Читать книгу Romance In Paradise - Sarah Mayberry, Avril Tremayne - Страница 12

FOUR

Morgan had deliberately not thought about his kiss all day. Well, she’d tried not to think of his kiss... Okay, truth: she hadn’t thought of much besides his kiss!

To put it another way, she’d done little more than stare out of the window for the whole afternoon.

She was glad to be home, glad to be in her apartment where she could drop all manner of pretence and admit that Noah’s lips on hers had rocked her to her core. She staggered over to her plump red and white striped couch, dropped her bag to the floor and sank down into its welcoming softness.

She’d kissed Noah Fraser.

Inside her body, every single cell she possessed was in revolt. A picture of the little molecules on a protest march flashed in her head...grumpy little cells each carrying placards with various sayings like: Do Him!, We Want Orgasm Reform!, or simply, Sex! Now!

She couldn’t argue.

Her body craved Noah, and she wished she could use the excuse that she’d had none for a while...but she had, surprisingly, not so long ago. It hadn’t been ‘rock my world’ sex, but it had been nice, pleasant, fulfilling and, best of all, very, very discreet.

With her high profile she valued discretion. She just hadn’t realised that in that case discreet had been a synonym for married. She’d been surprised and shocked when—at the last minute, admittedly—she’d decided to attend a cocktail party she’d said she wouldn’t be at. He’d been there with his very beautiful, very thin Venezuelan wife and they’d both known that her tipping a glass of red wine into his lap, accidentally on purpose, had been a poor substitute for her slapping him into next year.

Morgan placed her thumb on one eye and her index finger on the other and pushed.

She had kissed Noah Fraser. Again.

Actually, kissed was totally the wrong word... She’d inhaled him, Frenched him...devoured him. She could still feel his long fingers searing through her pants, the rasp of his two-day beard, the silkiness of his hair as she pulled it through her fingers.

He kissed liked a dream, like a man should kiss: with authority, skill, strength and tenderness. If he made love like he kissed... Morgan whimpered as she felt the pool of heat and lust drop to her womb. She was minutes off an orgasm and that was from just the memories of his kiss!

What if he touched her breasts, slid his fingers...? She didn’t know if she was strong enough to survive the experience.

It took her a moment to realise that someone was pounding on her door and she wrinkled her nose. James frequently came by when he was in town and hung out, mostly to avoid their mother nagging him into attending an event. James was as allergic to the social swirl as she was... Was she a bad sister if she pretended not to be here?

She didn’t want to talk to anybody. She just wanted to relive Noah’s lips on hers, his scent in her nose, the hard muscles she’d felt in his shoulders.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bats...

‘Who is it?’ she demanded in a croaky voice as she pushed herself to her feet.

‘Noah.’

The only person she wanted to see and the last person she’d expected. Morgan yanked the door open and there he stood, jacket and tieless, his fist about to connect with the door again.

Morgan put out one finger and pushed his clenched fist down. ‘You pounded?’

Noah placed his hands on her hips and without a word pushed her backwards and kicked the door shut behind him.

‘Oh, well, just come on in,’ Morgan said, trying for sarcastic and hitting breathless.

Noah dropped his hands from her hips and slapped them on his. ‘I’ve been thinking...’

‘Did you hurt yourself?’ Morgan asked sweetly.

He ignored her. ‘On a scale of one to ten, what are the chances of you being in charge of this ball?’

‘About...hmm...minus one thousand and fifty-two.’

‘Thank God.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I don’t sleep with my clients. Or my colleagues. Ever.’

‘You nearly beat down my door to tell me that?’

‘Try and keep up, Moreau. I don’t sleep with clients.’

Morgan, starting to catch a clue, felt her heart-rate accelerate. ‘And since I’m not going to be organising the ball I won’t be your client,’ she said slowly as she wrapped her head around the implications of those words.

‘There you go.’ Noah nodded ‘I walked away years ago...’

‘I know. I was there.’

That was a conversation for another day, and right now she didn’t give a foo-foo. She wanted to know if he was here for the same reason she wanted him here. So that they could take that hot kiss they’d shared in the lift to its logical conclusion. And if he was toying with her again she’d have MI Security toss his gorgeous body off the roof.

Noah’s eyes glinted blue fire. ‘I don’t want to spend the next eight years wondering...’

Morgan forced the lust away in order to think. It was hard, but she had to do it. ‘You’re leaving tomorrow to go back to London?’

‘More than likely. There’s nothing more I need to do here workwise...at this time.’

‘So you are here for one night...one incredible, exceptional, crazy night.’ she said, enunciating each word. ‘Are we on the same page, here?’

Noah pushed a hand through his messy hair. She could tell it wasn’t the first time he’d done that this evening. ‘Yeah. Deal?’

Phew! She was going to get lucky! All her little cell protestors threw down their placards, lay down and assumed the ‘do me’ position. Morgan considered doing the same.

‘What do you say, Morgan?’

Yes! Stop talking and take me now, yes! ‘Okay, yes, that’s a deal.’ Morgan started to lift her shirt. She wanted to get naked—now.

‘Stop. Don’t,’ Noah said, his voice low and urgent.

Morgan looked at him, fear and fury flashing in her eyes.

Noah took two steps to reach her and clasped her face in his hands. ‘Relax, Morgan, I just want to undress you myself. Inch by gorgeous inch.’

‘Oh.’ Morgan’s hands fell to her sides. ‘Okay.’ She tipped her head back and up, so that she could look into his eyes. ‘You think I’m gorgeous?’

‘Very—and stop fishing for compliments, Duchess. Try kissing me instead.’

The warmth in his eyes was at odds with his teasing words and Morgan felt her lips tip up in response.

Noah dropped a kiss on her nose before swooping down and covering her mouth with his, his tongue sliding against hers, long and smooth. ‘You sure you want to do this, Morgan?’ he muttered as his hand palmed her butt.

‘Still sure.’ Morgan angled her head away so that he could taste her neck, that sensitive spot just under her ear. His broad hand covered her breast and shivers skittered over her skin. Her fingers went to his shirt buttons and soon her hands were on warm male flesh, hot muscle and sexy skin. Her fingers danced over a very impressive six-pack and over the V of hip muscle that descended into his pants.

Noah groaned in the back of his throat as he slowly pulled her T-shirt up her torso, his eyes darkening at the white scraps of lace that covered her full breasts. He pulled her shirt up and over her head and dropped it to the floor, before running a finger along the edge of the lace. ‘Pretty.’

Morgan sucked in her breath as his finger touched her hard nipple.

He hooked his hand under the lace and revealed her breast to his sizzling gaze. ‘Very pretty indeed.’

His hot mouth covered her as he flipped open her bra and pulled it down her arms. Groaning, he banded his arms around her and, kissing her mouth, walked her backwards to the plump couch, lowering her to the striped fabric when the seat hit the back of her knees. Noah knelt down in front of her and picked up her booted foot, glowering at the knee-high laced boots.

Noah cursed. ‘This is going to take far too long.’

‘Not so much.’ Morgan grinned, reached around to the back of her calf and pulled a zip down the boots. ‘Hidden zip.’

‘Brilliant.’ Noah pulled her boots off impatiently, yanked her pants down her legs, and Morgan giggled when he tossed them over his shoulder. He sat back on his haunches, still dressed only in his suit pants, and looked at her, naked but for a little scrap of lace at the juncture of her thighs. She’d thought she would feel self-conscious, shy, uncomfortable, but how could she feel anything other than sexy and powerful when such a hard-bodied, lusciously masculine man looked at her with pure approval on his rugged face?

Then Morgan saw momentary hesitation in his face, knew that his big brain was trying to crash their party. She was not going to be denied this again... If she had to tie him down—ooh, that sounded like fun—she was going to have this man on top of her, around her, inside her.

She leaned forward and placed her hands on his bare shoulders. ‘Stop thinking. I want this. So do you. Tomorrow is another day with another set of rules. Tonight there is just us...no work, no history, no flaws. Just two people who want each other. Okay?’

‘Yeah.’

Noah nodded and Morgan released her tension in a long sigh as one hand came up to cover her breast, his thumb idly brushing her peaked nipple.

‘I have a question,’ Noah said reverentially, his eyes on her panties.

Morgan wished he’d shut up and get on with what was important—i.e. giving her a mind-blowing orgasm—but she made herself speak. ‘Okay...what?’

‘Do you still have a Brazilian?’

‘Well, soldier, why don’t you take a peek?’

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Their heads flew up and turned in unison. Both looked at the door in utter disbelief.

Noah, his hand in her panties, lifted his eyebrows. ‘Expecting someone?’

‘Uh—no.’ And she wanted them to go away, while she and Noah got back to what they were doing...which was him doing her.

And doing her rather well.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

‘Morgs, you’ve got thirty seconds, then I’m using my key.’

‘James!’ Morgan looked horrified as she pushed Noah away. ‘Clothes—where are my clothes?’

‘Scattered,’ Noah said as he stood up. ‘Get dressed and I’ll delay him.’

‘Open the door, Morgan!’ James yelled. ‘And who is with you?’

‘We’re coming!’ Morgan yelled back.

‘Not in the way we’d hoped,’ Noah stated as he reached for his shirt.

‘Shut up!’ Morgan growled, wiggling into her pants. ‘Pass me my bra.’

Noah scooped up her bra, threw it towards her and tucked his shirt into his pants. When she was dressed, he gestured towards the kitchen.

‘Got anything alcoholic?’ he asked.

Morgan nodded towards an antique drinks cabinet in the corner and flipped open the bolt to her front door.

‘James,’ she drawled, ‘have you ever heard of the concept of calling before you arrive? It’s called etiquette. I’m sure Mum tried to teach us some.’

Morgan turned away and walked towards Noah who, being a good Scot, had found her expensive bottle of whisky and was pouring a healthy amount into three glasses.

‘Morgan.’

Something in her brother’s voice had all the hairs lifting on the back of her neck and arms. She turned around slowly and really looked at her brother. His face was bone-white and there were deep grooves in the lines running down next to his mouth. His eyes, green like hers, were flat and hard in his face.

‘What’s wrong?’ she demanded. ‘Is it Mum?’

James lifted up his hands. ‘She’s okay...really she is, Morgs, but something’s happened.’

Morgan sensed Noah’s approach and instinctively turned to look at him. He was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and paused briefly, lifting an eyebrow in James’s direction.

‘What are you doing here anyway, Fraser?’ James scowled.

Morgan figured that James really wouldn’t want the answer to that question. Besides, he was a big boy—he could figure it out himself. Instead she gripped the back of one of the kitchen stools and tried to find her voice. ‘Mum? What’s happened, Jay?’

James gave Noah another tough look before running his hands over his face. ‘Mum had an...incident earlier tonight.’

‘Define “incident”,’ Noah said, and all traces of her earlier lover dissipated with those two words. He was in work mode, professional to the core. Serious, smart, and very, very dangerous.

‘Jackson was walking Mum through the parking lot of Luigi’s—she was meeting Dad for supper—when they were jumped by three guys.’

‘Who is Jackson?’ Noah grabbed a glass and handed it to Morgan. ‘Drink.’

‘My mum’s long-time bodyguard and driver,’ Morgan answered, grateful for something to do with her shaking hand.

Noah passed a whisky to James and gestured for him to carry on.

‘Luckily Dad and Henry—Dad’s bodyguard—were in the parking lot at the same time and saw what happened. Jackson and Henry reacted quickly—’ James released a huff of frustration and sipped his whisky. ‘The bodyguards got into it with the kidnappers while Dad picked Mum up—she’d been tossed to the ground in the fight—and bundled her into the car.’

‘But not hurt, right?’

‘Grazed chin and knees, sprained wrist,’ James replied, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

‘It’s okay, Morgan.’ Noah reached over and squeezed her shoulder. ‘She’s fine. What then?’

‘Our guys—especially Henry—are pretty tough, and they managed to subdue two of them. The other got away.’ James banged his glass onto the granite counter and splashed whisky. ‘Before the police arrived they told them that they were part of a group who were looking to exact retribution for the fact that MI are in the process of reopening an emerald mine in a remote area of north-east Colombia.’

‘Why don’t they want it reopened?’ Morgan asked.

‘The mining, trucks and security will interfere with the local drug cartel’s transport routes, and with increased population will make the inhabitants less...reliant on the generosity of the drug lords. I also suspect they are mining illegally as well,’ James replied. ‘They said that there are orders out to get MI out of the region.’

‘Really blethered on, didn’t they?’ Noah said, his voice bland.

‘Sang like canaries,’ James replied. ‘Probably because they had a knee in a kidney or a wrist about to be broken.’ James folded his arms and rested his bottom against the counter in front of the coffee machine. ‘The bottom line is that they want MI out of Colombia and they will do it by...’

Morgan saw his hesitation, the way he looked at her. ‘By...?’

‘By trying to kidnap someone else. You, me, other executives. I have told the executives in Colombia to be on high alert, and we’re doubling their security—and the mine’s. But you and I are definite targets. I want protection for you.’

Not again, Morgan thought. She hated having someone follow her around, monitoring her movements...constantly hovering.

‘I’ve called CFT. They will have someone here in two hours. So if you could just stay put until they get here?’

‘And Mum? How are we going protect her?’ Morgan asked.

‘Dad is taking her to the house in the Cayman Islands. You know how secure it is out there.’

‘Good. That’s good.’

James sent her a direct look. ‘Any chance of you joining her there?’

Was he insane? She had jewellery commissions to complete and deliver and—damn it!—with her mother gone someone had to organise the ball. Her mum couldn’t do that from the Cayman Islands or anywhere else. She needed to be here—in the city. So who was left to do it? Me... Damn!

‘I’ll take the protection, if you think I must, but I’m staying put.’

James blew air into his cheeks. ‘CFT personal protection agents will be here soon. Will you accommodate them?’

What choice did she have? It was at times like these when the reality of how different her life was from that of a normal woman her age became very clear. This was when the fact that she was a Moreau—part of a prominent, hugely wealthy family whose business interests could upset people even a continent away—really smacked her in the face.

That wasn’t normal. None of this was normal.

‘That’s not going to happen.’

Noah made sure that his voice was low, cool and utterly non-negotiable. In unison, James and Morgan turned to him, both pairs of bottle-green eyes surprised and suspicious.

James’s eyes hardened a fraction of a second before Morgan’s did. He could see that neither of them appreciated him jumping into the conversation but he didn’t care. He just folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his own eyes.

‘I’m not remotely interested in your opinion,’ James told him. ‘I’m making arrangements for my sister’s protection.’

‘So unmake them,’ Noah suggested calmly. ‘I will act as her personal protection detail.’

‘What?’

The siblings’ faces registered surprised confusion—and, really, could he blame them? They’d both forgotten that close body protection was what he did, was his business. And wasn’t he here for the express purpose of getting his company more MI business? That whole world domination thing?

That was a good reason why he wanted to be the one to protect Morgan, but there were others. Since leaving the unit he’d done lots of close protection before moving into training the new officers. He knew how up close and personal bodyguards had to get to their principals, and there was no way that he was going to allow any CFT hound-dogs that close to Morgan. Fact: the only person that was getting into her personal space in the near future was him.

And, lastly, he wanted the best for Morgan. And he was it. There was a reason why Amanda had offered to double his already stratospheric salary if he stayed with CFT. He was that valuable, that good. Morgan deserved the best, and that was him.

Fact.

‘I’m here. I’m already working for you.’

‘I didn’t realise that sleeping with my sister was part of your duties,’ James said, in a very cool, very dangerous voice.

Noah didn’t react. Mostly because he felt like punching James on his perfect nose... He didn’t like being caught on the back foot, but he had to respect James for calling him on it. If he had a sister he’d do the same. ‘Technically, I’m not employed by MI yet—’

‘And the chances of you ever getting on the payroll are decreasing rapidly,’ James stated.

Damage control, Noah thought, and fast. ‘I’m good at what I do, Moreau, and what happened or didn’t happen here earlier has nothing to do with that. Morgan and I are both consenting adults and we have an understanding.’

James looked at Morgan. ‘Which is...?’

Noah remained silent. Hey, this was her brother—if she wanted to explain, she could.

‘Well?’

‘This has nothing to do with you, big bro,’ Morgan stated, lifting her chin.

‘You’re my baby sister!’

‘But I’m not a baby! I can have sex if I want!’

Both James and Noah winced. Noah scratched his forehead and was grateful that his brothers didn’t require him to monitor their social life, because this was the social equivalent of a kick to the groin.

Time to end this conversation, he thought.

‘Moving on,’ he said briskly, ‘and back to the subject at hand. Call Amanda Cope from CFT and ask her who her best bodyguard was—ever. I guarantee she’ll say me. She hates me, but she’s inherently honest. You want and need the best person out there guarding your sister. I’m it and I’m already in place.’ It wouldn’t hurt to sweeten the pot. ‘I’ll also give you a fifteen per cent discount on my personal protection fees because I’m doing an analysis on the security for your ball.’

‘I don’t want you as my bodyguard,’ Morgan said.

‘Tough,’ Noah shot back.

James ignored her and held Noah’s stare for thirty seconds before pulling his mobile out of his pocket and scrolling through his contacts. He was actually going to call Amanda! This could go badly wrong, Noah thought as James greeted her.

Morgan gripped his wrist and her nails dug into his skin. Even though they were sharp, he still felt heat and lust and attraction rocket up his arm. If he got this right, then acting as her bodyguard was going to be a casual stroll through hell....with a hard-on.

‘Noah! Listen to me. I don’t want this...you!’ Morgan hissed.

Noah gently pulled her fingers off him and held her hand in his. ‘Shh, I’m trying to listen.’

‘I’m going to kill you,’ Morgan threatened.

‘Later...’

James was speaking. ‘I don’t need to know why he left, or what you think Auterlochie are doing wrong in the market place, Amanda; this has nothing to do with the rest of your guards or my personal security detail. It’s one guy, looking after my sister. I just need to know whether he’s good or not.’

When James’s frown lifted from a trench to a furrow Noah knew that she had been her customary honest self.

‘The best agent you ever had? Well, then...’ James disconnected and slapped his mobile into the palm of his hand. He glared at Noah. ‘Fifteen per cent discount on both jobs because you started off by annoying me.’

Ouch.

‘Deal,’ Noah agreed.

‘And keep your hands off my sister,’ James growled.

‘Basic bodyguarding,’ Noah agreed, and he knew that James wasn’t sure whether he was messing with him or not. James still looked like a thundercloud so he looked him in the eye. ‘I will be completely professional when it comes to Morgan, James. You have my word.’

Besides, her safety depended on it... He couldn’t look out for danger if he was eyeing her rack. Or her butt. Or imagining those legs around his hips...

And, although it was a lot less easy to admit, he was grateful for the order to keep his hands off Morgan. She was the type of woman he normally avoided. One of the few women who had caught his interest on more than a physical level. She intrigued him—mentally, emotionally. There was more to her than being the Moreau heiress, the reluctant NYC socialite. And that scared the hell out of him. Besides, he was consumed by his business. He didn’t have the time or the energy to give to a woman.

James’s shoulders dropped as the tension seeped out of him. Noah knew that James considered his and Morgan’s relationship now to be defined, bound by the two contracts he would sign with MI. But to Noah it was written in blood—because he’d given James his word. No agreement written on paper trumped that.

Noah held out his hand and James reluctantly took it. ‘Anything happens to Morgan you’re a dead man,’ James told him.

‘Anything happens to Morgan I will be a dead man—because that’s the only way they’ll get to her.’

James’s face lightened with appreciation and Noah thought that he might, maybe, be back on relatively solid ground with the brother and boss.

‘Do either of you care what I want or think?’ Morgan demanded, her hands on her hips.

Noah shook his head and looked at James. ‘Uh...no.’

Noah ducked the glass that she sent flying towards his head and winced when the crystal shattered on the expensive tiles. Maybe he should curb the off-the-cuff honest answers. Good thing she had the aim of a one-eyed toddler or that might have hurt.

And, more importantly, it was a waste of a very fine dram.