Secret Admirer (The House of Morgan Book 13)

by Victoria Pinder

  He nodded fast, which took her by surprise. “The last time I thought it didn’t, I almost ended up ruining a business opportunity for my brother.”

  She picked up her glass--would he be put off by her boldness? If there was a napkin, she would jot her number on it. She had to get back to the plan--a date. Technically a second one as this definitely counted now. “I doubt that will happen with me." Unless his brother was in the garage business? Although, her dad could help him get the right tires. "I’m hoping that once we are both more at ease, and loosen up a little, that we might find out if we’re compatible.”

  His eyebrow raised and her blood warmed. How would he kiss? She imagined how she’d run her hands over his five o’clock shadow and let his face tickle her skin as his lips claimed hers.

  With a blink, she shook that image off. He leaned closer and said, “That sounds interesting.”

  The zip inside her was for him. She nodded, less like a toy and more relaxed. “First dates are important, and I don’t want to ruin anything but I want to give you my number so you’ll call me again, so we can go out on a second, planned date.”

  Her pulse pounded as she held out her hand for his phone. She breathed an inward sigh of relief when he gave it to her. She added her digits as he asked, “This is a date to you?”

  Her entire body felt hot, but she handed his phone back and ignored the quick spark that rushed through her from their brief touch. The white of his pants was perfectly clean without one speck of dirt and her dress… well, it was the best of her horrible choices that all had stains on them. She folded her hands back in front of front of her and nodded. “Yeah, why not? It’s just the two of us. It’s a beautiful afternoon where the sun is about to set and you might turn out to be who I hope you are. It’s something to discover.”

  He scratched his chin. The hair on her arms stood at attention as she waited for judgment, like this was some sort of courtroom. Her legs began to shake under the table, and finally he said, “Rebecca, I can honestly say I’ve not met anyone like you.”

  Fair--she'd never done anything like this before. Would he turn her down? If she didn't calm down, she’d end up in the hospital. She fanned her face. “Is that… never mind. I won’t ask the same question again. What kind of woman are you interested in?”

  He studied her like she was a rat in a lab. “My brother told me that there was a woman out there for me that would make me happy to come home. I told him I didn’t believe I’d met her yet.”

  Did that mean that he also believed in true love? Anything was possible. She stilled though every cell in her body was alive and asked, “And now?”

  He took a large swallow of his wine and then looked at her as if really seeing her. This time she didn’t feel like some alien, realizing that he was checking her out. Maybe that’s what he’d done all this time? He touched her hand. “I don’t know, but I’m open to finding out. I don’t want to be like my father.”

  Who was his father that he didn’t want to be like? Was it wrong to just go home and Google him? She had the sense it was online, but she didn’t want to turn into a huge stalker. She'd already chased him down.

  “What was he like so I can tell you if you are acting like him?”

  She decided to let the rest unfold and she’d have to hold onto this decision when she was home, alone, in her bed dreaming of Bart. Bart’s chin lifted like he was bracing himself for an argument. “He used women, including my mother, and rumors are that my sister, who I thought was dead, might actually be alive. He possibly kidnapped his own daughter.”

  A tremble washed through her at the idea. That sounded horrible. Her father had been stable and raised her after her mother took off "to find herself" or so she’d claimed in various postcards throughout the years. Her father had married her mother just out of high school and neither had known better. Now, with his new girlfriend, her father seemed to have found his happily-ever-after.

  He'd protected her from her mother's disasters. She considered fathers to be generally awesome people, but then Melissa’s parents had abandoned her and she'd been adopted, growing up next door to Rebecca. Everyone had different experiences, none of them perfect. She pressed her hand against her heart. “Kidnapped her?”

  He poured them more wine from the bottle while he said, “She’s probably dead, but I need to keep myself in check and never be like him.”

  Once his glass was full and he'd topped hers off, she held up her wine. “Well, cheers. To new beginnings.”

  He winked, clinked glasses with her and said, “To new beginnings. Where you’re not nervous anymore, cara.”

  Rebecca hoped this meant he’d call her.

  Bart Morgan was genuine, and more real than she’d ever imagined--how could she make his life better? And might Bart Morgan actually be her prince charming?

  Chapter 4

  Bart finished his jog through the hotel estate. Parrots were wild here and sang to each other. The palm trees shaded the jogging path, but almost no one was out.

  The heat burned through him so he understood why.

  The moment he returned to his hotel suite, he peeled off his sweat-stained lime green t-shirt and tossed it in a pile he’d probably burn.

  In Italy, it was hot but not this sticky.

  He headed straight toward his shower when his cell phone rang. He stopped, saw it was Gio, and answered. After their hellos, Bart tore off his sweat pants too and turned on the water in the shower. Gio asked, “You coming to Peter’s family party tonight?”

  “I guess.” He stuck his fingers beneath the spray and adjusted the water for the right temperature. He opened his closet to find a business shirt and some slacks for the day.

  He planned to meet potential inventors and see what they offered for clean fuel that he would fund if it was the right project. He tossed his work clothes on the bed while his brother asked, “You’re breathing hard. Did you just get back from a run? I doubt you’d answer if it was sex.”

  Running gave him focus and last night he’d kept thinking about Rebecca--how could he explain to Gio, when he didn't understand his fascination? “Yeah. I needed to clear my head.”

  Gio asked, “Why?”

  He rolled his shoulders and stared out the window at the tropical estate where the sun shone over a blue pool in the middle of an oasis. Naked, he was invisible to anyone from his top floor--unless he stepped out on the balcony and opened the glass doors. He imagined Rebecca, outside and waiting for him. He'd admired her bravado, a woman obviously out of her element but rising to the challenge, so he wouldn't put it past her. His body pulsed. “I met a beautiful woman last night.”

  Gio laughed. “And you didn’t use up all that energy on her?”

  Fair. His brothers knew he always enjoyed a woman that struck his fancy, but no one else had ever risked her neck, tailing him in traffic. Her bright cherry-red hair with blonde roots and turquoise eyes made her unforgettable--she'd been unusually confident while out of her element. He’d gone to confront her, but instead, he’d asked her… on a date. How strange she’d called it that. “No. I let her go home.”

  “Well, if she couldn’t sate you, there are plenty of other women happy to meet the demands of a Morgan."

  This coming from his happily married brother. He checked the bathroom. Finally there was enough steam to make it a sauna. Bart walked back into the bedroom. “I’m not looking for an easy, no strings attached-”

  “You aren’t?” his brother interrupted.

  "Stop." Rebecca’s full mouth, outlined in rose, had captured his imagination. He rubbed his temple. “After what happened with Nadia, I wanted to change.”

  His brother sounded incredulous. “So you didn’t sleep with this mystery woman because you’re interested in her?”

  Rebecca both scared and fascinated him. She'd worn an older sundress with a stain on it to the yacht club and then for drinks with him. But she knew about Maserati tires and caught him off guard with talk about Prince Charming. She ha
dn't simpered or acted like a shy virgin when he'd admired her figure--which he'd give a ten. Her arms, toned, her calves sleek, her figure slender. While he'd been pursued before, no one had ever been so upfront about it. They were from two different worlds and would never fit. Bart gave his brother the nickel version of last night. “No, that’s not it. She was unusual.”

  “How so?”

  Bart needed to shower and change. He didn’t need to think about Rebecca anymore. “It was just how she talked and acted.”

  "Unusual good, or bad?" Gio badgered. Bart selected his tie for work.

  “Neither.” He just couldn't explain, so he said, “Look, I need to shower and get ready for my meeting with the inventors I invited to pitch me their ideas to receive my funding.”

  Gio said, “Okay, see you tonight. And you can bring this mystery girl.”

  Rebecca at his brother’s estate? At the house his father called the seat of the House of Morgan. His father would be mortified, which made it appealing. “I’ll think about it.”

  But he couldn’t imagine it. He put his phone on charge and finally took that shower.

  The idea of Rebecca at his side tonight never left his thoughts. Would she be able to hold her own in conversation?

  Let it go, Bart. He’d find someone else, someone more his style.

  But once he tied his tie, he picked up his phone to put it in his pocket, knowing good and well that Rebecca had added her number.

  He scrolled his contacts and there she was. She even put a heart next to her name with an emoji. No one else had one of those in his phone. If he called, it didn’t mean he was interested in forever. That was silly. But his pulse elevated and he held his breath while he pressed the call button.

  A moment later he heard the click and froze. He walked out onto his balcony and stared down at the pool as people meandered below, ordering drinks or settling in their lounge chairs. “Rebecca?”

  She said, “Bart! I’m happy you called.”

  He stepped back into the shadows of his room. Her voice held more excitement in it than anyone else’s he remembered at hearing from him. This was stupid. He was just a regular guy, who was curious about what she looked like under that old dress she’d worn yesterday. “I was wondering if you’re free this evening. There is a party at my brother’s house and I’d like you to come with me.”

  “I’d love to come.” She had so much cheer in her tones that he had no choice but to smile.

  His blood quickened. Rebecca had something special that made him aware of her, despite the list of reasons why he shouldn't. Perhaps sex would sate the feeling. What flavor would she taste like? Sex was something he understood. “Text me your address and I’ll pick you up.”

  “Looking forward to it.” And he believed her! She wasn't the type to play games.

  He hung up the phone and tried to shake the duality of feelings she caused. Sex might help, but if this was more, then he was in trouble.

  Bart ignored that and headed to the conference room.

  The staff he'd hired to help him run the presentations had already set things up. He took his seat and hoped one of these inventors had found a viable way to convert carbon emissions into oxygen that he could sell to factories and car makers around the globe to stop global warming.

  He'd had high hopes but the day progressed painfully slow. No inventions would work for him to invest in. At the last presentation, he’d contemplated stabbing the inventor who had decided to switch out his pitch midway to some gaming investment instead.

  At five o’clock he splashed water on his face, changed and headed out to pick up Rebecca.

  Her deep blue eyes, like the ocean at night, made him wonder if the color was real, or manufactured, like her hair.

  Perhaps dressed up, she’d fit in with his family--maybe yesterday, she'd just met him on a whim. As his limo drove down a street of one-story houses with multiple cars parked in the driveways, his lips thinned.

  The limo stopped, and he stepped out.

  Two of Rebecca’s neighbors stopped cutting their bushes to stare at him.

  How in the world did Rebecca live like this? His skin was jumpy, but he pressed her doorbell.

  Hmm. He didn’t know if it rang or not, but then the door unlocked. Rebecca’s hair was up in a stylish ponytail, but her black dress had seen better days.

  “Welcome, Bart. You still look like a prince charming type.” She motioned with her finger for him to come inside. “I hadn’t imagined you.”

  “Caro, don’t put me on a pedestal. I’m just a man.”

  Her chandelier shimmered clean, but her cream walls were dated and the ceilings low. He followed her out of the dark hall and into the living area where she signaled for him to wait. He stilled as she ran into a side room that must be her bedroom as he asked, “You live here?”

  She came out a moment later and he saw another stain on her sleeve. She carried shoes that had almost no sole left and he glanced at her up and down.

  When she smiled, her ocean-blue eyes gleamed and made him forget that she wasn't dressed in designer clothes. “It’s not a mansion but it’s mine and it’s paid for. And sorry I am wearing this dress. My father needed me to fill in at work today which cut out my shopping time, and when I told him I had a date, he told me to wear this. So I did.”

  “We can fix the dress.”

  Her spine straightened, and she stood taller. His own skin jolted. He must have offended her and now she might not want to go with him.

  “I’m out of my element here with you, Rebecca.” Right. He needed to find a way for others to see she fit in or no one would let him live down tonight. “It’s a house for a maid.”

  “Well, I’m not a maid to anyone.” She shrugged and motioned toward the door. “We can go now.”

  And he’d have to find a way to not entirely insult her like he had. Bart noticed the sway of her hips as she moved very gracefully. His lips tingled like he wanted to kiss her, though that seemed a dangerous thought. “I don’t mean to offend you. Is this only a thousand square feet?”

  She took her keys out of her small beaded pocketbook. “Twelve hundred actually.”

  Rebecca propped the door open with her foot and gestured for him to leave her house as he asked, “Including the garage?”

  He stepped onto the path and she locked the door behind her.

  Bart looked to the right and saw the neighbors staring at him like he was from another planet.

  Maybe he was. His pants were designed by his brother and not due for the runway for another year. Tempted to call the date off, he turned toward Rebecca, who gave him another of her dazzling smiles as she stepped out into the afternoon sun. A second stain appeared on her shoulder.

  No one would ever believe Bart was serious as she walked beside him toward the limo. “Yeah. I’m excited to see your brother’s house.”

  Right. This wasn’t a big deal. Clothes mattered to his family and him or he’d have never noticed Rebecca’s lack of… style. Clothes were easily fixed though, if she was willing. Rebecca struck something inside him that he wasn’t sure how to label, but he told the driver to stop at the House of Morgan store and then held the door open for her as he said, “We need to make a stop first.”

  “Where?” She ducked inside the limo.

  With the right clothes, no one would dare insult her or treat her like she didn’t belong next to him. He scooted in beside her and the driver closed the door for him as he nodded at Rebecca and said, “To my sister’s store. I want to ensure you have the right armor for battle.”

  “Is your family gathering a battlefield?”

  “Hopefully not, but there is always press nearby, snapping photos of the more famous Morgans. And you’ll need a better dress to fit in.”

  She tugged the fabric and said, “I know it’s stained but if someone takes our picture my father might see that I didn’t wear the dress he bought for me.”

  “It’s up to you.” He pointed to the two spots. His br
other already thought he’d risked his fashion empire once with Nadia. He wouldn't embarrass Gio with Rebecca. This was an easy fix, if she didn't let her pride get in the way, then he could relax and get to know more about Rebecca.

  Her face turned bright red and she closed her eyes as she asked, “You saw those? I'd hoped washing took them out. So yeah, let’s pick up a new dress.”

  He offered her champagne from the refrigerator. He took out the bottle as he glanced at her sleeve and handed her a glass to hold as he popped the cork. “It’s right there, but I promise no one will doubt you belong with me if you have the right clothes.”

  The pop sounded loud and she held out the glasses as he poured. “Look, I’ll pay for the dress.”

  That wasn’t necessary. Rebecca was different but maybe that was good. He put the bottle back. Once she handed him a glass he said, “Don’t bother. My sister and brother own a clothing line. I’ve never been charged for clothes.”

  She clinked glasses with him. “I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”

  Siblings popped out at him all the time. While he'd met everyone once at his brother’s wedding, that night was a blur, and then again at the fashion show. Tonight would be a more relaxed gathering. They sipped their champagne. “I have plenty. I don’t really know half of them, but tonight will be a good chance to talk.”

  Another bright beam of a smile that shined like a beacon of light from inside her mesmerized him. “Well, I’m glad to join you then and be your backup in case you need to escape a conversation or two.”

  The earnestness about her kept him off balance. They drove toward Miracle Mile which wasn’t far from where she lived, but the street became trendier and people strolled beneath tree-shaded streets as they neared the headquarters of his siblings.

  Rebecca glanced around like everything was new and exciting. He took her flute from her to put on the counter for later as he said, “You don’t know much about me, do you?”

  "No." The limo stopped. “After meeting you, I refused to look you up online. I hoped that you'd call, but I don't want you to think I'm a stalker--even though I chased you down.”