured this was the last spot to look,” Morgan heard Claire's voice rise and fall. Ha, yeah, she's professional. Chasing her client all over God's creation. She couldn't have been one of Julianne's girls. Morgan wondered how many he had, just two? Seven? Fourty-six? She had no idea. And it hurt her worse to know that he had probably been in that very bedchamber with Claire. Just her name sent a chill through Morgan's body. The woman's voice faded at the bottom of the stairs, and she still couldn't hear Finlay.

  The barefoot girl took a few steps down and peered over the side of the makeshift staircase, she couldn't see anything. A few more steps, and they came into sight.

  The woman, known as Claire, wasn't entirely what Morgan had expected. She wasn't gorgeous, but by no means was she ugly. Her mousy brown hair was pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and her tight business suit formed around her large breasts and plump ass. Her face was nothing out of ordinary. She had full lips, stained in bright red, beady brown eyes and far too much bronzer across her high cheekbones. She couldn't hear what they were saying, all Morgan wanted to do was slap the stupid grin off her competition's face.

  Morgan actually wanted to laugh. Finlay and her? Her? The girl with a stupid business suit and stupid bun and stupid sensible shoes. Maybe she was his girlfriend? And maybe she didn't know about his other girlfriends? I guess it could be. She's a little plain, but perhaps she's nice. How else would she know he'd be here? Morgan sat down on the step. What was she thinking? His girlfriend? Finlay didn't want a girlfriend.

  Voices caught her attention again and she directed her eyes back to the great hall. They were right next to the stairs.

  “Yes, I told them repeatedly you had taken the time off, but they insisted that it needed to be signed today,” Claire spoke to Finlay, as her hand made its way to his arm.

  Get your hands off of him! Morgan let out a low growl and quickly covered her mouth in surprise. She looked down again, and was relieved they were still talking and hadn't heard her bout of jealousy.

  “Get what signed?” Morgan whispered into her hand that was still loosely clasped over her mouth. She remembered Julianne saying something about the men signing a contract of sorts. That they would get checked regularly for abnormalities and they weren't to leave the destination country with the girl without Julianne knowing and how often they had to 'check in' with her. It was all to keep a smooth operation running, but they were able to opt out at any time. Morgan wondered if they paper the woman held was his 'contract'.

  “Morgan! Come down here, love!” Finlay's bellow nearly gave the young girl a heart attack. She drew both hands to her chest and pushed lightly, trying to subdue its pounding.

  Me? Morgan waited a few seconds to respond. She didn't want the couple downstairs to know she had been lurking on the steps the whole time. After a safe time had passed, that would have been her walking from the bedchamber to the middle of the staircase, Morgan slowly stood, “Finlay?”

  “Aye, lass, come down here will ye?” Finlay turned toward her and smiled.

  Morgan went down the final stairs and found her place by Finlay's side. Well, this is awkward.

  “Morgan, I'd like you tae meet my secretary, a wonderful assistant mind you, Claire Robertson. Claire, this is my friend, Morgan Holland,” Finlay introduced the two.

  Claire's smile was genuine as she looked at Morgan and outstretched her hand toward her. Morgan was tired of meeting people and wanted nothing more than to leave the woman awkwardly standing there with her arm dangling in mid-air, but she took the woman's hand in hers and gave her a firm handshake anyway.

  “Secretary,” Morgan whispered.

  “What was that?” Finlay responded to Morgan's inaudible whisper. She simply faked a smile and told him 'nothing'.

  “I'll get ye back to our tour in a minute. I just have to take care of some wee business matters. It appears as if this paper,” Finlay snatched the paper from Claire's hand, “was a matter of life and death.” A hearty laughed followed.

  “Yes, Mr. Campbell, I'm sorry again to bother you. You know how they get. If is wasn't signed today, then you wouldn't be seeing that bank tower anywhere in your future,” Claire smiled, taking the paper back from Finlay.

  “Aye, and we wouldn't want that. I've had my eye on that one for quite some time, ye ken?” Finlay continued the conversation. He was always ready to take on another property, much like the very castle they were standing in. Morgan didn't know, and Finlay neglected to tell her, but the castle and surrounding property was his. He planned to restore it for personal use, or maybe for tourists, that part wasn't decided as of yet.

  Turns out, Claire was very nice, and also very professional. She had a husband, three children and drove a minivan. Not the kind of girl to drive an hour our of her way for an afternoon delight with a Mr. Campbell. She was only there to have Finlay sign a piece of paper for work.

  The young girl chastised herself for being so naive. And what was worse? That was the second time in two days she had jumped to conclusions, and Morgan's conclusions were never good.

  Morgan listened to the two for the next half an hour discuss finances, audits, loans, signatures and all kinds of things that the young girl was incapable of keeping up with. She had perched herself on the bottom step and tried to make sense of anything they were talking about. Once they began a conversation on stocks, it hit Morgan like a brick wall.

  She remembered sitting at her kitchen table, not even a week prior, looking over that newspaper. The secretary position...Morgan had felt as if that had been beneath her. In that moment, the young girl realized she wouldn't have been capable of doing Claire's job. She also realized Finlay was more out of her league than she had initially suspected.

  Chapter Eight

  Claire tucked the last of the papers back inside the leather bound folder, and bid Morgan a pleasant farewell. Finlay walked his employee to the top of the first hill, then watched as she safely made her way back to her vehicle.

  When he finally returned, Morgan had already made up her mind about several things pertaining to Mr. Perfect. First, he was far beyond her reach, and she wouldn't even attempt to question that realization. Second, Morgan's confidence took a nose dive, and her lack of education, mixed with lack of world experience, made her feel like a small school girl that had been standing outside the fence watching the big kids play. Then the third and final piece of her reality, she had been a complete fool for being jealous, wondering if he cared for her, and thinking that she would be anything more than his whore for a week.

  At that moment, when her eyes reached his face upon his return, she knew what she had to do. She had to be good at what she did, being a call girl, because there wasn't much in the world that she felt she would ever be good at. Morgan also knew that her attachment to Finlay was nothing more than a child-like fantasy, one that was severed
right then and there.

  I'm a fool. A stupid, immature, fool. You wanted a woman to spend some time with, and now you have her. Nothing more. As she talked herself through her new plan, she managed another scolding of herself for not taking Julianne’s advice to just do the job and be the best she can be. Make him want me.

  “Well, where were we?” Finlay's smile spread wide across his handsome face, and Morgan fought the attraction that soared through her body. No more. I'm just here for your entertainment.

  She stood when he stopped in front of her, and a smile that didn't even come close to reaching her eyes, was returned. “We're anywhere you want us to be.” Her voice had no humor, passion, or anything that he was used to hearing from her.

  Finlay didn't try to over think her reaction. He wrapped his arms around her, and picked her straight up to bring her lips to his. His excitement was returning quickly, and he thought of how nice it would be to make love to Morgan there, in the place that he had never taken another woman.

  Instead of hearing her giggle, she reached down between them and ran her hand along his once swollen area.

  As a lifeless robot would do, she moved her hand up and down on him as she said, “where do you want to finish? Here?” She nodded toward the floor, her lifeless eyes void of desire, or anything else for that matter.

  Finlay lowered her to her own feet, and took her face into his large hands to force her to look at him. “Love, is something amiss?” His eyes searched hers, and his voice was kind.

  She wouldn't read anything into it, it was clear that he just required more attention. So, without speaking, she started to remove her sweater again.

  Finlay had no idea what had changed, but he knew that he didn't like it. She was having a great time not an hour earlier, he was confused and growing more frustrated by the second. The large man put his hands over hers to stop her from disrobing. “Morgan, what happened? Why are you so distant?” He held his hands over hers, waiting for a reply.

  She squared her chin, and looked directly at him. “Nothing is wrong, Finlay. I'm here to see to your needs, and that's what I'm trying to do. Now, where do you want to finish?” She kept her gaze fixed, and almost sent a challenge for the man to drop the subject.

  He no longer wanted to guess what her problem was. This is why I'm single! “Keep your clothes on, we're leaving.” He walked back to the front entrance and picked up her shoes, then walked them back to her. “Let's go.” He wouldn't try to figure her out, he had spent years of his life attempting to please women, and the roller coaster of emotions had always defeated him. No, he would let Morgan work out her own problem, because if he tried to help her, he knew that he would get emotionally attached, and that couldn't happen.

  The ride back to his home was completely silent. Morgan watched the countryside pass by, knowing that Scotland was by far the most beautiful place she had ever seen. If she were different, and in a different situation, she would love nothing more than to explore every part of the breathtaking land. Someday, Morgan. The thought that she would someday be wealthy, and someday travel on her own back to Scotland, was what kept her mind busy until they returned.

  As far as Finlay was concerned, she knew that she had to work harder at pleasing him. There was a fine line between enjoying herself, and pretending to enjoy herself, and she would do everything she could to find that line. Until then, she would just be ready to entertain him when he wanted her.

  They walked into the house, again in silence, and Finlay immediately went to his office and shut the door. Morgan stood in the main hall for several minutes, trying to figure out what her next move should be. It was long after lunch time, so her normal self would have helped herself to another muffin from the kitchen, but she wasn't her normal self. She decided instead to go to the bedroom and wait. She would wait for the next five days in that room if she had to. One thing she knew for certain, she would only respond if he wanted her...nothing more. The wanting her part, however, was her job to make happen, if he decided to join her.

  Not minutes after she rested her head on the pillow, Morgan was sound asleep; the perfect solution to passing the time away. She didn't wake until long after dark, and she did so to an empty room.

  She sat up and brushed the hair from her face with a quick brush of her hand. Her first thought; Finlay. Her second; to stop thinking about Finlay. She moaned softly as she threw her legs to the side of the bed, but stopped herself from standing when she saw a note beside the bed with her name on it.

  “Morgan, I had to leave for a few days. I'll be back Wednesday. Hope you are in a better mood when I return. Finlay.” Morgan's eyes widened, and for a few moments, her mind refused to process the note. But when it did, the note didn't have the intended effect.

  Finlay had received a call the night before from one of his business associates, asking if he would be interested in looking at an investment property in London. At first, Finlay had declined, but the longer he thought about the sudden mood change in Morgan, the more he realized that a few days to work out her problem is what she probably needed. He hoped the time alone would work, because his interest in the beautiful woman was beyond casual. It was wrong, he knew that much, but he couldn't help but hope for a better ending to their time together than how the day had gone.

  So, he called the man back, and told him that he would meet him first thing the next morning. When he went to his room to gather a few things, he was drawn to the blonde in his bed as he never had been drawn to a woman before. He fought his desire to wake her, to talk about what had happened. But in the end, he decided to just leave with nothing more than a note. He had learned years ago that women who became distant needed time to work it out, not words.

  Words; those things that Morgan needed to sputter as loudly as she could. She refrained of course, but it didn't stop her from muttering them to herself. “Son of a bitch! I blew it! I freaking blew it! My first assignment and all I've done is think about myself and act like a child! I'm never going to get good at this, never!” She balled the paper up as small as she could, and took it to the bathroom trash. Morgan dropped it inside, wondering what was going to happen from there.

  At the top of the stairs, she thought it would be worth a try, “Finlay?” Nothing. She descended the remainder of the stairs, “Fin?” she tried again. Only her own voice bounced off the great walls of the room and answered her.

  Though, she was greeted by William and Wallace and their happy demeanor was enough to lighten the angst she was giving herself. She tried to give them equal attention but William persevered and had Morgan to the ground again, giving her a good tongue lashing, of the literal terms.

  “Where's Fin, Willy?” She had her small hands wrapped around the dog's head, giving him much needed ear scratching. He thanked her by licking her hand, but did not give her the answer she searched for. Wallace, found his place across her lap, which looked incredibly ridiculous, but she playfully asked him the same question, “where is he, boy? Where's Finlay?” The dog jumped off her lap and ran to the front door, repeatedly looking from the golden handle to Morgan.

  She used Williams back for leverage and got back to her feet. “Yeah, I miss him too,” she admitted. “I've got to make this right,” she told the uninterested Irish Wolfhounds.

  “Look at me, talking to dogs!” She threw her hands in the air and stomped into the kitchen. The muffins were gone and there wasn't any coffee, but what disturbed her most, there was no Finlay, and it was all her fault. “I'm so stupid!!!!!” Morgan yelled through the empty house, making the dogs bark at her echoing revelation.

  “What if he calls Julianne and tells her what a complete fuck up I am! Jesus Christ, I can't even make it though one job! I can't even be a whore right!” she continued yelling as she stomped her way back up the staircase.

  Maybe a bath would soothe her nerves. Yes, that had to help. She could think and decide how she would make it better. Morgan couldn't remember a time in her life that h
er heart had been filled with so many different emotions at the same time. Disappointment was definitely in the forefront, but fear, hurt and remorse were all close seconds.

  What she wanted to do was crawl back into bed, draw her legs into her chest, pull the cover over her head and have a good 'ol fashioned pity party for herself, but she knew that would accomplish nothing in the long run. “Might make me feel better though,” she almost laughed as she shut off the tap on the bathtub.

  She shed her clothes, and stepped into the rewarding warmth. Just as she had done two days prior, she slid deep into the tub until the water tickled her bottom lip with each movement under the surface. Once in a while she flicked the tap up to add more hot water, but otherwise, she remained motionless, trying to clear her thoughts of the last few days.

  “I've only been a bitch since I met him. One minute, I'm happy-go-lucky Morgan, with raging hormones, ready to jump on his nuts, and the next minute I'm pushing him away and blaming him for all of my own insecurities. I'm not cut out for this, Julianne,” she spoke aloud, to the empty bathroom, hoping it would help if she heard her own words.

  She hadn't bothered to shut the door behind her and her words welcomed two big gray canines to join her in the bathroom.

  “Shoo, get outta here, go! I don't want an audience right now,” she flicked her hand toward them, but the stubborn dogs didn't budge. Instead, they both curled up onto separate carpets on the bathroom floor.

  “Fine,” Morgan couldn't win her own battle, let alone fight with four-hundred pounds worth of dogs.

  “Okay, I can do this,” now she was looking at the four brown eyes on her. “I can, right? All I have to do is find that happy-medium and everything will be good. Just go back to how we were, but....minus kissing...and hand-holding...and...the way he puts his head on my shoulder...” Morgan trailed off, tears began falling down her red cheeks, dropping steadily into the bath water.