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

by Brandi Ratliff

  “Oh, thank you!” She stood up and nearly ran to her terminal. By the time she boarded again, Morgan's mind had all but stopped working from the constant on and off sleep that she'd had for the last day and a half.

  “I'm so sorry!” Morgan quickly started grabbing her personal items from the floor and seats as a man was in the process of sitting down. She had tried to stow her carry on and forgot to close it before lifting it above their heads.

  “Oh, it's alright.” The handsome man that Morgan would have guessed to be in his fifties, helped her pick up her items. Her scrapbook was wide open when he picked it up, and several photos fell out in the process. “Here you go.” He managed to pick them all up and hand them to her as she sat down and crammed everything back into her bag.

  “I'm sorry...it's been a long day... and.... sorry.” She was far too tired to explain, or even apologize anymore.

  The man nodded sympathetically and didn't try to speak again until they were in the air. “I'm Felix Bashe, by the way.” He put his hand out and his smile brought one to her lips in return.

  “Morgan, nice to meet you.” She took his hand and then remembered to thank him for his help earlier. She also couldn't help but mention what she thought of his accent. “Please tell me you're Swedish, because I love your accent!” Felix laughed and nodded again.

  “I assume it's your first time to Sweden, then?” She told him that it was, and the two of them spent the rest of the flight discussing Stockholm and the surrounding areas.

  It would have been nice to sleep, but Morgan was grateful to have had someone to talk to. “You've made the time go so quickly, thank you.” Her beautiful smile made him put his hand over his heart and smile back.

  “My girl, that smile could melt the thickest ice. I'm glad to have met you as well.” They laughed and walked together until they finally left the plane

  *****

  “Come on...come on...” Morgan leaned over to look through the flaps of the luggage belt, hoping to see anything that resembled her pink bags. “Seriously?” The same black, green, and blue bags circled for the last fifteen minutes. “No, this can't be happening.”

  The first person she saw that looked as if they worked there was flagged down. “Excuse me, are there any other bags that are coming through?” When she watched his head shake 'no,' she put her face in her hands and quietly cursed.

  Chapter Two

  “Oh, dammit!” she mumbled under her breath and looked around the area. No sign of Alrik, nor any sign of anyone holding up her name. She knew she had to find her bags, but she also knew she should wait for her client. Shit! Her bags were going first on her priority list. If her client wasn't already there, then he must not be in a huge hurry.

  She made a long walk all the way down to the front lobby, to customer service, only to muddle through a conversation she barely understood to find out that missing luggage reports were filed on the other side of the airport; near the luggage pick up. Of course it is, she thought. She walked her tired feet back to where she began and after several passes through the long hallway, she finally found a desk with a tiny MISSING LUGGAGE label.

  “Hello?” The tired girl leaned over the desk and dinged the little brass bell several times. There was no one there, but she was hoping the noise would draw attention to the employee. Her eyes scanned the desk and she saw a sign. “Return in ten minutes,” she read aloud. “Are...you...kidding...me?”

  A young woman had appeared behind the desk after waiting only three minutes, but she only told Morgan that she couldn't help her and had to wait for Albin to return to file her claim. The 'ten minutes' turned into thirty before a rather large Albin found his way behind the counter.

  “Can I help you?” he asked Morgan, shuffling sideways to fit between the desk and a large pillar.

  The young girl took a deep breath to avoid an emotional explosion on the hefty man and calmly explained that her luggage hadn't made an appearance on the belt. Albin typed a few things into his computer and verified that her luggage had never made it to the plane to Istanbul.

  “Well...how long is this going to take?” She crossed her arms and asked.

  “Fill this out,” he replied, passing her a small stack of papers. That doesn't answer my question. Morgan did as she was told and filled out her claim forms, then was forced to impatiently listen to Albin's life story, in which he explained the time he lost his luggage back in 1992 on the way to California before he gave her a claim number.

  “We'll call when it comes in. Should be by Thursday.”

  “Thursday!? But... I just....” She sighed and nodded her head. It just wasn't her day. Morgan pulled her phone out to get the time and saw that she had spent over an hour trying to make the claim. She thanked the man and ran back to the pick-up area.

  “Oh, I'm sorry, Alrik. Where are you?” The only other people waiting was an older couple with translation books up to their noses. “Definitely not my day!” She waited for another twenty minutes, pacing back and forth in front of the large doors and even went back inside near the luggage belt, just in case, but still no sign of him, nor a waiting valet. She knew that they had either missed each other, or he hadn't shown up at all. She pulled out her phone, deciding to call her boss.

  *****

  “Mr. Lager, Morgan has just called to inform me that her luggage was lost in her travels and it seems as if you two may have missed each other while she was filing her claim,” Julianne's sophisticated voice spoke to Alrik, explaining the situation.

  Shit. His valet had left the airport thirty minutes ago, after waiting over an hour. Both he and his assistant had assumed that Morgan had missed her flight or something else came up. “Thank you, Julianne, I'll go right now to pick her up. I think you're right, we just missed her.” They hung up and Alrik took in a long breath of air. He'd get to see the beauty after all. “Hey, Dag, Morgan is at the airport!” he shouted to his assistant who was already back to his usual business in the kitchen.

  “Yes sir, I'll go back to the airport and get her now,” the man folded his cleaning cloth and was already making his way to grabbing his jacket before Alrik told him he'd go instead. The man protested, but not much, Alrik wasn't one to typically argue with.

  “Don't make anything until I get back, she's probably starving and we'll let her decide.” With that, Alrik walked out the door and into the brisk cold of a Swedish November day and climbed into his still-warm car.

  *****

  Julianne called Morgan back once she was off the phone with Alrik and told her he'd be on his way. Of course, Morgan was overly apologetic, but it wasn't her fault the luggage was lost and Julianne held no fault with her. Morgan had gone back inside of the building and car watched from behind the window. Her jacket wasn't giving her much comfort from the brutal wind and she was growing more frustrated by the minute at the thought of her only clothing for the next week being the clothing on her back. It was also the only time she had hardly anything in her carry-on bag. Normally, she carried all of her makeup inside, but with the newly found room in her suitcase, she had put her makeup bag inside.

  The only things her carry on bag offered her was the light jacket she was wearing, the scrapbook, camera, wallet, photos, her laptop, some lip balm and half a bag of chips. Great. Just as she was thinking about gathering sticky notes and making a sweater out of them, she saw a vehicle pull up in front of the building. A vehicle that stood out among all of the others that had pulled up for last half hour; one that she knew had to belong to a class two, or maybe even a three.

  When she saw the tree of a man climb out of the vehicle, she knew. “Holy shit,” she whispered. Despite her incessant shivering, she felts her palms become moist and quickly rubbed them on her thighs. “Holy shit,” she said again. He wasn't just tall. He was tall, tall. Like, the tallest man she'd probably ever get the chance to stand next to. Not to mention, his picture hadn't done him justice.

  She thought she had gained a fi
rm grasp on dealing with meeting her clients and getting over the first-meet butterflies, but when they kept being so damn sexy, she couldn't help turning into a voiceless statue. Before she knew it, he was walking through the double doors, and before she could even say hi, he did something completely unexpected; he kissed her. He walked up to her, wrapped his arm behind her back and brought her close for a warm, welcoming, kiss.

  When he released her, he had the biggest smile on his face, one that revealed stark white teeth, and for a moment, Morgan was lost in his Arctic blue eyes. Although, there was nothing cold about him-all of his features were warm and inviting.

  “Either you're Alrik, or Sweden is the friendliest country in the world!” Morgan finally found her voice, put her hands on her hips and crossed her ankles; mostly to relieve the pressure from her feet, but also out of a tinge of shyness that had crept up out of nowhere.

  He looked back and forth as if he were searching for someone. “Well, I hope you're Morgan. I don't see any other women here who I'd hope to spend a week with.” Morgan smiled back. Class two, classy, she decided. He continued, “I heard about your bag situation, let's go get you some clothes.”

  She eyed the handsome man to get a good look at him while he wasn't paying attention, mostly during their walk back to his vehicle. Alrik watched the passing traffic, and Morgan watched him. Definitely better in person than the photo. He was at least six foot seven, even taller than Finlay, and he had a slender build like Gio. Somehow, Morgan could already picture his toned body underneath all his warm clothing, and the thought helped warm her as well. His hair was a few inches above his shoulders, and was very light brown with blonde streaks that seemed to dance in the blowing wind. I wonder if my Viking has a long...boat? She giggled at herself as they finally reached his car.

  They were strapped in and driving before Morgan spoke again. “So, do you always greet people like that?” She wasn't sure how else to find out his immediate plans, because if he wanted to get right to it that night, Morgan knew that she would more than likely sleep right through it.

  “Come here, you're freezing.” Alrik reached around her body while driving and unhooked her seat belt. She looked up at him before moving, but the warmth he offered was too inviting to turn down. Morgan tucked her body under his arm and hid her hands inside of his thick black coat.

  Still driving, he latched her middle seat belt around her and pulled her tightly against the side of his body. “To answer your question, no. I don't expect anything from you tonight.” He smiled at her when she quickly looked up at him.

  “Wow, I guess I had that written all over my face, huh?” The giggles were floating at the surface of what was left of her mind as she tucked back under his arm.

  “Yeah, but I don't blame you. As far as when...well...that will depend on how long it takes you to want me.” She didn't look up that time, but he could almost feel the smile on her lips.

  “What if I don't?” Her giggles broke free when he dug his knuckles into her side.

  “You will, it's just a matter of time.” The two of them playfully discussed how much she would or would not desire him all the way to the large boutique in the center of town. Alpha, that was the one word that came to her sleep deprived mind, she had a true alpha on her hands, and she found him more than appealing.

  Morgan had to admit that a part of her was already warming up. “I think I'm already madly in love with your accent, does that count?” She found him completely charming when he put his head down slightly and blushed.

  “Well, if that's all it takes then I shall read War and Peace to you daily until you're putty in my hands, Morgan.” The way he said her name was already doing the trick. Both of them laughed at her sarcastic face-fanning at her hearing her name from his full lips.

  When he opened her door to let her out, Morgan's tired eyes took in the area and she wondered if she had ever seen a more beautiful arrangement of buildings. Dublin was close, but the several layers of sidewalks around the stores and offices had to tip the scale in Stockholm's favor.

  She was still turning to look at as much as she could as they entered the upscale clothing store. “Four?” He was looking at her when she heard his voice.

  “Uh, four?”

  “Your size, are you a four?” Morgan drew her brows together and nodded slowly. How could he tell?

  “Get her at least three outfits, she'll need everything. Oh, and something to sleep in as well.” He guided her to an elegant sitting area as they waited.

  “Alrik, uh..I can pick out my own clothes, and pay for them.” She wasn't sure how she felt about his forward behavior, but again, her mind wasn't willing to work very hard to find out.

  “I'm certain you can, but why should you?” Then he motioned to another woman. “She'll need womanly items, cosmetics and the like.” The woman nodded and went to the back of the store. When she resurfaced, the clerk was wearing her coat and she walked out the front door.

  Morgan let out a small sigh of defeat as she leaned back in the red velvet chair. “Thank you, but I'm sure I don't need that much.” When he didn't respond other than sitting back as well, and draping his arm across the back of her chair, she resigned herself to the fact that Alrik was her first official client that teetered between a class two and three. In time, he may fit in one or the other, but for right then, he was a fair mix of both. The only information that Morgan offered was her shoe size, as the woman had already sized her up and announced her bra size, with razor sharp accuracy.

  Twenty minutes later, the woman who had left was walking back into the boutique carrying three medium sized bags of cosmetics and the like.

  On his cue, Morgan stood with Alrik and met her at the counter as the other clerk piled the last of Morgan's new clothes on top of the glass case.He knew better than to ask if there was anything that she saw, something else that she wanted to add to the pile, so he simply slipped her new thick faux fur coat onto her shoulders, and paid the bill.

  “Have everything delivered here.” Alrik wrote down the address then walked Morgan back to his car.

  We could have brought it with us. Morgan couldn't understand why he would have a few bags delivered when they could have easily carried them themselves.

  Alrik stepped into the vehicle, and answered her mental concern. “I know the owner and he insists that I have everything delivered. I guess you could say that he's a...what do you say in America... a snob.” Morgan just nodded as he started the car, and she tried to remind herself to be more careful around him since he seemed to be the master of reading facial expressions. She also realized that he had the type of personality that meant he usually got his own way, made his own decisions, and hardly ever compromised.

  “Thanks, for everything. I probably would have been lost for a day or two until I forced myself to buy some clothes.” She laughed at the truth in her words, and she was suddenly grateful for his take-charge personality. “Are you always like this? I mean, just knowing what you want and...getting it?” Her tired mind was speaking for itself, and she just let the words flow as if she had no control over them.

  “Morgan, I know exactly what I want, and how I want it.” His eyes slowly and purposely traveled her body until he returned to her face. “When you're ready, I'll get what I want.”

  A stirring inside of Morgan made her more than curious about what it was he wanted, aside from the norm, and she had a feeling that she would enjoy what the Viking would offer.

  Alrik's estate came into view as soon as they left the center of town, and Morgan's mouth dropped open as she stumbled from the car. His house was definitely a class three, whether the man was or not.

  Chapter Three

  “Beautiful,” Morgan spoke barely above a whisper, then watched her breath trail up into the cool air. The home was all brick and seemed to go on forever to the left and right, even beyond her vision. More windows than she could count illuminated a golden hue that made her feel welcome before they
could even enter. Either side was perfectly symmetrical of each other and on each side were half-circle rooms that jetted from the front of the house with large bay windows displaying the same welcoming light. In the middle was a series of steps that grew wider as they descended toward the driveway.

  “Yes,” Alrik replied as he opened the door for Morgan. She realized he was staring at her and his comment had absolutely nothing to do with the house.

  She blushed, still unsure why he made her so nervous, and followed his lead into the house. The inside was even more marvelous than the exterior and the first thing she noticed was the massive fireplace in the corner. Secondly, she noticed the huge couch in front of it. Oh, I could sleep the hell out of that couch.

  “Hungry?” Alrik pulled her out of her thoughts with one word.

  “Ravenous!” she replied, directing her attention back to the tantalizing man.

  He asked her what she'd like and after he listed off a few items, she decided on chicken.

  “Dag?” Alrik walked up to the kitchen and leaned on the counter with his elbow.

  “Yes sir?”

  “Make that chicken and pasta dish, but lighter on the sauce than the last time,” Alrik waved his arm around to make things happen in the kitchen. “Let me show you around,” he took Morgan's hand and pulled her away from the kitchen as she was about to introduce herself to the butler. He doesn't seem like the playful type anyway. She looked over her shoulder at the tall man and saw he was already getting down to business.

  “I could get lost in this house, Alrik!” Morgan looked up to the tall ceilings, then back to the hall which seemed as if they had been walking down for five minutes straight. He had stopped along the way, briefly pointing out the library and guest bedrooms and his office; each room impressing the young woman just as much as the last. His home was lavish, but it wasn't as sterile as Gio's, nor as elegant as Finlay's. Alrik had found the perfect happy-medium when it came to interior decorating.