[House of Morgan 01.0 - 03.0] Boxed Set

by Victoria Pinder

  She stumbled and then let him hold her to lead, but this time with a frown. "What are you talking about, those women?"

  He turned her, his fingers aching to bring her closer. The beat was hard, rhythmic. He finally said, "The ones men call ‘Sweetheart.' It's in your eyes."

  The tempo rose and Alice shook her hips in time to the music. Her moves made his body feel weak, but hot. Her open gaze seemed inviting. "What did you say? What's in my eyes?"

  This dance was torture. As her mouth moved, his lips ached to taste her one more time. He swallowed. "How sweet and kind you are and that you have a heart."

  He spun her around and took that second to get himself under control. Goose bumps dotted his skin, and his flesh was hypersensitive. No words came out of his mouth as she twirled back into his arms. He had dated plenty of women—none of them had affected him like this. Alice was his home. The thought hit him hard. It held him in his place.

  The need in his fingers to keep her locked in his arms grew. No more kissing her was allowed for him. As she moved, she came back and rubbed her chin. "I'm trying to figure you out. One minute you kiss me. The next minute you're stiff and not smiling. Does the FBI rip that out of its agents or something?" She tapped his chest.

  This conversation was like a merry-go-round and made him dizzy. With the music, it was hard to follow a train of thought. If she was anyone else, he'd be different, but she shattered his reserve. It took a second to catch that she was referring to his heart. She brushed his face with her fingers as he said, "The FBI leaves me cold."

  Her body pressed against him. "You're far from that."

  "You don't know that." He'd be ruthless, but near Alice, he lost that part of himself.

  Her hips swayed, brushing his groin. Every part of him was primitive and wanted to throw her over his shoulder and take her upstairs to his room. Instead he said, "I don't want to talk about work."

  "Then let's talk about us."

  "Us?" Absolutely not. There was no us or we in this lifetime. His hands trailed up her perfect back, which only sent more heat throughout his body. "You are a more interesting topic. Funny too."

  "What's funny?" Her face ticked like he said the wrong thing.

  The music was in such a rush now that no matter how loud they spoke, it was difficult to hear.

  He grimaced. "Nothing. We can't."

  Her frown told him he disappointed her, though for the moment she said nothing.

  The music picked up into a frenzy as he led her around in a circle. He pressed his lips together as she asked, "What's holding you back?"

  The song ended with a high note. She was perfect, and his lips tingled to kiss her again. Instead he led her off the dance floor, as he'd not torture himself again. The date had to end soon. Night was coming in like a blanket that made him forget. His body couldn't handle being that close. She took his hand, and adrenaline surged through him. Brakes would help about now. "My family."

  He led her to stand between a wall and the dance floor. Her face lost its brightness as she said, "Your sister liked me."

  He liked her. He glanced at their table. The food wasn't nearly so tempting. Part of him hoped to get over his issues and just take her, but he leaned against the wall. "The House of Morgan is unforgettable."

  "Perhaps it's your father that holds you still." She stayed in his arms as he massaged her shoulders. So close, he could kiss her again. He leaned in and her lips were inches from his, but then she turned her head. Her eyes misted, like she was upset at him. "Let's change topics. Why did you join the FBI?"

  Clearly he was the one with the issue. Every pulse in his body demanded he take her and never let go. He stared into her blue eyes and saw a spark. It might be fear, but it might be desire. Perhaps she should fear him, but his pulse near her was off the chart. He shook his head and tried to get a grip. "To find out the depths my father would go. I know he had something to do with Vicki's death."

  Her face flinched. "Would he kill his own daughter?"

  "If I stood in the way of something, he'd discard me. I'd assume he'd do that to her too."

  "Yet you joined the FBI to hunt down his friends and still he didn't cut you out. Despite how miserable I remember Vicki being with your dad, I have a hard time believing he'd have killed his only daughter."

  She stroked his forearm, offering comfort. "Don't think about him."

  Then she reached out and hugged him. Her body pressed against his, and his hands shook as he restrained himself from holding her too tight. "Deal."

  Alice nodded, and pulled out of their hug. "Vicki was distant and unseen for months before she died. I thought we were going to college together, but she never showed up."

  He tilted his head and took another long look at Alice's beauty. This was a conversation he could have. Her skin had a glow to it that made her stand out. It might be because she seemed to truly care. "She never confided in you why she disappeared?"

  Her eyes widened. "No. Did you ever find out why she left?"

  He shook his head and squeezed her hand, taking her to the table and their dinner which had just arrived "No. I hoped you did."

  John held her chair as she sat and then pushed her in. "Where did you go after the funeral?"

  "I was getting my master's at Stanford the day she died." He took the seat opposite Alice. His father had assumed he was into science, so when he'd moved to DC and walked away from everything, Mitch had hardly noticed. "Right after the funeral, I joined the FBI academy. My father was so angry he said he'd disown me."

  Both of her hands now held his across the table. "But he didn't."

  Alice was easy to talk to. He hadn't had anyone in his corner for as long as he remembered. "No. He kept the monthly money piling into my accounts, but now I have no idea what will happen. I guess I'll find out at the will."

  She shrugged. "Maybe Peter disagreed with your dad."

  Holding Alice's hand made the entire day worth living. He took his hand back and gazed into her clear and lovely face. Then he poured them both a glass of wine. "I don't know. Peter was the oldest and he was the most distant. Out of all of us, he remembered our mother the most, and I think I was jealous that he had memories."

  She took the glass as she squeezed his shoulder. "You don't?"

  This wasn't to make her feel bad for him. He shook his head. "Fragmented pictures go through my mind, but nothing concrete."

  She brushed her hand against his again, and the warmth in his body shot through his veins. "I don't know how that feels. Vicki always said your mom left you all the day she was born, but if you have memories, that has to be hard. I'm so sorry."

  This conversation could only be had with her. No one else would ever understand. He withdrew his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

  The server interrupted and asked, "Do you need anything else?"

  "No, thanks." John said without one glance away from her.

  "I'm glad we're honest with each other." As soon as they were alone, again, she smiled and her face glowed. She could be related to angels, if those things existed. "'Cause you can trust me. It's okay. John, I told you my darkest secret."

  "I wish I'd known about your crush back then."

  She sipped her wine. His mouth watered and he wished he was the wine. He needed to stop this fantasy about Alice. She had no idea.

  They finished their dinner.

  She shook her head. "I was a tomboy and your sister's friend."

  No, that wasn't why he hadn't noticed her before. If he had, it would be less of a nuclear explosion inside him now. She drank her wine. He scooted closer. "You turned out to be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

  What had he said? Her entire body seemed to tell him to take her. Every cell in him reacted to her. He stared at her mouth and remembered she tasted better than fruit. She tasted liked Heaven.

  She opened her eyes and then offered a smile. With a wink, she said, "That's it. We're getting married." />
  His entire body stilled. "What?"

  She laughed. Perhaps she could be flirty and fun. "I'm joking, slightly. I don't know how much more flirting I can do. John. We're both adults now. We should go upstairs."

  It wasn't a joke. The picture of a simple life with Alice at the door as she waited for him flashed in his mind. If he married Alice, then he'd have her in his life forever. No one would be hurt if he kept her.

  It was something to think about. He took her hand and led her inside the hotel. "Then I'll ensure you get back to your room, alone."

  She winced, hurt. "Okay." She shrugged. "Thank you for tonight."

  He walked her toward the elevator, but kept her hand in his. Her eyes widened but she didn't ask. Her soft skin kept him grounded and warm. He hit the button to call the elevator. "At the funeral tomorrow, I'll be distant. The press will be there. Please don't be offended."

  "So you don't want people on television to see me with you?"

  "It's for your own protection. You should be safe, away from Peter and Jennifer and their narrow worldview."

  The elevator opened, and they both went inside. She pressed 12 as he hit 13. Part of him wanted to go to her room and rip that dress off her body.

  He gripped the elevator door to stop himself. She asked, "Why?"

  The doors closed and they were alone. He wouldn't kiss her again. He swallowed. "I'm attracted to you and that's something my brother and the world doesn't need to see."

  She rubbed her arms and met his gaze. Her eyes held a glimmer of a question that she kept unspoken. Should he lean her backwards in the elevator and kiss her hard? Right now, no. He intended forever, and forever doesn't start with seduction. A potential wife was different than a random hookup. He stood straighter. She was steady and he needed strength.

  "You really don't trust him, do you?"

  What had he said? Something about his brother. His mind caught up to the conversation, though his mouth still ached to kiss her. "I don't know. He might be fine, but in the House of Morgan signs of affection can be used as a weapon. You're too sweet."

  Without another thought he captured her lips in a kiss. The overwhelming sense that he belonged with her shot through him like a lightning bolt. Her hands wrapped around his neck as he held her waist. He pulled back for a breath of air as the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

  For a moment, neither of them moved or said anything. The elevator dinged a second time and his hand went out to stop the doors from closing. She swallowed and then said, "Okay. Good night."

  She moved like an angel. She walked off the elevator, but then he held the door and asked her sexy backside, "Coffee afterwards?"

  The words had just flown out of his mouth. She turned around and offered him a smile. "Where?"

  He reached for his phone, and hoped his hands didn't show sweat. He swallowed back his nerves. "I'll text you, if you give me your number."

  A laugh formed on her face, though neither made a sound. "Smooth, John."

  She took his phone and typed her number. Then she handed it back to him. Strawberries scented the air. The taste of Alice was even sweeter. She took a step back from the elevator. "Good night."

  "I'll see you at the funeral."

  He lost all sense of what to say near her. Alice was incredible. If he could bottle her and keep her in his life, he'd be happier than he'd been in years.

  He walked into his room and stared at Alice's number one more time. Smiling, he knew he'd find her again, but he refused to spend the evening like a lost puppy dog as he gazed at her name. He closed out the phone application and checked his email. The second one caught his attention.

  John Morgan,

  You are the reason my family is dead. Now that I know your name, nothing can stop me from taking away everything you ever loved, starting with the brunette.

  Someone had seen him and Alice together. His entire body froze, but training took over. John's feet pressed into the floor as he listened to his heartbeat slow. First he forwarded the message to his ex-boss at the FBI and then clenched his hands. He might have quit, but this was likely job-related.

  The pain in his chest felt like a heart attack. All that mattered now was ensuring that Alice was safe.

  The FBI was the best plan. With the Morgan fortune, he could hire whatever security he needed. Rejoining his father's world meant he had to face his choices, but in no way would anyone hurt Alice. He swallowed and coldness entered his body. He'd never go out with Alice Collins, ever again, if that kept her safe.

  The threat mentioned her specifically. He'd have to protect her. No one would ever hurt her. He grabbed his bag and headed to the door. Tonight he slept in the hall.

  Chapter 7

  Last night had ended too innocently to be the ultimate fantasy. All she had was the promise of another date and a few spine-tingling kisses. It was more than she'd had previously, but her skin felt icky, like she missed something. A frown didn't budge from her lips, and the bright sun from the window did nothing for her, except wake her up.

  The coffee in her room helped as she checked her cotton granny panties and prayed the line wasn't that noticeable. The clock read later than she intended, so she walked out the door. No morning conversation with her mom was also perfect as her phone was still off, and she kept it that way. At the hotel, they let her sit inside until the valet had her SUV, and then bellboys packed her one bag in the back.

  The cloudless blue of the morning sky lifted her spirits. She poked her tongue into her cheek as she drove. Another date with John might seal the deal. A funeral should have cooled her libido, and John was the man's son. She tapped the steering wheel to the beat of the radio.

  As she turned her SUV into the church parking lot, bright lights from the streets blinded her. She'd passed so many video cameras that her eyes were dazed. She killed the ignition, a frown on her face. She'd never live like this.

  It was still morning and the coffee hadn't kicked in. She ran her hands through her short hair, and kept her head down to avoid the flashes of a mob from the gate she had just passed. She sighed. Nothing good happened at funerals.

  John would be in the procession later and he'd warned her that he wouldn't spend time with her today, not until after this was over. She made her way to the front door, though she realized she was early.

  The glass doors closed behind her leaving her in a white hallway. A flutter grew in her stomach. Alice turned right and swore she saw a blonde woman who looked like Victoria float into an adjoining room. Alice blinked, knowing that was impossible.

  Denied sex never brought people back to life. Alice rubbed her eyes.

  The church was warm. Hopefully, when people arrived, they would blast the air conditioning. She swallowed and felt overheated as she entered the main room.

  A few mourners sat in the light brown pews but the place was still pretty empty. Mitch Morgan's casket had so many flower baskets around it he appeared like a king as he lay in state at the front of the room.

  This was why John had been in no mood for her last night. If the situation were reversed, she'd be a total mess too. Alice hugged her stomach and chose instead to go wait in the greeting area for more people. With the scattered amount of guests who milled in the halls, she'd blend better.

  If she missed seeing John this morning, she'd be fine. Coffee afterward would make up for everything else. With that thought, she turned on her phone. There were a dozen voice mails from her mother. She pursed her lips, flicked it back off, and returned to the bright hall.

  Though the sun was shining brightly, her arms had goose bumps. It felt like someone was staring at her. She turned around completely, but saw no one.

  Whatever it was felt familiar, not frightening.

  Perhaps Mitch had more children than the three he raised, and John would meet half-brothers and -sisters at his funeral. Not that she wished that on him, but her gut said something was about to happen.

  Noise outside caught her attention. She folde
d her arms in front of her black dress as a large group of people walked in. The lights flashed brighter than fireworks on the Fourth of July, so Peter and John must have arrived.

  The explosion in her heart begged to lock eyes with John. Alice didn't see him, but the surge of hope never wavered.

  Alice blinked at Jennifer in a magnificent black gown that could double as a dress for the Academy Awards. Her long black hair, dark eyes, and pale skin made her the star that she was. Mortals did not look like Jennifer Gonzales.

  Other people passed by, but she never saw John. The lights were too bright. As shoulders passed in front of her, goosebumps rose on her arms. Then her stare froze as she gazed at the outline of her fairy-tale prince. John's light blondish-brown hair, blue eyes, and dimples blew every other man out of the water.

  Her lips tingled as she remembered their kiss. She averted her gaze and blended into the crowd that walked into the chapel for the ceremonies.

  Peter Morgan suddenly appeared at her side. She gazed up at John's brother. Her mind didn't register anything at first, but then Peter's words acted like a knife to the bread that was her brain. "Consider our contracts canceled at the end of the term."

  Alice's mouth dropped open. Her father's retirement depended on that contract. Her fingers felt like ice, and her skin grew cold. "What?"

  Peter continued past her in the rush and took Jennifer's hand. He acted as if he hadn't just destroyed her.

  Jennifer, obviously in on the plan, added, "You were never important, Alice. No one knows why you're here."

  Alice's stomach twisted. Sharp pains poked through her skin.

  The pair of them walked away in the throng of people.

  Alice blinked and could do nothing but stare. She'd come here to pay her respects to the House of Morgan and keep her family safe. Instead, she'd lost her family's contract to sell their produce in supermarkets around the country.

  Her parents were retiring and needed the income. Her father was recovering from a heart attack. Her brother was leaving the Marines to raise his daughter. The weight of responsibility rested on her shoulders, and her very independence depended on her business skills. This wasn't possible.