After Hours Seduction

by Janice Maynard

  She was going to find out tonight.

  “Can I get a whiskey?” Morgan asked the bartender from where she’d been perched watching Dane and Iris cut the cake and share their first dance.

  “That’s an awfully strong drink,” a deep masculine voice said from Morgan’s side.

  She cocked her head and her breath was stolen from her chest. The voice belonged to the most handsome man she’d ever seen. He had skin the color of shortbread, stunning smooth bone structure, midnight eyes framed by bushy brows and a wide sensual mouth. His hair was short and his tuxedo fit his tall frame perfectly. He towered over her. Morgan was five-seven, so she figured he was over six feet.

  “I can handle my liquor.”

  He regarded her. “Is that right?” When she didn’t respond, he looked at the uniformed bartender. “I’ll have what the lady is having.”

  “Coming right up.”

  “So, what brings you here?” the stranger asked, turning to Morgan. “Are you a friend of the bride or the groom?”

  “Both.” Morgan sipped her whiskey.

  “Really? I’m surprised Dane would have let a beautiful woman like you get away.”

  Morgan chuckled. “Dane and I are more like brother and sister.” The stranger had no idea how true that statement was. “And he couldn’t have picked a better wife. Iris is an amazing mother. The way she’s dealt with Jayden’s condition is nothing short of heroic. Jayden’s very fortunate to have a mother like her in his corner.”

  The bartender returned with another glass and slid it toward the stranger. He accepted and drank a generous swallow. “Sounds like you speak from personal experience.”

  Morgan glanced at Henry Stewart, who was dancing with Fallon Stewart, Dane’s sister. An ache formed in Morgan’s chest. “I do.” She downed the rest of her whiskey and placed it on the bar. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some urgent business to attend to.”

  It was time she finally told Henry she was his daughter. Now was her chance.

  * * *

  Jared Robinson stared after the stunning beauty as he sipped his whiskey. Who was she? She claimed to know Dane and Iris, but he had never seen her before. Of course, the last time he’d seen Dane had been on a pit stop Dane made to Austin last year. He’d indicated he’d met someone, but hadn’t gone into much detail. Jared didn’t have to wait long to find out; as an A-list movie star and America’s Sexiest Man Alive, Dane’s every movement was tracked by the media. The press caught wind that Dane had fathered a child via sperm donation. Who could have predicted Jared’s former running buddy would fall hard and fast for the mother of his child? But fall Dane had.

  Jared had no intention of going down the wedded-bliss path. He was merely here on sufferance, paying his respects to his friend. He and Dane had once been the screwups of their respective families. When they were younger, they’d been rabble-rousers, constantly getting into trouble. His father, Clay, had thought putting Jared in a boarding school would tame him, but that only gave Jared more access to females.

  Jared had a way with the ladies and was unapologetic about it. He liked them in all colors, shapes and sizes. But today, there wasn’t anyone at the wedding who could hold a candle to the woman he’d shared a drink with.

  Straight jet-black hair hung gloriously down the woman’s back. She had caramel brown skin, big expressive hazel eyes and a beautiful full mouth tinted with peach gloss that Jared wouldn’t mind placing his lips on. She wore a blush gown with crisscross spaghetti straps that showed off her slender back. She was easily about five foot six or seven with a lithe body. Jared wanted to get to know her better, but she’d rushed off. He would remedy the situation before the night was over. After suffering through Dane’s wedding, Jared was entitled to a little fun and she was it.

  * * *

  Morgan was determined. Tonight, she would reveal her true identity to Henry Stewart. She had no idea how he would take her revelation, but it was time to find out.

  She was thwarted by the wedding planner, who was now ushering the guests toward the front driveway to send off the happy couple in a classic Rolls-Royce decked with streamers. Morgan was swept away in the melee. She now stood near the car and was handed a sparkler. From her vantage point, Morgan saw Dane and Iris kiss Jayden and hug their families.

  Morgan’s eyes welled with tears. She should be standing over there with them. She shouldn’t have waited so long to tell the Stewarts the truth. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel like an outsider with her own family only a few feet away. She was about to push people aside, when Dane stepped away and came toward her. To Morgan’s surprise, he wrapped her in his arms.

  “You’re part of the reason this was all possible,” Dane whispered in her ear. “You helped get us back together. Thank you.”

  Morgan couldn’t stop a tear from escaping. “You’re welcome.”

  Seconds later, Dane was gone, helping Iris into the Rolls-Royce. Morgan watched her half brother drive away to his happily-ever-after. She sighed and then glanced up to see the rest of the Stewarts watching the car wistfully.

  Now was her time. She had to seize it.

  Smoothing her hands down her dress, she made her way toward them. Morgan’s legs felt wobbly as if she were a newborn foal. Dane’s sister Fallon and her husband, Gage, were chasing after their son, Dylan, who was always on the move. Morgan didn’t see where Ayden and Maya had gone, but Henry and his wife, Nora, were still there in all their finery. Henry wore a tuxedo and Nora was in a one-shoulder black gown. Neither of them acknowledged her presence until Morgan cleared her throat.

  “May I help you?” Nora asked, raising a brow.

  Morgan ignored the look of disdain Nora gave her. Whitney, Dane’s publicist, had hooked Morgan up with a designer who loaned her the dress she was wearing, so she wasn’t sure why Nora was finding fault. “I was hoping to have a word with Mr. Stewart.”

  “Tonight is a time for family,” Nora responded. “If you want to talk business, it will have to be another time.”

  “It’s okay, Nora.” Henry smiled down at his wife. “I can be magnanimous. I mean, Dane got married tonight. That is worth celebrating.”

  Nora sighed. “All right, but don’t be long.” She picked up the sides of her gown and walked toward the reception area.

  “Thank you,” Morgan said as she and Henry stepped away from the crowd and headed toward the beach. When they stopped, Morgan allowed herself time to really look at her father.

  She’d seen only pictures, and although she’d studied them religiously trying to see parts of herself in the man, it was different seeing him in person. Henry had more salt than pepper in his closely cropped hair and his eyes were just like hers, hazel gray. Morgan figured her father was slightly under six feet, but no less impressive in her mind.

  “All right, young lady, the floor is yours,” Henry stated. “What can I do for you?”

  Morgan swallowed. Her mouth felt dry and full of cotton. “Yes... I.”

  “Well? Spit it out. I don’t have all day.”

  Although she’d waited her whole life for this moment, there was no easy way to say what she had to say. She just had to spit it out. “I’m your daughter.”

  Henry’s eyes grew wide with alarm. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me,” Morgan replied. “I’m your daughter.”

  “Like hell you are!” he bellowed. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, young lady, but you’re off the mark. My daughter Fallon—” he pointed across the lawn “—is standing over there.”

  “You have another,” Morgan stated. “With Crystal Young. You met her in Las Vegas when she was performing as a showgirl at the Tropicana. You spent one night together and I’m the result.”

  “No, no!” Henry shook his head furiously. “You’re wrong!” he yelled and then glanced around to see people were starting to watch their interactio
n, so he lowered his voice. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never been unfaithful to my wife.”

  Morgan’s ire rose. “C’mon, Henry. Nora wouldn’t be the first wife you cheated on.”

  “So, what, you’ve done your research?” Henry huffed, “That means nothing. My first marriage with Lillian is public record.”

  Morgan noticed the crowd watching them had grown and Nora and Fallon were charging toward them. “So you’re going to deny you spent the night with my mother at the Tropicana?

  Henry glanced up at Nora, who was only a few feet away. “Yes. I don’t know who you’re talking about. You’re mistaken.”

  “I’m not mistaken!” Morgan yelled. “You’re my father.”

  A hush came over the crowd and suddenly even the reception music paused. All eyes were on the two of them. Nora had a look of utter shock on her face while Fallon’s was more of disbelief.

  Henry headed toward his wife. “Nora!” But she was running through the grass. He turned to his daughter. “Fallon?”

  Fallon held up her hand and shook her head. “I don’t want to hear it, Daddy. Not now. I’m going after Mom.” Seconds later, Morgan was left alone with her father.

  Henry spun around to face Morgan. “You!” He pointed at her. “You did this! On what should have been one of the happiest days for our family, you come here and cause discord. I don’t know who you are and I will never claim you as my daughter. You should leave because your presence is no longer wanted.” Without another word, he raced after Nora.

  Morgan stared at Henry’s back as he literally ran away from her. When she could no longer see him, she looked up and saw everyone at the reception was watching her.

  Everyone.

  Waiting for her to do what? Make more of an embarrassment out of herself than she already had? Well, they were in for a rude awakening. The party was over. Lowering her head, Morgan shuffled away as fast as she could and went straight for the bar. As she walked by, the crowd parted like the Red Sea. As if she carried some sort of plague. And maybe she did. She was glad she’d at least waited for Dane and Iris’s departure before confronting Henry.

  Had she been hoping to be accepted with open arms? Of course not. But she hadn’t expected complete and utter rejection, either.

  When she made it to the bar, she eyed the bartender and mouthed the word whiskey to him. He understood and immediately came over with the bottle. When he began pouring the requisite two thumbs she motioned for him to continue. Only when the tumbler was full did she tell him to stop.

  Morgan took a swift mouthful. The liquid burned going down and it felt good. She doubted it would wash away the stain of being humiliated, but it was a start.

  “You didn’t get the reaction you bargained for?”

  Morgan glanced up at the stranger from earlier. Their exchange seemed like a lifetime ago even though it had been little more than a half hour since they’d shared a drink. She eyed him warily, noting he’d dispensed with his tie and undone several buttons on his shirt. “I’m in no mood for any commentary from the peanut gallery.”

  “Perhaps you should have had some earlier,” he responded, his mouth quirking. “I could have told you you’re timing for that revelation was lousy.”

  Morgan took another generous sip of her drink. “There was never going to be a right time. And I’d waited long enough.”

  “Apparently not long enough.”

  “Do you have to berate me? I’ve dealt with enough recriminations tonight.”

  He smiled. “Of course not. I’m sorry. How about we start over? My name is Jared.”

  “Jared.” She turned to face him. It was hard to be angry at someone as good-looking as him. Morgan leaned over to clink her glass with his and saw it was empty. She motioned to the bartender. “Get Jared another drink. We’re getting to know each other.”

  Jared was just the sort of distraction she needed to help her forget this terrible night.

  Copyright © 2020 by Yahrah Yisrael

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  ISBN: 9781488062902

  After Hours Seduction

  Copyright © 2020 by Janice Maynard

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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