Secret Bet
Author: Victoria Pinder
Date: 2017-08-15 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Contemporary Romance; Romance; Contemporary
Description: Heir to a billion-dollar fortune, Peter Morgan yields a power few can deny, but behind the strong, confidant façade lies a broken man. For years he’s grappled with feelings of abandonment and pain. He’s always believed his dead father was to blame for his mother’s abandonment and now struggles to trust women. But, despite his mistrust, his ego is still large enough to bet against them. When he hatches a bet with his brother, the last thing he expects is for that bet to change his life and his heart. Jilted at the altar, Belle Jordan wants to move past the hurt and forgive the man she lost. She
Publisher: Love in a Book

Table of Contents

Secret Bet (The House of Morgan)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Secret Bet

The House of Morgan

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Victoria Pinder

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Secret Bet

Copyright©2016

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemble to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

Your support of author’s rights is appreciated.

Published in the United States of America.

Copyright © 2016 Victoria Pinder Love in a Book

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 978-1539534419

ISBN: 1539534413 (Love in a Book)

DEDICATION

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This book is dedicated to my friend and amazing author, Kristin Wallace. If you’ve not read her books, she’s great. She always makes me think ‘how would you act out the scene and get into the character’s heads.’ Her advice always makes me grow as a writer.

Chapter One

"Belle Jordan?" A young man's voice echoed with a crack in it.

Belle stood from her desk by the window, which overlooked the Capitol Building as the door opened. Perhaps it was orders from her old military base or she was still in this habit, but she straightened her spine. "Yeah, who's this?"

Again a boy's voice squeaked. "I'm from FTL. I have a letter to deliver."

Civilians didn't stand at attention for delivery people. She forced herself to sit and fixed her long, brown braid behind her head. "Come in."

A boy, no more than eighteen years old in a bright yellow shirt appeared. The tension in her spine dissipated as the messenger held out a package and an electronic box. "I need you to sign here."

She scribbled her name and then stared at the letter. It was white, and the calligraphy was tasteful. The date December 23rd echoed in her brain. Someone knew she worked late. It might be some new lobbyist business party that doubled as training for the just-out-of-the-military group she was hired with. It was not like she had anymore friends who would send her new wedding invitations. She shook the letter. It certainly looked like an invitation.

She glanced at her desk and pushed the contract with the US Marines and Century Arms to the side as she opened the white linen envelope. A moment later, white confetti in the shape of butterflies spilled onto her mahogany desk. She unfolded the crisp linen invitation from wrapping paper and read, Victoria Morgan and Colt Collins cordially invite you to their Christmas Eve wedding in Miami.

Again. This was the second invitation, not that she had responded to the first. Belle covered her lips and sat. She'd never go to this. Her heart beat a mile a minute. Her ex-fiancé and the mother of his child were not exactly her favorite people.

She dropped the invitation but then noticed a second sheet of paper in the envelope. She tucked the paper in to hide it and picked up the contract. She needed to finish and get her work in the mail and over to the Pentagon. She picked up her pen, signed the last of the pages and, and dropped the papers in the 'to be copied' stack for her secretary in the morning.

She had earned another bonus. The night sky still had the whiteness of this morning's snow flurry. The postcards of Washington, DC at Christmas could be snapped from her office, not that she'd ever care.

It was time to go home. She sighed. No one else was still here on the floor. As she stood, she peeked at the second piece of paper that had come with the invitation. She blinked. It was Colt's handwriting.

Her heart had a pang. Her father had loved the idea of her and Colt. So had her stepmother. They had said they finally had a daughter because she intended to get married and wear a white dress.

Clothes did not make her feminine.

She closed her eyes and hoped the zap in her heartbeat stopped. They had never been proud of her, ever, and they certainly weren't now. Her father had said he couldn't wait to dance with his daughter at her wedding. A piece of her hair fell in front of her eyes. As she gazed at the letter, she tucked the wayward strand behind her ear.

Belle,

Please come to the wedding. We were always friends first. You saved my life in the desert and kept me alive. Victoria wants you here too. We both want you to be happy. We included an airplane ticket. Please come.

Colt

She rubbed her throat and then dropped the letter. There was no way she'd go. This was insane. Ex fiancées did not go to the new fiancée's wedding. Victoria and she hardly even knew each other. All she knew about Colt's new bride was that Colt had thought the other woman dead the entire time he had dated her.

She fumbled through her desk and found her pocketbook. At the door, she wrapped herself in her scarf, warm woolen jacket, and thick hat. Four years of dating one guy had left her utterly alone this winter.

She closed her office door, strode through the empty office with gray cubicles, and locked the department front door. She'd return in eight short hours. Christmas Eve was for other people who cared.

On the empty street, the brightest light on the horizon was still the Capitol Building. She wrapped her scarf tighter and quickened her steps to get to her apartment faster. The cold air numbed her nose, but she trekked forward. She'd be home soon.

People's cheers from the local bars she passed were loud with ‘Merry Christmas.' She hugged her waist and rushed. Then her new stepmother's smiling face flashed on her caller ID.

She answered, "Hello?"

"Darling, your father and I are heading out for the holidays on that Mediterranean cruise we told you about earlier this year. He's very sorry to miss you for the holidays again."

"I remember." Of course. Her stepmother had never asked, 'Why don't you drop everything and join us when we book the cruise?' Not that she'd go. She straightened her shoulders. "Have fun with my dad."

Sophie's perky voice echoed through the phone. "What will you do this holiday?"

Find a way to not think about Colt anymore. She would never say that, and instead she rolled her eyes. She was the one who'd paid her father's debts so her stepmother could spend his retirement earnings. "Work. It's what I enjoy."

Her stepmother's voice, which had once soothed her said, "Baby, there is more to life than work. We hoped one day you'd learn to relax and enjoy the small moments."

Clearly they lived on another planet. Belle pressed her lips together. "It's okay, Sophie. Have fun with Dad."

Sophie mumbled something else, but Belle's phone began to ding with multiple text messages. She hung up on her stepmother and read her texts.

‘Saw you pass. Come into Andrew's Pub.'

‘Belle, we want to see you.'

None of the former crew of her favorite Marines were in the service anymore. They all planned to fly out tomorrow, for Colt's wedding.

She gazed up at her dark window. All that waited for her at home was the internet and some movie she picked out.

She pursed her lips. Perhaps one drink with her old crew wouldn't be the end of the world. She'd tell everyone to have a good time.

She clutched her phone in her hand and decided to pop in without a message.

A rock version of "Silent Night" that someone must have attempted during karaoke clung in the air. Someone's feet stomped from the stage as Belle walked past. Then she saw Emily Fletcher, her perky best friend, as she sat with three other former Marines. All four of them had flights in the morning to Miami. All of them were off to wish Colt well.

"Someone order me a Guinness."

Em sucked in her breath. "Belle, we thought you were avoiding us."

Next time she'd start slower, and she'd never again date a guy she needed to fix. She never should have asked Colt out years ago.

She sat on the bar stool and faked a smile. "How could I ignore the texts that offered to buy me a free beer?"

The intake of breath rang in her ears. Then Em said, "Come with us to Miami."

No. Belle lifted her head and waved at the bartender. "I don't do Christmas."

She ordered the drink and turned to her friends. "I'll be fine here."

"You'll be alone."

Another voice piped in from behind Emily's. "Belle, you were both our friends."

James Harrington handed the bartender money as he slipped the beer in front of Belle.

She licked her lips. "We're both still your friends. It's just that he's marrying someone else."

"Belle, we all knew he loved and lost his Victoria," James said. "He called out her name countless times in the sandbox."

Belle's entire body froze. It was true. At night, when Colt slept, he had called out for Victoria. He had never said her name. She had lived with that for years, and had only thought she helped his broken heart.

Perhaps it was time to be an adult. If she wanted to be sure that she could live without Colt, then she should see this through to the end. A plan came to her. The plane ticket for the wedding was in her pocketbook. Miami was warm, sunny, and perhaps with friends nearby, she could be a better person. She chugged her beer.

"You, Em, and the others will have my back if I go with you?"

"Of course." James patted her on the back and took the seat next to her.

She lifted her glass as she sucked in her breath. "Even if I break down into tears and need someone to get me a tissue?"

"You never cry, Belle. You're still a Marine and wouldn't break down like that."

Belle stopped and stared at herself in the mirror behind the bar. Her frizzy brown hair and plain Jane face would make someone like Colt choose someone else. Perhaps her stepmother was right that she was too masculine.

She hid her chin, which trembled with another gulp. She'd never wanted to be a pretty face with nothing in between her ears. She swallowed. "I will try not to cry. I don't hate him, and I don't want anyone who doesn't love me back. I should go to this wedding and make my peace."

"This is last minute. Are you sure?"

She took a deep breath and gulped her beer. "Maybe it will be healthy for me. Cleansing almost, so I can let go."

Now her glass was empty. If she intended to catch the eight in the morning flight, she needed to pack her bags.

Em placed her hand on Belle's shoulder as she stood from her barstool. "What aren't you telling me, Belle?"

"I'm going home to pack. My flight is early."

"You already had a ticket."

"Yeah. I'll see everyone later."

She hugged all her friends and then rushed from the building. A few minutes later, she climbed the steps to her apartment and realized she still didn't have any pictures on the wall.

Anyone who came here would assume she was a drifter or newly out of the Marines. In reality, she just hadn't had the time or motivation to shop.

Home and decorating could wait. She went to her closet and tugged out her folded duffel. Then she froze and stared through the park and back toward the Capitol Building. It illuminated her bedroom, and she didn't need to turn on the lights.

Change needed to happen. She hugged her stomach and shook on her feet. "I loved Colt. He loved Victoria. Please make the pain stop, okay? I don't want to become numb and I feel sad. Why wasn’t I enough? What did I do to make you hate me this much? I always tried to do the right thing, so why punish me?"

Praying wasn’t her thing. Action was and her father always said ‘God helps those who help themselves.’ If she let Colt go, then she’d be open to whatever or whoever was next. Or she’d get a cat from the shelter. She blinked, wiped her eyes, and picked up her bag.

A second later, she grabbed her hairbrush and accessories. Then she went to her nightstand and took her mother's picture, which had been thrown down but was otherwise intact. Belle had never gone anywhere without her mother and wouldn't start now. Finally she went to the closet and picked up her small supply of civilian summer outfits.

Now she was packed. She rifled through the pocketbook but couldn't find that invitation. Somewhere she must have lost it. She shrugged. At least she had the plane ticket. Done, she stormed to the door.

"God, you and I both know that I will never be the bride or girlish, but please help me stay strong. I have to be happy for everyone else."

Dawn peeked through the air. She hadn't slept at all. Perhaps on the plane she'd close her eyes and not have a rush of heart palpitations every few minutes.

She unlocked the front door, and her nerves stood on edge. Nothing stirred outside. She rubbed her temples and told herself she'd be fine.

She'd never be sweet or the kind of the girl that a guy threw everything away for. She straightened her spine. She took care of herself. She was always fine with anything that was thrown in her way. She used a phone app and called a car to pick her up.

As she turned off the lights, she continued her conversation with God. "I'm too closed off to ever truly fall in love. We both know that."

She locked the door behind her and ran down the stairs as fast as she could. Miami was warm, and the wedding invitation for tomorrow meant she'd be too busy to worry about herself or feel sorry that she was no longer the bride. She pocketed her phone. Everything was perfect.

Chapter Two

The Miami skyline outlined the back of Peter Morgan’s mansion as the waters of the Intracoastal Waterway lapped against his yacht. Tonight he wouldn't be able to enjoy his privacy. The tropical breeze brushed against his suit as he locked his front door. Peter Morgan slipped into the backseat of his personal town car, complete with his driver in the front seat.

He checked his phone and work emails. Outside, they passed other neighbors on Starr Island. The white lights that flashed at the bottom of the palm trees next door to his home never indicated Christmas to Peter Morgan. He could have been anywhere in the world right now, and ensured he successfully moved Morgan Enterprises to the top of the next big field, but his family reminded him to stay here.

John Morgan, his brother, chose to live in a more residential area, and his party meant people had more places to park without the valet service.

A few minutes later, Peter Morgan knocked on his brother John’s door and held a gift basket in his hand. No one should ask him what it was, because he had no idea. His secretary had told him, but he forgot. Since his siblings, John and Victoria, had returned to his life, Peter's heart seemed to have begun beating again. He'd do what was best for them.

Vicki opened the door and hugged him. "We're happy you're here."

“Thanks.”

Victoria, his baby sister, was getting married on Christmas Eve. He'd give her away. He swallowed. Vicki practically glowed with happiness. His arms wrapped around her and squeezed.

"I'm glad I made it home early. Beijing was not where I wanted to be, though it was successful. Where's John?"

Their brother's house overlooked Biscayne Bay. The white lights of Christmas stuff hung everywhere, and John had a large Christmas tree flown into his house for the occasion. At least he hadn't done the cheap pink flamingo lawn ornament with the red hats. His Grammy award-winning neighbor next to his own house on Starr Island didn't have the same elegant taste.

Guests were both inside and outside the well-secured mansion. Vicki pointed toward the backyard with more strings of white lights that reflected against the darkened blue waters of the evening bay.

She led him to the bar and said, "Our brother is off scaring Colt in some effort to stop the wedding if he doesn't behave."

His eyebrows shifted up. "Sounds fun. I should go join them."

She shook her head. "Peter, be nice. You're my oldest brother and giving me away in a few days. If you don't agree, I will haunt you for eternity and beyond for ruining my happy-ever-after."

Peter massaged her back. "Vicki, we all actually like Colt. We're saving him from a life with you."

She pinched him, and he laughed. Then he hugged her. Vicki was the best part of their family growing up. Her supposed death had widened the huge hole in his heart that had starting breaking long ago.

Their mother had ditched them practically the day Vicki was about to turn one and John had been two. Peter had spent his childhood protecting Vicki and John from their father and wondering how their mother walked away.

He petted her hair until she swatted his hand away. "Don't go ruining my new style for our rehearsal dinner."

The warmth without the humidity made Miami in December one of the best places to spend winter. The party was full of people who laughed and drank. Most of the people in the room had business dealings and contracts with him. The rest were people who one day would.

He pressed his lips together. "Is Jennifer here?"

Vicki crossed her arms. "Not yet. She is invited. Don't break her and Rafe up because you're lonely, big brother. There is more to life than sex."

The friends-with-benefits relationship he shared with Jennifer for the years his sister supposedly had been dead as Jennifer had reminded him of Vicki. Jennifer never had his sister's good heart, but she had been a link to memories of when his sister had been happy.

A picture of Jennifer formed in his mind. Their break up, at Jennifer's insistence, had been one of the highlights of this year. He shook his head. "I won't, and I'm not lonely."

Vicki shook her head no. John and Colt chose that moment to join them near the patio door. John slapped him on the back and laughed. Then Vicki said, "You live in dad's mausoleum on Starr Island and work in that office of yours far too late."

"I was in Beijing, taking care of business."

His brother and sister clearly had both decided to interfere with his life and intentions for the future. Peter stood straighter. He had forgotten what families were supposed to be like until they had barged back into his life.

He sipped his drink. "And unlike you two, I don't have a fiancée or wife. I get to go home with any single lady I want."

Colt wrapped his arms around Victoria. "Life is better with someone, Peter. A good woman would do wonders for you."

His sister glowed with happiness. Marriage was not in his life plan. His own mother hadn't wanted him anymore, so why would he take in any woman? He'd stockpile as much of the Morgan finances as he could and leave it to his nieces and nephews. A wife would be a weight his heart didn't need. He pressed his lips together and hoped this didn't make him like their father.

Peter shook his head. "There are more than one ‘some ones’ out there."

John crossed his arms, and had the same expression Vicki had a moment ago. "My brother is incapable of dating only one woman for long. We all know that."

Women were all disappointments and they left. Their father had taunted him the day his mother walked out the door as he said, ‘women are playtoys for men like us.' He had seen her walk out the front door from the marble staircase that she had passed on her way out. They had stared at each other on her journey, and even then their mother hadn't stayed to protect them. She hadn't even said goodbye, and her brown eyes still haunted him.

The door chimed. Alice held John's baby as she opened the door. His brother's face warmed from one glance at his wife and son. Alice had been involved in their family all their lives as Vicki's best friend, and she'd had a lifelong crush on John until he had finally been smart enough to marry her. No girl like that existed for Peter, not that he wanted one.

A second later, Alice walked into the front room with Jennifer and Rafe. Alice, radiated happiness, almost like his sister. Neither one of his siblings remembered Mom. That had probably helped them to be open to marriage. Peter's brown eyes glanced at Jennifer as her new/old boyfriend's arm held hers. Rafe was a good officer, an old high school friend of sorts, and Peter respected him.

He turned to John and said, "I am fully capable of dating one woman."

"Woah. I clearly missed something," Colt quickly said. "But I'd put money on that."

Peter's muscles tightened. He straightened his spine and said, "What's the bet?"

John clapped him on his shoulder, again. "You have to date someone we choose for a month."

His eyes widened. "You choose?"

John then stood across from him and met his stare. "It has to be a challenge for you. We don't want you tolerating some girl who sees dollar signs for a month."

"A girl that money doesn't impress doesn't exist." Everyone had a price, even if they didn't know what it was.

Peter imagined some religious girl set to be a nun as the choice in question. He massaged his shaved chin. "Okay, if I agree to this, what do I get?"

John and Colt shared a look with Vicki. His sister held her fiancé's hand as John said, "Ten percent of my small stake in the company. You get even more majority ownership without question on the board."

Colt nodded and added, "I'll throw in something. We'll increase production on my farm by at least twenty-five percent, and you'll get that as part of the already existing contract with no extra clauses."

They were both serious about this. Peter licked his lips. "And if I lose?"

John then glanced at Vicki. "You give ten percent of your ownership to Victoria. Dad screwed her in the will and wasn't giving her money all her life. She has millions instead of billions. You can correct that."

Peter assumed their father had thought Vicki dead, but he might not have. Mitch Morgan had played his family and kept close tabs on all of them until he died. He widened his stance. "The corporations are mine."

"Without question." John took a step forward.

Peter squared his shoulders, ready for battle.

Then Colt said, "Is it a bet?"

His brother's small stake in the company meant no one might question or undermine his orders. He swallowed and stared at Vicki. He'd take care of his sister no matter what. This bet was easy. No woman on earth existed that didn't have certain expectations and a playbook. All he had to do was figure out the woman's desires and then ensure she had everything.

His thoughts made him predatory, as Vicki would say, but it was just how he saw things. He shrugged, like nothing mattered. "Name the girl."

John dropped his arms to his side, "Oh, it's on."

Vicki's head went back and forth between John and Colt. "I will pick someone I'd like for a sister-in-law."

Peter swayed on his feet. "You're in on this too?"

She nodded. "Now I am. Peter, don't turn out like dad. I want you to be happy."

Her blonde hair and blue eyes warmed his heart. Vicki deserved everything she ever wanted.

He smiled at her, "I am."

She batted her eyes. "Fulfilled is a better word. You deserve to be in love."

The doorbell rang again. John joined his wife near the door and answered it together. A tall, thin brown-haired, browned-eyed woman stood in the door. Colt stood straighter, and as a result, Peter did too.

In her simple black dress and white dewy skin, she seemed the opposite of everyone here from Miami. The woman wore no makeup and stood tall. Her hands were clenched at her side, and there was something different about her.

He licked his lips. No one else here looked like her. Vicki hit her fiancé's stomach and said, "Belle. She's perfect."

Peter nodded.

John then returned to their group with the woman in question. "Colt, Vicki, your friend Belle Jordan is here."

The air around him smelled like apples.

John pointed to Belle and Colt nodded.

Vicki hugged the woman like they were old friends. Belle's grimace read like she didn't agree. Peter's shoulders tensed. Whoever this Belle was, she was new. He had never met her, though she knew Colt. And something inside him burst as he stared at her profile.

She pushed a piece of hair behind her ear and stepped out of the hug. Her shoulder had a thin, old scar like she'd been cut, and she didn't try to hide it. He fingered his chin. Every other woman in the party would have demanded plastic surgery to remove something like that.

Peter then couldn't stop himself and he asked, "What happened to your shoulder?"

Belle fiddled with her hair again. "I pulled Colt here out of a mine field he found himself in. The razor fence got me."

Colt nodded. "I'd not be alive if not for you."

Vicki then smiled brighter. "I’m forever in your debt. Belle, we're so happy you came."

Peter watched the exchange and understood. Belle was Colt's old fiancée. As he saw Belle's grimace, and how she held herself stiff and unmoving, she confirmed who she was.

How she held her arms around her waist, but still gave off a sense of strength took his breath away.

John poked his side. "We all agree. Belle is the bet."

His stomach clenched as he stared at this tall, thin woman. He'd never be able to give any woman the man his sister married. Now, more than ever, he'd have to win. He turned away from gawking. All women had their price. He'd figure out hers. Fast.

Chapter Three

Belle's entire body stayed tense as she wandered through the mansion. On the wall hung original paintings she had seen at museums. She hugged her stomach again. No wonder Colt chose Victoria. The Morgans had serious money. She had bare walls, half dead plants, and two bedrooms. The balcony overlooking the bay was reminiscent of Venice.

In class and upbringing, she'd never have a shot at true love. She rubbed the goose bumps on her arms as she sighed and gazed at a Monet. She'd seen it at the Smithsonian with a borrowed sign. They must have borrowed from the Morgans.

In Miami, and in the House of Morgan, the warm sunshine of the day ensured the evenings were pleasant and warm. Every Morgan must have enjoyed extravagance and money provided without once struggling.

Next to the Monet was a Van Gogh. She leaned closer to inspect. They must be the originals. The Morgans owned a chunk of the world's economy, and this luxury must be why Victoria thought it was fine to lie to everyone about dying. Belle would never be so reckless. She took care of herself and her family with hard work and determination.

Colt stepped away from his gorgeous blue-eyed bride to come over. Belle averted her gaze from the Van Gogh to the next painting. She wasn't sure of the painter as the signature was illegible, but it seemed familiar. She straightened her shoulders.

As she smelled Colt's cologne in the air, no pang in her heart came. She still stiffened like she was about to go into battle as he nodded and stood beside her. "We're glad you're here."

Her muscles jumped out of her skin. "Glad I could be here."

"Belle, I truly hope you can be happy."

His big eyes held something unsaid. Whatever it was, it wasn't her problem. Not anymore. If he didn't want her here, then he shouldn't have sent two invitations.

She polished a speck of dirt off her wrist. "Great. I hope the same thing. Your Victoria is waiting for you over there."

"I love her. She loves me. You are so great. I'm sure you'll be next to fall in love and find happiness."

No chance of that happening to her. She couldn't have swallowed if she tried at the moment. There was a pain in her throat.

She nodded, though the cords in her neck were tight. "Okay, perfect. Thank you so much. You should go now."

"I will. If you ever need me, I'm still your friend."

She winced. In the desert, he was one of the few people she knew without a doubt had her back. She shivered and held a whimper in her voice. "We were always that, weren't we?"

“Yes and I hope we still can be.”

“I’m here. The rest we’ll see.”

As soon as she could, she slipped out of the gallery hall and onto the patio. People in colorful dresses milled outside as they sipped colorful drinks. She held her hand up and bit one of her nails. A beer would suit her fine.

Heat washed through her. Then with a tremble, it slowed. The dark-haired, brown-eyed muscular man in a suit, who had stood next to Colt in the room, now walked over and slipped out the door. She clenched her hands at her side as he came and stood next to her.

He licked his lips. "Would you like a drink?"

Her shoulders went up like they'd serve as a shield. "How do I know it's not drugged?"

"Yes, this is Florida, but drugs aren't my scene." He swallowed. "You were hugging my sister, Vicki. I'll introduce myself. I'm Peter Morgan, and you are?"

"You're the Peter Morgan?"

The Morgan family was old money, and his name appeared in Fortune 500 regularly. His political candidates, with the sizable donations he offered, could outweigh any organized lobby effort. Her boss had set a clear rule to avoid the corporations that might interfere with their agenda. Morgan Enterprises was on the list. Despite the tension running through her muscles, she gripped her hands together and stood still.

"Your company is in contract negotiations with Century Arms to help supply the army?"

He scratched his chin. "I think so, but that’s a very small part of my business. And your name is?"

A man like this one could have anyone he wanted. The smell of oak trees washed through her. She lifted her chin. "Belle Jordan. I work in contracts for Century Arms."

His mouth opened. "So you are the Belle Jordan once engaged to Colt Collins?"

Her lips pursed. "The same. Can I get you the drink now?"

"I suppose. I usually get the lady her drink."

“Welcome to the twenty first century.” Billionaire playboys shouldn't smell like oak trees. He inched closer to her and more goose bumps spread and were probably on every inch of her skin now.

"Tell you what. Why don’t we go together to the bar and watch the drink get poured.”

“Safe.” As they strolled, she winked, “Don’t trust a woman then. I understand. You should protect your virtue at all costs.”

A smile grew on his face. “I'm surprised you're here for the wedding."

Men like this did not talk to girls like her. She swallowed as they stopped near bar stools. "You and me both."

“I’ll have a dirty martini.” She told the bartender.

Peter nodded. “Make that two then.”

“I thought rich men like yourself drink whiskey neat or cognac.”

“I can live dangerously.” Drinks were ordered and she turned toward Peter. He was so close he might touch her bare arms at any moment.

“That’s good for you. I prefer a more sedate life these days. I’m sure my interests are too simple for you.”

“Interesting. You want simple.” Fire grew inside her as he asked, "Let’s do that. Do you like what you do?"

Perhaps she hadn't just said Century Arms or that she ensured the military had the best options available in weapons. Her mind swirled. She didn't have to say anything. He would have no idea what she did. She pressed her lips together. "I like ensuring I have a roof over my head, that my father can take cruises whenever he wishes now, and that I have a semblance of security."

He tilted his head closer. "I pay people to handle security for me, but I'm surprised Century Arms affords you all that."

She stood still, unsure if she wanted to leave. A warm breeze brushed against her spine.

"I am good at what I do, and I like to do things for myself."

The bartender offered them both their drinks. His gaze narrowed. "Are you always this dry?"

There it was, right on schedule. Men who had everything were usually the worst lots to speak to.

"Yes. I'm quite boring. You should leave now and save yourself the trouble of talking to me. I'm quite sure someone here will find you interesting, like that dark haired beauty who keeps staring."

He didn’t blink in the direction she pointed. His entire focus was on her. She could hardly breath as he said, "I meant dry as in funny and interesting."

Funny wasn’t a word that was usually linked to her. His hands went into his pockets. She glanced at his face and saw the dimples appear. "Ahh. Well then, next time be clear."

"Boom. You don't hold back punches."

‘Go away' was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit her lip closed. Her skin zapped near him. She rubbed her neck. "No, I don't like to waste my time or anyone else's."

"You're not a waste of time."

He must be kidding. His soft voice was sexy. She wouldn't be charmed. She rolled her eyes. "Sure thing, Romeo."

A waiter walked past them with a tray full of champagne. He picked two glasses up and handed one to her. She took a deep breath and accepted the glass. The air around her at the moment was magnetic. She couldn't walk away from him right now.

“This is a lot of alcohol.”

“Drunk women don’t interest me, but I’m sure you can choose what you want.”

She took the champagne as both their martinis were untouched. It seemed a waste, but she held her tongue. As the waiter left, Peter clinked their glasses together. "Cheers."

Was this because they had spoken for more than a minute? She had never spoken to a man that made her stomach get butterflies.

She sipped her glass. "To what?"

"To our new friendship."

She stepped away. Peter Morgan and the entire Morgan family would never be her friends. But being near Peter caused adrenaline to pump through her veins. She'd have to call Emily and find out what was taking her friends so long to arrive.

She needed backup, but right now she shook her head. "We have a friendship? This fast? I’m flattered."

"Belle Jordan, I'd prefer to keep you on the friend list. I'd hate to have you as an enemy."

Enemies were almost easier to handle than her attraction with the head of the Morgan family. She sipped her drink again. "I don't do friendships much with strange men I meet at parties who I’ll never see again."

He brushed his arm against her. "Take a chance. I'll get us out of this party early, and we can go get dinner."

The door would be lovely. Colt kissed his new bride's cheek, and the woman's smile grew. Her lips tingled near Peter. If she left with him, she'd be in worse trouble. She gulped her drink. "Okay. I came to make an appearance. If you can get us out in five minutes, I'm in for dinner."

"Consider it done."

That was the opposite of what she had intended to say. Peter walked away to go speak to Colt. She squared her shoulders and sipped her drink. None of these people knew her. She was safe in a crowd. She swallowed. Alone with a man like Peter, she might act out of character.

A woman with long, black hair and a body meant for a super model almost knocked the practically empty drink out of Belle's hand. She flipped her messy mop of hair away from the glamazon.

The woman pouted and then glared. "Watch where you are going."

Belle clutched her drink stem. "You ran into me."

She'd have definitely been the poster child for the in-crowd of high school. The woman posed with one leg out to her side, like a ballerina about to take off.

"Are you going home with Peter Morgan?"

No. Sex was not on the agenda, but this stranger had no business in her life. She finished her drink with her last gulp. She pressed her lips together and intended not to say a word, but women like the one whose eyes made her feel judged rubbed Belle the wrong way.

"Jealous it's not you?"

A wide, knowing smile flashed. This woman knew Peter, well.

Belle hugged her stomach as the woman retorted, "I can take that train ride away from you with a snap of my fingers, and we both know it."

Peter put his arm around Colt's shoulder in the other room. She turned and glanced at the gorgeous woman that stood in front of her. It was silly that someone with his dark eyes, money, and strong shoulders saw her as anything remotely interesting. This woman had no right to judge, though.

"Are you here to threaten me to stay away from him?"

Her bright red lips pouted as her fake chest popped out. "No, he is no longer mine. I am here to give you a warning. He will sleep with you and never call again."

On that they both had the same belief, though she had no idea why Peter Morgan had spent more than a minute with her. She gazed at him as he now laughed at something Colt said. Their arms touched like they were friends.

Belle then rolled her eyes at this olive-skinned woman. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Besides, he's not your type."

The reasons didn't have to insult her. She pressed her lips together. "What is my type?"

"Someone you can boss around. You've too much iron in how you stand."

Her fingers clenched. The nights in Miami were hot, humid, and heavy, but clearly the air took away people's brains.

"And who are you to know anything about me?"

"I'm Jennifer Gonzales. I'm Victoria's best friend."

That did not compute. Her one evening with Victoria in the past, and Colt's years of speaking of her, made Victoria seem angelic. Peter was the clear agenda here. Belle placed her glass on the table beside her. She tapped her shoe against the floor and then snapped her finger.

"I can't imagine anyone like you with Colt. He's always preferred Victoria, even as children. Is that why you are going home with Peter?"

“Is he yours then?”

“No.”

"Then we’re done talking.”

“I want to tell you...”

“Boundaries exist for a reason." This woman was clearly not happy and had butted into her choices long enough. At least Belle's body temperature cooled off. She shook her head. "This conversation is over."

Victoria came barreling toward them and stepped in front of Jennifer. She then wrapped her arms around her and said, "Belle, I wanted to say thank you for coming."

Jennifer's face contorted. Belle stared at Vicki and smiled.

This was all too much.

Belle told them both, "I'm tired."

Vicki scratched her head. "Really? Peter said you're both off to get dinner."

Her voice squeaked. Heat spiked inside her. "He did?"

Jennifer threw her arms to her side and sashayed to another dark-haired man. Both Belle and Vicki stared at her in silence for a full minute.

Victoria then stepped in front of her. "Yeah. My brother and Jennifer were a thing, and I don't know if she's let go. Don't let whatever happened interfere with my brother. I'm hoping you both hit it off."

At least his sister hadn't approved of whatever happened with Jennifer. Belle's estimation increased of the woman she was supposed to despise on principle. Tingles grew all over her body, again. There was no way the American royalty type mixed with her blood. Victoria was likely saying that to cover how she ruined her almost happy marriage to her old partner.

Instead she pointed toward the patio and Jennifer. "Ignore her."

"She said she was your friend and that I should stay away from your brother. Do you think the same?"

"My opinion on my brother's life doesn't matter." Victoria crossed her arms and then nodded. "Though Jennifer and Peter are like oil and water. Don't take whatever she said to heart."

If Peter had chosen the gorgeous model type, then there was zero way she should spend time with him. Instead Belle simply said, "If you say so."

Peter was close. She could feel his presence as her heart sped faster.

Chapter Four

Peter grabbed his jacket and fixed his tie in the mirror next to his brother. Belle's face now had a flush on it, and it wasn't because of anything he had said. His sister wouldn't have upset her. He rubbed his chin as he slipped outside. He’d find out what happened.

One month with someone like Belle would be interesting. He nodded at the men, who parted for him, as he walked toward Belle. The white Christmas lights that surrounded the tropical garden made his brother's backyard seem more intimate. He immediately offered Belle his arm.

She stared at him with her crystal clear brown eyes and then gazed at his arm. She lifted her chin and stepped away.

The denial stung. His sister, Vicki, hugged him. "See you both tomorrow at the rehearsal dinner. I'm so excited."

Belle gulped her drink and lowered her gaze. Every small movement she made snapped in his brain. His attention to her details shocked him. He followed her gaze across the patio that stopped at Jennifer. Something must have happened while he was in the other room. He pressed his lips together and wondered if Belle was jealous.

He hugged his sister and said, "Call me if you need anything."

Belle's eyes grew bigger the moment he touched her shoulder.

His sister winked at him. "I need you to be happy."

“Don’t worry about me. Today is about you.”

Belle stared at them both like she'd never seen anything like them. She avoided the silent intimacy, and her wide eyes were like a kaleidoscope. He'd not lose, especially if being near Belle ensured the wedding happened without any incidents. His stomach hardened. “You’re my brother...”

“Don’t worry.” Peter placed his hand on her back as he told his sister, "Night, Vicki."

Belle picked up her pocketbook and waved. "Yes, good night. See you tomorrow."

His arm brushed against her. Every cell in his hand that touched her ached to do it again.

As they made their way across the floor, people stopped and stared. Belle's walk became stiffer halfway to the door. She must be self-conscience that people were wondering who she was. He pressed his lips together and hoped if they talked she'd be distracted. All her attention should be on him.

He kept his voice low as he said, "I know Florida will never be a White Christmas..."

“No joke.” Belle whispered in return.

The moment they reached the door, Colt interrupted and hugged Belle. "Again, I'm happy you're here. You should think about staying for the week. New Year's here is fun, and Peter can show you around."

“Yeah, right. We’ll see.” Belle sounded half hearted. He’d have to talk to her.

Colt slapped his shoulder. Peter swallowed his retort. Tomorrow Colt would become his brother-in-law. Belle stared straight at Colt and not at Peter. It seemed her eyes moistened. Peter straightened his spine and pressed his hand on Belle's wrist. "It's time we said goodbye."

Colt must have seen his sister behind them as he smiled right through him. Belle winced at how Colt winked and sent an air kiss outside. Peter paused. A woman in love with his future brother-in-law could cause his sister issues. Belle whispered. “Let’s go now.”

“Opening the door.” Peter's muscles tightened, and his stomach had a slight burn that grew. He'd find out Belle's desires and change things. As he held the door for her, they stepped outside into the warm evening sky.

He closed the door behind them as she said, "For the record, you cheated to get us out early."

He lifted one eyebrow. "I did?"

She licked her lips. "Yeah you told everyone we're off to dinner."

Her eyes sparkled like diamonds. The burn inside his stomach lightened to a sensation more like bubbles. He didn't recognize the feeling. “We are.”

“I never said tell anyone.”

He stroked his chin and then came close to her ear to whisper. "You didn't set rules not too. If you are going to call something fair or cheating, then we'll need those."

She turned and walked backwards through the front lawn and then gazed at him with her huge brown eyes. "Do you follow rules?"

Inside the house behind, them the music changed to a soft samba. His arms wanted to touch her skin and find out if she was silky and sweet, but if he reached out, he'd dance with her. Then she'd tell him no. It was how she stood with her legs slightly apart. His normal wouldn't work with her. He wondered what it would take for her to say yes. He licked his lips.

"Rules? Ehh. I’m okay, when they suit me."

“You expect them to be followed, I’m sure.” She rolled her eyes. "So let’s change the topic. Where are we going? I'll follow in my rental."

At least she was a woman that kept her word. She hadn't made an excuse to skip on dinner, though she made him feel like he had asked for a new kind of trouble. He placed his hand on her side and inched her to their left.

"My people will move your car. The limo is over here."

“Of course you ride in a limo, probably everyday.” She sucked in her breath as people snapped pictures of her. Through clenched teeth she asked, "Who just did that?"

He leaned closer. "The press. It's best if we go fast. I promise nothing will happen to the vehicle here."

"As it's your brother's house, and I'm here for your sister's wedding, I'll trust you with the car, but make no mistake, I’m going to my hotel room, alone, after this dinner."

“If that’s what you want.” She squared her shoulders and scooted inside the limo. He stayed close to ensure no one came near her.

“It’s definitely what I want. I’m not attracted to you in the least.”

“You hardly know me to make that claim.”

As he sat beside her and his driver closed the door, she asked him, "Now at the party, why did you come talk to me?"

"You're beautiful." No one challenged him. He sat more comfortably in his seat and stared at her. She pushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. She had glowing white skin, which wasn't bronzed from the never-ending sunlight. She almost sparkled with how new she was to this climate.

Again she rolled her eyes. "Jennifer was beautiful. I was a soldier. Beauty to me is vanity."

"Perhaps that's what makes you breathtaking.” Most women he knew would have just said thanks. He stroked his chin and his already growing shadow of a beard. “You are real and interesting and the opposite of Jennifer."

She sat straight and tall. "Interesting that you notice that about me. It makes me wonder what your friends are like."

"I don't have friends.” She was full of opinions. He leaned forward and let his hands fold in front of him. “The only people I know with character seem to be my family and their spouses."

"Friends tell a lot about a person." A half smile formed near her cheeks, and the outline of a dimple appeared. "So I guess you have horrible taste."

Her face brightened.

He winked. "Perhaps I was waiting for you."

She leaned forward to stare into his eyes. "You are a relentless flirt."

Gumption wasn't something most women in his life ever had. Again the smell of applies hit him, and he realized the obvious. He blinked. "No one's accused me of that."

“To your face anyway.” She sat. "Where are we eating dinner?"

Part of him wanted to say Venice just to see what she'd say. Right now he had the sense she'd jump from the car at first opportunity if he did. Perhaps next time. He licked his lips and hoped she accepted the challenge. "On my yacht."

"Wow, expectations are high on your part." She crossed her arms. "You pulling out all the stops for tonight?"

A rattled Belle might be interesting to see. He lifted his brows. "No, not really. Would you like me to? I could call for the jet."

“I’m here for a wedding tomorrow, sorry.” She shook her head and then sat stiffly in her seat. Then she glanced out the window as the limo drove over the bridge that connected Miami to the beaches. “And this is strange night.”

“How?”

"I'm not someone who flirts or has fun. It's never been in the cards for me."

Forlorn women weren't his usual skill set. He leaned forward again. Belle's armor had to have a chip in it somewhere. "Why don't you have fun?"

“Ohh.” She lowered her gaze. "I do, but it's not the kind you are clearly used to. What matters is who people are on the inside."

“I’m good at sizing up people. It’s part of my job.” Perhaps she moped because Colt had chosen his sister instead of this Belle. He swallowed and hoped this wasn't jealousy. "I'm curious what you think of my sister. You must hate her for marrying Colt."

“I suppose I should.” She leaned closer, and again her fearlessness unmanned him. No one stared at him like she did. She swallowed. "But I don't.”

“No one is that much of a saint.”

“I’m not that. Colt thought she was dead when he was with me. In the years he spent with me, he only ever said how he wished he had time with Victoria to talk about their daughter. He was a good father. It was part of the charm he had.”

“You want the instant family then?”

“Assumptions are usually wrong. I'm sure he told you we fought about him moving to DC and leaving his family farm."

"He'd never go. My sister could live anywhere in the world, and she chose Homestead, Colt and her family."

“He left me because he wanted to stay there, or so he said.”

True. Colt must have been conflicted. Peter clenched teeth created a pain in his jaw. He parted his lips, and the taste of apples tickled his throat. He reached out and brushed his hand against hers. Her skin was silky soft, and it wasn't likely layered on lotion. Sparks surged in his cells. He realized she did that to him.

He leaned closer. "So you accepted someone who could never love you as his first and only."

"Wait. What? That's not fair." She took her hand away from his reach. Again his fingers ached to hold her more. She played with a strand of her hair and said, "No one is perfect. And Colt was someone I could depend on."

He narrowed his gaze. "Is that what you seek? Dependability?"

She flinched like had he caught her. Then she squared her shoulders. "Yeah. Someone real and not all glitter."

“Men don’t glitter.”

“A metaphor and men can absolutely appear to be great but turn out to be nothing but an illusion. You have the appearance of a dream guy, but we both know you’re not the forever type.”

“I don’t promise what I cannot give, but I live for the moment.” The moonlit sky illuminated her face. The brightness in her gaze told him she spoke from her heart. Most people were not expressive, and no woman ever spoke to him like she did. It was almost refreshing.

“And take whatever you want.”

"Don't judge me because I have access to anything I might ever want."

She lifted her chin. "No, you don't."

Everything about Belle was different. The gleam in her eye was refreshing. He tapped his knee. "I don't?"

She shrugged. "You'll never have me."

Good answer, not that he'd give her credit. A woman like Belle would hold nothing back, and she'd likely spend her life disapproving of his choices. He sunk into the cushions behind him.

"You scare me, Belle. If I did have you, you'd be the type that stays forever."

She puckered her lips like she'd say 'so I'm right as always.' “That makes us opposite then.”

“Perhaps that’s what interesting about you then.”

“No, you’re wondering why I don’t want to be here and you’re fascinated for the evening.” She leaned closer, and their arms brushed. His shirt blocked his skin from experiencing that shock to his skin. The hair on his arms stood straighter as she said, "But tomorrow, we’ll never see each other again and we clearly don’t have wedding bells in our future. So I’m safe to talk to."

“Most of your judgments about me is harsh.” Tonight's score had Belle in the clear lead. He had no idea how to melt her ice with anything but honesty. "You are right on one thing. Marriage is not in the cards for me, ever."

Her eyebrows raised. "Don't you want a family?"

"My own was punishment enough. Why would I want to subject a child to that kind of pain?"

That had flown out of his mouth. He bit his tongue, but then she smiled. "Family isn't always painful. It's just hard to figure out if someone is good for your life or not when lust clouds the judgment. Your last girlfriend was gorgeous."

“Beauty is part of the requisite in business deals.” He covered his lips and leaned closer.

“So what on earth was beautiful in me that made you talk?”

His mouth watered, and he wished to taste. He met her gaze. "You're an optimist and tell what you see."

“True.” She winked. "I guess I am honest."

Her innocence didn't make sense. Everything in his head conflicted as his stomach tightened. "I don't know. You surprised me. I thought you would be a jealous, bitter woman I'd have to keep from the wedding."

“Guess I shocked you.” Her gaze snapped at him as her lips parted. "Is that why you wanted to go out to dinner with me?"

“Why not.” If he let her believe that, he'd get out of this, but she'd never trust him. He lowered his hand to his knee, opened his mouth, but then the truth spilled out. "I wanted to find out if you were as real as you seemed.”

“Still.” Her soft sigh with the moonlight behind her made Belle a siren call. He held his pant leg in a slight bunch. "I find it hard to believe."

The limo stopped at the dock. His yacht gleamed from cleanliness in front of them. "We're here. Are you game to get out and find out?"

She threw open the door. He jumped to follow her as the driver barely had time to open his own door.

He shared a look with his driver and said fast, "We'll be a few hours."

She was already halfway down the docks. He hadn't run after a woman, ever. There was a first time for everything as he exerted himself and joined her. Then he point toward his yacht. She followed his finger and nodded.

"Do you have champagne on this boat of yours?” She swallowed. “Break it open then and let’s continue.”

“Continue what?”

“Celebrating marriage of your sister and my ex. Let's toast to this Christmas and how, at least for tonight, two opposites might become friends."

"Friends? Well, I'll take that as a beginning."

“Friends is all you’ll ever get.”

Belle was unlike anyone he'd ever met.

Chapter Five

Tonight, Belle Jordan pretended she was someone else. Peter Morgan walked beside her down the dock. The salt mixed with his scent and her lips begged for a taste. He would be sweeter than ice cream.

She swallowed and glanced away from him. None of this made any sense as part of her life. Her shoulders tightened as they inched closer to the USS Destiny. The fantasy nonsense would never be her life.

Without waiting for his hand, she hopped onto his yacht, which could compete in a boat show as the most ostentatious one that existed. She then turned around to see if he took the rail or followed her. She pressed her lips together. His strong muscles against her skin would crush her, in a good way.

He jumped and landed next to her.

Her heart pounded. The rich man now in front of her was some illusion. She sniffed the air and the smell of oak struck her. The smell tickled her nose, reminding her of a home she'd never had. She massaged her neck and went toward the aft. He went toward what must be the ship's command. She crossed her arms. The waters were still and warm here.

None of this required her to figure anything out or do anything. She hugged her stomach. The motors under her feet buzzed as they flipped on.

Peter stepped outside and joined her. His massive wall of muscles made no sense for someone like him. Rich men were supposed to get fat and not make her body experience shots of electrical surges.

He pointed to the deck chairs. She ticked her head and saw no reason to disagree with him and headed toward the chairs. As he neared her, goose bumps spread again. It seemed to be her usual reaction as she ached to touch him. The moon was high in the sky now. She licked her lips as the salt air moistened her face. Her mouth quivered for a kiss as he came to stand beside her.

Neither of them said anything. She massaged her arms to stop the goose bumps. Nothing worked. The warmth she felt tonight seemed to fuel an internal fire. Something surged in the air around her.

Then a servant came and placed a tray, a bottle of champagne and two flutes on the table between the chairs.

She sighed and turned to the moon. This might be the universe laughing at her for praying earlier. She’d not be desperate and let moments where she wanted to beg for his attention play out. She needed to stamp out her attraction to him, right now. Tomorrow would be easier. This one night might stay lodged in her dreams.

She stared into Peter's brown eyes. The chocolate-colored hues were like a mask, and she had no idea what he felt inside. Her skin tingled. She'd never be this close to someone like him ever again. She traced her neckline and leaned closer to him.

"What's it like growing up as one of America's oldest dynasties? Did your dad keep you locked in your room to ensure that you knew how to keep the books?"

As if he were mimicking her, he rubbed his neck and nodded. "Yeah."

“What?” She blinked. "Sorry."

She lowered her hand to her side. She'd been rude and hadn't meant anything by it. The vision of a young boy locked in his room with a book and a pencil wafted through her.

She fixed her hair behind her ear. "I was being sarcastic. It's a bad habit."

"You hit a direct target." He shrugged and placed his hands in his pocket. "I was being honest. Dad quizzed me on how to read balance sheets and ensured I had a plan to earn a million dollars before I was ten that he executed to prove my successes or failures of mind. The daily updates as I stood next to his desk made my knees knock."

Her father had made her feel that way once when she brought a D home on her report card and then said she'd fix it with the teacher. The lecture of responsibility had hit her hard in the gut. She reached for the flute of champagne and sipped like it gave her space.

"Wow. That sucks. My lemonade stand taught me the value of a dollar, but it wasn't something held over my head."

He massaged his temples and closed his eyes. She tilted her head to ask what he thought. Then he picked up his glass and did the same.

"The lemonade stand is a way of ensuring poor people stay poor. At least that's what dear old dad said.”

“How?”

“It teaches hard work under the sun and not using your brains, at least in my father’s estimation. It keeps poor people attached to a nickel or a dime.”

He clinked his glass with hers. The vibration echoed in her heart. "I don't think I'd like him."

“Many would agree. Others still fear him, even after his death.” He sipped his drink and stared at the dark waters and the fading shoreline. "And most people say I'm just like him."

If he believed that, then she should let that echo in her heart serve as a reminder to not fantasize with Peter Morgan. Her fingers ached to reach out and hug him. She held still. Instead she sipped her drink and stared at his stiff body posture. "Are you?"

He gulped his drink. "Maybe."

Whatever it was that bothered him must be big. She sipped her drink and stepped close. Their arms briefly brushed against each other, and his masculine scent invaded the taste of champagne.

"Hmm. You don't want to answer yes or no? I can't judge as I didn't know your father."

To refill their glasses, he stepped away, for a moment, and traded with the waiter. "You call things like you see them and don't hold back."

She stilled. "Is that a statement or a question?"

He stared at her glass until she sipped. She followed his silent command. "Perhaps both. I don't know anything about you, Belle."

Her name sounded like someone else's on his lips. She flinched at the thought and squared her shoulders. "What's to know? I was in the Marines. I was once engaged to Colt, who will be your brother-in-law tomorrow, and now I'm here to cheer for their every happiness."

"Are you applying for sainthood, after all then?"

"No, and I don't deserve angel wings either, so don't get the wrong ideas."

He stared at her as she gulped her drink. He then asked, "Why are you here?"

“For me.” Her shoulders tensed. "I needed to get closure."

He stepped closer, and all she could see was his muscles. Unlike the men in the military though, Peter chose to stay in perfect shape. Instead this muscular man pressed against her slightly, and she had a tremble rush through her.

"You're holding back."

Sanity was important to keep. She ticked her head. "True, but we're not close enough to share secrets, are we?”

“We could be.”

“Hmm. I’ll think about it. And to answer your earlier question, I prefer to always tell the truth, no matter how it slices things between people."

He massaged his neck again and stared hard at her. "How were you going to marry Colt? I have known the country farm boy all my life, and I can't imagine someone as laid back and easy going as him with someone so full of depth and opinions."

"Are you calling Colt country?"

"I always did."

She shook her head. "Your sister is marrying him."

His eyes were like a microscope that peered through her. Belle stepped away from him to breathe as he said, "Vicki's a sweetheart who follows her heart. You seem to hide from yours though you share your strong opinions about life."

“Actions define a person far more than wishes.” She gulped her drink and then held out the stem. "Another glass, please. Your technique to seduce every female on the planet needs work."

“Unexpected.” He poured and then opened the tray to offer her a piece of fruit. She just took the champagne and sipped. He placed the tray on the table and gave her a half smile. "Is that what I'm to do now with you?”

“No, but you weren’t supposed to be interesting in return.” She stared at the ocean again. The waters were black at night, but something splashed in the distance. She tried to see, but couldn't make it out. "However, I think I’m right, Mr. Morgan? Aren't women just accessories in your life?"

He stepped in front of her, and his shoulders tenses. "What is that assumption based on? And don't call me Mr. Morgan again. I’m not my father."

“Okay, no worries on your name.” She pointed as she spoke. "But my assumptions are based on all of this. The yacht. The million dollar smile. The ease at which you swooped me here. I was curious how a woman gets swept off her feet so I followed."

He reached for her pointing finger and guided her arm back to her side. "Can your feet get swept, or are you always looking for a way to stay firmly planted on the ground?"

Her feet ached to move, but she held her jittery body together. "I don't know. I've never been asked."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I always get in my own way, Peter. I don't want to spend my life frivolously doing whatever pops in my head next."

His eyes widened as he stared at her. "So you are serious all the time and never venture into the unknown?"

"No. I'm here, aren't I?"

She glanced at his shiny black shoes. “So I’m the fun.”

“Let’s not go that far.” Flames grew inside her.

“You said you’d never see me again, once morning came.”

“Yeah, you’re not the type to call and check on me later type.” She tried to water that thought and told herself Valentino or whoever the latest designer was must have made them custom ordered for him.

“Guess we’ll see.”

Her face was hot as she glanced into his brown eyes. "Tonight I was supposed to blend into a crowd, wish Colt well and drink beer with friends."

"You intended to hide."

"Not exactly."

“I don’t see you as someone who hides from anything.”

“That’s probably true.”

He shook his head. "Belle Jordan, you need to experience more of life and indulge in champagne."

“Oh good. Flirting again.” She placed her hand on her hip and shrugged, "I’m game for now. Suggestions on how to indulge in this fantasy life?"

He stood in front of her again. Her heartbeat grew erratic as he then whispered in her ear, "First let the wonder of the moment into your heart."

She sucked on her bottom lip. "What?"

"You asked for a suggestion.” He stepped and sipped his drink. She did the same, but once her glass was empty, he placed both of the stems on the table.

“Do you even have a heart that you recognize Peter?”

“Most people would say no.” He returned to stand in front of her. “I'm the biggest jerk around most of the time, but even I let myself feel. You seem closed.”

“I don’t have time for frivolous men.”

“And I don't have time for every woman on the planet. Life is about moderation. My suggestion is to close your eyes, feel your heartbeat and then, when you count to ten, do something completely unexpected."

Her skin was electric as she inhaled. "I won't kiss you."

His eyes widened as she closed her eyes. "I didn't ask you to."

"Okay." Her cheeks prickled like she'd grow a blush. Her thermostat lowered fast. There was a chill in the air.

He then reached for her chin. "If we are to kiss, you'll have to tell me to do it."

Absolutely not. She pushed his hand away, though her skin ached for more of him. "Won't happen."

He shrugged but stayed so close that the breeze dissipated as her temperature climbed again. "I hope it will. Now close your eyes."

She followed orders for a moment, though her shoulders stayed tight. "This is a stupid idea."

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head.

"No comments to stop yourself. Do it, soldier."

She inhaled and oak mixed with the salt water as she closed her eyes, again. She licked her lips. "Yes, sir."

This time she swayed with the boat but didn't open her eyes. Her mind raced. This was a stupid idea, but she held together.

He whispered again, "Feel your heartbeat."

There were two heartbeats. One in her chest. The other was definitely his. Her pulse grew faster.

"I feel yours too. You're right with me and beating at the same time."

His breaths were heavy. "Should I step away?"

Her toes curled as her lips tingled for a kiss. She sighed and didn't move. "No."

"Now do something unexpected that will make you smile."

His warm breaths mixed with hers in the small space between them. Her lips quirked and puckered to beg for that kiss.

Then she stepped on his toes. She swallowed hard. With an intake of breath, she reached out for his hand and spun herself around.

She laughed and twirled again, in a dance.

A moment later, he wrapped his arms around her waist and led her in a ballroom dance.

Clearly he'd had lessons. She held onto him and followed his steps, but her head spun as she did. No other man ever tried to dance with her.

Chapter Six

The next morning, birds chirped outside a window. They echoed in her brain as if they were drilling holes in her head. Belle swallowed and tried to ignore how her body swayed. She rubbed her temples and then winced at her morning breath.

The bed rocked. She'd never drink that much champagne and she never would ever again. She sat straight and stared out the windows around her and into the beautiful blue ocean. No buildings were anywhere. The ship gently swayed in calm waters.

She turned around in her bunk and saw she was alone. Her clothes were all still on, though her bra pressed into her breasts like the metal was tangled. The last thing she remembered was Peter holding her in his strong arms. He must not have taken her home, not that she had told him her hotel. She massaged her temples as her bed bobbed with the current.

Peter Morgan had them sailing someplace last night. She had no idea where they might be now. She stood and turned around to stare out the huge windows. The Miami skyline or any land was missing. As she stood, her stomach churned as she stumbled. She held onto the wall and made her way toward the bathroom.

She flipped on the light, and it burned her eyes. Her head throbbed. She held onto the sink and let the wave that gently passed under the ship calm her. She glanced toward the sink again. A supply of small bottles and a new toothbrush were lined up to help her clean up.

A few minutes later, something splashed in the water. Her head throbbed less, though her stomach begged for something to eat. The engines weren't on. She crossed her arms and stepped out into the blazing sun.

There was no shade anywhere. The brightness again almost blinded her, but she covered her face and saluted the ocean. Clearly the ocean won against her today. Another splash echoed from the water. She covered her forehead so she might see what was in the water as she gazed.

Then a pair of dolphins bobbed their heads next to the ship. She fell to her knees and reached out like she might pet them. The two passed gracefully and sang. Her fingers ached to feel what a dolphin must be like, but nothing brushed against her. She closed her fingers, but then a strong pair of hands caught her wrist and yanked.

She tugged out of his strong grip but failed. So she yelled, "Hey."

Peter's brown hair and eyes came out of the water. Her mouth fell open as she stared at his chiseled, naked chest. His white teeth shone as he lightly pulled on her wrist.

"Come swim."

Belle pressed her lips together. She shook her head. "Are you mad? I don't have a suit."

His wet fingers held onto her wrist as her heartbeat grew faster. "When's the last time dolphins came this close to you?"

"Never." She gulped. His brown eyes were as mesmerizing as the dolphins that circled him. This wasn't fair. She licked her lips. "But I'm in my fancy dress."

He tilted his head to the dolphins. "I'll buy you another. Come in before you miss this."

This was one of those moments she'd never forget. Her skin was electric. This was a dream. She swallowed and jumped into the ocean. Peter's arms found her waist and tugged her toward the surface. Her bra needed to go anyway. Once it was thrown on the deck, she splashed and laughed. Then she peered at the ocean waiting, but nothing was there. She spit out the water in her mouth and intended to speak, but then something smooth brushed against her leg.

She covered her lips, unable to breathe a word. Peter took her hand, and she saw even more of his strong muscles. She licked her salty lips but then swallowed the water. She coughed as a dolphin's smooth, slippery skin bopped next to her. Her free hand reached out and petted its long nose. It let her and didn't move for a moment. The dolphin's nose brushed past her lips as it dove beside her.

A giggle escaped her.

Then Peter's arms grabbed hers, and he motioned for them to swim. The smell of oak was still present, so it wasn't any fancy aftershave that made her wish for things she shouldn't. The breast stroke came back to her, and she followed. The dolphins circled them once more and then swam too fast away from them.

They swam for a moment in silence. Peter's hand on hers sent a tremble through her and knocked away her senses. If he held her close or tried to kiss her, she'd let him. Her lips puckered, though the salt water inched into her throat and made her cough.

Peter pointed her to the ship, and she swam on her own beside him.

As they floated, she didn't see a cloud in the sky. This was all like a dream.

Once they made it to the ship, he let her take the ladder first. As she latched onto the metal bars, she told herself to wake up. Then she climbed onto the deck, Peter's shadow covered hers. She squeezed her ruined black dress against the side of the ship to let the ocean have some of its water back.

Peter's arms brushed against hers as he joined her. He made his way right toward the deck chair that held enough towels for both of them. He handed her one and wrapped her in another. His wall of muscles that surrounded her sent her body temperature climbing.

Then he wrapped himself in a towel and said, "Let's get you inside. You're already sunburned. I'll scrounge up some clothes for you to wear."

His tan was perfect. She held her question of whether his color went under his suit. Instead she massaged her neck and followed.

He pointed to a room. "I'll have clothes sent to your room. Meet me in five minutes on the second floor for breakfast?"

She nodded. What else might she say? Then she retraced her steps and returned. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why he had women’s clothes, but she hadn’t.

She washed off in the bathroom. When she came out, she found a pair of men’s shorts with an elastic waist and a tee shirt. She dropped her clothes in a pile on the floor as she changed.

Five minutes later, she walked into a room a floor above hers and entered a sitting area that displayed a tray of breakfast pastries and coffee. She dried her hands on the towel and then sat. Peter had waited for her without touching any dish, and he stood until she sat. As she lowered herself, he handed her a napkin and retook his seat.

"Does this happen to you all the time?"

"You mean the dolphins?"

"Yes. They’re my personal pets." He poured them both coffees as the engines purred on underneath their feet.

“You’re joking.”

“Yeah.” He handed her the cup. "I don’t know if beautiful creatures like them should be locked up, and besides, I don’t want an aquarium."

“They would require a lot of fish on a daily basis. Not the best pets. Perhaps you should get a dog?” Her fingers ached to touch him. She lowered her gaze. "And does swimming count as something unexpected?"

“No time for the care of any dogs and my maid would not like the extra work, I’m sure.” He added cream to his coffee. His chin bobbed as if he gave her words deep thought. "As for swimming, I'll give that a yes."

A slow smile built on her face. "I wasn't always so hard, you know. Most people would find my kind of fun rather boring."

"If boring is the worst they say about you, then it's not that bad."

"What do people say about you?"

“Much worse.” How his eyes widened made her stomach do a flip. Then he said, "Drink your coffee.”

“What do they say?”

“I don’t  care what others say or think, but I've been a selfish jerk for years that never needed anyone."

"You tell yourself you're a jerk but don't see how nice you truly are." She squeezed her hair again and licked her lips. He was hard on himself. "And your siblings clearly love you."

He shook his head. "I don't deserve it."

She placed the coffee on the table and rubbed his knee. "Why?"

He ran his hand through his hair. "They left. I protected them from our father, but I did whatever he wanted. I was Mitch Morgan's heir and entitled to everything.”

“Did you act like your father?”

“I hope not, but he trained me. They didn't have to take the same lessons, over and over again. They didn't watch our mom walk out the door. And when they were big enough, they ran away. Do you know what it's like to be so spoiled and know you are being spoiled because you're the heir? It's like a poison that runs through the veins."

“Don’t torture yourself.” Her own father needed her to ensure that his retirement went well, but he had saved for years. He enjoyed himself now, and the weight on her shoulders wasn't like Peter's. Her legs parted as she leaned closer to him. “You did what you could to help those you loved and didn’t push them away.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You spoke more about caring about your family than you did about being selfish.”

“You really are optimistic.”

"Let me ask you another question. So when you were talking about me doing the unexpected, you were discussing yourself too?"

"No. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want."

"Or do you now act out to spite your father?"

His eyes widened again. "Smart and inquisitive."

The colors in his eyes that swam and fueled her fantasy of this moment didn't matter. She slumped in her chair and picked up her coffee to break the spell she was in. "Besides all your money and power, you're scared."

"Me?" He raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"You don't let people in. Your guard might be stronger than my own."

"The dolphin swim must have really loosened my brain."

Hers too, not that she'd say that. She held her breath and tried to rein in her inhibitions. She glanced out the window, but the distraction didn't work. She was still in this room with him, and it felt cozy and warm.

She sighed. "Tell you what, I don't want to go to your sister's wedding alone to sit with my friends and feel sorry for myself. I have this idea."

"I'm listening."

"Good." She probably blushed as she said, "I'd like for us to stay at each other's side for the day. If you can trust me a little, then I can trust you."

"Like a date?"

Her heartbeat was so rapid in her chest now. "Yeah, I guess."

His hands brushed her knee, and her hair rose on her skin from the electrical shock. "Why can you trust me?"

"You can say no."

"I won't. I just want to know why you trust me of all people."

She sipped her coffee, though the caffeine made her heart slight worse. She held the handle tighter. "You let me sleep off the obviously too much champagne."

He picked up a croissant from the tray of food and placed it in front of her. "Of course I did. I don't need to rape or pillage to get what I want."

No, women lined up at his door for one night. She read the newspapers that lined the food aisle.

"You were a gentleman. And even more important, to me, is that you told me about yourself. I'm willing to try and trust you, for one night."

His chin jetted out as he held his cup in his hands. "I'm looking forward to our date then, but I'll hold out for that kiss of yours."

"What?"

He winked at her again. "I promised you'd ask me. I'll be your date tonight, but I'm telling you my hope. At the end of it, I hope I get to taste you."

Her cup jittered. She grabbed the bottom of the cup so she'd not spill. "Don't hold out for that."

"I can't help it. You fascinate me."

They had a date of sorts. She'd have someone to sit with tonight, and with the cameras in her face, there was no way she'd break down.

She added butter to her croissant. "So are we going to float in the ocean all day or at some point do we head back to Miami?"

"The Bahamas have some nice shopping."

"I didn't pack my passport."

His dimples showed. He stood and strode across the room. "That's disappointing. Hold on. I'll call my captain."

She shook her head. "You're sweet."

As she waited, she nibbled on her croissant. She swallowed. The bread was soft and dewy and freshly made. She swallowed the whole thing, and she wiped her mouth has he returned to his seat.

"Done. I cancelled our private beach villa morning. We'll head back to Miami now. As my date tonight, there are expectations. Will you allow my handlers to ensure everything is picture perfect for tonight?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "Handlers?"

"They keep my name clean in the press. I want to avoid negative publicity as much as possible."

One of the reasons she wanted to go with him was to seem unaffected. She'd never cry about her own silly heart if she was surrounded. She gulped her coffee. "Okay."

Again he had those sexy dimples. Rich men shouldn't be granted good looks. It was a double whammy. She held out her cup, and the blasted man had manners enough to refill it as he asked, "The Biltmore will know the Morgan Enterprise people."

"I'm not staying there."

"Why not? It's where we put up all the out of town guests."

"I didn't know I was coming."

"What hotel are you staying at?"

Her hands shook as she held the saucer. She tried to hide it and gazed out the window again. "The Extended Stay."

The glass reflected the frown on his face and read his opinion perfectly. "I'll change your hotel. You should be with the rest of the wedding guests."

Her hotel suited her needs. She was perfectly fine, but her voice sounded like a chipmunk as she asked, "What?"

"I can't have my date return to some place unacceptable. My mother already disappeared. My sister faked her death. The last thing I need is more women who up and disappear. So jot down your room number and I’ll have my people move you."

All that information overload meant she didn't register anything about his mother or sister. It was all a blur, though she tried to see through it. "You can't buy me Peter."

"We all have our price tags on what we'll compromise on. The rest of the day isn't about buying favors for you. This is about ensuring everyone at my sister's wedding is taken care of. I'm still the selfish jerk I always was. Don't forget that part."

She placed her coffee on the table and scratched her head. "I don't understand."

"You will. See you tonight. Accept the dress for the one I ruined on you and the rest of the stuff you need to be my date."

"I can get my own dress."

"You and I don't live in the same worlds. Don't think of anything as more than armor to protect yourself, like the uniform you must have worn in the Marines."

"I do go to parties in DC with senators and representatives a lot."

"Those people all service men like me, Belle. Let my staff do its job so you're comfortable with the cameras."

"Okay, I guess." She feigned interest in her nails and wrote her hotel information on a slip of paper, though she couldn't stop her question. "Are you sure you're real?"

"Don't worry. There is always a catch with me, and for you it's a kiss."

He sipped his coffee and bit into the croissant like he hadn't said something monumental. She picked up her cup and accepted that near Peter Morgan her heart beat faster, but it wasn't fear. She sipped her cup. "We’ve had progress, you and I.”

“We have?”

“Sure. I'm not anxious near you anymore, so that's good, but I also don't promise anything else."

He brushed the outline of his morning beard that he hadn't shaved yet. "Belle, there is something fascinating about you."

“You keep using that word when you talk about me.” She crossed her arms. She should have been clearer. "Either way though, that kiss probably won't happen."

"We'll see. Probably means I still have a chance."

"Don’t get your hopes up.”

“I learned hope from you.” He didn't say anything else and her heart raced with the truth. He might be right. For a moment she hoped he'd rip off her shirt and kiss her hard, right now. She sipped her coffee. This fantasy about Peter was new. She had never expected to become attracted to him, but there was no way, she’d let fantasy interfere with cold hard reality.

Chapter Seven

As the yacht docked, Belle held out her hand to shake, but Peter reached in for a hug. Her body tingled, and she couldn't figure out what to do. She hadn't hugged him. Instead she patted his back, but she didn't quite know how far to reach across him to give him a hug.

Her heartbeat grew erratic. Finally she settled on keeping her arms from touching him, and the unsteadiness made her lightheaded. In the end, she pressed her arm behind his shoulders.

As he let go, she prayed her face didn't show a huge blush. Most of his women probably knew how to hug.

She brushed her hair behind her ear as he said, "See you tonight. I'll pick you up from your hotel."

“Yeah. There is a problem.” Her entire body was hot and steamy, and it had nothing to do with the temperature outside. She fanned herself and licked her lips. "I don't know where I'm going."

He squeezed her hand. "Let my limo driver take you. I took care of all the details."

"Of course you did. It sounds like a master plan that you have in your playbook."

“Believe me, Belle, with you, the playbook is being completely rewritten.”

She sat there, unsure how to respond. It might be surly if she took it all back now.

He winked. "I told you what I want from you."

She gritted her teeth and tried not to imagine what his kiss would taste like. "Somehow, I think there is more to your interest in me, but I don't want to know what it is."

"We all have imaginations."

She sniffed the air as the scent of oak washed through her, and then she swallowed. "What are you plans for the day without me then?"

"I have to go to work, but then I'll get ready at home. I’ll be at your hotel at eight o’clock."

“I’ll meet you downstairs then.” This was the worst idea of her life. Her friends would see her sitting with one of the richest men in the world and think she had gone off the deep end. Her pulse grew fast, though she rolled her shoulders and neck. "I don't know anything about you. This might not be a good idea."

“You know enough, probably more than most people on their first date.” He patted her arm. "So live a little, Belle Jordan."

"I'll figure you out, Peter."

"Not much to analyze."

Her mouth grew moist like she'd ask for a kiss. She hugged her stomach and glanced at the limo door. "You could probably have anyone that crosses your path. We don't make sense."

He tried to meet her gaze, but she avoided him. "Have faith."

"Faith and I aren't exactly on the best terms."

"Let go of being so defensive then."

Tingles grew all over her as she stood near him. She'd beg for that kiss right now if she thought she'd never see him again. This was so out of her element, and she clenched her hands. One dolphin swim didn't change the facts about her or him.

She stiffened her body and nodded. "See you tonight, with or without my armor. I'll decide that later."

"Belle, you are fascinating. I can't wait to see you tonight."

“Find another word to describe me then. I can’t live up to ‘fascinating’ forever.” He saw that she was settled in a limo, and then he went to another one. He hadn't even made a call. His people took care of every detail of his life.

In a daze, she settled into the seat and closed her eyes. This was something she never could have imagined. The white buildings and the smell of the ocean was everywhere. Time must have sped past her. She licked her lips, and the next thing she realized she was at the door of a fancy hotel.

Parrots squawked and repeated words in the trees. This Christmas was so strange. She stepped outside into the bright summer day, though there were pine decorations splattered in corners. The tropical climate with the lined palm trees did not give her the holiday feel, even if they were wrapped with lights.

She crossed her arms to get her bearings as the limo driver said, "The front desk will have your key, miss."

She should give the driver a tip. She dropped her hands and opened her pocketbook to hand him a few dollars. Luckily she had some cash on hand.

She reached to give it to him. "Okay. Here take this."

He waved his arms in front of him. "I get paid more than enough. I'll be here in case you need to go anywhere."

Every cell in her body was awake and scratchy. She swallowed the urge to argue. "Why?"

"Mr. Morgan pays me to drive his guests."

"Of course he does."

She shook her head. Peter was one of the richest men in the world, even she knew that about him.

She coughed, but instead of saying this was a stupid idea, she nodded and said, "Thanks."

This was entirely too much. She walked inside, and the light piano music that wafted in the airy lobby with thick red carpets gave a sense that she had been transported to someplace meant for extraordinary people. She clutched her well-used, slightly shredding pocketbook.

The vaulted ceilings and bright sunlight were not made for ordinary people like her. She blinked and saw a mahogany front desk. Her shoulders slumped, though she marched over to it.

"I'm Belle Jordan."

The clerk in a red suit nodded. "May I see your identification?"

"Of course." At least procedures never changed. This made him almost normal. She handed him her license. The clerk studied it, typed and then handed her an electric card. "Staff will see you shortly, ma'am."

Staff? Peter had said handlers. She'd said yes because of some strange spell she was under that had started with that unexpected swim. Her simple shorts and tee shirt seemed too casual for this place, but her black dress in the plastic bag had obvious signs of water damage. Her hair was extra frizzy from the ocean. She grimaced.

"Thanks. What is the daily rate I'll be paying while I'm here?"

"Your bill is provided for."

Once again, Peter. “Thanks but I’ll pay for myself when I check out.”

"Ma'am?"

She could walk out on principle. He had said he took care of the guests, which must mean he paid for every out of town guest. It might be a Morgan thing. The last wedding she had been in, she had paid for her own bridesmaid dress. This might be how the one percenters lived, though. She hugged her waist.

Perhaps asking him to be her date tonight had been a huge mistake. This was too rich. She wiggled her nose.

"At what cost?"

"Would you like a copy of the bill at check out?"

"Yes. We'll go from there."

The price of how much she'd owe him for eternity. If her never-used credit card wasn't enough, perhaps she could set up a payment plan.

Besides, how would she explain this room to her friends?

"Very good. Anything else, ma'am?"

Perhaps directions on how to get her soul back. "No, thank you."

She squared her posture and marched with the electric key in hand. As she read her room number, she proceeded to the elevator. As she stared at the buttons, she realized she was on the top floor. The penthouse was always the most expensive.

This was far above the wedding guest offer. She pressed the button and rested her head on the wall. More piano music played as the elevator climbed. Her heart seemed to double in beats with every floor. She held her wrists as the ride finally ended and the doors opened.

The floor seemed ordinary, though there was only one door in the small hallway. She took one ginger step. A moment later, she exited the elevator and her phone rang. Emily's number flashed, and Belle answered it.

"You didn't even want to come to this wedding," Em said.

"I remember."

"You skipped out on the party."

"I did."

"And in twenty-four hours, you, my best friend, become an international woman of mystery in all the newspapers."

"What?"

"Why did you ruin your dress?"

Belle picked up the bottom of the dress in the bag. It was still slightly wet and smelled now. "How did you know?"

She opened the door and held her breath as her friend said, "It's in my news feed and what people have asked me. You were apparently seen wearing Peter Morgan's clothes as you left his yacht."

"He took me to dinner, and I fell in the ocean."

"An unlikely story."

"Yet the truth.”

"I don't even believe you. You’re always steady and strong. And if I don’t buy that, no one else would."

Belle gazed at a two-floor suite with ceilings that appeared to have been hand painted. She went to one side and saw a balcony and a full view of all of whatever part of Miami she was in. She exhaled and ran to the other side of the suite. Yep. There was a second balcony. The spacious living room could have been made for the President of the United States.

She mumbled to her friend, "It's not important."

Em's voice was perky. "You're a disaster out for fun. You did look like you fell into the ocean. Did he fish you out or send a servant?"

"He was in the ocean already." The dolphin had seemed a private moment. She licked her salty lips. "We went swimming."

"In your dress?"

"Yeah, in my dress. I didn't have a swim suit, and he asked me." There was a baby grand piano near the dining room table. Belle fell onto the couch and covered her eyes. "This is too much. The dress didn't cost nearly this much."

"What happened? What's too much?"

She had landed in Oz. As she peeked through her fingers toward a closet, she gasped. "Peter said he'd take care of getting me a new dress. There are designer clothing boxes everywhere in my room."

She couldn't tell Em about this room too. She'd pinch her.

“What!” Instead her friend sounded wistful as she said, "Where are these jewels? We’re the same size. Before you send any back, save me one."

No she wouldn't. She'd tell her to run. Belle stiffened in her seat and prepped for it. "Not jewels. Dresses."

"I got it the first time. I'm sure there is an extra one for me then. Why are you stressing over clothes?"

"I'm not. It's just strange. I agreed to be Peter Morgan's date to this wedding."

"OMG. The Mr. Peter Morgan? I can’t believe you went out with him of all people. He’s the heir to the American dynasty who owns more money than the United States treasury. You have nothing in common. You’re not out for his money and don’t fit into that lifestyle at all."

“He can keep his money as far as I’m concerned.” Perhaps asking him to stand beside her was slightly too much. She had come here for closure, not to date though Em’s statement about her churned in her gut. She pushed her hair behind her ear.

"Now that sounds like you. You're going on a date with Mr. Monopoly."

“Not exactly.” A chuckle escaped her lips. The image didn't fit. "He doesn't wear a top hat."

"You should ask him too on this big date tonight. Is he hot like he seems in his business profile?"

She leaned her head on the back of the couch. Peter's dimples replayed in her mind along with his warm chocolate eyes.

"He's a womanizing charmer. He gets any woman he wants."

"Including you?"

Maybe. A kiss might not be enough but then it usually was. She shook her head.

"No. I'm just saying he's gorgeous, sexy and charming. He's everything I will never want."

"Sounds like every girl's living nightmare, all right. So you are going out with him...why?"

The sarcasm wasn't lost on her, but Belle had no answer. "I didn't want to be alone tonight, so I asked him."

That hadn't sound so pathetic. She closed her eyes.

"You never ask out a man. You never wanted to date again, and now here you are out with the brother of the woman who stole your fiancé?"

Now that was an angle she should have thought of on her own. Belle opened her eyes as she said, "Where are you and the others, Em?"

"We're on some tour. I am clearly not paying attention to the guide. Wish I was closer so I could come find you."

"We're at the same hotel now, I think. Are you staying at the Biltmore with the other wedding guests?"

"Perfect, he hooked you up with a room so you have your friends."

The penthouse wasn’t so she’d be with friends. "This is far nicer than my last minute plans."

"You deserve the best. Colt and that wedding disaster hurt you. You're beautiful both on the inside and out."

Her heart warmed her chest again. "You're just saying that because I'm your friend."

"I want you to have fun. Don't put your heart on the line to be destroyed again. Just relax and enjoy your date."

She pressed her lips together. "What do you mean?"

"You love deeply and never let go. Colt's ex came back from the dead. Don't let that one thing ruin your future. And if you do let Peter into your bed, remember who and what he is. Try to keep that heart of yours out of it."

Heat now expanded into all her limbs. Em was truly her best friend, though sex with Peter Morgan wasn't something she could discuss. Her face prickled from that thought. "Who is he really, though? There is something else going on."

"I don't know. You met him. You're going out with him tonight."

For one moment, he had her believing in the impossible. A cold shower would cure her. "I did. He's guarded. One woman already wants to scratch my eyes out, but I think he's nice."

"Ignore the jealous girl. He's nice?"

It wasn't hard to believe. "Yeah."

"You're a goner already."

No. This was bad enough. "I don't love easily."

"No, but you do love hard. Try to keep everything simple with this guy. He's not normal. Mr. Monopoly isn't someone you can take home to meet your dad. Your dad likes simple answers and wants you to date a mechanic."

Truer words weren't spoken. "See you soon, Em."

"Bye."

Belle marched up the circular stairs and went toward a bedroom. She found her original suitcase and opened it. She placed her mother's picture on the nightstand as she always did, though she wasn't sure she'd stay.

A knock on the door reverberated in the air. Peter leaning against the door right now would be all she needed to pass out on the floor. Belle clutched the handle then opened it to three women.

As she pressed her lips together, all three charged at her. One held a tape measure and one went for her hair as the other studied her. Belle's legs were restless as tingles grew in her chest.

One of the women said, "You'll need to wash so we can prepare you."

No one prepared her, except her. Her insides practically quivered as she tore herself away from them. "Who are you?"

The same one said, "Hair, makeup and clothes. We're here to ensure you are ready for tonight."

Did Hair, Makeup and Clothes use that as their names? Peter shouldn't pay for all this. Belle wrung her hands.

"I can't do my own hair?"

"Not like Nancy can."

Nancy must be the one that had tugged at her hair a minute ago. The one that spoke must be Clothes as she held the tape measure and said, "Did you pick your dress for tonight? Or was there a different designer you'd prefer we get for you? I need to ensure it's a perfect fit in every way."

The boxes were lined up in the front hall. Perhaps she'd only have to spend some of her savings and might return the others. She let out a breath, though she was still a little dizzy. "I've not looked."

Clothes shook her head. "I've hung everything in your closet."

Of course she had. She rested her arms on the table beside her and gazed toward the floor. "My mind is a whirlwind."

"Do you need us to bring in a doctor?" She rushed to open the closet as she said that. Miss Clothes was too much.

Belle held her stomach as she stood. "No. I need everyone to give me a half an hour to take a shower and then come back."

The three women nodded to each other and went to the door. "Yes, miss."

As soon as they left, Belle slammed it shut and rested on it. This dream was out of control. One night with one billionaire did not have to change everything about her.

Chapter Eight

Peter sat in his office and stared at a balance sheet. His fingers ran through his hair as he considered a request from a South American house for more money. The balance sheets read that this house was bought twenty-five years ago. The same year his mother left him. He had a tingle in his chest that this unknown expense was relevant, but his gut feeling made no sense.

He tapped his hands on his desk and ignored how his gut twisted. He had never seen any Morgan Incorporated figures from this part of that country. He swallowed and wrote an email. Please send the merchandise that was held in this place to my office in Miami immediately.

Whatever his father had there was so secure that it was not written on the books anywhere. He pressed his lips together and decided that the mystery would not affect his future plans for the company. Peter tugged at his shirt collar.

Then, as he hit send, his secretary's voice rang in the air, "Mr. Morgan is not to be disturbed."

A disgruntled employee must be outside. Peter fixed his tie as he stood. He closed his laptop. He didn't remember firing anyone, but one of his managers might have. He took a sip of water as he strode out the door.

His eyes widened as he stared at Belle in a pencil black skirt that clung to unknown hips in a shape most women paid for.

His lips parted. "Belle."

She nodded her head as she had her arms crossed. "Peter."

He stroked his chin as he stared at her natural form. She stood with her legs parted and looked sure of herself. His muscles tightened. He had to have her. "You look nice."

Her voice hitched. "I need to speak to you."

He opened his office door wide and smiled. She reminded him of a scared animal that was on the attack at the moment, which was funny. She seemed so hard the first moment he had laid eyes on her. "Of course. Please come in."

She held her arms firm at her stomach as she passed first his secretary and then him without brushing against him. "Is this your office?"

He set his jaw as she gazed out the high-rise window. Her presence alone was a challenge that he'd have to figure out. He spoke to her back as he said, "Yes. This is my main office in Miami."

The door clinked from the secretary's exit. Then she spun on her heels, and her arms flapped to her side. "The suite, the clothes, it's all too much for me."

“No need to be shocked. All the wedding guests are at the Biltmore."

"Not in a penthouse. Peter, it's entirely too much."

"It's not. You're my date tonight. I need to ensure you're safe."

"Safety doesn't include Prada."

"It actually does."

"I was in the Marines. I've led missions. I can take care of myself."

"I believe you."

"Can we call off sitting together at the wedding and go back to the friends plan?"

"I'd prefer not to." A fluttery feeling entered his stomach as he stood near her.

"'Cause if we were friends, it would be easier to tell you no."

"Why bother?" He leaned against his desk. "Belle, you know my life will be in the newspapers no matter what. Don't let trinkets stop us."

"Trinkets? Us?"

She swayed on her feet. He jumped to help her sit. She took his arm, but didn't stare at him.

"I don't know if I can. I've never stayed in a penthouse. I'm used to camping."

"Enjoy the moment then. Belle, I expect the best is provided for me, and I called the hotel. It's my responsibility. Enjoy the room. It's truly not a big deal."

She crossed her legs and stared out the window. "I'm not cut out for any of this."

He smiled and scooted the chair closer to her so their knees brushed. "Sure you are. Join me for lunch since you are here."

Her gaze met hers. "I want to return everything you bought for me."

"Most of the stuff wasn't even bought. They were presents from the companies that make them."

"Why would anyone give you women's clothes?"

"If you wear them, it's advertising."

"I don't know about any of this, Peter."

Her lips would taste sweet. He stared hard into her eyes. "I have a business meeting with a client and his wife. If you're there, perhaps you can speak to the wife, so I can get business handled."

She swallowed and shook her head. "Peter, I buy guns for the military. That means I test all the weapons. I am not the type of girl who entertains the wives at a dinner party. I usually begin with a question on security and end with contract terms acceptable for both the US Military and Century Arms."

He uncrossed his knees. The guns made her more interesting. He'd have to get his secretary to run her background.

"Belle, you'd be doing me a favor. I don't care what you talk about with anyone. Be yourself."

"That's the problem." She closed her eyes. "I don't understand myself with you."

He took her hands in his and waited for her to open her gaze. "You must be hungry."

She didn't take her hand out of his. She stared at his knuckles. "Don't be silly."

Now he had his chance. "It's in your eyes. Is Belle your full name?"

She licked her lips. "Yeah. Belle Sienna Jordan. Peter, I think we should call everything off."

With a thrust of his chest, he winked. "Aren't you interested in that kiss?"

"No." She tugged her hand away and covered her mouth. "I think the ocean water messed with my brain. I said there would be no kissing, and I meant it."

"I remember. I have to wait with you." He reached out and gently nudged her to stand and follow him. "This way."

She stood and took a few steps, but then pulled out of his reach. She shook her head.

"Peter, there has to be some other woman in your life that's more qualified—"

He interrupted. "This isn't a job interview, Belle. It's just lunch."

"And dinner and swimming in the ocean with dolphins."

"You think too much."

“It’s a trait we both share.” She massaged the middle of her forehead. Peter wondered what she intended to do now, so he could counter.

“Okay.” Her voice grew louder as she said, "It's just lunch. It's just a date. It's just hair, makeup and clothes at the door. Peter, I work for a living, and nothing is just anything. There is a reason for everything."

"Wow. I thought I was jaded."

"So?"

"Belle, sometimes you have to let go to enjoy."

"I'm not good at that I guess. I joined the Marines at age eighteen and earned my degree while serving. I'm not a girly girl and have never done light chitchat. This isn't me."

He stopped and stared hard at her. His heart beat so loud in his ears. Her skin would be soft and touchable. To pretend what she said didn't dig under the skin, he leaned closer and licked his lips.

"Perhaps it's what makes you fascinating. You are not like the others."

"You used that word again." She shook her head.

"I guess I have." He swallowed. She pressed her lips together, and he lowered his gaze to her lips. "We can make this about business?" If he kept this light, then she'd relax.

"How?"

He kept his hands at his sides and pretended he was his usual confident self. "Perhaps I'll have you speak to my security and recommend any upgrades they might need."

Her gaze shot up. "I broker deals for the military, not civilians, and your company came across my desk as a cooperative effort for a military contract."

"You know what the best is then." Her lips would taste sweet, perhaps like red delicious apples. "Can you relax and accept?"

She massaged her neck. "I'm all mixed up."

This was it. She'd stay if she opened up a little. The flutters in his chest grew.

"What would help you straighten everything out without kicking me to the curb?"

With a half smile, she gazed into his eyes. "I'd have to be comfortable near you, and I don't see that happening."

"Denial can be a problem." Every muscle in his body tightened, and he exhaled through his mouth. "Comfortable comes from time and experience, which comes after you ask for that kiss."

"You don't give up." She averted her gaze and wrung her hands. "And it would probably make this even worse for me."

That might have pushed her too far, but he kept his chin up. "I won't mention it again."

"You mention it all the time." She crossed her arms. "And who knows, maybe you're right."

His mouth moistened, and his fingers ached to touch her. He brushed his hands against hers.

"What?"

She swallowed and then closed her eyes. "Peter Morgan, please kiss me."

A camera crew calling out, ‘this was a set up' wouldn't have stopped him, not that anything happened. People in business suits in the lobby walked past them. He wrapped his hands in hers and led her to the empty first floor office.

"Belle, come this way."

She stumbled at first, but he had a grip on her. She didn't fall. He flipped on the lights and locked the door.

She spun on her heels in the empty office. "Where are we?"

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she stopped moving as heat coursed through her. "Alone."

He was lightheaded from the apple scent as he leaned down. Her lips parted and warmness filled him. She tasted exactly as she should. He loved apples. Belle fit perfect in his arms, and he tightened his hold on her, deepening the kiss. The rest of the world faded to black.

Chapter Nine

Nothing made sense. Belle's arms were wrapped around Peter's shoulders, and she pressed her lips to his for another kiss. There was something manly and full of testosterone that made him taste far better than anyone else, including Colt.

Electricity charged through her veins. He was everything a woman could ever desire in a man. A shiver rushed through her as she detangled her limbs from around his back.

She sighed and swallowed. "Peter, this was a mistake."

He blinked, but his hands fell to his sides. "A kiss?"

Too hot to handle kisses were not in the cards for her. She swallowed, and the taste of him lingered.

"That was only a kiss to you? I felt fireworks and that's bad."

"Fireworks are bad?"

"Yes."

"You're confusing." He leaned against the door. "Belle, it's not bad to be attracted to each other."

Every cell in her body yelled she ought to rip her clothes off and find out what would happen next. She'd never been this carnal about any man. It wasn't like her. She averted her gaze and made her hands into fists.

"Not bad for you. It's a horrible idea for me."

"Why?"

The question made her glance at him. She swayed on her feet. His brown eyes were like a rich dark chocolate that her insides quivered to taste. "For one, you're Colt's brother."

"Yes, he’ll be my brother-in-law tonight, that cannot be changed."

She squared her shoulders. "I fully intended to pretend Victoria and Colt never existed in my life for the next hundred years."

He scratched his chin and stood straighter. "I thought you forgave them. You came to this wedding for closure."

"I did and then the plan was to pretend they never existed, Peter."

“Forgive them and forgive yourself.”

She had come to their wedding because the fire inside her would continue to eat at her if she stayed mad. Songs about loss and losing love were on her playlist for the next year. She had intended to have a good long wallow.

"Look, I'm trying, but forgiveness and seeing things thrown in my face are two different things. I hadn't moved on yet."

"Is there any other reason other than Victoria and Colt?"

Not if he continued to stare at her with those big saucer eyes. She unclenched her hands and straightened her blouse and skirt.

"Yes. It's more important to me that our lives don't mesh. You're a fancy dinner, and at the end of the day, I'm hot dogs, beer, and a bag of M&Ms."

His tapped his finger to his lips. "M&Ms?"

Mouth-watering delicious kisses from that mouth of his sent a twinge down her spine. She'd not feed that craving. She fixed her hair behind her ear.

"The candy was created for American soldiers, so they had a sugar rush while invading Europe. I don't know anything other than war and how to prepare to fight in one. It's why I work for Century Arms."

"Belle, you are trembling."

Her legs were wobbly. This wasn't good. She widened her stance. "There is more."

"M&Ms are one of my favorite candies." He licked his lips. "And an attraction between two consenting adults means we get to live on the edge and see where the spark leads. It doesn't have to be more than that."

The empty walls needed a portrait, so she could stare at it and not at him. A distraction would stop the flutters in her chest.

"There is something in the air that goes into my brain, and I keep seeing a flashing sign to not trust you."

His cheeks blushed. "I don't know what to say."

"Okay, I'll bend. I want to go to the wedding tonight, and not let myself panic. But no more fancy gifts."

He shrugged. "We can have lunch? I am hungry."

A whirlwind spun in her mind. She took his arm and pressed her lips together. "Okay, let's go. I have luxuries at the hotel waiting for me upon my return."

He unlocked the door and escorted her into the hallway. None of the business people that rushed past them noticed anything unusual. She lifted her head as they walked toward a restaurant next door.

"Victoria decided to open a dress shop and take over a fashion empire. Handlers for people who want her good favor send free clothes all the time."

“That’s why you had women’s clothes on speeddial.” She swallowed as the staff escorted Peter to a table in the corner. "But why did you tell me that, now?"

“Trust.” He waited for her to sit and then sat next. "Because you seem to care where the money comes from, and I don't want you to worry. The suite you're staying in is already leased to my company in case I need to fly anyone in, ever."

"You could have said that earlier too." The lightheadedness she felt near Peter meant she should never drink. She gazed at the menu and not at him. "Okay, so the clothes didn't cost you anything."

"No, I didn't spend a dime, but I want to make sure you're prepared for when people speculate about us. Would you like to look at the menu?"

She'd be the girl people stared at in the checkout line. A few of the faces of those celebrity photos of some of the most gorgeous people in the world also had poses of the same celebrity looking hideous. The last thing she ever wanted was to be one of them.

Her toes tapped on the floor. Her thoughts were vain, and she intended to change this topic. She gazed up from her menu and stared at the door.

"I thought we were meeting someone?"

He reached into his back pocket and stared at his phone screen. Then he put it away and gazed into her eyes. "They aren't here. My secretary texted that they have rescheduled for coffee later."

She had come to call this whole thing off with him. She half closed her menu. "So do you want to stay?"

"With you, yes."

The waitress brought bread and water. She shrugged. "I'll order some sort of chicken or salmon. I need something light and not heavy if I'm to fit into something form fitting."

The waitress nodded. "I suggest the salmon, ma'am. It's wild, not farmed, and it practically falls off the fork."

For this one moment, Belle's mind cleared. She nodded. "Perfect."

Peter offered the waitress a smile. She kicked the table, though he simply said, "Make that two."

Belle's cheeks pricked like she blushed as the waitress bounced away saying, "I'll be back with your orders."

Peter stared at her, and the heat in her skin grew everywhere. "So you're calm about tonight?"

She gulped her entire glass of water. It didn't cool her insides. Her legs were restless and almost brushed against his under the table.

"I guess. Why do you want to spend all this time with me?"

He broke the bread and offered her a piece. "Most people don't fascinate me."

“Again!” What might she say that made any sense? She shook her head, but then took the bread. "Lose that word when you talk about me. I don't know what that means."

He nodded. "Belle Jordan, you and I might not make sense on paper, but I don't care. You're opinion on things makes you the most unashamed and honest woman I've met in a long time."

There must be a blush on her face now. She couldn't meet his gaze. "Thank you, but I'm just being myself."

The waitress brought out the salmon plates and left. She dared to glance at him, and he frowned.

He waited until they were alone and said, "Don't thank me."

"Why not?"

"There is something I should admit."

She leaned against her seat. She saw how his eyebrows darted. She dropped her napkin in her lap and tilted her head.

"You're a strange one. Whatever it is, just spit it out, so we can keep this peace that is growing between us."

"You expect honesty and give it in return."

A smile broke on her face and then she covered her lips to hide it. "True, so what is it that makes you seem guilty?"

"Guilty? That's not it." His gaze narrowed. "I don't know right now. You confuse me."

This was perhaps the most elegant two dates of her life, and the pinnacle moment came tonight. She'd go through with this. Reality could wait till after the holidays.

"At least it's not just me then. I can toast to that."

He ran his hand through his hair. "Belle, tomorrow, after the wedding, there is something we have to discuss."

She swallowed as tingles on her lips grew again from how he stared at her. She nodded, but then said, "The no kissing rule is back on, then. There is something I have to figure out."

"Deal. Not unless you ask."

She licked her lips, but this wasn't nearly what she wanted. Instead she chose her fork and gritted her teeth. "I used to make fun of girls who wanted all these things. Now here I am."

"I'll pick you up from the hotel tonight. Will you be ready by eight?"

This was it. She was going. Christmas Eve for a wedding would make everything better. She blinked and let her body stilled. Then she met his gaze.

"Sure."

Her word was all she had to give. There was no going back.

Chapter Ten

The trio of hair, makeup and clothes all rushed out of her room at quarter to eight. The red Valentino dress she wore might cost more than a few months' paychecks. The Christmas-themed wedding meant she could wear this vibrant color. She had skipped the prom back in high school, so this was her big moment.

She let out a giggle as she gazed out her balcony to the white lights that circled palm trees. The night air still had a tinge of warmness to it, and she stared into the distance at the waterfall and the party of people who drank on a patio with jazz music that floated to her window. Whoever those people were, they seemed to be having fun.

As she made her way inside, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She stepped closer to truly see what had happened to her. Her once frizzy mop of hair was now smooth, and she almost seemed glamorous. Julia Robert's dress in Pretty Woman seemed so old fashioned compared to the gown Belle now modeled. The most surprising thing of all, though, was how the makeup didn't change her entirely. Belle saw a glimpse of herself, but all the skin flaws she sported everyday were gone.

She glanced at the time. Peter would be here soon. She rushed to get her phone and wish Em a Merry Christmas. She hoped she liked the selection of dresses she had sent, but she had never called to confirm.

The phone rang and a moment later, Em said, "Belle, can I keep all of these?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Em squealed.

Belle sent a selfie through the phone and bit her lip.

A moment later Em said, "Oh my goodness. You will steal the bride's thunder."

She backed into the wall. "I should change then."

"Don't you dare. She stole your fiancé and then invited you to witness it. Let him eat his heart out."

Belle ran her hand over her hair. She didn't want to knot anything and ensured her fingers didn't mess anything up too badly.

"Colt loves Victoria. I don't hate people for following their hearts."

"Even though it ripped yours out and then sent it through a blender?"

She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. "Did it? If it did, how did I wind up here?"

"You had me as your best friend for one."

Belle covered her lips, but then whispered how she felt, "True. Em, my heart is racing."

"Why?"

The concern made her heartbeat echo louder. She closed her eyes. "'Cause Peter will be here in a moment."

"Your big date with the billionaire who is on track to be one of the first trillionaires?"

Her eyes widened, and she couldn't even blink. "What?"

"I read a Wall Street Journal article on him today. I'll come over for a selfie with you both. Don't ignore me."

"I would never." Her stomach knotted. "And thanks for making me jitterier."

"Don't you dare. You look like you could handle a trillionaire tonight."

A dress and a hair style didn't change who she was on the inside. Belle clenched her hands and leaned on a table.

"I'm a fraud."

"No more than any other woman there tonight, hoping to catch his attention."

She pushed herself off the table, and fumbled with her pocketbook. "Why am I doing this? I should be at the table with you and the boys."

"Me and the boys will get a glimpse of you all dressed up. We're excited to see your hot date."

A calmness took hold of her body. Belle unclenched her hands and sat on the couch. "My life is so not its norm right now. I am glad you're around, even if we have missed each other."

"Just don't fall in love."

The words fell out of her mouth without a filter. "I don't have a heart, remember? If I did, I'd be devastated and not here, at this wedding."

"Or you like pretending you don't."

She sat straight, but then a knock rang in the air. She glanced at the clock, and it read exactly eight o'clock. Belle stood.

"Em, I have to go."

"I'll see you tonight."

Friends were a good reality check. Her knuckles cracked as she crossed the floor to the door.

"Perfect, I'll see you then."

She ended the call and threw the phone in her pocketbook. Perhaps she shouldn't answer holding her bag, but there was no place to lay it down. She clutched it and threw open the door.

Peter stood there in a gray tuxedo and held a box in his hands. Her fingers itched to grab his collar and tug him into her room for a long kiss. She shook off the visual. Lightheadedness remained though she tried to steady her feet.

"You look nice, Peter."

He lifted the box in his hand. "You need a few more things."

Clearly their thoughts didn't align, which was good. The no kissing rule had to stay for now. She licked her lips and stared at the box that obviously held jewelry.

"We agreed no more presents that make me uncomfortable."

He opened the box and diamonds glittered brighter than the moon outside her window. "Then tonight, when we're done, give them back to me. Consider this a loan."

"I swear you are looking for my price tag. If you are, jewels and clothes aren't it."

"What would be?"

"I don't know, opening your heart and being vulnerable."

Peter followed her into the suite larger than her apartment at home. "You drive a hard bargain."

"You have no idea."

The lightness moved to her chest as she fingered the diamond necklace. It was thicker than anything she'd ever worn.

"Tomorrow can we have brunch?"

He shoved the box into her hand.

She blinked. “Why would you want to meet me tomorrow?”

“You know why.”

"That's right. You had to tell me something." Adrenaline rushed through her. "Or you could skip the anticipation and anxiety and tell me now."

"No. Tomorrow is better. Tonight's my sister's wedding."

She stared at the inside cover of the box and recognized the name, Harry Winston. "Fair enough, though honesty is always the best policy."

"Your world and mine are different. I find very few honest people in the world."

She needed a mirror for the clasp. "Give me a minute."

As she walked away, she saw how his shoulders slumped. She fastened the earrings and attempted to clasp the necklace. The latch didn't work, and Peter's strong fingers brushed against her neck as he locked the necklace.

Her face had tinges of red in it from a blush, so she turned from the mirror and stared into his sexy brown eyes. The smell of oak and the tingle of his kiss earlier made every cell in her body alive.

"How does it look?"

"Perfect."

As she stared into his gaze, she saw a kaleidoscope of color. She turned her head toward the ground. Then Peter lifted his elbow.

"Give me your arm."

Her arm wrapped around his arm and followed him to the door. As he opened it, she swallowed. "Okay. Peter, I'm scared and I’m never scared of any situation."

“At some point, we’re all out of our natural element.” He slowed his pace. "You’ll be fine though. You’re a tough as nails Marine who saved the groom's life, remember?"

"I wasn't wearing anything like I am tonight."

"Underneath, you are the same."

"Glad you think so."

She pressed the elevator button. This honesty she had near him was like she had no filter. She should. He was supposed to be reserved and a womanizer. Yet she couldn't stop.

She sighed. "I don't want to make a fool of myself, tonight."

He led her inside the elevator as the sound of jazz music grew louder. Her heart hammered with the sound of the saxophone as he said, "It's a wedding. Once we get inside, all eyes are on the bride."

“Good.” A kiss would send her right into orbit. She pressed her lips together to not say that. "You're right."

"And you did promise to dance with me, so that should be fun."

The elevator dinged as she lifted her eyebrows. "I agreed to be your date. We didn't say dancing."

His wink was hypnotic. "It's part of being my date."

Tomorrow always comes. She'd live for today. "I suppose the agreement can be amended."

"Always contracts and agreements with you. Let's have fun."

As they crossed through the lobby, and she stayed on his arm, the mouths of people around them fell open. Despite how she thought something was going on with him, she let her guard down. She turned to stare at his profile.

"People are staring."

"You're beautiful. It happens to women like you."

The prettiest words. She knew better than to let fantasy mess with her reality, but she licked her lips.

"Hardly. Just hold my hand and let's get to the limo."

He lowered his arm and took her hand. His fingers laced with hers, and her heart thumped. For one night, she'd drop her guard. He was right that she never let herself have fun.

He said, "This way."

Her breath hitched as she scooted inside the limo. He slid in seamlessly after her. "Peter."

"What?"

Impulses couldn't be stopped at the moment. She came closer to him as the driver took off. Her hand brushed against his face as she said, "I'm going to kiss you on the cheek, but don't take it as anything more than that."

Her lips met his skin and melted her. With him, she felt safe and in a home she'd never had. She slumped into her seat and tried to stare out the window.

His hand landed on top of hers. "I stopped believing women like you existed."

"Like me, how?"

"Good, honest, trustworthy types. I never met many and the ones I do meet are usually already married."

Words were not supposed to melt her. She had to remember she had no heart, so she shouldn't be like this. Her knees knocked against his thigh as she stared at him.

"Stop hanging out with women that pretend to be anything you want."

His mouth fell open. "How do you know that's what happens?"

"I'm usually called ‘over-opinionated’ or much worse when someone doesn't like my opinions, but you seem to find them interesting."

"Belle Jordan, you're nothing like I expected."

She wasn't like herself with him. She was softer. This was strange.

"What did you expect of me?"

"A jealous, woman-hating military brat who would shoot my sister on sight for what happened."

She crossed her arms. "You clearly don't know enough about the people who are in the military. Peter, most people there have hearts that are so big they wish to protect the rest of us."

"I will host a charity event in your honor for veterans on New Year's then."

She dropped her arms to her side, and his hand found hers again almost immediately. Electricity ran through her veins.

"What?"

"I'd like you to spend the rest of the holidays with me."

She covered her lips. This was too much. "Peter, I don't know what to say."

"Say yes."

“Let me think about it.” The echoes of an orchestra played with her heart strings. She stared into his brown eyes and then averted her gaze. Something tore at her to not trust him and another part of her heart whispered to bend. "My friend Em and the other boys from the Marines will be here tonight."

"Colt's friends, I imagine." His fingers squeezed hers. "I'm with you, and that's all that matters."

The limo stopped near a red carpet. At least she'd blend with the floor. She licked her lips as the limo driver said, "We're here."

Peter didn't open the door. He stared at her lips. She tingled and wished for another kiss. He licked his lips and then said, "Belle, you know you want to. Will you stay and spend New Year's with me?"

"That wasn’t enough time. Why don't we get that brunch tomorrow and discuss it then?"

"Fair enough." He opened the door and lights flashed. This was what happened to almost trillionaires she supposed. She squared her shoulders. "Let's get inside."

As she latched onto his arm, people swarmed them to take photos. The lights blinded her, and she leaned on him to get her away from the crowd. As the doors closed behind them, she tried to see. All she remembered from that last minute was the sense of being home in Peter's arm.

Chapter Eleven

The wedding of an ex-fiancé should never be fun. Belle found her seat, and two state senators swarmed to gather around her, and the governor introduced himself. Peter excused himself to go find his sister and walk her down the aisle.

Belle nodded at everyone until she realized she sat in front of the former president of the United States. Her job in Washington never had her in front of the important people. She held onto the pew so she'd stay on her feet.

The entrance music for the bride started, and she stared at the aisle.

First Colt came out with John, Peter's brother, who stood right next to him at the front of the church.

All gazes returned to the back and waited for Vicki to make her grand appearance, though she stared at Colt.

Belle's heart felt nothing. He was her friend first, and his smile said he was happy. She swallowed and stared at the bride again.

Jennifer, the woman who had confronted her at the party the other night, passed her in the aisle. Their gazes met, and Belle assumed the woman knew Peter well. It was the gleam in her eye and the coldness that rushed through her that gave it away.

She took a deep breath and saw the next woman walk out. John's wife, Alice had a smile that would start the Fourth of July fireworks. Belle hugged her stomach. She'd never been as happy as that woman was.

Then the march began. Belle's mouth fell open as she stared at how Peter walked with his sister. The blonde, blue-eyed woman's gaze stayed on Colt, but Belle couldn't blink at the bride for more than a second. Peter Morgan was handsome. Butterflies grew in her stomach as he passed her.

This was a dream. He then took a spot on the altar next to John.

The bride and groom held hands, and the priest spoke about love.

Belle's mouth watered as she stared at Peter's lips. Part of her wanted to give in and let herself see where the spark inside her would lead. She was old enough, though her mind clouded with the thought that she should hold off until he confessed whatever it was he planned to tomorrow. There was something she hadn't put her finger on yet that mattered.

As she sat, she crossed her legs.

The governor said, "Is it true you represent Century Arms?"

"It is. I work on the Hill for them and secure the best possible weapons for our military."

"Not the type of girl I expect to see with Mr. Morgan."

“Peter’s a smart man.” Another reminder that they didn't match. She nodded but then her gaze returned to Peter. He stared at her, and her entire body seemed to float in air.

The priest then said, "You may now kiss the bride."

Belle licked her own lips and stared at Peter. Tonight, she'd ask for the kiss and more. Caution was for every other day of her life.

The bride and groom raced down the aisle and people clapped.

She lost sight of Peter in the rush. Everyone filed out of the church so she followed the crowd.

A moment later, Jennifer stood at her side. "I see you and Peter are still talking to each other."

This woman clearly had intentions. Belle hardened her stance. "It's not your business."

Jennifer whispered in her ear, "Peter has issues being faithful. It's why I moved on."

Belle stepped away from being that close to her. She crossed her arms and protected her personal space. "So you and he are no longer together?"

Jennifer winked. "He has money, but he has trust issues with women. You'll find out."

Her foot tapped, and it echoed on the church floor. "Thank you for your advice. Talk to you later."

Jennifer invaded her personal space as she leaned closer. "Don't give him your heart. He'll break it and not look back."

At the party, Jennifer had been with another guy. Belle shook her head. "I should go find my friends. It was nice talking to you again, Jennifer."

"Jennifer, Rafe is looking for you." Peter's arm brushed against her back, and Belle turned toward him. "Is everything okay here?"

"Perfect."

Again those butterflies grew inside her as she stared at his profile. He wrapped his arms around her waist and dragged her away from Jennifer.

"You still smell like apples."

"I smell like apples?" She sniffed the air and didn't smell anything fruity. All she smelt was his woodsy scent.

As they crossed the threshold and stood on the church steps outside in the sun, Peter dropped his hand from her waist and took her hand.

"Let's head to the reception. I'm looking forward to that dance."

Right now, she'd agree to anything. She licked her lips. Her heart echoed in her chest that she needed to seize today.

"Peter, whenever you feel the moment, if you feel it that is, I would like for you to kiss me again tonight."

His lips parted, and he led her back inside the church. Others filed past them, and Peter stopped to nod his head in hello.

He kept the pace as best he could and said, "Come this way."

Her cheeks tingled as they maneuvered in the mob. "Yeah."

He led her inside a small side door, where the noise of the hallway lessened. Adrenaline pumped in her veins now, but it shifted a pang in her heart as she stared at his broad shoulders.

"Why do you say that when we're in a crowd?"

Makeup, hairspray and every other type of female product lay around the room. Her gaze narrowed. "Where are we?"

He wrapped his arms around her sides again and every cell in her body came alive.

"The bridal suite. My sister's gone now."

Her lips puckered and she inhaled his manly scent. "Why?"

His mouth was less than a fraction of an inch from hers. "I wanted to kiss you in private."

Something inside her burst as she kissed him. Her hands wrapped around his waist, and it felt like she flew to a different planet. Her heart soared.

He rested his head on the top of hers and hugged her. Their heartbeats was all that she heard. The church sounded quiet and undisturbed outside the door now.

Despite how she wanted to take him to her hotel and have her way with him, she sighed. "Let's get going."

His hand brushed against the fabric of her dress. If she had her way, he'd take the whole outfit off her, but that was silly. Now was not a good time. He licked his lips as she detangled herself.

"I'd like to stay here with you."

“You can’t.” Responsibilities mattered, and her brain screamed at her not to trust him, not yet. Her heart constricted and she let go. She straightened her dress and checked her hair. "I'm sure you have to have to dance with your sister. Can I ask a personal question?"

He nodded and adjusted his own tuxedo. "Sure."

Once she settled her appearance, she took his arm. If he didn't trust women, the problem likely stemmed from his childhood.

"What happened to your mother?"

His entire body stiffened. "She left us."

The thunder in her heart slowed her step. She massaged his arm as she knew she found his emotional sore spot.

"What?"

They went outside again, and they were the only ones left in the church. He led her town a path.

"Before Vicki turned one, Mom walked away. We never saw her again."

She covered her lips. "That's horrible."

He shrugged. "What about your parents? Are they still alive?"

She had figured her turn was next, and that he'd want to change the topic. She started the conversation. They followed a gravel pathway that led to a patio made of stone. Servants wore white jackets and people were already on the dance floor.

"My dad is on a cruise with my stepmother."

He patted her hand as if offering her comfort. He was sweet as he asked, "And your mother?"

She brushed her hair behind her ear. "She died."

"I'm sorry."

The low softness of his voice said he meant it. She swallowed. Peter Morgan was the opposite of what he said about himself.

She licked her lips. "Why? I don't remember her. For a long time, it was just the two of us."

They walked up a few stone steps and joined the party. A waiter offered them champagne on a platter. "It sounds like you like your father."

Jennifer glared at them, and Belle turned her head so she wouldn't see her. The last thing she needed was doubt. She kept her hand on Peter's arm.

"He did his best with me."

Peter walked them to a table and set the drinks on there. She let go of her glass, so he could do the same with hers as he said, "My father did what was in his own best interest."

Her lips parted. "That's horrible to say."

Peter's lips curled as he stared over her head. "It's true. Everyone says I'm just like him. He raised me to be."

Her heart echoed in her chest. "I didn't know your dad. How am I supposed to see you?"

"Self-serving, controlling, vengeful, manipulating, ruthless and cunning."

"Absolutely untrue." She licked her lips. "Peter Morgan, you are way too hard on yourself."

He hugged her waist. His hands on hers distracted her. "I like that you say that."

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. "You're a good man. One day I'll have to prove it to you."

He stepped forward, and she shifted away. "For now, can I have that dance?"

She twirled out of a hug and followed him. "Absolutely."

The soft sounds of an orchestra played in the fading sunlight. The nighttime would be here soon. Then all that would be left was the two of them. Right now she spun in his arms and that was all that mattered.

Chapter Twelve

The stars were out in full force, along with the Christmas-themed lights on the patio. His sister's wedding went off as a success just as a princess would have desired. Peter led Belle toward his table and went to find his sister at the appointed hour for their brother and sister dance. As the oldest, he'd escort her, but as he went to find Vicki, his gaze stayed on Belle. She sat still as the music played.

His sister elbowed him and then took his hand. They walked together to the middle of the dance floor. People stood to take pictures as he led his sister into a waltz.

She licked her lips. "Do you like Belle?"

He tightened his frame and glanced at Belle. She spoke to the old senator. Then he gazed at his sister.

"Vicki, she is different."

Her eyebrows lifted. "How?"

He swallowed, and the words just came out. "I haven't figured out her price. She's honest, forthright, and unlike any other woman I've ever kissed."

"You kissed her?"

He jerked her in the move. "I can't believe I said that."

His sister pinched him. "I don't care about the percent in the company and that stupid bet you made. I want you to find a girl who can make your life happy."

This wasn't what they should discuss. His collar felt tight. The bet made his stomach turn as he thought about it.

"I am happy."

She pressed on his back to ensure he didn't fall out of step. "No, you were not. You can be obstinate. You spent so much time with our father, and we were all scared you'd follow his path."

He was too much like his father. His stomach hardened. "What did you think I'd do?"

She smiled at him. "Ruin people's lives. Marry someone you can control. Tell your children how to live their lives. Force your will upon them, no matter how much they disagreed. Basically repeat our childhood."

All the reasons anyone like Belle should not be with him. That was why he didn't sleep much. "You thought that about me?"

Then Vicki's chin trembled, but she tightened her grip. "I was afraid of that for you, but I never gave up on you. You're my brother, and you watched out for me."

"I didn't do enough."

The music ended. He escorted her as people cheered. Then the music changed, and Colt led his mother to the dance floor. He held his sister's hand so they could watch this part of the marriage custom. Peter pressed his lips together.

"I'm sure you meant well, but right now I feel like dirt."

She waved for their other brother. Peter's cheeks felt warm as she said, "Dirt doesn't feel, and you're part of my family. If Belle is as wonderful as you say, then don't let her go."

Again he glanced at his table, and three men who worked for him circled Belle. His muscles stiffened.

"Thanks."

Vicki glanced in the direction he had stared. Peter saw clearly that she had understood as their brother approached.

"John, come here." Colt was half done with his dance with his mother. "Tell Peter you want to forget about the bet, so he can date Belle for real."

Peter’s jaw dropped. "Tell her what?"

"You can tell her that you like her." Vicki shrugged.

John crossed his arms. "Wait. What?"

Vicki nodded her head to get their brother to agree. "He likes her, only he's having a hard time because of the bet."

She had the tactics of their father too. Peter tugged on his ear and deliberately didn't glance at Belle for more than a second. Another man joined her at the table, and they all laughed at something she said.

John didn't notice anything and stared at him. "Are you sure? Or if we say to forget it, will he drop her off at the airport tomorrow and never see her again?"

That was an idea. Peter licked his lips. Belle might be better off without him, and she must have her price. He'd eventually see it. Either way, she deserved better than to be the subject of this bet nonsense. She'd hate him. His jaw was clenched, and he had a slight pain.

"I'll send the papers over in the morning to give Vicki ten percent of the stocks. I don't want to go near Belle again under false pretenses."

Vicki's hands went to her hips. "I won't accept. John, tell Peter to forget about the stupid bet and that he can date Belle."

Peter tugged his sister's hands to lower her stance. She was the bride.

John then nodded. "Of course. Peter, we wanted you with a good woman. We're happy for you. Bring her over to our house Christmas afternoon for lunch."

Now that the bet was over, his heart lifted in his chest. He swallowed and said, "I'll ask her. And thanks."

As he walked away, and his sister went to dance with her new husband, he stared at Belle. He hadn't intended to take her anywhere. The men around her all cleared a path for him.

Belle then grinned at Peter as he slumped into the seat beside her. He glanced at the other men, and they all took off. Belle's lips parted as she noticed, but then she stared at him.

She tilted her head and said, "You spent a lot of time with your family. Are you okay?"

The promise he had made swam in his head. He scooted his seat closer to her as he said, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Brunch with you." She blinked but didn't move. "Plus my friend Em and I want to go shopping."

He unclenched his hands and brushed his arm against hers. Electricity surged in him. "John is having a Christmas party in the afternoon. I'd like you to be my date."

She covered her parted lips with her hand. "What about Em?"

Good. She must have agreed. Belle was impulsive. His heartbeat grew stronger.

"Is she single?"

Her gaze narrowed. "Yeah, why?"

There was nothing to worry about. He licked his lips. "There will be single men, most with wealth. I'll make sure she's introduced to everyone."

She crossed her arms and brushed against him. "Em's not interested in a man for his wallet size. She's like me."

Everyone has a price. The thought hit him hard, and he flinched. He hadn't quite figured Belle out yet. He cupped his chin and leaned closer. The smell of apples grew and wet his appetite.

"This is why I find you so attractive. You think everyone is good and kind."

She dropped her hands to her side, but didn't push him away. She swept a piece of hair behind her ear. "She's my friend. I know her."

He shrugged and leaned away from her. "Then you'll come and let her enjoy herself. If she hates all of them, we'll send her to a dive, and she can meet poor men to her heart's content."

His brother, John, and his wife, Alice, both flashed him the thumbs up sign. His skin heated as Alice said, "Bets are for children. I can't believe you'd do that John."

They began to weave through the crowd closer to them. He licked his lips. Belle might hate him if she found out, and he never should have made a bet about her price. He had to act fast.

He stood and held out his hand, "Does that mean you won't dance with me again?"

John and Alice were closer. His heartbeat grew erratic, but then Belle squeezed his arm as she stood. "Of course I will, but your sister is getting ready to throw the bouquet."

He turned and saw his sister motioning with the bouquet. "All the single ladies please step forward."

His hands brushed against her side as she walked away, he said, "Come back soon."

Belle hid her smile and walked into the crowd of women on the dance floor.

His brother and his wife were close. As he turned to sit, Jennifer bumped into him. He swallowed as she whispered in his ear, "Are you enjoying your little date?"

Again he glanced at Belle as she hung toward the back. She had no intention of catching the flowers. He inhaled, but her apple scent was quickly replaced with perfume.

He grimaced. "She's different than anyone I've ever met."

Jennifer practically purred like a cat as she stepped in front of him to block his view of Belle. "Peter, I was hoping, after all the hoopla is over that you might take me to Paris. We can get coffee in that café we liked."

Her hands pressed against his, but he pulled his hand away. "Jennifer, you have a boyfriend.”

“He’s not...”

No. He didn’t need to know. So he interrupted. “I am happy for you. You should go and catch the bouquet with the rest of them."

Thankfully his brother and Alice came. He instantly shook his brother's hand.

"Peter, what's happening?" John asked.

"Is she gone?" He mouthed to Alice. She nodded, and he took a deep breath. "She caught me by surprise."

Alice peeked around Peter and smiled. "Belle caught the bouquet."

"What?" He turned to see Belle. She stood there with her mouth open, and her skin was alabaster white.

"Belle's perfect. Go. Talk to you later."

He walked toward Belle, and then picked her up and spun her around. Belle pressed her head into his chest for a second, and the smell of apples came back. Her natural beauty outshone everyone here.

After everyone clapped for Belle, the music started again. Couples came forward to dance. He held out his hand and offered to dance with her. She held the bouquet in the hand she placed on his upper arm.

"The rest of the night, I'm all yours, Belle. All my duties are complete."

She averted her gaze and stared out at the ocean beyond the stone patio. He twirled her around, unsure what she thought.

Then she said, "As you were dancing, another senator slipped me his card and told me to fit him into my schedule once Congress is back in session."

She must be shy right now. He held her in the dance and spun her around. "That's great."

She swallowed. "Were you talking to Jennifer?"

Caught. He sucked in his breath at the question about his ex-girlfriend. "She came over."

Her big brown eyes then met his, and she never blinked. "And?"

He tightened his hands in the frame of the dance. "I told her I was happy with you."

With a lift of her chin, her gaze had the ability to silence a school boy or anyone that crossed her path. "That must have gone over like a bag of rocks."

"I don't understand."

He twirled her again. She didn't back down from what she had to say. "Jennifer warned me that you don't trust easy, but I think she wants you."

"Jennifer is the past and that's it." Belle's brown eyes didn't blink. He swallowed and finished, "She was in my life when I didn't want to feel anything."

“That emotion and I are acquainted.” Her eyebrow lifted. "And now? What’s different in your life?"

Belle seemed like she intended to fight him if he answered wrong. He flashed her a smile. "I’m here, with you, and there is no competition."

Her face softened. He swallowed. At least she didn't demand his allegiance. He might have given it to her. He almost lost his step.

Then she stood on her tip toes, tugged his shoulder closer to her, and whispered in his ear. "Take me home."

He licked his lips. Belle Jordan might be the best or the worst woman in his life at the moment, not that he had anyone else on his radar. She took his breath away. She stared at him like he was an idiot.

He lingered too long. To cover he said, "What did you have in mind?"

She rubbed the base of her neck near her chest. The music stopped. "The wedding is basically over. It's time to go now."

"Of course."

He led her off the dance floor, and they walked in silence to the door. No one stopped them.

As they exited through the glass doors that led to the front of the building and toward the limo, Belle squeezed his arm. "And Peter, one more thing."

He slowed his pace. He swallowed. "What?"

She said, almost in a whisper, "I'll want another kiss. I was jealous."

Outside people spoke on the veranda and waited in groups. He wrapped his arm around her waist to ensure she stayed near, and then said, "No one else will be in the room, mentally or physically, when I kiss you again."

She winked. "Deal."

It might have been her wink. She was charming and forthright and nothing about her seemed false. She was unlike any woman he'd ever met. Luckily the bet was over now, and she would never be hurt.

Chapter Thirteen

The moment the limo door closed, the sound ricocheted through her. Belle folded her hands in her lap. She swallowed as he scooted closer to her. Silence clung in the air until the driver pressed on the gas. She tilted her head and saw how Peter stared at her. Her stomach melted like butter.

She held her hands firmer and asked, "Is what Jennifer said about you true?"

His gaze narrowed. "What did she say about me?"

No holding back. She rubbed the back of her neck. "She told me you have trust issues that keep you from committing."

His eyes widened. "I don't think any woman should want to be with me long term. I'm pretty damaged."

This fit with what she thought, but she held her hands firm on her lap. "How can you think that?"

He nodded. "Most people want the money I can provide for them. If it's not money, it's something else. Everyone has a price."

"I don't believe that." Her price might be that she wanted a night she'd never forget. She licked her lips. "Even if it's true, how does that make you feel?"

He lowered his gaze. "I don't want to talk about me."

Seduction had never been her thing, and they were in a limo. The driver had seemed nice, but he could hear her. She kept her voice soft.

"I do. I'm interested in you, Peter."

"Why?"

He brushed his hand against hers. "'Cause I act different with you. You make me feel something and I like it."

She swallowed and tried to glance away.

Then he asked, "Did you intend to marry Colt because you felt something too?"

Direct hit on his part. Her lips parted. "I almost married Colt because I trusted him. Like you, I don't trust many people, but once people prove themselves as honorable, I open up."

"How can you say that? He left you for another woman?"

"But I knew he loved Victoria before we ever dated."

His hand went on top of hers. Her heartbeat raced as he asked, "And you were okay with that?"

"We thought she was dead."

These questions weren't going to lead her where she wanted to go. She swallowed. It wasn't wrong to want fun tonight and not have expectations.

She massaged her neck and said, "I thought he was grieving for someone he could never have again and that I could help heal him."

His gaze narrowed. "So you tried to fix him?"

She leaned forward and then rubbed his arm that held her. "I guess. I'm clearly not in love with him, if I am here with you."

His Adam's apple bobbed as he asked, "Are you sure?"

Her hands continued to stroke his arms. "During the ceremony, my eyes were glued on you. I don't know how much surer you want me to be. Now I've answered your questions. Can you answer mine?"

His skin grew goose bumps too. She kept that to herself. His gaze lowered, and he stared at her lips.

"What was that?"

Take me, right here, right now begged to be said. She opened her mouth, but then she asked, "How does people using you for money make you feel? Does that make you trust less?"

His face darkened. She swallowed. Serious was not going to get him to go to bed with her tonight.

He then massaged her knee. "We all use each other to get what we want out of life. I happen to be good at getting others to agree with whatever I want, and I get a good price. It was what my father taught me."

A simple brush of his skin on hers sent her into overdrive. "Are you like Scrooge in the old story and willing to let Tiny Tim die?"

"No, I don't want to be heartless and cold." He leaned closer and was only inches from her face. "All my employees are offered full health insurance, even the part timers."

Insurance had never set her on fire before. She sat back and lowered her gaze. "And your last relationship, Jennifer? What did you get from her?"

"It wasn't a relationship. She knew where we stood."

He rubbed his chin as the limo stopped. He got out and held his hand for her to join him. She scooted out the same door and took his offer. He moved her hand to his arm as he led her inside.

"Plus she was Vicki's friend. She was the only one left that knew my sister and checked on me. She was someone I understood and could be safe with."

Everyone had believed Victoria dead. She inhaled, and the sweet scent made her lips water.

She sighed. "Where was John?"

No one stopped them in the lobby. They walked arm-in-arm.

Peter said, "In the FBI. He hated me too."

She tugged on her ear. This was too deep. She'd have to figure out how to ask him to kiss her again. At least she hadn't told him not to, so this time, he might kiss her on his own.

"We don't have to talk about family anymore. I can see it clearly hurts you."

"Nothing hurts me."

Her eyebrows lifted, and a smile widened on her face. "Is that a dare?"

His dimples grew as he pressed the elevator button. "No. You have better aim than most."

She squeezed his arm. "I never stopped training, even after I left the Marines. You should give yourself credit. You clearly stay in shape, Morgan."

As the elevator opened, she went inside to the sweet sound of a guitar playing a romantic medley. He followed her in, and he took her hand.

"Morgan? Are we using last names now, Jordan?"

"It's what everyone else calls me at work." His arms leaned on both side of the elevator around her. A hunger grew inside her.

She panted and said, "Just you and Em and, well, everyone at the wedding, seems to remember my name is Belle."

His lips almost brushed against hers. The elevator dinged, and they stopped on her floor. He lowered his arms and then massaged the back of his neck.

"Why did your parents name you that?"

She followed him into the small hallway outside her door. This night didn't need to end. She licked her lips.

"I think my mom was into Disney, or she basically knew it was French for beauty. She must have had wishes for me."

He stared at her. Her skin tingled with anticipation. Tonight she ignored the doubts that plagued her mind and focused on him.

"You're wistful. You must have had a mother you loved. And I broke my promise to you."

Her eyes widened. "What promise?"

He shrugged. "We weren't going to discuss family anymore, were we?"

As she opened the door with her electric key, she stared into his eyes. This couldn't be the end. She swallowed. "It's okay, as long as you intended to kiss me before we depart."

"You can invite me into your room, Belle."

Finally. This night was going her way. This was the night of no regrets. She pushed the door wider and pointed toward the living room.

"Yes, you're right. I can. Come in for a moment."

His hand brushed against hers as he did as she wanted. "You are nothing like anyone I've met."

She closed and locked the door behind her. "Is that a bad thing?"

His arms circled her waist, and his body brushed against hers. "Absolutely not. Can I kiss you now?"

She closed her eyes and puckered her lips. "I'm counting on it."

A fraction of a second later, his hard lips suckled on hers. Her hands ran through his thick, coarse hair. He was perfect. Her toes curled.

As he ended the kiss, he smiled and held her tight. "You even taste like apples."

That was new. No one ever said she smelled sweet like anything. "You have a strange thing about that fruit and me."

His quick head nod made him adorable. "I guess I do."

He then took a step, and she thought he intended to leave. She jumped forward to grab his arm. "Don't go."

"Are you sure, Belle?"

Yes. No. Maybe. Tonight with him didn't need to end. She needed more.

She nuzzled his neck. "Please stay."

He swallowed then wrapped his arms around her. "Belle, I never want to disappoint you."

She whispered, "Then we'll not think about anything else other than tonight. We make no promises."

He closed his eyes and then planted soft kisses on her nose, cheeks and lips. "You're the type that expects far more than I can give."

She'd be his. Tonight was their’s. "Tonight is just that and nothing more."

He froze. "One question."

Whatever he wanted. Yes.

Then he asked, "Will you be my New Year's date this year?"

Perhaps he was under some sort of spell too. He didn't understand the one night only offer, but perhaps she might extend it for a vacation.

She licked her lips. "Okay. I'll stay."

His hands ran down her spine, and every cell inside her was stimulated awake. He asked, "Is this okay?"

"Yum. More. I want everything."

"You're fascinating."

"Remember what I said about that word."

"Got it."

He turned off the lights. Every part of her was alive as his hands brushed against her breasts to take her hand. She focused on their heartbeats, which were in sync. He was everything she had ever wanted.

Chapter Fourteen

A fireplace crackled in her ears. Belle swallowed. Her naked body was still warm and tangled with Peter's. This was so unlike her. She sniffed the air, and his oak scent overwhelmed her. Another snap in the air caught her attention.

She lifted her head and gazed out the door. Her stare stopped as she saw that Peter's big, brown eyes were wide awake.

He nodded at her and said, "Merry Christmas."

There was no use pretending last night hadn't happened. For the next few days, she'd live like nothing mattered. She licked her lips. He was so well-built, everywhere. A prickle of her cheeks made her think she blushed again. She straightened her spine.

"Merry Christmas back at you, Peter."

He pointed to her nightstand. "Is this picture of your mother?"

"Yes. I like to travel with her. I take her everywhere I go."

"You have her face."

"No, she's far prettier."

"Don't put yourself down."

He rolled on top of her. Her body was so slick from their five times last night. She left her hands above her head and didn't struggle.

"I have something for you."

She covered her lips. A tremble inside her grew as he smiled at her. She licked her lips. There was no time for presents.

"I don't have anything for you. I didn't know we'd do this."

He handed her a thin, narrow box. Her heart raced. What happened between them wasn't about clothes, and he hadn't had any time to buy anything. Nothing else would fit in the box, though. She bit her lip and opened the box.

Wrapping paper covered something hard. She let out a breath as she stared at a picture of them dancing together last night.

"How did you print this?"

"I told the photographer to wrap it and deliver it your hotel. I heard the knock, and you were sleeping. I hope you like it."

"It's thoughtful." She dropped her hands to her side. "Peter, you didn't have to. I seriously didn't get you anything."

"I can think of presents I'd like from you." He inched the sheets lower. "One more peek at your naked body would be the best present."

Now wasn't the time to be shy. He'd already had his hands all over her. She held steady and nodded.

"Then unwrap the sheets off me."

His eyes lit up like he was a boy on Christmas morning as she brushed her fingers against his five o'clock shadow. He then kissed her nipples, one at a time.

"You're perfect."

A giggle escaped her lips as she arched to let him touch her again. "I have the same parts every woman on earth has."

He sat beside her, but their legs stayed entwined. He ran his hand through her hair.

"It's the whole package Belle. It's your sexy skin, sexy lips, the words that come out of them, and how you radiate warmth from your very soul."

Her heart lifted. She believed every word. "Peter, sometimes you are a poet."

"Only for you." He ran his hands through her hair now. "And never tell anyone."

"Fair deal." This seemed so unlike her. The lightness inside her chest sent something peaceful and wonderful throughout her entire body. She giggled. "How do I radiate anything?"

His fingers brushed against her cheek. "It's because you're real."

Her heartbeat increased as she stared into Peter's eyes. She licked her lips and asked, "That's what drove you to me then?"

He flinched. "What's that?"

This wasn't a marriage proposal. Her pulse quickened, but she pressed ahead with the topic. "You clearly spend all your time with fake everything. It left you vulnerable and seeking someone like me."

A smile grew on his face though he shook his head. Then his lips came closer to hers. "There she is. The woman who is not afraid to be in my arms."

His muscles pressed against her sent butterflies throughout her stomach still. She closed her eyes and smelled his woodsy scent.

"You're impossible, Peter Morgan."

His fingers brushed against her hair. "Only with you."

Finally he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and she sighed. He was perfect in some ways. Her toes curled until he ended the brief kiss. Her entire body heated again as he then wrapped his arms around her waist to spoon with her.

She ran her hands down his tight arm as she said, "Good, I'm happy it's only with me. Otherwise your business would be terribly run."

His laugh was deep and infectious. He was the perfect Christmas present.

She stared out the window at the gorgeous sunrise.

"Will you come to the hospital with me and then later home, to my house?"

She twirled to stare into his eyes. If he was sick, then they never should have slept together. She took his hands in hers. "Why the hospital?"

His fingers entwined with hers. "It's a tradition, and I'd like your help this year."

"Tradition?" Peter spent Christmas every year in a hospital? She pressed her lips together and asked, "What are we doing there?"

He ran his hands up and down her back. Tingles grew everywhere.

"Ensuring the families in the hospital can all afford their medical bills."

Now was not the time for more sex. She sat and took the sheets with her as she smiled. "See. You are a good guy."

He sat beside her, and ran his hand through his hair. "No, I'm not. It's something I've always done, but it doesn't make me good. I get a tax rebate for the charity. What does your family do to celebrate today?"

She squeezed his shoulders. Then she stood and stretched her arms. "Nothing now, or I wouldn't be here with you."

He stood as well and grabbed his pants from the floor. "What did you do for Christmas that made you happy?"

Unashamed, she picked up the remnants of her bra and underwear off the floor. The dress hung on the chair, so she hadn't ruined the most expensive outfit she'd ever touched.

She smiled to herself. "After presents?"

He left the room. She held her bra over her chest as she inched out of the second floor master bedroom. Peter crossed the living room and then picked up packages. He carried a few boxes stacked on top of each other, and she slipped into the bedroom again. She made it to the adjoining bathroom as Peter returned and dropped the bags on the bed.

"Yes, after presents."

Those were not presents for her. She knew better. She wrapped the robe around herself and came back. Then she rubbed her head and asked, "What's this?"

"Answer my question."

The boxes held her gaze. She sat on the bed and stared at them. "Dad would make the best hot chocolate in the world. Then we'd sit by the fireplace, and he would read me a book. Then we ate some store-bought meal he brought home that tried to recreate a traditional family meal that you see in the movies. Christmas night was always movie night."

He covered his mouth, and she didn't understand what happened. He then said, "You'll be disappointed with what's inside these, Belle."

"What is it?"

He shook his head and pushed one of the boxes toward her. "You can open it. They are all for you."

She swallowed, unsure what happened. Then she unwrapped the box and said, "It's clothes."

He crossed his arms. "It's options to wear to the hospital."

No one ever bought her options for outfits. She wasn't and never would be bought. She stood up.

"We agreed, Peter. I have my own clothes."

He nodded his head, like he understood. "My secretary and my sister decided to send them. Don't feel obligated."

"Do all your dates get this treatment?"

"I don't normally take my dates to meet my family."

It was Christmas, and his secretary sounded efficient. She stood and stared at him. "I feel weird. I have a full time job, though I've not had much time to shop."

He shrugged. "Then don't wear these and give them away."

Perhaps she was being overly sensitive. Peter was nothing like she'd been warned. She swallowed.

"It is pretty, though, and red is a Christmas color. I'll wear it. Are the other boxes your outfit choices?"

"My name is here." He flipped open a box and revealed a gray business suit and a red tie. " This one is for the hospital."

The dress fit perfectly. Belle fixed her lipstick. It must be nice to have servants that took care of everything, though technically a secretary wasn't. Without knowing even her name, the woman knew her size. At some point, it would be polite to tell her ‘thank you’ as Belle personally hated shopping. She checked her lips in the mirror and then stared at herself. She looked pretty.

She left the bathroom and saw Peter on his phone WIFI, checking emails. She walked over and took his phone out of his hands. He gazed at her, and she dropped it on the bed. "No working today. You're with me, and you promised brunch."

He offered her his arm. The second she looped her arm with his though, he leaned over and kissed her cheeks.

"No one dares me, Belle, ever."

"Such a pity then."

As he led her past the bed, he pocketed his phone.

She pressed her lips together to keep herself from laughing as she said, "Guess they left you for me as they lacked the courage."

As they descended the stairs in her suite and headed toward the main room, Peter then asked, "How do you know people are generally afraid of me?"

Her eyes widened, but then she squeezed his arm. "It's how you talk about you being just like your father, and how you describe him."

He nodded as he held the door open for her. "What specifics have I said?"

She checked her pocketbook for her electronic key and followed him out. "That you protected your siblings from his wrath and that he told you that your mother didn't love you."

He reached over and rubbed her arm. "I didn't say that."

She pressed the elevator key. Her heart leapt in her chest, and she refused to wonder why.

She swallowed and said, "It's implied. What happened the day your mom left then if your father didn't tell you that?"

The elevator dinged. Then he answered, "Vicki was about to turn one. We had a birthday party planned."

They stepped inside and the sound of light samba filled the air. She pressed his arm. "And? Did she walk out the door telling you to fend for yourself?"

He stiffened and stood taller. As the elevator doors opened, they stepped into the lobby. "She didn't say anything to me. She saw me on the marble staircase as she stormed out of the living area. She had just argued with my father. I thought she'd be right back, but she never walked in the door again."

Someone snapped their picture. Peter kept his arm at his side and didn't blink. He wasn't a celebrity. She crossed her arms in defense and then stared at his profile. "That doesn't make sense. How old were you?"

"Four, almost five. And you were right, my father told me not to trust any woman, including my mother, as all women have their price."

He never broke their stride as he escorted her through the lobby where people were checking out and heading for a cruise. He held the door for her. His limo waited for them.

The driver held open her door. She nodded as a thank you and then slid inside. Peter then joined her in the backseat. Her heartbeat raced as she thought he should have someone way more elegant on his arm, but then she told herself this whole thing was temporary. She dropped her arms and let her body relax.

"You do keep looking for my price, don't you?"

He reached for her hand, so she dropped it in her lap for him to hold. His fingers linked with hers again, and then he kissed it. "I haven't figured you out. Thank you for helping at the hospital today."

Leaving Washington and coming here had been the best idea she'd ever had. The butterflies in her stomach were still there, but at the moment, less obvious.

"I don't know how to prove myself. It's a hard sell. My own father is too busy for me these days." She averted her gaze. It was best to change the conversation. "What happens at the hospital?"

"We visit patients, see what their needs are. Then we go to my house and have a nice quiet dinner. You'll like Starr Island."

"What happened to brunch?"

"Dinner is more intimate."

"I was promised brunch."

"That was before you and I made love. Is the change of plans a problem?"

"No, I guess not." Perhaps her unexpected vacation meant she could continue being someone else like she was with him. "I'd like to see your home. Is it a nice place to see the stars at night?"

"You might say that. The celebrities have really turned our family homestead into something else entirely."

She tugged her ear with her free hand. "Now I'm intrigued. I wish I could say yes, but my friend Em made me swear I'd squeeze her in."

"I'll make sure she and your friends are taken care of and get you to the hotel to meet her."

Silence clung in the air. She listened to her heartbeat and swallowed. Perhaps he was right. She could pretend to be this nice, sweet Belle version of herself for a short while more.

"Then let's do it."

"I think we did it last night, but I'll be ready for more of you this evening."

"Ha, ha, Peter. Not everything relates to sex." She squeezed his hand that held hers as she shook her head. "We might again, if I'm persuaded you're not judging me."

"There is something I should tell you."

His gaze narrowed, and she stilled. Her lips parted, but her eyes didn't quite close yet. Her pulse was raised, and adrenaline ensured all she could see was him beside her. He lowered his head, and his lips came closer to hers. She licked her lips and closed her eyes.

"Belle..."

He hesitated, though his face held a slight blush.

She opened her lips. "Yeah."

With his lips hovering beside hers, every cell in her body was awake and alive. She knew where he was from how the air around her practically sang with energy.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and said, "I like you."

Melted butter didn't feel this good. She kept her eyes closed and her lips close to his. "I don't know what's going on, but this is the first Christmas I've enjoyed in a long time. I am afraid of what's happening."

There was something else that he meant to say. She could see the conflict of light that displayed in his eyes. She swallowed. For now, she'd let him figure out his pace. Whatever it was that haunted him, it couldn't be worse than what his father had done to him. Then his lips brushed hers, and she lost any other thought for that moment. All she could see were stars and him. Peter Morgan was perfect.

Chapter Fifteen

With Belle, the jolt through his body hadn't dissipated. Peter Morgan refused to say anything, but near her, he was light-hearted. The smell of apples now tempted him, and her kisses were mind-numbing. No one ever made him feel anything like this. She might even be better than that moment he knew he had won a major battle in the boardroom and the euphoria of being right.

Nothing about today made sense, but for the first time he could remember, he had been afraid. What if she left when he told her about the bet? It was over now, but his stomach had a knot at the thought that she'd disapprove. The limo stopped at the hospital, and he helped her out.

As she passed, calmness entered his entire body and settled in his skin. No one here would tell her. He'd find the right moment to free himself and tell her the initial truth about why he had spent the first minute with her. Everything was different now. He took her hand, held the box, and together they entered the lobby.

Every year since he'd been five, he'd accompanied his father to do this as his mother was no longer part of the family. Even after Mitch's death, this was one tradition Peter didn't mind. Today he helped people.

They talked to the personnel in the intensive care unit, and he stopped at the first door. At the nurse's station, Jennifer Gonzales, his ex, hovered. His pulse quickened. He turned to Belle. She hadn't seen. He swallowed. He needed to get rid of Jennifer, fast, and with luck, Belle would never find out.

Adrenaline now pumped in his veins. He handed Belle the first envelope from the box and pointed her to the door. "Belle, go inside and hand the woman in this room these papers."

She clutched the envelope he had fished out of the box. "Who is she?"

Jennifer waved at him from behind Belle's head. Peter pressed his lips together and flipped open the envelope. Then he handed the papers to Belle so she could read.

"My secretary wrote that her name is Mrs. Bembry. Her husband is on life support for a heart attack. She has three children and two grandchildren with one more on the way. She hasn't seen them. The papers say both that her bills will be taken care of by the Morgan Foundation and that all of her family will be here tonight."

Belle refolded the envelope. Jennifer lifted her head higher. He needed to get rid of his ex fast. Today was about Belle and that jolt he had near her.

Belle waved the envelope in front of Peter's face. "Are you sure you don't want to? This sounds like a great gift."

For the rest of the day, Belle would have his undivided attention. Right now he placed his hands on her back and pointed her toward the room.

"No, Belle. They will more likely to accept it from you."

She turned to him. "Come in with me."

There was nothing else he'd like to do. He then tugged his ear. "I'll be right in. I just need to take care of something first."

She shrugged. Clearly she hadn't seen Jennifer as she bounced into the hospital room. "Okay. Hurry back."

Belle's voice echoed in his ear as she said greeted a mother. He clenched his hands and his shoes twirled toward Jennifer.

Jennifer heaved her big chest at him, and he stepped away. He massaged his chin. "What are you doing here?"

She pouted. "I came to help you, like I always have."

Again she stepped closer to him, and he sidestepped her. Then he puffed out his chest as he'd never run from any challenge. "Jennifer, you have a boyfriend. Rafe is a good guy."

Her lips tisked as if he had said something distasteful. "Rafe is a good guy, but he thinks I'm not over you."

"He's the smartest cop in Miami PD." Belle didn't need to deal with one minute of Jennifer and how most people placated her. He pressed his lips together. "Look, I'm busy and Belle's here with me this Christmas."

Jennifer flipped her hair and placed her hand on her hip. "Now that Vicki's wedding is over, you don't have to entertain the jilted bride anymore just because the groom made some bet with you. Peter, we used to be good together."

He opened his mouth to tell her to get off him as she placed her hand on his arm. Then Belle's voice rang in his ears.

"What did she say?"

He turned around and reached for the one woman who made his stomach flutter. "Belle, you can't believe..."

She swatted his hand away from her. "I can."

He left his box of cards at the nurses' station and followed her as she ran down the hall. At the elevator bank, he found her and said, "Wait. Belle, I went over to tell her to leave."

She rolled her eyes and pressed the elevator button. She shifted from side to side as she avoided his gaze. "Why? She's clearly here for you."

This was not how he had intended to talk about the bet. He pressed his hand on her shoulder, and she stopped being so jittery. "I came here with you. What she said is her grasping at straws."

Belle turned right into his muscles. He didn't budge.

She licked her lips. "What?"

Her blue eyes had no internal mask. He knew where he stood with her. He reached down and took her hands in his.

"She wants my money, Belle. Don't let Jennifer or anyone else interfere with us."

She swallowed. "She's your ex. Peter, if you want to be with her..."

Huh? His heart beat so fast in his chest. Had she not heard about the bet?

He squeezed her hand. "That's not it at all. You're the first woman in a long time that has challenged me. Please stay, Belle."

The elevator dinged. She stayed still and stared at it. "Are you sure?"

Her fingers laced with his felt right. "Yes."

She turned to face him, and her eyes were wide. "There are no hard feelings, Peter. If you want to go back to her, I'll walk away."

He held his breath and stared at her. Belle's openness blew every other woman out of the way.

He swallowed. "Absolutely not."

She turned and they slowly walked hand in hand to the nurse's station. "Why did your friends bet you to go out with me?"

Adrenaline raced. He should have told her the truth. Coming from Jennifer, it sounded worse. His heart whispered to tell the truth. He ran his hand through his hair.

"I don't know their intentions. The moment we spoke, I never thought about the bet or why ever again."

She stared at his profile until he turned toward her. "Why did you forget?"

She'd never believe him, but he had to somehow explain why he was drawn to her. "You were too real and honest."

A blush stained her cheeks. "I'm not that."

"You don't have a price."

"I thought we all had one."

"I can't figure yours out." They turned the corner. If he didn't fix this situation, he could lose her. He didn't even look at the nurse's station. He needed her to talk. "Why did you come last minute to the wedding?"

Belle covered her lips for a minute. "Why do you ask?"

He was right. Something had happened. He held his breath as he said, "You were so guarded at the rehearsal dinner, and I know you didn't RSVP even after Colt and Vicki sent the last minute plane ticket. You walked in without an announcement."

She pressed her lips together and avoided his gaze. "So the bet was about keeping me occupied, so I didn't ruin anything for anyone? Was the plea of friendship from Colt and Vicki out of guilt?"

Whatever brought her here didn't matter as long as she forgave him. He pressed his lips together and kept the conversation going. "Belle, I called off the bet because you fascinated me."

"Again with that word."

She slowed down and tugged his arm. He stopped and gazed at her. She flipped a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Peter, perhaps it's best if we say from now on that we're friends."

He massaged his scratchy chin. If he could help her, he would. It would be his way of paying her back for that stupid bet he had initially made.

"What?"

She shrugged. "I came here because I wanted closure. I don't want to regret spending years of my life with a man who didn't love me. I'm worth far more."

He squeezed her hand. "Yes, you are."

She shook her head. "I should have stayed with my friends, had a few beers, and never involved myself with the Morgan family. Going to the party alone was my mistake."

"Don't." His heartbeat quickened. "You are far more than a friend to me, and I don't want to pretend otherwise."

She licked her lips. "We all don't get what we want in life. We should give the patients their envelopes, and then I'll head to the hotel, alone."

"I am sorry."

She grabbed his arm as they walked. "Good. Next time don't make a bet and judge me."

A second later Jennifer walked out of a hospital room, carrying the half-empty box. Clearly she had handed out more than a few. She returned and dropped the box onto the counter and stared right at him.

"Oh look, you're back. I just finished handing out the gifts in this wing. Perhaps we can share the next hallway?"

Belle opened her mouth and grabbed the box off the counter. "Peter, this is up to you."

Peter lifted his chin.

Jennifer didn't glance at Belle at all. He met her gaze and shook his head.

Jennifer pouted, "I was just helping give charity to these people, like we have done for the past few years."

Belle's arms crossed.

Peter swallowed. "Jennifer, Belle and I want to do this alone."

Jennifer glared at Belle. "Peter, you know underneath everything, I mean well. You told me you believed in me."

Belle's lips opened, but Peter stepped in front of her. "Jennifer, don't be rude with my new girlfriend. Belle deserves your respect."

Belle stilled just as Jennifer's mouth opened wide as she stared at him again. "Peter—"

He interrupted her. "My name is not an apology to Belle."

Jennifer lost all the coloring in her face, and her shoulders slumped. "Belle, I was unforgivably rude, and I interrupted more than I thought I would. I apologize."

Belle lifted her chin. "It's fine. You were illuminating."

Jennifer lowered her gaze and sashayed out of the hall.

Neither of them said a word until she was out of sight. Then Belle handed him the box. "Peter, let's finish delivering the rest of these and then go."

He followed her into the next room, carrying the box. At the door, Belle took the marked envelope. The sick little boy in the bed widened his eyes as Belle brushed her arm against his mother's shoulder.

The mother turned and asked, "Who are you two?"

Belle nodded her head. "We're from the Morgan Foundation. This is for you. Please take this, and if you ever need anything, please let us know."

The mother opened the envelope and had tears in her eyes. "This is too much."

Belle smiled. "Take it. Merry Christmas."

The mother stared at her son and then nodded her head. "This will help us. Merry Christmas to you too."

They walked out of the room together, and Belle bumped into him as they turned the corner. Then she wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled.

"Peter, I like your Christmas tradition."

She hadn't demanded a reporter and a photographer to follow them. Belle was one hundred percent real, and she hit something in his heart that reminded him why he liked his yearly trip here. He hugged her and whiffed her apple scent. He decided apples were now his favorite fruit.

Chapter Sixteen

The limo brought them over a bridge and onto an island where the streets were lined with palm trees. Belle gazed out the window, unsure where she was. A sign read that all the property was private except the road. She swallowed. Her neighborhood in DC was exclusive, but nothing like this. They drove past the back of a mansion on the road and then a few houses and then another mansion.

To avoid the scenery, she turned toward Peter and asked, "How come the mansions are all facing away from the road?"

"The houses are built to enjoy our views of Biscayne Bay and downtown Miami."

This was larger than his brother's place where he had held the party, and far more opulent. The limo stopped on the street near the back of the house. She crossed her arms as she scooted out. The mansion was multiple floors, and she could see a chandelier inside through the window.

She shook her head. "If you live here, why didn't you host the rehearsal dinner?"

He shrugged. "My sister was marrying Colt. She wanted the wedding closer to Homestead and in a place that wouldn't overwhelm half her guests."

This had been a mistake. She should have gone to the hotel, not agreed to hear him out.

As he held the door for her, and she stepped into the white marble entrance way, she gulped. The other day, she'd have left the moment she stepped inside. Now she folded her hands together and gazed at that gorgeous golden chandelier that took center stage in the room.

"I understand."

"It's just a house, but it was built in a time when families intended to show off their homes." The Great Gatsby had nothing on Peter Morgan's home.

"Did you buy this yourself?"

"No, this was my family home. I inherited."

"Of course it was."

The carvings on the walls were hand painted. She swallowed as she stared at the portraits on the wall and the ceramics. This was not a place for children. He didn't seem to notice that her mouth was open.

"You'll like the view. Perhaps we can have dinner on the patio after I show you the grounds?"

“Sounds nice.” She tried to blink. This was too much. "We came here because you said you wanted to talk."

He threw open the double doors of the front and let the sunshine inside. She covered her eyes and stepped forward to take his offered hand as he said, "I definitely want that, but I'm hoping we can include dinner still."

"I suppose, but your house intimidates."

He tisked as if he didn't see the connection. "It's only twelve bedrooms. Dad always complained that us children made too much noise and disturbed his guests in the other wing."

Her apartment had two bedrooms, and that was enough. He then pointed toward the Miami skyline that shone over the water. She stepped closer to him and smelled his woodsy scent. She almost lost track of the conversation, but massaged her neck.

"He didn't bring you to meet every one of his guests and explain why he needed them entertained in his house?"

"Of course he did. I was always delegated to be his right hand. Most of the people invited to stay with us soon lost everything as Dad targeted their financial interests. He claimed the house visits were the guests' way of making up for some slight, but no one ever smoothed things over with Mitch Morgan."

"So I am not the only one intimidated here."

He opened another door and held it for her. She pressed her lips and followed. She stepped into the room.

"And you?" she asked. "If crossed, can you be smoothed over?"

"In business, not likely."

"And in your private life?"

"I don't have one. Now that my brother and sister are back, they expect me to be part of a family. It's strange for me."

They were in a living room of sorts. Her feet ached in her new heels, but she didn't say anything. She took his hand and brought him to the couch. He followed her direction and sat. She joined him.

"Growing a heart is a good thing. Can I ask a question?"

His hand landed on her knee. "Sure, what?"

This was it. She swallowed. "What did you mean when you called me your girlfriend?"

He didn't move. "What?"

"You called me your girlfriend." She turned her body to face him more. This conversation was important. "We have only had two, well if you count today, three dates. Are we dating?"

His eyebrows lifted. "Aren't we?"

The bet rang in her ears as important. The thought caused her body to stiffen. She'd get to that in a minute.

"Peter, our lives are very different. We probably won't mesh well together."

His hand stayed on her knee and squeezed it. For a moment, she thought he read her mind. "What bothers you?"

She glanced at his leg. Last night he'd made her forget the entire universe. She crossed her arms.

"Colt didn't want to marry me because I didn't want to leave my job for a farm."

"Alice and Colt run a corporation worth three quarters of a billion dollars. He'd need to be close."

His deep voice caught her attention, and she gazed at him. Her throat seemed to close on its own. She coughed out the choke his news seemed to cause.

"What? The farms weren't worth half that much a year ago."

He shrugged. "They now have access to better contracts and contacts."

He didn't have to lay claim to helping Colt. She saw stars floating. "You did that because of Colt and your sister?"

He shook his head. "Alice married John, first. Alice and Colt are partners, and no one in my family will ever go poor."

Close to a billion dollars was hardly poor. The multimillion dollar farms Colt used to run had tripled in value in less than a year. Her entire body heated, and she glanced out the window at the blue bay.

"You almost make dumping me sound like a good financial investment."

His hand pressed against her knee. She swallowed.

"Belle..."

A loud high pitched voice of a woman echoed in the air and interrupted them. "Mitch! Where are my children?"

Peter's face went white.

Peter and she both jumped to their feet. Peter's eyes circled, and he inhaled without exhaling. Then he said, "Excuse me," and rushed out the door.

Whoever was here clearly intended to argue with Peter's father. Belle stayed right on his heels and followed him down a hall toward the room they entered.

An older woman with Peter's high cheekbones covered her lips. Her eyes misted as she stared at him. "Oh my God. Peter."

Peter crossed his arms and stared at the older woman. His face was white, and his hands were clenched. "What the—"

Now wasn't the time to overreact. She reached up to his shoulder and massaged his arm to get him to relax.

He unclenched his hands as she asked, "What's going on? Who is she?"

His fingers touched the bottom of his lips. "Belle, that's my mother."

The one that left him scarred and unable to trust anyone. Belle licked her lips and tried to sound calming and soft.

"Your what?"

"I'm his mother, Isabella Morgan." His mother came closer and seemed like she wanted to hug him. He stepped away. Tears fell down the woman's face. "Peter, thank goodness you're okay. You've grown so handsome. Where are your brother and sister?"

His hands clenched again. "Safe from you. How did you get in here?"

She pointed toward the door. "My kidnappers delivered me. They said Mr. Morgan expected my delivery. I thought it was your father."

"My father is dead."

A smile grew on her face that she quickly masked. "Then it was you who freed me."

Belle asked as she shook her head, "What?"

Peter didn't move. His shoulders were tight. Belle glanced out the window and saw the SUVs. "Those are Morgan Enterprise cars."

His mother wiped her eyes. "Yes, your father refused to let me get divorced. He had me transported to a compound in Argentina, where my only contact with other humans was his staff. I was so worried about you."

"You left me. You certainly didn't contact us."

The words had sounded etched in pain. Belle squeezed his arm to let him know he was fine. If her mother ever walked in the door, she'd have no idea how she'd react.

His mother's face went as white as his. "I didn't. I was kidnapped right from the front door. Your father ensured I was kept under lock and key while all my needs were met, except the most important one of all. You and my other children. Please understand."

"I don't." He then stepped out of her arms and walked toward the window to stare at the SUVs. "If you were the merchandise I had delivered to my house then you were living in a condition most people cannot afford."

His mother shook her head. "Peter, I couldn't ever leave the villa. Your father had me. I would never have left my children. You must know that."

"Why would I know that?" Peter's voice had a desperate edge that he never showed. He knew better than to show his emotions.

Belle had no idea what to say, but this story sounded believable. Peter had told her plenty about Mitch. She swallowed and wanted to know how to help.

Peter's entire body was stiff. "I saw you walk out the door."

His mother's eye widened. "What?"

Peter kept his head high, but his words held fury. "You and Dad fought. Then you stormed out the door and never came back."

His mother took a step toward him. "I went to get air that night. I needed to pack your things to take you with me. I wanted a divorce."

"I don't believe you." He avoided her touch, but returned to Belle's side.

"Your father cheated on me and then refused to let me go. He was a horrible husband and everyday I prayed that you were safe."

Peter's hands clenched. This was fast, but Belle wanted to help him. She reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Peter, she's your mom. You told me yourself that your father went on to ruin everyone who ever stayed in the house with you. If she is your mom, then the worst thing he could do to her was take her children away."

He shook his head as he stared at her. "Don't defend her, Belle. If she's telling the truth, then she can talk to Rafe. He's on the police."

"Rafe Soliz? Pilar’s son? He's a cop?" His mother walked over to him and reached out. Peter flinched, but let her touch his arm. "I'll talk to him. Peter, I have always loved you. Your father wanted to cut me out of your life, so he could mold you into him."

His lips parted as he stared out the window. "That's exactly what he did."

Tears flew down his mother's cheeks again. "Peter, no."

He walked out of their arms and paced the room.

His mother continued, "Your father didn't have a heart, but you used to."

Belle stood beside her and hugged her stomach. She had no idea how to help.

Then his mother finished, "Your girlfriend seems lovely. Tell me your name and if Peter truly cares about you."

This was the second time today she had been called his girlfriend. She shook her head. "We just met, Mrs. Morgan. I'm Belle Jordan. Peter was showing me his house."

“You seem nice, Belle.” His mother smiled, but then stopped herself. She stared at Peter as she said, "Please call me Isabella. Peter, where is your father?"

"I told you." Peter froze and stared at her from across the room. "He's dead. We buried him months ago."

His mother wiped her eyes and lifted her chin. "He deserved to die in misery. So what took you so long to bring me home?"

Peter stared at Belle and then Isabella, his mom. "I thought you left us. I didn't know anything else. When I was given an expense report, I wanted to know what merchandise Dad had hidden away."

His mother stepped closer to him again. Belle wondered if she had a death wish in that moment until she said, "Peter, where are John and Victoria?"

Peter closed his eyes and massaged his chin. "Vicki's packing for her honeymoon, and John lives with his wife and child."

His mother's eyes widened. "They are married?"

"With children, both of them." He turned toward a maid that stood in the next room. "Caro, have my mother's things brought into the east wing. It seems I have a guest."

"Yes, Mr. Morgan."

Did he always assume his staff was on call without having to raise his voice? The very pretty maid helped Isabella Morgan leave the room.

Belle pressed her lips together.

His mother turned from the door and walked in front of him again. "Can you call them? I want to see all my children again."

"Please follow, Caro, Mom. I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around everything."

"Caro, are you a Soliz as well?"

"Yes, ma'am. My mother worked here before me." His mother turned to go but then stared at Peter again.

She steadied her shoulders. She marched toward Peter, threw her arms around him and hugged him. He didn't hug her, but he stayed still to let her brush his hair with her fingers.

Peter didn't move. He seemed stuck in that one spot. Belle came toward him again and took his hand and unwrapped his fingers. When she placed her hand in his, Peter rocked on his feet and then squeezed her hand.

Isabella Morgan swallowed.

"Belle, I don't know what to do."

"You're doing great."

She stared into his brown eyes. He seemed like a young boy who had just lost his mother. Her own heart melted a little, and she'd help him.

"Peter, relax. I'll text Colt. You call your brother."

Isabella followed the maid. Peter stared down the hall as his mother walked away.

"My mind is in a complete fog. I never thought my father would..."

"Do you think he was capable?"

"Yes."

His eyes were haunted. Unshed tears gathered in her throat.

"There are no words. I'm sorry."

Neither of them moved. Clouds formed in the distance on the water.

She found her cell phone and intended to text Colt, but then she saw how Peter turned away. She answered, "John and Victoria will want to meet their mother. You'll have to tell them. Maybe I should go to my hotel and let you deal with your family."

"No." He ran his hand through his hair and then strode to hold her tight against him. "Belle, I need you to stay."

If she could help him, she'd stay. "Are you sure?"

He then reached around her waist and hugged her. "Absolutely. I'm in shock."

"Okay. I'll get dinner ordered and set."

She ended their hug, but stayed in his arms. Her heart raced because he was so wound up tight. She'd have to stay calm.

"Just tell the staff. We can have whatever you want."

"Peter, be happy. Your mom is back. You thought she left you and never cared."

"I don't know what to think."

"As you said yourself, you're in shock. I need you to relax. Perhaps, you should call John now?"

He took a deep breath. Then he picked up his phone and nodded. "Yeah, I will now."

The moment he held his phone to his ear, she nodded. She found her phone and intended to go find this kitchen of his.

"Okay, I'll be right back. Meet you in the living room we were just in."

He nodded. She strolled through his huge house, but at the first door away from Peter she ignored the grandeur and typed furiously on her phone. Colt, get Victoria over to Peter's mansion ASAP.

He answered back immediately. Why?

Her mother is here and asking for her.

What?

Her mother. Peter just had a delivery from Morgan Enterprises. Turned out Mitch Morgan kidnapped their mom.

We are on our way. Don't let her leave.

I'm on it.

You're the best.

Colt was easy. Coordinating with him felt like they were still friends. Belle turned the corner and saw his mother on the bottom step sitting there with her face between her legs.

Belle sat beside her and heard the tears. "Mrs. Morgan, you're crying."

She placed her hand on the older woman's knee. His mother rocked on the stairwell, as she said, "Belle, it's nothing. Don't mind me."

She was hurt and upset. Anyone in her situation would be. "Be calm, Mrs. Morgan. Peter's calling John right now and Victoria will be here soon. Just give him a little space. He thought you left him."

"My babies, John and Victoria, they must hate me too."

Belle folded her hands together. She had never comforted another before, and her own mother would never walk in the door unexpected. Ghosts were just imaginations of the past.

She swallowed and chose her words carefully. "I don't know about all that. I'm sure they must have missed you. Peter told me how he broke into pieces the day you left."

His mother lifted her head up. "What?"

Belle pressed her hands together. "I shouldn't have said anything. I'll let Peter and you bond. Your other children will be here soon."

His mother's hands shook as she reached out to touch her knee, the same way Peter had earlier today. "Thank you, dear."

Belle stood and wiped her hands on her skirt. "I'm going to ensure that the chef has enough food for when the Morgans all show up."

His mother hugged her waist still, but tried to smile. "You're sweet and down to earth. I'm happy Peter found someone like you."

She pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. "Why is that?"

"His father would have bought him women, and no one was here to ensure Peter was taught right from wrong."

"Peter doesn't want to be like his father. I understand that more every time I hear what Mitch had done."

"You don't know nearly enough."

"I'm good." From the stories she had already heard about him, she didn't doubt it. She licked her lips and told her heart to stop racing. It didn't work, but she said anyway. "Peter Morgan has a lot of good inside him. Perhaps that comes from you? We came from the hospital where we gave everyone a donation."

Her smile could light up a room. "He still does that? I used to bring him to do that as a boy. It angered his father, but I wanted him to see how others suffered and how lucky he was."

There was so much to straighten out. She shouldn't get involved with the life and loves of the Morgan family. This wasn't her business. A family wasn't something she intended to involve herself with, not after everything, and no mother should like her. She tried to stay reasonable.

"Just relax, Mrs. Morgan, you're home now."

"Again, call me Isabella."

As Belle stood, she nodded and then walked toward the kitchen. She was absolutely sure that she didn't fit in here. She wasn't even sure where this kitchen was. She wandered down the hall and hoped to find it without getting lost.

Chapter Seventeen

Peter washed his face. Nothing could have prepared him for today. His gut was tied up into so many knots. Today seemed like a dream. If he saw his mother again, he had no idea what he'd do.

"Peter, where are you? Where is she?"

His brother's voice boomed from the main room. Peter's adrenaline rushed in his veins. He'd protect his siblings from his mother if he could, not that he had any idea of how to do that at the moment. He swallowed and left the bathroom.

"John, hold on. I'm coming."

Alice stood with her baby in her arms as John shook beside her. His tough as nails brother reminded him of the boy he had once been.

Alice held his arm as John asked, "What did you do? How is our mother here? Where is she?"

His body stayed tight and rigid. No force on earth would stop his brother. Peter pursed his lips. He would not prevent this, but his blood screamed that his mother had left them. He saw her leave, and he had heard how the door slammed. He pressed his hands on the table in front of him.

"She's in her room. I'm sure she'll be here any moment, but, John, I want to talk to you."

John nodded at his wife and then stepped closer. "How did this happen?"

Through clenched teeth, Peter managed to explain as the door swung open. "I wondered what merchandise our father had hidden away and ordered it to be delivered to my house. Mom was the package."

Victoria and Colt came through the door, but Vicki's hand on her mouth said without words that she had heard him. Peter tilted his head and then his sister screamed, "Mom was kidnapped? Have you called the police?"

"We talked about calling Rafe, but she wanted to rest."

“I can’t believe our father did this too! He’s a monster.”

His gaze narrowed in on Colt. He better protect his sister from this in case their mother turned out to be worse than their father.

Agreed, but they knew that. All Peter could say was, "Victoria, glad you joined us."

She came next to John and the three of them formed a small circle. Peter's gaze landed on Belle as she returned to the room.

“Seriously.” She stayed in the background as Vicki grabbed his arm. "My mind is reeling. Dad kidnapped her or she walked out the door?"

Peter saw himself sitting on the stairwell again as a little boy who wanted his mother. She slammed the door on her way out. "I remember them fighting."

John’s hands were clenched as he said, "Our father always got his way."

Peter glanced at both of them. They were already asleep when she had glided across the foyer and glanced at him. She saw him. He was sure. "He told us she left. I saw her leave."

“What did she say?” John crossed his arms.

Both of his siblings had wide eyes. His own heartbeat grew rapid. "She said she went out for air and that our father kidnapped her."

Vicki's eyes misted as she slammed her hand on the table next to him. "Oh my God."

"I don’t know." His chest tightened. There was no way to stop the jitters that rocked his insides. He stilled his body so no one saw. He glanced at both of them. "You both believe her."

John narrowed his gaze. "Peter, why wouldn't we believe this? You knew our father."

"I agree." Every muscle in his body wanted to hit something or someone. There was no evidence what he saw was a lie. He inhaled and said, "But I heard her slam the door. I saw the look in her eye as she left. I sat on those stairs and watched her. I waited for hours for her to come home."

Belle swayed but kept her distance.

Vicki's face went white, but she shook her head. "Peter, what did she say? I'm sure you asked already?"

“Nothing about seeing me.” He pursed his lips. Neither of them would believe him. There was no way she had been held captive all this time." She said what I told you. She went outside for air and then Dad's men took her from the backyard."

John's hands clenched. "Once again our father deserved to be in jail."

Peter met his stare and didn't blink as he said, "Maybe you're right. This is a disaster."

Vicki stepped in between both of them. "Why? This is no different. Our father stole my baby."

John's hand rested on their sister's shoulder. "Mitch Morgan wanted everything his way. If he didn't get it, then whoever was in his way suffered."

Their mother walked in and stood beside Belle. Belle reached out and comforted her.

Peter blinked. "Here she is. You two talk to her. I need air." He strode toward the door.

John called out, "Where are you going?"

"Outside." Peter kept his sight on the door. His heartbeat was so rapid he couldn't breathe in here. "I pay the men who work for Morgan Enterprises. I should be safe enough."

Vicki shouted, "Could you imagine never seeing anyone you ever loved again? Dad was horrible to our mother."

He rolled his eyes at his mother as she hugged John and Vicki "You two don't remember anything. I do, in living color."

Belle's footsteps echoed behind him on the porch. He turned, and she approached him. "Peter, where are you going?"

"I can't be here."

He stopped and stared at his fingernails as the idea of sailing off on his yacht played in his head.

"I'm coming with you."

At first he didn't say anything, but soft footsteps followed him. He waited until she placed her hands on his shoulder. Then he turned toward her.

The late afternoon sun started to set. He snorted as he stared at the water. Belle Jordan deserved someone better. He turned toward her, and the setting sun almost made her glow.

He swallowed. "Belle..."

She grabbed his hands and interrupted. She had the face of an angel. "You don't have to say anything. I'm here."

Nothing made sense, and he stared at the door behind her. He couldn't go inside. Instead he led her toward his closest escape.

"Let's go."

At the dock, which wasn't that many steps from where they had been, she hedged, "Are we heading back on your yacht?"

He dropped her hands. "If you want to go back—"

"No, I want to go with you."

She smiled at him, and a sense of calmness filled his heart. He'd like her with him right now. He helped her step onto his yacht.

"Let's go."

"I had no idea on this trip I'd be on a ship this much. I'd have brought a bathing suit."

He shrugged and his shoulders grew less tense as he led her to the control room. "There might be something here for you. Captain, get us out of here."

The captain nodded his head at them. "Aye, sir."

Belle tried to say hello to the captain, but Peter held her hand and led her out. She followed without question, and they headed into the dining area that held a view of his house as the captain began to sail away.

It had been his intention to show Belle the ten thousand square foot corner lot home with the balcony on the second floor that overlooked the bay and his swimming pools. He had imagined how he'd beg her to forgive him as she stood on one of those balconies, like Juliet in the stories. Now he stared at the mansion as they sailed away.

No one inside had come out to stop them. His hand brushed against a wine bottle.

Belle moved the bottle. "Peter, I don't think you should have a drink right now. Let's just go talk and eat."

He studied her hand. It was clean, white, and pure. He reached out and brushed her silky fingers.

He closed his eyes and let out a small sigh. "I never expected any of this. I intended to spend my life alone."

"Bitter isn't a good option." Her fingers laced with his and then reached up to brush his hair. "You have a strong family. You're having a hard time with all this."

Her massage was like magic. His body released all of its tension, and he needed to be still. "Yes."

She continued touching him. "Do you know how lucky you are?"

He shook his head and opened his eyes. Belle Jordan was more gorgeous than anyone he'd ever dated.

"No one would want my life."

She scooted her chair closer to him, and their legs brushed against each other. "Many would. Do you enjoy the blessings in your life at all?"

Somehow in all this mess, he had been blessed to find her. He kept that thought to himself and took her words to mean his past.

"I don't know what to expect in my life anymore."

"See, that's great." She dropped her gaze. "I'm the last person in the world to talk about this, but change happens to all of us. We shouldn't expect anything, but we have to accept."

He reached out and squeezed her knee as he leaned closer to her. "You have friends. You have a life in DC that you fought with Colt to keep. You don't have people looking at you and expecting to see a monster."

She trembled but didn't pull away. "You are not your father."

He didn't move. He had no idea what to say to her. "It feels like I can't escape him, Belle."

She closed her eyes. "Yet, your brother and sister respect you. They love you as their brother. You go out into the world and try to do good. Peter, you're not him."

He massaged her knee. Belle was so honest and heartfelt about everything in her life. She blew him away, and she was too hard on herself.

"I could be. Believe me. The power, the money, the connections, it's all there for me. All I have to do is snap my fingers and I can become exactly like him."

"It's true. You have more than anyone." She gazed at him again and his lips tingled as she continued to say, "But you have your own heart inside you and your soul. It's what kept you from turning into your father who, from all accounts, I'd not like."

Apples were fast becoming his a calming, needed scent. "He'd not like you."

She nodded. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"I would." He smiled. She truly was different.

She sat in her chair and stared at the sun that was about to disappear into the ocean. They had left the bay and also headed into the ocean. With Belle, he had peace now. She sighed as she watched the moment the sun disappeared. She truly was different from everyone.

Then she turned to him and asked, "Peter, did you ever imagine your mother coming home?"

"I don't want to think about that anymore."

Again his lips tingled. He'd like to kiss her again. The taste of apples would overpower him, but neither of them moved.

He rubbed his chin. "The truth is, until this year, I was never in my house and lived like a ghost."

She leaned closer to him. "Where were you?"

He lifted his eyebrows. No one had asked him that question in a way that he felt he should be honest. He had avoided Mitch Morgan. He whiffed her sweet scent.

"Anywhere Morgan Enterprises needed me, and I ensured I was always needed somewhere."

A sigh came out of her lips. "So you stopped running this year."

“My father died. His funeral was the best day of my life, though Victoria returning might have been your worst.” He reached behind her and took the wine bottle back from where she had placed it.

“I was fine.” She crossed her arms fast. “I’m happy your family reunited.”

His eyebrows arched. "I'm pouring us wine so we can sit here and wait for the moon."

She dropped her hands back to her side. "And you're changing the topic."

He uncorked the bottle. "No, here, with you, my heart isn't racing anymore."

He handed her a glass and then poured some for her. "Thank you."

He fixed his own drink and then clinked his glass with hers. "I should be thanking you."

She sipped her drink, but her gaze stayed on him. "You were running from your life. I was going to say I avoided my life too. I knew after I left the Marines I was supposed to do something with my life. Dad and my stepmom loved Colt and told me to marry him. So I broke down and thought they must be right. But I couldn't pack my bags. I knew that life on his farm wasn't the life I wanted."

He sipped his glass. Calmness now radiated out of him. "What do you want?"

She shrugged. "I wish I knew. That has always been my issue. I can make up a long list of things I don't want to do, but what I want to do is a different question. Living on a farm never sat right in my gut."

Belle scared herself from living. Something held her still. He sipped his drink and pressed his case. "Forget work. If there was one thing you've always wanted but never done, what is it?"

She shook her head. "Are you seeking to fulfill my wish and avoid your mother?"

A smile broke out on his face. She read that right. "Possibly, but answer the question."

"So many things are racing in my mind." She massaged one of her temples as if she could stop her thoughts. "Unlike yours, my mother cannot come back from the dead."

"True." He sipped his drink. "So pick something possible."

She then followed suit and sipped hers. Then she leaned closer to him, and he could smell her again. "I can't. Three keep circling, and no, you cannot fulfill these today. One is that I've always wanted to go to Paris with a man I love. I don't know what it is, maybe all those movies I've seen with the Eiffel Tower, but I want to go there with whoever my future husband will be.”

“We can...”

“Let me finish. Two is that I do want to get married, but I want to do it because I feel the need to shout 'yes' in my heart and not because it's expected of me. Finally, three is that I want to travel by donkey up a mountain."

He blinked. "A donkey?"

She gulped her glass. "I didn't want to be cheesy and say I want a family. I feel like I'm asking for the moon and stars while wishing and dreaming never get you much."

His entire face grew hot, and he stared out at the moon that grew higher in the sky. "I'm not the guy for you then."

"Don't worry about it. I told you it was all nonsense." She covered her lips and shook her head as she stared at him. "The second I said marriage or family, did your heart race?"

His collar grew tight, but he leaned closer to her. "Yeah, I guess it did."

"Then I'll stick to the donkey answer." She sat straight in her seat. "Donkey's aren't scary."

"Slightly smelly though." He licked his lips. "Belle, you're someone who makes me feel good about myself. I like the man I am with you."

"But?" She sat straighter.

He licked his lips. She truly was beautiful. "Why is there a but?"

She gripped her seat. "There is always a ‘but.’"

“But...” He gulped his drink. Then he reached out and took her glass. "I never wanted a wife or to get married. I wanted what my father instilled in me to die out. No one else should have to question every action."

"What's inside you that's so bad?"

His face had a slight tick. "That I can think like him, act like him, be like him. I could become so controlling that I lose touch and seal my fate as he did."

"That is impossible."

She made no sense. He swallowed. "How?"

"You're too sweet to be so evil. You see the options and don't choose his path."

He reached for her knee and leaned closer. "It's a constant struggle. I know how to get what I want, no matter the cost."

She wrapped her arms around him, and he kissed her. The apples mixed with the sweet wine made her the most succulent woman on the planet. He tugged her closer. He had to have her. She set him on fire.

She sighed as he stopped. Then she rested her head against his. "Wow, that was some kiss."

She made him feel alive. The sparks in his soul demanded he have her again. He stayed still. "Do you want me to take you home?"

“Let’s not sail for days right now. I was looking forward to your party on New Years.” She pressed her chest into his, and the sensation grew butterflies in his stomach. "Right now, I want to enjoy what happens next."

He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her nose and then led her to the door. "My bedroom is this way."

"Perfect."

She was right. Right now she was perfect and just what he needed.

Chapter Eighteen

Belle stretched. The yacht moved with the waves, but the engines were silent. Peter's chiseled body lay beside her, and he was still and warm. She untangled her arm and stared outside. They were docked somewhere. She shook him and kissed his forehead.

"Peter, it's morning."

He sat fast, but then grabbed her hand. He stared at the sun, like he was telling the time, and then nodded.

"I'll get you to the hotel and join you there this afternoon."

She stared at his profile. "Will you go in and see your mother?"

His quick intake of breath told her she had surprised him. "No, I have a board meeting. The moment it's over, I'll come find you."

"You should make time for your mom too. She's waited for you most of your life, knowing you were with your father." He flinched so she stretched and changed the topic. "But I should go find my friends and make an appearance. They must think I ditched them."

He stood and picked up his pants. "You were helping me. Take Em to the spa or someplace nice. Wait for me."

"Yes, boss."

"It was a suggestion."

"Just don't want you thinking anymore that you'll turn evil at a drop of a dime."

"So you called me boss?"

"Yep, and you didn't get mad."

He cocked his head, unsure what to say. Then they both sped through getting cleaned up and dressed.

As they were leaving the ship and heading toward the waiting limo, she grabbed his arm. "How will you find me?"

He tilted his head. His eyebrows lifted as he lifted his mobile. "I have a phone."

"Well, that might work." She swallowed and took his phone. "Do you want my phone number?"

As she typed in her contact info, he said, "Yeah I don't know why I didn't think to ask something so basic."

"You have a lot on your mind." She handed him his phone and then ran her hand up to his shoulders. "Okay. Peter, I'll be here for you. Find me soon."

He stopped, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hard. Her lips tingled as he drew away. She licked her lips to remember the taste as he waited at the limo door for her to slide in. She followed and hopped inside.

"Let's get you to your friends."

As soon as he entered, she remembered his earlier suggestion. He'd likely pay for the spa, and she couldn't keep accepting everything he offered. But a spa or trip somewhere did sound good.

She stayed beside him and let their legs touch as she said, "Peter, just think about taking it easy on yourself and forgiving your mom."

He placed his hand on her knee, and her body seemed to melt as he said, "If she was honest, then it's me to blame."

"I don't follow."

"I should have checked the expense report months ago and not been off ensuring the empire expanded."

"You didn't know."

"Right. I'll be back."

His eyes squinted and now she understood him. He didn’t want to continue this conversation. As the limo drove through the streets, she inhaled his woodsy scent. "Peter, despite all the drama, this has been the best vacation I've ever been on."

He massaged her knee and turned to face her. "We still have to talk about you being my girlfriend."

Her mouth watered for another kiss. She opened her lips and asked, "Em says I don’t date easy and take thing seriously to often."

"Don’t think ahead too much. Let's go away."

"What?"

"I own a jet. Location doesn't matter, and I'd rather be with you."

Her heart swelled in her chest. The thought of seeing him all the time brightened everything around her. She nodded her head.

"No, we’re staying here, I'll think about being your girlfriend."

"Good, we'll talk about this when I see you."

"Agreement doesn't sound like you." She lifted her gaze to him again and laughed silently to herself. "You're ending the conversation here?"

He kissed her cheek as the limo pulled to a stop. "Yeah, I have a lot to think about. See you soon."

"See you."

Her arms wrapped around him. She swallowed, but then he kissed her. She closed her eyes and was completely lost. His mouth on hers was perfection. She tasted and breathed only him.

She blinked as he pulled away.

"I'll be back as soon as possible."

No words formed on her lips. She sighed and stood next to the limo outside her hotel and watched him climb back inside. She swayed on her feet until his limo took off down the street. For once in her life, romance seemed impossibly possible. She hugged herself and then floated inside the hotel.

The people in the lobby were either into their own conversations and ignored her, or they stared at her. She didn't care and walked right to the elevator bank. As she pressed the button, a familiar voice called out from the crowd.

Belle stopped as Em darted through a crowd to stand beside her. "There you are."

Someone snapped her picture as she hugged her friend. "Em, I am here to find you and the guys."

"We thought you were going to stay forever at Chez Morgan and forget about the little people."

"Never."

Em shrugged. "This hotel is nice."

If she had stayed at her original hotel, the staff would have had no idea how to keep people away from her. Belle pressed her lips together and realized people were standing around them.

"It was the wedding hotel, where the guests all stayed."

Em smiled like she had a secret. "Or it's the place where Mr. Monopoly will be seen."

"Peter has a name."

Belle's cheeks burned. She must have blushed. She stepped into the elevator and wiggled for her friend to follow. Em didn't move.

"Let's talk in my suite where ears aren't listening."

Belle pressed her lips together, and then Em stepped inside.

As the doors closed, Em's eyes widened. "Wow, cameras are all over you now."

She shook her head. "I guess. Peter's family drama shouldn't be in the newspaper."

"The lifestyle of the super rich family who has a habit of returning from the dead and stopping weddings is gossip for the rest of us."

"Whose wedding was stopped?"

"Yours."

“Ohh.” Her entire body grew warmer. It was time to change the topic. She took a deep breath. "No. I'm okay. There was no real drama with me. Em, do you know what it's like to be swept off your feet?"

"Truthfully, no. I thought it was some story that the movies all like to sell."

The elevator dinged, and they stepped off. Belle found her room key as she answered, "After the Marines, I truly never thought I'd land in a place like this."

She intended to throw open the door, but she dropped the key. She lowered her gaze to pick up the keys as her friend said, "Is it a forever kind of love or just a fling?"

She flinched and waved the key to open the door. "Why?"

"Belle, you aren't capable of meaningless flings. It was why I voted against you and Mr. Owns-All-The-Banks. Are there any other clothes for me to pilfer through?"

"Not today."

They both stepped inside. Belle expected her to gasp, but her friend stared at her and waited for an answer.

Belle shrugged. "You don't get a vote in my life, and all I know right now is that he asked me to stay for New Year's and I intend to."

Em twirled around her feet and must have stared at the room. Belle walked past and dropped her bag on the side table near the couch.

"Is he throwing a huge blowout or am I interrupting some big romantic vacation with just my presence in your room?" Em asked.

"Don't be silly. He has a meeting, and I wanted to spend time with you." She took off her heels and left them on the floor. "He did say you're invited to a party soon. And that he'd ensure you meet all the rich eligible men there."

"What if I don't want a pretentious jerk who thinks his bank account matters?"

"Peter's not like that." Belle smiled. Now that was her best friend. She went over and brushed her hand on her shoulder. "He also said he'd have the driver take you to a bar where you can meet regular, non-rich guys. Totally up to you."

Em stepped away and had her mouth wide open. "You had this conversation with Peter Morgan about me?"

Belle nodded. "Of course. You're my friend."

Em went toward one of the balconies. "This is a fairy tale here in Miami. I can't imagine you'd ever want to return to DC."

"This is like a dream." Belle then pointed to the other side. "Check out both balconies. And don't forget that ceiling. It's hand-painted."

Em shook her head as she glanced up. "I'd want to stay here, forever."

Belle rolled her shoulders. She needed to change out of these clothes and take a fast shower. She folded her hands in her lap.

"Life isn't a dream or a fairy tale. I'm just going to enjoy my time here."

"Well I'd be sad to lose one of my best friends, especially since I thought you were going to stick it out in DC with me. We were going to end up single and adopting cats. Now it’s a solo plan."

“You deserve more.” Belle's heart constricted. "I don’t have a plan for my future anymore. For Colt, the choice was easy, Em. I didn't want to be here."

"For Mr. Monopoly, though, it seems you do."

"I don't have an answer yet."

Em shrugged. "I hope it lasts, hon. I'll round up the guys. Meet me downstairs in a half an hour. Let's go shopping."

She hugged herself. "Sounds perfect."

As they strolled down a street named Miracle Mile, Belle held open the door for her friend. She stepped into the blast of air conditioning and released her breath.

Em said, “Too bad the boys thought shopping too girly.”

"Em, have you ever dated a guy who gave you butterflies in your stomach?"

She winked. "I only date men who can do that."

Her face felt warm. "I've only dated two men in my life. My high school boyfriend lasted into college. Then when I joined the Marines, I met Colt, and we dated until recently."

Em picked up a dress and then put it down. "And now you're on the cover of newspapers as the woman that might tame Mr. Monopoly."

She flinched. "I told you to stop calling him that."

"Fair enough, though I bet your Peter would be sexy even in a top hat and carrying a cane."

"Maybe he would." She crossed her arms as she flitted to another dress. "But Peter is not a board game."

"What is he then?"

"Sweet."

Em's voice became droll. "This is how you are constantly in a relationship, isn't it? You always only see the good in the guy you're with."

She dropped her hands to the side. "Em, what are you talking about?"

She glanced in the mirror and not at her. "All the guys we're friends with are friends because you compliment them, ask them about their families. Now you're getting one of the richest, most powerful men under your spell, and you don't even see it that way."

Belle plopped her hands to her sides. "I am just being me."

Em shook her head but then went to study the dress she held. "I just hope that one day some guy who gives me those good flutters in the stomach finds me half as good as you."

She placed her hand on Em's wrist. "Em, you're not making any sense."

She slammed the hanger back on the rack with the dress on it. "Look, I truly only want you to be happy. Then one day you can teach me how you do it."

A new man was something to be happy about. She licked her lips and steered her friend toward the door. "Let's try to have fun. What are we shopping for?"

The bright sunshine never stopped here. Eighty degree weather for Christmas felt strange. She motioned for them to enter a small bookstore as Em answered, "Something for my parents to make them less sad."

Now Belle felt horrible. She held her breath. "You didn't have to come to the wedding or stay in town."

Em shook her head and stared at the touristy stuff. "Mom's cancer isn't going away, and she wanted me to go. I promised her I'd be home soon."

Belle exhaled and stepped closer to her friend to whisper, "Cancer sucks. It's how my mom died when I was a kid. If I can do anything..."

"You already do." Em kept her gaze down and didn't move. "Keep her in your prayers and thoughts. I'm hoping Mom beats it."

Belle placed her hand on Em's shoulder, but Em swatted her away. "Of course. I hope your mom survives. She's lovely."

She shrugged and dropped her hands to her sides. "Yes, Mom's great."

Belle held up a horribly cheesy Miami coffee mug and placed it back on the shelf. "Then we better get started on our mission."

"What mission?"

She gazed at Em, who studied her. "To get your mom things that will cheer her up."

"Mom wants me to be happy more than anything else."

She lifted her head. "Then be happy."

"She wants me to find a husband, but we both know I'm destined to be single forever." Em stepped away, almost like she was ashamed. Then she placed a silly hat on her head and modeled it. "What do you think of this wolf hat?"

Belle covered her lips not to laugh. "It will look fabulous in your legal career as you meet your clients. You can represent all the wolves. And no, you don't have to be single."

"I've not met a guy I can stand being with for more than a few months." Em tugged the hat off her head and put it down. "Wolves would be nicer clients."

"The life of a lawyer."

Belle turned toward the huge window and saw Peter and his strong shoulders, which had held her tight last night. The door chimed as it opened, and Belle fixed her hair behind her ear.

"There is Peter. He's early."

Em's mouth dropped open. "I get to meet Mr. Monopoly here?"

She turned to her friend and swallowed. "Be nice. His name is Peter Morgan."

A moment later, he wrapped his arms around her, and she smelled his woodsy scent. A lightness entered her heart as she hugged him. "Peter."

"Belle."

"You're early."

He pulled away, but the flutters in her stomach remained. Then he took her hand and laced their fingers together.

"The meeting ending with everyone telling me yes. It makes it faster if I stare down my employees until they comply."

She smiled. His brown eyes were mesmerizing. She could see how someone who didn't know him might be intimidated. "Well, that is one strategy."

He stared at Em's blonde hair and blue eyes. "Introduce me to your friend."

She opened her mouth. She had almost forgotten the world existed. She then shook her head.

"Peter Morgan, this is Emily Callahan. Em, this is Peter Morgan."

He held out his hand to shake hers. "Nice to meet you."

She shook his hand, and Belle felt her pulse increase. Peter kept his other hand around her waist, as he said, "Emily, I hope you don't mind, but I had my secretary create a calendar of options for you later today. I want to steal Belle away, but she's been worried about you. So how does jet skiing or a midnight kayak adventure or anything else sound?"

Her lips parted. "I'm going jet skiing?"

He handed her a folder. "Anything you want. The adventure's on me."

She clutched it to her chest like she would refuse to let it go. "This sounds way fun, and I'm sure the guys will love spending time without me. But do you think I could talk with my friend tomorrow for a little while? Coffee or something like that?"

Belle's heart fell in her chest. "Of course, Em. We're always friends."

Em sashayed to the door. "So now that it's settled, let's get lunch so you can be whisked away on your romance, and I'll head off on my adventure."

Belle held him still as Em went forward. She then whispered to him. "Peter?"

He scratched his head. "Yeah?"

She lowered her gaze. "I don't want to be the girl who ditches her friend for a guy."

He traced her face with his hand. "You aren't. You're sweet. She's going to have fun tonight, and right now we'll get lunch together. Relax."

Em motioned for them to come to the door. Belle and Peter followed.

Belle nodded. "Thank you for thinking of Em."

He whispered in her ear, and his breath tickled her neckline. "I did it for selfish reasons."

"And those were?"

"I wanted to spend the evening, alone, with you."

"Yes." She gazed at the ground and ignored the sunshine that hit her head. Em stayed in front of them. "We do have to ensure you stay calm and peaceful."

He held her waist and didn't let go. "It's funny how you clam up in public, Belle. Are you ashamed to hold my hand?"

"I'm not used to being showy on the street."

Em didn't look back. Belle tried to tell her heart to stop its double take near Peter, but it was impossible. Peter's presence set her off course.

Then he whispered in her ear as they strolled down the street, "And we still have to talk about how you're my girlfriend, in private."

This was so perfect. She never thought she'd fall for Peter, but it was getting too hard to say no.

Chapter Nineteen

Peter sat next to Belle and across from her friend Em. Belle's natural apple smell whet his appetite, and he told the waitress who came for their order, "Pollo con quimbobó y platanos."

Belle's eyebrows raised. "What chicken meal did you just order?"

He leaned closer and placed his hand on her knee. He had to touch her in some small way. "This is Miami. I ordered the chicken with okra and plantains."

Belle then told the waitress, "I'll have the same thing."

Her friend read the menu again and said, "I'd like a cheese burger plate with fries."

As the waitress took the menus and left, Belle said, "You should try new foods, Em."

Em shrugged. "New Year's is coming up. I'll make a resolution to change then. Right now I need comfort. Either of you have one yet?"

"One what?"

"Resolutions?"

Peter nodded. Belle's friend clearly liked to lead the conversation. "I'm hoping to balance my life more this year."

Belle's gaze turned to the sky, as if she went into deep thought. "This year was a tidal wave for me. I'd like next year to simply be more like a regular wave in the ocean. I'll make my resolutions soon."

Em shook her head. "Belle is always hard on herself. Don't let her pessimism stop you, Peter."

Belle crossed her arms. "I am hard on myself."

Belle's smile lit up his heart and made him feel lighter. He massaged her knee. "Em's getting worried about the alligators."

"Stay with the tour, and do what the guide says." He swallowed water as the waitress delivered the food. When she left he said, "Always respect nature."

Em sipped her soda as she gazed at him. "That goes for humans too, no?"

He picked up his fork and shrugged. "Most especially in business. Instincts go hand in hand with goals."

As they all chewed their first bite, Em wiped her lips and asked, "So what are your intentions for my friend?"

Peter squeezed Belle's knee. "Excuse me?"

Em's gaze drifted to Belle. "Do you want to marry Belle and help her raise unborn children?"

Belle's lips parted. She wiped her lips and shook her head. "Em, that's a little extreme."

Em played with a french fry in her hand as she turned her head back to Peter. "No it's not. The lawyer in me wants to protect you.”

Belle’s face turned red as she shook her head. “That’s nice...”

Em placed her hand on Belle’s but never let her gaze even blink as she stared at him. “So is it? Most men and women dream about having families. Raising their children, watching them grow up to be happy. Belle shouldn't be stuck with someone who doesn't want those things."

Peter finished a bite of his food as he assessed her.

Belle turned her knees closer to him as she said to her friend, "I don't even know if that's in the cards for me or what I want, Em. Don't make assumptions."

"We all know you're worth it, Belle."

Peter’s deep voice then said, "Your friend is right. You are worth far more than you realize."

They all ate a few bites in silence. Em broke the quiet. "I'm just trying to protect you, and your Peter Morgan doesn't strike me as Mr. Monopoly anymore."

"Mr. Monopoly?" He gently massaged Belle's knee under the table. "I haven't been called that to my face in a while."

Belle pressed her lips together. "She read it in the newspaper."

"It was one of the more amusing names I have been called."

Em gulped her glass of water and then turned toward him. Em lowered her gaze and said, "Lunch was nice. Have fun."

Belle reached across the table and squeezed her friend's wrist.

Em nodded. "Go. I'm getting a fabulous vacation out of the deal."

As they walked out of the restaurant, the sun hit his skull. He hadn't walked in public like this in years. Belle laced her fingers in his as they strolled down the street.

At the corner she whispered, "You should find the time to talk to your mom."

"I don't want to think about that."

Both of his siblings stepped out of a chauffeured town car with frowns on their faces as they approached. Vicki caught them first. "Peter, there you are."

Peter stood straighter. They had something to say, and he'd take the brunt of whatever this was now. "John. Victoria. It's nice to see you. I thought you were leaving on your honeymoon, Vicki?"

John widened his stance. "You left Mom alone in your house."

Peter pressed his lips together and waited for the rest of it. "I did."

John's shoulders tightened as he crossed his arms. "You don't have to be like Dad. He was a careless jerk, and leaving her alone was just cold."

Peter gazed at Vicki. They both believed the same thing. He met John's stare, but then Belle squeezed his hand as she stepped in front of him, "Wait a minute. Peter remembers his mother and he has to come to terms with his memories and her showing up at his door. You have your mother because of Peter, so give him space so he can find his own way. Don't judge him."

Belle was brave. He placed his hand on her shoulder, but he had a feeling in a real fight she'd never need backup.

Vicki jumped and took John's arm to pull him back. "We're sorry, Peter. John wanted to put you in Dad's place so he could yell at someone. It wasn't right. I'll get him home to his wife."

The last thing he needed was distance with his siblings that had only recently come back into his life. He licked his lips. "Thanks, Vicki, and go on your honeymoon."

She turned her head to give him her profile, "After your New Year's party. The cruise we recently booked is going to be amazing."

He waited until his siblings left them alone. His hand was still on her shoulder as she stood like she'd guard him. He massaged her arm to get her to turn around. She retook his hand as they took their first steps.

"Thank you, Belle. No one's ever even tried to stand up for me."

She let out a sigh. "You deserve it."

No one thought that about him. As they passed a store that flashed beachwear, his heart immediately thought of his yacht and how alone he had been with her there. He stopped and held her hand until she stopped too.

"Belle, if I buy you a swimsuit, will you come to the yacht with me. I don't want to keep running into people."

"Will you find time to talk to your mother?"

"Yes. But I can't right now."

"You will." A small blush appeared on her face. "I'll buy my own. The store right here has bathing suits. Let's go there fast, and I'll figure something out."

He kept his hand on her back as they entered the store. She went right to the one piece suits and flipped through the rack for her size.

A sales clerk raced over to her. "Is there any way I can help? Whatever one you like the best, please tell me your size and I'll see if we have it in the back."

Belle handed her a few of her choices as she continued to browse. "Thank you for holding these. You're super helpful."

The sales clerk's gaze clearly recognized him as she answered, "Just doing my job."

Belle picked out ten and then nodded like she'd be fast. "Okay, I like these. Is there a dressing room?"

He reached for his phone to check his messages as the clerk said, "This way, mamisita."

Belle's brown eyes cracked as her lips parted. "I'm not a mom. I didn't even have one."

"She meant no harm." Peter stared at Belle. Her presence calmed him, and he liked that feeling. He kept his phone in his hand and didn't look at it as he stared at her. "It's just an expression."

She winked at him and followed the salesclerk into the dressing area. "Peter, I'll be right back."

He found a seat near the window, which must have been set up specifically for men to wait. The couch's cushions were sturdy as he read a few emails. His secretary needed a raise. He read another email about the financial portfolio of a mortgage lender as the doorbell chimed. He ignored the sound until Jennifer's Chanel perfume filled the air.

He placed his phone down. "What are you doing here?"

She slipped onto the couch next to him. "Peter, I never dragged you into places like this."

He stood. He'd not touch her ever again. "Places like what?"

Her nose curled as she stood like she was ascending royalty. "Retail stores."

He widened his stance and glanced at the sales clerk near the register. "Jennifer, I'm waiting for Belle."

Jennifer shrugged her well-moisturized shoulder that was designed to shine. "Oh, you're still with your monthly challenge."

He clenched his jaw. "What?"

She brushed against his arm like they were friends or more. "At the rehearsal dinner, you and your brother weren't exactly alone when you made that bet. Peter, I am surprised at the lengths this bet has taken."

He jerked his arm away from her and shook his head. "Jennifer, you should go."

Belle's voice echoed in the store. "Peter, who are you talking to?"

The salesclerk's eyes were wide open as he called out, "I'll be free when you come out, Belle. Don't worry."

The salesclerk then rushed into the dressing room.

Jennifer cackled but kept her voice low, like they shared a secret. "Lying to the new girlfriend is hardly the best way to start a relationship."

Belle knew about the bet. He pocketed his cell phone and then tensed his body.

"Jennifer, whatever power or knowledge you think you have, you don't. I'd suggest walking out the door and leaving us alone."

Her mouth fell open like she was shocked, but he knew she mimed everything to make every moment larger than life. "Peter, don't be like that."

He stared at the dressing room door and not at her. "Goodbye."

Her voice was sing-song as she took his arm. "You used to find me interesting."

Then he gazed at her like he would destroy someone across the boardroom that crossed his path. "I used to think you were all that was left."

She crossed her arms, clearly unable to understand he didn't want her. "Excuse me."

The dressing room made noises. Belle would return, and his heart would be calm again.

Right now he had a storm that raged inside his chest, as he pointed to where Jennifer stood. "Leave. Now."

She tried to take his hand, but he pulled it out of her clutches. "Okay, Peter, I'm leaving, but I want to say I will always love you."

His eyes narrowed like she was about to be his prey in an attack. "You'll always love my money."

She flew out the door.

A moment later, Belle pressed on his shoulder, and it was like the sun that came after a hurricane as she said, "Peter who was that?"

He normally never answered personal questions to anyone. His dad's voice rang in his head, but then he turned and stared into her brown eyes. He took her hand and kissed it.

"Jennifer. Today is going from bad to worse. Let's just get to the yacht."

The salesclerk had wrapped the bag. Belle took her hand out of his and flashed her debit card out like she was in a race. He stepped away and pressed a button on his phone. As she finished paying, the limo stopped in front of the store. He held the door for her and led her out.

On the street as waited for her to scoot, she squeezed his arm. "Your phone is ringing."

He held it as he joined her in the limo. Then he stared at the caller ID. "It's my secretary. It must be important."

She nudged him with her elbow. "Answer it."

"I won't be a moment. You'll have my full attention." He adjusted his legs as he sat, and the limo driver took off. Then he answered, "Hello?"

"Mr. Morgan, your mother keeps calling. In all these years, I didn't know you had a mother. I need instructions on how to field these calls, sir."

He closed his eyes. The last thing he needed was knowing how to answer questions on how to deal with his mother too. She had left the house and never returned. Right now he reimagined the day he was a boy and sat on the steps as she stormed out the front door.

He swallowed and thought if she could storm out the door, she could have taken him with her. She didn't, though. The thought haunted him, though he didn't say anything.

Instead he laced his fingers with Belle and told his secretary, "You've been more of a mother to me all these years. Please tell my mother that I'm busy and will call her later. Once I create a battle plan, I'll let you know."

Belle mouthed to him 'battle plan.' He read her lips.

His secretary then ended the call in her usual fashion, "Very good, sir. Goodbye."

As he hung up the phone, Belle reached out and placed her hand on his cheek. "Battle plan. Family isn't a war zone. There is no one shooting at you."

This wasn't what he wanted to talk about. Belle's gently fingers were lady-like and was the only part of his life at the moment that offered him safe haven.

He let her brush his five o'clock shadow as he said, "It feels that way. We're here. Can we forget about the rest of the day and what life brings us and just relax?"

She kept her voice low, as she said, "Hmm. Okay. One condition."

"Besides speaking to my mother?"

"Yes, besides that."

He'd give her anything. His heart soared. "What's that?"

She winked and took her hand back, though she met his stare with her own. "Let's talk about how you want to work out the whole girlfriend question. I want details."

The limo stopped at the dock. He'd have kissed her, but he'd prefer no more interruptions. Once they were gone, they'd be alone, and he could wrap his arms around her.

He offered his hand as they stepped outside. "Perfect. I have champagne waiting."

Chapter Twenty

As soon as the yacht took off, Peter's shoulders dropped considerably. He seemed almost human as he filled her wine glass. This week had been out of this world, and despite his stress, he'd been nothing but a gentleman. Her mind screamed to get details before her heart became his.

Despite the thought, Belle's body hummed as they sipped wine in the afternoon sunshine on his air-conditioned yacht. The wine was perfect, crisp but sweet, like him. She glanced at him, and he let the sunshine hit his face with his eyes closed. He seemed relaxed.

She scooted her chair closer to him, and brushed his arm as she asked, "How are you?"

He reached out and placed his hand on her knee again. Clearly he was peaceful. He massaged her gently. "I'm happy you're here."

She sipped her wine and wondered what it would be like to make love to him in the afternoon with no one around. Both other times had been at night where they had fallen asleep. She licked her lips and studied his profile as she recharged her nerves.

"Peter, this whole girlfriend thing, it comes with perks?"

His eyebrows lifted, and he turned to stare at her. His brown eyes narrowed as he leaned closer. "What kind of perks do you want?"

She swallowed. Perhaps she'd get details later and told herself it was better to not know. She let her legs run up and down his. "Your undivided attention as you touch me everywhere."

He took both of the wine glasses and placed them on the table beside him with the wine bottle as she stood and then sat on his lap.

"Belle, I'm surprised."

"So that's a no?"

She wrapped her legs around him and felt his growing erection. This was what she wanted right now. They were utterly alone, and his staff would not enter without him summoning anyone. No one could see them inside his yacht with the black windows. She leaned down and kissed the space between his ear and his neck.

"I guess I'll stop."

He wrapped his arms around her, and his hands roamed all the way to her butt. Tingles of awareness grew over her as he touched everywhere.

"The opposite. It's a yes. I thought I'd have to convince you."

This was it. She leaned behind her and lifted her dress in the air. She threw it across the room and stayed on his lap. His eyes drank in what they saw as she unclasped her bra and threw it onto her dress. Then she leaned forward and grabbed his belt buckle.

"Peter, you need TLC right now."

He swallowed. His erection grew, though he pressed his lips together as he said, "You don't have to..."

Her lips curled up as she leaned just a fraction of an inch toward his mouth and whispered, "This is what I want, and you said I could have whatever I wanted."

"True."

He closed his eyes and kissed her. He was hard, demanding, and he lifted her as he stood, carrying her across the room. She lowered her legs as he placed her on an adjacent couch. She laid on her back, though she sat to watch him strip his shirt and pants off. She then reached down and threw her panties with her other clothes.

He dropped everything in a pile and came toward her on the couch. She leaned down as his lips suckled her breast. A sigh escaped her as he stopped, but then he moved to her other breast.

Her hands wrapped around his naked body as her own quaked in a sea of desire. Then his lips moved upwards and he kissed her.

She could taste him, and she was hot. He quickly rolled a condom, and her body was lax as she accepted his length inside her.

His voice was gruff as he asked, "How about this? Do you like this?"

"Peter...wow."

She couldn't say anything else, panting as he pushed in and out of her. Heat built inside, and she lost the ability to think. Fireworks exploded inside her as he once again ejaculated.

She couldn't move she was so relaxed and warm. Peter leaned over her and stared at her as consciousness returned to her body. She licked her lips and stared into the eyes of a concerned man. His eyebrows angled down as he stared at her. She swallowed and tried to find her voice. She sighed. He was in so many ways the perfect man.

Her lips curled into a smile and then asked, "What's wrong?"

"Belle..." He pressed a short kiss on her lips, and she moaned. Then he petted her hair until she stared at him again. He didn't blink as he said, "You deserve better than me."

She sat fast and covered her breasts. She shook her head and refused to look at him. "Everyone always says that about me right before they leave."

His hand went to her knee again, and he massaged it until she looked at him. Her heart stopped its fast racing as she licked her lips.

He then whispered, "I'm more afraid of losing you."

A surge of something in her blood grew. She leaned into his muscular chest and stared at his big hands. "Really?"

He kissed the top of her head. "Belle, I've never been with a woman who didn't want me for my money. The price tag meant that no one wanted me for me. I could keep my distance. With you, it's like I'm seeing the world differently."

She sat and kissed him as her pulse quickened. "Peter, that's sweet."

He winked at her, "Don't do that, sweetheart, or you'll get me excited again."

A quiver erupted in her at the thought. She pressed her head on his shoulder. "I like you out of control."

He massaged her shoulders. "Likewise."

Neither of them spoke or moved for a while. They stared out at the ocean. No land was anywhere in sight. They were completely alone, except for his staff. She covered her lips. She had never been so free with herself before. She began to laugh.

He asked, "What's so funny?"

She tried to contain her giggling, but it grew worse. Her belly hurt from laughing so hard. Finally she managed, "Everyone always says I'm so wound up with a million things to do that I never let myself go. Clearly I was just waiting for you."

He hugged her. "Belle, you're the best Christmas present."

The telephone in the corner of the room rang. Peter petted her hair and seemed to ignore the phone.

She sighed and sat. "Your phone is ringing."

His hand returned to her knee. Her heart was light, as he said, "Let it."

The world was shiny and bright right now, but she shrugged, "No, if someone called the ship, it must be super important, or else the captain wouldn't have let it through."

He stiffened. "I guess, but other than you, today has been a day I needed to avoid people."

She rubbed his back as he answered, "Hello?"

His face fell as he said, "She's where?" She hugged his shoulders as he continued, "Have all the bills forwarded to me. Give her the best possible care." Her heart hammered in her chest as he then said, "I don't know when I will arrive." She felt how he stiffened under her touch and stood taller as he finished, "Bye."

He walked away from her, tugged on his boxers, and slumped on the couch. She followed and scooted next to him.

"Peter, what happened?"

He stared at the ocean like he could set it on fire from whatever had just happened. Her heart ached for him, and she placed her hand on his stomach.

He let out a deep breath and said, "My mother is in the hospital."

She swallowed. "What?"

He didn't blink. His shoulders were tense. "She was taken in with pneumonia, but no one is sure. John and Vicki are en route."

She scooted closer to him and smoothed his hair. "Who called you then?"

He turned to face her, and she could see how his entire face went dark. She hugged his shoulder as he said, "My staff."

There was an ache in her throat, but she stayed quiet. "Peter, call the captain. We should go home at once."

His jaw tightened like he was trying to hold himself together, as he shook his head. "I don't know."

Her eyes misted to cry for him, but she tried to give him an understanding nod. "What don't you know?"

He jerked to his feet to isolate himself. "If she lives through this, then she'll want to speak to me. I don't want to cause her more pain."

She fumbled for her words as she stayed in her seat to let him pace. When he stopped, she stroked her own throat as she asked, "Peter, what are you saying?"

His hands clenched as his body tightened. "I don't know if I can forgive her."

She didn't say anything for a few minutes. He paced, but then he sunk back onto the couch beside her with his shoulders pushed into the cushion. She curled her legs beside him, but didn't say anything.

His hands eventually patted her leg. "Do you think I'm horrible?"

She wished she could alleviate this for him. He was so used to total control but had no idea how to open up to his family.

She petted his leg. "No. You're in pain."

He sat and stared into her eyes like she was a mythical priestess with all the answers. "How do I stop feeling like I let everyone down?"

She never had answers when it came to emotional stuff. She worried if she didn't help him, though, he'd be in an endless cycle of pain. He deserved better.

She licked her lips as her heart led her words. "Sometimes we all have to move on."

He narrowed his gaze. "What does that mean?"

She met his stare and realized she had to speak up. This was what she'd do. This was how she had accepted her stepmother into her life after years of being the only girl in the house.

She tilted her head and said, "She's in your life again. You don't have to be close. It might be easier for you if you go and say 'hello, how are you doing?' Let her see that you're there and be polite. That was what worked for me, and eventually I liked my stepmother well enough. She makes my dad happy."

His shoulders slumped and he averted his gaze. "I don't know if I can do that."

She handed him his shirt, which had still been on the floor with his pants. Then she straightened out his pants. "Why not? You have everything you need."

He took the pants from her and laid them beside him with his shirt. He then stared at the ocean again as he said, "I was on the stairs as she stormed out of the house. Earlier, before the fight, she had laid Vicki down in the crib and kissed her forehead. I followed her that night. As she fought with Dad, I sat there waiting for her. She flew past me with her arms clenched at her sides and threw open the door. I spent years wishing she had taken me with her."

With a heavy nod, her chest ached for him. She wasn't sure how she'd be any different if the roles were reversed. She sighed. "You did?"

He shook his head and didn't look away from the waves the ship made in the water. "Then I spent my entire adult life hating her."

She had to phrase this right so she did not upset him, and hoped he'd see the situation in a better light. "What about your father, Peter? I've heard unkind things from all of you, but I don't know what he did to you."

His shoulders were still tight, but he turned to her. His face was etched in a heavy load he had borne all his life. "I was to take the reins of Morgan Enterprises after he left, and rule the House of Morgan as he saw fit."

The House of Morgan seemed a horrible way to phrase family. She narrowed her gaze. "What does that mean?"

He blinked and then stared at the floor and counted on his fingers. "To quote a few things from my dad said, let's see...to not think with my heart about anything other than work. To ensure the success of Morgan Enterprises above even my own health. To not let family ever get in the way of what's best for myself. And you don't want to get me started on how I'm to view women. Mitch Morgan was a spoiled, bitter man who always got whatever he wanted."

She held her breath. She now believed his mother. No father should talk like that to his own son. Her hands clenched like she might fight his father too.

"So you believe he could have kidnapped your mother that night?"

For a long while he didn't say anything. The ship continued to sail away from Miami. Then he slumped his shoulders. "I absolutely believe that. As I said, I hated her for leaving me there."

She licked her lips. It was time for him to go. She rubbed her arms and then stared at the phone. "Peter, turn the ship around."

The couch shifted beside her as he moved. He walked to the phone, but as he picked it up, he said, "Okay, but, Belle. When I'm done at the hospital, can I come to your hotel room?"

Her heart swelled. She nodded her head and offered a weak smile. "Absolutely."

Chapter Twenty One

Peter wrapped his arms around hers as Belle stepped out of the limo. The bright sun of Miami and the warm breezes tempered her, or maybe it was the way he held her tightly. Her lips sought his, and she was lost in a sea of happiness. His kiss captured her entirely.

He stepped away. "See you in a few hours, maybe less."

The Marines had taught her she'd be fine in any situation. She reached up and hugged his neck.

"Take your time with your mom."

She placed a kiss on his cheek and stepped away.

He nodded at her and repeated himself, "I'll be back for you."

“I’ll be here then.” She refused to budge until he stepped into his limo. Her heart wished him well. He needed to make peace with his mother. She widened her stance on the sidewalk as she watched the limo drive down the palm-tree-lined driveway and out of sight.

She turned on her heels and carried her bathing suit bag into the elegant hotel with the amazing painted ceilings.

Belle knew she wouldn't be able to sleep the moment the limo dropped her off at her hotel. She picked up her phone and texted her best friend, Em, anyhow.

Where are you?

At the shipyard changing into my gear for the evening. How is your date with Peter?

He'll get me later. His mom's in the hospital.

That's too bad. Thanks for letting me know. Maybe I can leave early, and we can do something.

No, don't. Have fun. Peter is coming back.

Talk later. Bye.

She was alone, and her body was jittery with too much adrenaline. Every cell in her body craved to do something, but she wasn't sure what.

As she marched through the lobby, where families gathered and someone took her photograph, she crossed her arms. Peter should take hours with his mother.

She thought about reading, but right now, she couldn't get her mind to settle. She marched into the hotel and then saw the word 'spa' on a brochure. A good massage might make her less anxious and more open to Peter when he came back. He'd probably be wound up tight, and she hoped to be a good listener.

She went to her room and dropped off her bag. The spa idea played in her mind. She stared out her balcony as people danced in a courtyard and had drinks. The party never stopped there.

Then she marched out of her room and through a different courtyard, which played light samba music, and into the sunshine. The people at the pool drank and others swam in the blue waters. Parrots squawked in the palm trees. At the cabana, more people congregated with drinks. Clearly this was vacation heaven.

She stepped into the salon and Miss Hair, Makeup and Clothes were all there. Miss Hair was behind the front desk as she worked on someone's hair. Miss Makeup was also with a client to her left as she sold some products.

Miss Clothes was at the front desk and asked, "How may we serve you today Ms. Jordan?"

She stared at the brochure with the menu of options. "I'd like a massage."

Miss Clothes smiled. "Would you like that in your room or in our spa?"

She hadn't thought to stay in her room. She didn't want to be alone right now anyhow. It was better to be lost in a crowd.

"Here is fine."

"Please have a seat, and I will get a masseuse for you now."

Her skin was alert and active. The sounds of harps and bells in the light spa music already relaxed her.

"Are you ready?" Belle stood and nodded her head. The woman smiled and turned to lead her. "Of course. This way."

Miss Clothes walked with perfect poise. Belle's hips did not swing like hers. Belle stampeded with a brisk military straight line, though she wore heels. Miss Clothes pointed to a dressing room and handed her a warm bathrobe.

"Your masseuse will be Katerina. Please change here, and she will come and get you in a moment."

The sounds of nature mixed with a flute played in her ear. This place was tranquil.

Belle nodded and walked inside. "Thank you."

She was in one of the changing rooms, wrapping the robe around her, when she heard footsteps. She assumed it was the masseuse and called out, "I'll be out in a moment."

No one said anything, but someone was outside in the lounge. Belle could hear them. She folded her clothes and ensured the robe was tight around her as she stepped out. She rolled on her feet the moment she saw Jennifer. Part of her wanted to go into the changing room and stay. She didn't though. She marched forward.

Jennifer sipped a Bellini, the signature drink of the hotel, and stood the moment she saw her. "Belle Jordan, is that you?"

"Jennifer, Peter's ex?"

Belle proceeded to a locker and ensured Jennifer couldn't see the passcode.

As she returned to the couch, Jennifer sipped her cocktail and smiled. "Funny seeing you here."

She was here to cause trouble. Belle crossed her arms. She'd not bait the woman who clearly wanted Peter.

"I am staying at the hotel. What are you doing here?"

Jennifer didn't flinch. She relaxed in her seat as her skin glowed with radiance. Spa living must be good at hiding the inside of a person. Belle sat and stared at the door, hoping the masseuse came. "I live in Coral Gables, and this is my usual spa, at least until Calm Serenity opens officially. I can’t wait to go there."

“I don’t know what that is. I’m not from here. I find it strange you are at my hotel.”

“This hotel is pretty historic.”

Belle lifted one of her eyebrows to give her most quizzical ‘don't feed me nonsense' face she had used on people under her supervision. "So you followed Peter and me shopping earlier too?"

Jennifer swallowed and then saluted with her glass. "He told you?"

Belle pressed her lips together. This was the last person she'd choose to talk to, but any moment this little episode would end. She glanced at the door.

"Of course. We don't have secrets."

Jennifer's smile was like a cat staring at its prey. An instant coldness raced down Belle's spine as Jennifer said, "Interesting. Well I didn't take you as a spa type. I thought I’d be safe enough from the lovebirds."

This was taking too long. Her heart began to race as she sat here. She didn't look at Jennifer.

"Perhaps it's better if we simply read until our appointments start."

Jennifer placed her glass on the table. Belle heard the glass clink. Her own skin tingled at the sound.

Then Jennifer said, "You don't want to share Peter. I understand. I didn't either, but then he cheated on me."

Belle tugged on her ear. She'd not turn and give this woman any time. Cheating was not a good characteristic though and she’d ask him for his story soon. "Sorry about that, but so we understand each other, I am here to relax.”

“Of course. I’d be the same if I was you.” Jennifer's sigh filled the air and drowned out the nice piano music mingling with nature as she said, "I'm a little disappointed at this though. If I were you, I'd want to know all about his little bet."

She should have asked for details about the bet. Jennifer had mentioned it at the hospital too. Belle refused to say anything to the woman that reminded her of girls in high school she'd avoid like the plague. Curiosity won though.

"Excuse me?"

Jennifer leaned forward in her seat. "He made a bet that he could date you for a month. He gets ten percent of John's stock in Morgan Enterprises if he keeps you on his arm."

The stakes were high. Peter cared about Morgan Enterprises. She knew she fed Jennifer's ego with her question. Her shoulders tightened as she stared at the door. "I don't believe you."

Jennifer said, "Don't believe me. That's fine. You can ask him yourself about the bet. We both know that Peter doesn't lie when confronted. He will make a plan to ensure that his way ultimately wins."

A month. Now that the question was out there, she'd ask. She had wondered why a man like Peter Morgan would ever talk to her at that party or why he insisted they spend time together. She'd been in such a dark cloud and rude. Now he spent all his time with her.

She swallowed and turned toward Jennifer, who stared at her like a cat that let its prey wander the cage. "When did the bet supposedly start?"

Jennifer waited and let the sounds of harps fill the air. "So you are curious."

Belle swallowed and hugged her waist. "Forget it."

Jennifer sighed. "At the rehearsal dinner, the moment you arrived."

There was no time for that. This had to be a lie. Belle's shoulders straightened for the moment. "He came to speak to me within minutes of my arrival."

Jennifer picked up her glass and played with the rim. "True. Most of the bet was decided before they found the girl he had to date. When you walked in, you became the girl. I tried to warn you."

Footsteps echoed in the hall. Belle's heart beat fast. Then a masseuse dressed in white came in. Belle silently prayed she was Katarina. Then the woman nodded at Jennifer and then her.

"Ms. Jordan, it's time for your appointment."

Belle bounced to her feet. It was time to go. This was too much.

She didn't say goodbye, but then Jennifer called out, "Oh have fun. Katarina is a miracle worker."

In the hallway, away from the waiting room, Belle kept her voice low as she followed the masseuse. "Katarina, is there a way you can work out the kinks caused from talking to Jennifer?"

The woman nodded her head. "Oh yes, absolutely, miss. I have experience. Don't let whatever she said get in your brain. Relax."

Easier said than done. The bet sounded worse and worse. It explained his interest. She knew she should have asked for details, but his mother had returned from the dead. She rubbed her temples as she lay on the table. She tried to close her eyes.

"That's just it. Everything she just said might be true."

Chapter Twenty Two

Peter rushed through the hospital doors and went right to the business office. His mother would never worry about anything financial. He'd take care of this. No one in his family would ever be turned into a pauper or have to ask for anything from anyone.

He signed all the business papers, and then had no more excuse to avoid his mother's room. His sister and brother would likely be in the hospital somewhere, or in the vicinity.

His feet dragged as he made his way to the elevator. He pressed the button with all the enthusiasm he could muster as a little girl then said, "Did your mom just go to heaven too?"

He shook his head. His face must look terrible. He knelt down as he glanced around the empty hospital hall near the elevator. This little girl was all by herself.

He swallowed and stared into her pretty brown eyes. "Is that what happened to yours?"

Her eyes misted as she hugged a small, ripped teddy bear. "Yeah."

She should have someone with her. The day his mother left was the worst day of his life. He glanced at the white walls and lack of security guards. Had the hospital let the girl wander alone without her mother?

He stayed at her eye level. "Is someone coming here for you?"

She waved to a closed office door without moving much. "My grandma and grandpa are with a priest inside there."

This was just for a minute. At least someone was here for her. He let the elevator go as it beeped behind him. There would be another in a moment.

"What's your name?"

She hugged her bear again. "Caroline."

"Caroline."

She clearly loved her mother. If he had a child, he'd want him or her to have the best at everything. His money had paid for Harvard, and if he paid for this girl, it would be written off as a charity exception to his taxes.

He took out his wallet and stared at the door. The grandparents must be upset. He wrote a personal note on the back of his card saying that he'd pay for college for their granddaughter.

"Here is my business card. I want you to keep this and give it to your grandma and grandpa. Tell them, when they are ready, to call me about your college tuition for Harvard or anywhere else. It is what your mom would have wanted for you."

She smiled at him while she studied the card. She bit her bottom lip for a moment and then nodded. "Okay. Thank you P...e...t...er. Peter. Your name is Peter."

A genuine smile of his own grew as he nodded. "She taught you to read."

She rolled her eyes like she was a teenager. "Of course. I'm five."

His eyes widened. "You’re five?"

She giggled and wrapped her arms around him. "Yes."

The door opened and her grandparents and a man in black all came out of the room. The grandmother was clearly crying.

Peter stood and nodded at the girl. "I might need to hire you to work for me one day. I like smart people in my office. Don't forget to give my card to your grandparents."

"Bye."

She ran to her grandparents and handed them his card. The elevator doors opened and people walked out. He stepped inside without another word.

He pressed the button, and the doors closed. In the elevator, he pressed his head on the wall. At least the girl knew what happened to her mother. His own life spun out of lies. Belle's words haunted him to simply 'be polite' as he stepped off the elevator.

The moment the doors opened, his gaze locked on his brother down the hall. Peter straightened his shoulders and walked out. John saw him and waved. Peter's face felt heated. He didn't know what to say or why he was here. He swallowed and joined his brother.

John pressed his hand on his back. "Glad you're here. We thought you weren't coming."

Peter stared into the room, but there was a curtain pulled. He widened his stance and wished he had bought flowers to hold. Instead he stood there and felt awkward.

"I was on my yacht."

John's face lightened. "With Belle?"

Peter placed his hands in his pockets and steadied his feet. "Yes, with Belle."

John turned his head and stared down the hall toward the elevator banks. "Why is she not here?"

His family would like Belle. She was real, and the Morgans all seemed to gravitate toward people that had a clear direction. Until he had met Belle he hadn't thought that important. His face felt hot now.

"I brought her to her hotel. Is Mom inside?"

"Some Doctor Luke hasn't wanted to leave Mom's side, but he finally left." John waved his hands like he might stop him. "Vicki is speaking to her privately. Give them a few minutes."

Peter's stance widened. John and he didn't look at each other. They both stared at the door. "Your new girlfriend went to bat for you today."

“She was trying to protect me.” Peter remembered how she confronted his family. No one had ever done that for him ever. His father had pretty much run his entire life until he died, and Mitch Morgan would have never chosen Belle.

Peter swallowed and tugged on his collar. "She's nice."

John rolled back and forth on his feet without moving them. "That's pretty rare for you."

Peter turned to stare at his brother. If his family didn't approve, it was their own problem, not his. "You told me to date her."

John nodded. "We were only looking out for you. Not everyone only sees dollar signs, and Belle seemed real."

So they did approve. Peter unclenched his hands that he didn't know he'd fisted. He stared at the door.

"You and Alice have good taste."

John snapped his fingers. "So things are going well then?"

Peter tensed. They were now too interested. He would bury himself with something to do, but he stayed absolutely still. He'd see his mother.

"Yeah."

John turned to block the door and stare right at him. "Look, I didn't mean to fight with you. You're my brother."

Peter tried to relax his shoulders. John was only trying to do what he thought was best. Peter pressed his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Don't worry about it."

John rolled on his feet again. "Fair enough. I don't want to fight with either of my siblings."

Vicki then pushed the curtain back as she wiped tears from her eyes. Then she stood and smiled as she hugged the woman's hand.

"Peter. Mom, Peter's here."

This was surreal. The room was all white. As he stepped into the room, he stared at his mother. She had his dark hair once, though now she had more than a few grays. She had brown eyes that had haunted him all his life. In his memory, she was strong, but now he gazed at her wrinkles. She wasn't the same.

He leaned on the tray table someone had left food on. Her gaze stayed on him.

He swallowed and stepped closer. This was like one of his dreams where his mother had come home. He had forgotten that. He ignored everyone else but her as he sat on the bed. Her hands reached out to touch him. He choked on what he'd say and took her hand in his. The monitors beeped from brushing against the instrument attached to her finger.

Peter then heard his siblings, and he turned to them, "Vicki. John. Can I talk to her alone?"

Vicki tugged on their brother's arm. "Of course. Take your time."

Peter stared at his mother, who then reached out to touch his face. His heart ached that she had ended up here. The monitor on her nose clearly measured her breaths. He waited for the clack of footsteps leaving the room to end. Then he reached out and brushed her cheek.

Her eyes watered as he said all the words he could muster, "Hey, Mom."

She tried to sit, but he shook his head. She lay back down, but clutched his hand. "Peter, I wish I wasn't sick. The doctors said they'd just monitor me."

He swallowed his own tears. He then petted her arm. He had pictured her dead so many times.

He tried to smile. "It's okay. You look better than I imagined."

She tried to sit, but the monitor blocked her. Her arms were wide open as she sobbed. "Peter..."

She couldn't say anything else. Her tears filled the room with sound. He wrapped his arms around her and ignored the monitors.

"Don't cry. I'm here."

She hugged him as the monitors beeped. "All these years you were the one I saw in all my dreams and nightmares. You were so close. It was your eyes that followed me across the foyer, and that moment I remembered the most.”

“What?”

“You were my boy, my helper. You always tried to protect me and your siblings. Your lips that curled into a frown when you realized you couldn't stop your father. You followed me everywhere until your father had me taken away. Now you've grown into a handsome man."

For a long while they didn't say anything. As a child, he remembered so many details about his mother. He could have followed her everywhere. He didn't remember.

For now, he held her hand and that was it. She stopped crying and settled into the bed. Silence clung in the air now. He remembered what he had said to Belle.

"Mom, did you see me that day?"

She choked on a tear and then coughed. The monitor on her nose made noises, but then she stopped and wiped her face.

"On the stairs? Yes. You helped me put everyone to bed, and then didn't listen when I tucked you in. I argued with your father that I wanted a divorce, which he denied me. I walked out the front door to get air, nothing more. I would never have left you there."

"I wanted to follow you."

"At the dock, before I was loaded onto the ship, your father told me to consider you dead as you'd never be my boy ever again."

Those words sounded like Mitch Morgan. Peter had heard things like that all his life. His stomach now burned.

"Mom."

"I believed him when he said I'd never see you again." She squeezed his hand and he stared into her eyes. "Peter, I am sorry I didn't hold you as tight as I should have."

This wasn't her fault. He shook his head and wished he had done more to defy his father than he had. He stroked her cheek.

"Don't say that. I was being selfish and scared. When you walked in the door, I didn't know what to do. It was my boyhood dream."

"It was my dream too. I wanted all my children."

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"There is nothing to be sorry for. This was your father's fault. I'm happy you're not like him."

If only that was true. She made that sound she used to make when he made her proud with a present he had made her. He covered his lips and sat there. His mother pressed the button on her bed and moved it to sit up. She straightened her pillows and then squeezed his hand again.

"Peter, tell me about your girlfriend. Is she good to you?"

Belle made him happy. She was sweet. He sat beside his mother and saw her as she was in his memory.

"Mom, Belle and I are new with dating. I think she's too good for me."

Her gaze narrowed, much like Vicki's did when she was deciding for herself. "Why?"

This was it. He had to tell her the truth. "Because I can be a controlling jerk like dad, and she shouldn't end up all alone like you."

Her eyes misted as she petted his hand. "Your father is not the only person inside you.”

“I see him when I look in the mirror.”

“You're your own beautiful soul, and you're also my son, Peter. You even look like me, not him.”

“He taught me to be just like him.”

“But I can see in your eyes that you still have some of me in you too. You still have that protective spirit you had as a child."

She was about to cry again. She started to cough.

Peter jumped off the bed and then said, "Mom, take it easy. We want to take you home."

She finished coughing and held her hand up for him to hold again. "Take your own advice. When I get out of here, I want to sit and have a nice dinner with this girl of yours. Your brother and sister picked out nice people to marry, and I want to see you have the same happiness."

John knocked on the door. "Can we come back in?"

Peter held his mother's hand as he called out, "Sure." Then he met his mother's brown eyes, and again he told her how he felt. "Mom, Dad locked you away for years and had you listed as merchandise in a ledger. You of all people shouldn't believe in love."

Vicki and John went white as they stepped inside the room.

Their mother held out her other hand as she answered Peter. "I want for you what I should have expected for myself. I fell for your dad's good looks and charm, but that doesn't mean you will. Trust your heart."

Vicki took the offered hand. "Is everything okay in here?"

Peter didn't let go. He stared into his mom's face. "Yeah. Mom wants all her children together."

Their mom quickly added, "And happy."

John stood beside Vicki with his hand on their sister's waist. "We are, Mom."

His mother nodded. "I intend to get out of here for Peter's New Year's party. There is a family matter that needs to be done in person and not at a hospital."

"We'll all be there." Vicki added, "It's going to be fun to ring in the New Year together. "Or we can schedule something the day you get out."

"Both will be good." His mother nodded.

Peter stared at his family. With Belle at the party, his life would be complete.

Chapter Twenty Three

Belle paced in her room. Had Peter ended the bet, and why hadn't she asked him for details? She should have. The more Jennifer's words swirled in her mind, the more her shoulders tensed.

As the sun set outside her balcony, a knock reverberated in the air. She inhaled and threw open the door. Peter wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.

Her hands didn't curl around him, though her lips tingled from his taste. Her fingers ached to run through his hair, but she balled her hands together to stay at her sides.

He let her go and stared at her, "What's wrong?"

She used both of her hands and pushed him out of arms reach. Peter walked inside her room and closed the door. She stormed into the living room on the first floor. He followed, and then she turned and crossed her arms.

"Peter, that's the last kiss we should have."

He rubbed his chin as he widened his stance. His stare sent heat through her, and it mixed with the molten hot lava of betrayal.

She clenched her jaw as he asked, "Why?"

Her entire body stiffened as she widened her legs, much like he had. Then she lifted her chin to stare at him.

"I need you to tell me about the bet that you'd date me."

His lips parted, and his eyes grew larger. "What happened that you brought it up now?"

"Details. I should be able to ask for them." Her eyes were going to water, but she refused to cry in front of him. This wasn’t worth being the first time she let herself go. She cleared her throat and then stared at him like he was her enemy at war.

"Is what Jennifer said about the bet true?

"Jennifer..." He stepped closer, but Belle blocked and stood behind the sofa. He nodded his head. "At the party, before you walked in, Colt and John both bet me that I couldn't date any woman I set my mind too. I told you I believed everyone has their price."

No. A bet should not change her life. She stormed past him and headed to the door. As she crossed the living room, Peter brushed against her arm. She froze and then pointed to the door.

"Get out now."

His face was contorted, and he didn't move a muscle. "Just wait, one minute. I thought you knew?"

"At the hospital, Jennifer mentioned it. We had so much else going on that I left it on the back burner. I always wanted to know." If he wasn't going to leave, then she'd have to show him out. Her heart hammered in her chest as she yelled, "I hope you speak to your mom and grow close to your family, Peter. I want the best for you. But right now, I'm upset, and I want you to leave."

He came closer. She was close to tears, and no she'd not let him touch her. She stepped away so that the chair on the other side of the living room forced them to have space.

Peter didn't move, like he didn't want to scare an animal as he said, "Wait, Belle. I called off the bet, long before either of those conversations."

She rolled her eyes. Here came the explanation. Her jaw hurt from clenching it, but it didn't matter right now. He had to leave. She crossed her hands and tapped her foot.

"When? When did you call it off? Before we slept together?"

He nodded with those big, sexy eyes of his. "Yes, actually it was."

Another truth or another excuse? Belle's ears steamed. She covered them and refused to look at him. "I don't want to hear anymore."

He walked around the chair, but kept the distance between them. He was closer to the door. "I'd rather talk about this. Belle, I need you."

Her eyes misted. She'd not cry. She never cried in front of an audience. She kept her body tight, and she swallowed her unshed sobs. Her skin was electrified, and she clenched her hands.

"No, you'd rather convince me that I can overlook this. I was right the first time I met you and I said you should leave me alone."

He took a step toward the door. "I called it off, Belle, at my sister's wedding. It's what we talked about with the brother-sister dance."

His entire family knew. Colt was probably in on this. Everyone loved to ensure her life was miserable. She pointed to the door.

"Lovely. Peter, one day I want to fall in love and be with a guy who finds me attractive and has a heart that's available to me. That's not you. You still think everyone has a price."

His hands fell to his side as his voice cracked. "Belle."

She flew past him and opened the door. "Goodbye."

She refused to look at him as he went out the door. As their arms brushed against each other, the sting of sadness hit her hard. She held together and slammed the door shut the moment he walked outside.

Everything hit her at once. She stared into the room and no longer fought to stop the waterworks. Tears rushed down her cheeks, and she sunk to the floor and hugged her knees. One question swirled in her mind. Was it so hard for a guy to ever truly love her?

Night grew darker in the sky, and Belle could barely stand. She used the door to help her, and her limbs shivered from the cold marble floor. Her tears had dried, but she was so numb.

Her phone beeped that she had a message. Her heart hoped it was Peter as she stumbled across the room to the coffee table. She wiped her face and picked up the phone. She saw it was her friend, and her stomach fell.

She sniffled and asked, Are you back at the hotel?

Yeah, but aren’t you on a hot and heavy date with Mr. Monopoly?

No. He's gone forever.

Forever? I'm coming up.

Belle threw cold water on her face in the bathroom. A minute later, a light knock on the door reverberated in the air. She fixed her dress, and with every step to open it, she wished for Peter, though she didn't know what she'd say now. She flung open the door, and her best friend must have seen her wash away the tears.

“This is bad. You didn’t even cry over Colt.” Em hugged her and said, "Tell me what happened."

Belle stepped away from the door to let her in. She closed the door behind her and waited for the lock. Then she felt the flood of tears that threatened to reemerge. She rocked on her feet as she stepped closer.

"Em, today has been the worst day ever."

Her friend's open eyes just made Belle look away as Em asked, "Why? What happened?"

She folded her hands and slumped into the couch. This was too much. She kept seeing Peter's wide eyes as he stood in the living room with her and said he called it off.

She sniffled and shook her head. "Peter used me to win a stupid bet."

Em's voice was loud, and it pierced through Belle. "He what?"

She couldn't say he called it off while being publicly videotaped for posterity. Every time Colt and Vicki watched their wedding video, the entire Morgan family would remember how Peter had made a bet to date her. Once again, another guy wasn't interested in her, and she had to forget him.

She hugged her stomach and avoided Em's stares. "He used me."

Em sat beside her with one leg on the couch next to her. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm so sorry. You deserved better than that."

She sniffled. Perhaps she was over reacting and should forgive Peter. Right now her entire body felt wretched and numb. Her eyes opened and she peeked at her friend.

"The thing is, though, he said he called it off."

Em shrugged her shoulders. "So?"

The casual shrug was not what she had hoped for. Em should have said 'forgive him because I would.'

Belle's shoulders quaked as she said, "So it means he's still in my heart and part of me wants to forgive him so I can see this through. Can you do something for me tonight?"

Em's gaze narrowed, and she stood up. "What do you need? Alcohol? We can hit the bar and drink away your tears?"

A bar might numb her mind tonight. She purposely took out her phone and charged it in the corner of the room. She'd not be tempted to drunk call Peter if she didn't have her phone. Her throat was sore from crying. She lifted her head.

"Yeah, that sounds good. You know me well."

Em headed to the door fast and smiled as she flung it open. "Let's stop in my room first. I want to change into a nice pair of jeans in case there is a hot guy for me. You're clearly off the market tonight."

This was a dress she had worn to be with Peter. Perhaps her friend was right that she should put on a pair of jeans and her tee shirt. She rushed upstairs and stared at her mother's picture on her bedside.

"I'll meet you there then in five minutes."

"We have a plan." Em walked to the door and let herself out.

The music blared as Belle made her way through throngs of people who sat around and drank. The dance floor under the moon played heavy samba music, and a few of the couples seemed deep into each other. She imagined how Peter might hold her as they made their way across the floor in this dance where hands and bodies moved in fluid motion.

She swallowed and turned away. She saw Em sitting at one of the tables to the side where there were less people. Belle nodded, wiped her hands on her jeans and maneuvered through the crowd.

As she neared the table, someone spilled red wine on her white tee shirt. She wouldn't stay out now. The man apologized, and Belle walked away.

She stood and showed Em the shirt. Em pointed to sit anyhow. Belle sank into the metal seat, so she'd not ruin any white cushions. Em pushed a drink toward her.

Belle stared at it. "I should go change."

"You're not looking for a man," Em said. "I say beep it and you drink your drink while you blast off all the reasons you hate Peter, and yet you want to go back to him."

Belle didn't touch the drink and licked her lips. "I do want to talk about Peter."

Em again reached across the table and pushed the wine glass into her hand. "So ignore the world and tell me. I won't judge, though I did find myself actually approving of Mr. Monopoly for that microsecond we met."

"Don't call him that, though I shouldn't be defending him."

If Peter were here, she'd be tempted to tell him to forget everything she had said. But part of her still felt as if a knife was slicing into her heart, and the pain was intense. She gulped her drink and then winced.

"I don't know what I want to do."

Em clinked her glass with Belle's and then sipped hers. "You know exactly what you want, but the problem is you don't want to admit it to yourself yet."

Right now she didn't have to do anything but hope this wound inside her healed. She sipped and finished her glass. "Is it wrong of me to want a guy who is interested in me?"

"No." Em refilled the bottle without waiting for the staff. "How did this whole bet thing start? How did you find out?"

Belle held the glass in her hand, but then saw how everyone on the dance floor moved in every direction as the music blared in her eardrums.

"Jennifer told me."

"The ex-girlfriend?"

"The same."

Em scooted closer and sipped hers, "And you believe her?"

Belle shook her head no. She'd never forget Peter Morgan.

She clutched the drink and said, "I shouldn't, but I asked Peter, and he admitted that he made a bet to date me before I even walked in the door of the party."

"He admitted it?"

"Actually I knew before Jennifer told me, and didn't ask him about it the first time. It wasn't until Jennifer told me to my face and it felt like derision that I got this upset."

Em clinked her glass again, and Belle tried to block her thoughts of Peter as Em said, "So you are giving Mr. Monopoly to his ex-girlfriend practically wrapped with a bow on his forehead and a tag that reads ‘he’s yours’, without asking yourself if you can let this all go?"

"I can't let him go." Belle gulped her wine. "But Peter has so much on his plate already."

Em sat in her chair. She sipped her drink. "His mother returned. You stood at his side, and you both seemed happy earlier."

Belle massaged her temples. Everything started to slow down. "I was, but I don't like being used. Once I give in, then it's a lifetime of giving in and being ignored."

Em placed her hand on her back. "Why in the world would that happen?"

"It's how my stepmother and father's entire relationship works these days."

"First they are your parents, so they are old fashioned, and second, forgiveness is not about giving in. It's about accepting you're humans who make mistakes."

She was probably right. "I should go find Peter."

She stood. She should have asked for details sooner. She was throwing away her chance, and she refused to continue on this path. Hopefully, Peter would forgive her.

Chapter Twenty Four

Peter unlocked the door to his home. Caro, the maid, ran away like she was frightened, despite the fact she'd been here in the house since she was a baby. Silence greeted his ears, but he smelled Chanel perfume. Now he understood. He narrowed his eyes, as he went toward his bar to fix himself a cocktail. Belle's words haunted him.

Then he heard a high heel click on the floor. His skin had no reaction, and the air was filled with Jennifer's perfume.

He grinded his teeth and called out, "Jennifer."

His eyes widened as she stepped out from the next room in black lingerie that showed off her ample cleavage. He held the empty glass firmly in his hand as he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I missed you."

She sashayed over to him, and the flowery perfume curled his nose. He didn't budge or soften any of his muscles. She came over and wrapped her arms around him.

Her breasts pushed against his chest as she hugged him. "I made a huge mistake when we broke up."

He put the cup down and stepped out of her arms. Then he wiped his shirt like she might have put her makeup all over him.

Once clear of her, he said, "Jennifer, I'm not stupid."

She flinched, but then opened her eyes like she saw through him. Even her makeup was expertly done for this moment.

His body tensed as she said, "I never thought you were."

Once again Jennifer had gone too far, but this time it wasn't other people's lives. It was his. He cracked his knuckles, but then stepped away from her. Belle deserved better than this bitterness.

"Did you honestly think I didn't know about your vindictive streak and how you set out to stop Belle and me?"

Her lips parted as she batted her eyes. Jennifer was like a teenage girl who had never grown up, and she had no idea. Life wasn't like one of her telenovelas. She stepped forward and brushed her cleavage against his arm.

He tugged his hand away as she said, "Is it so wrong I'm not over you? I have told you before, even in high school, you had my heart and soul. We’re good together."

Nothing she did was okay. He'd start at the beginning. There would be no more her coming over here or interfering with his life. Security would alert him from now on, but he'd tell her.

He swallowed. "Months ago, you were hostile to Alice for simply coming to my father's funeral."

"Alice and I are friends now." She covered her lips and shook her head as if her denial mattered. "Peter—"

Her words didn't matter. He interrupted. "Then with Colt you were stuck up and derided my sister's choice."

She rubbed her throat and then put her hands on her hips like she had anything to argue with him about. "Your sister had just come back into our lives. She was my best friend, and she wanted to move to Homestead, Florida. You understood."

He understood. He let her break up with him, so she'd go away without this conversation. Clearly she hadn't moved on.

He glared at her as he said in a low voice, "Jennifer, we don't suit each other."

Again she pushed her body into his as if sex would solve all problems. She pushed him toward the bar. He placed his hands on her hips and spun her around to free himself.

She wrapped her arms around his waist. "Peter, you and I always understood each other."

This delusion had hurt Belle. Somehow she mattered to him more than he had thought. He stayed close to Jennifer and coldness inched up his spine as he held her. "No, I dated you because you were here, and I didn't have to go look for anyone. Not because I had some great feelings for you one way or the other. I am sorry if that hurts you."

"Never apologize to me." His fingers were like ice, but she didn't budge out of his arms. "You're upset right now."

That was it. His muscles were sore, but he held slow, steady breaths so she'd understand everything. "Do you know why my father liked you, Jennifer?"

Her eyes widened as he stepped out of her arms and poured himself a drink. He kept the one glass and refused to make her one. She was not staying.

She placed her fingers on his hand. "Mitch was a horrible human being, but he had good taste."

Good taste was her belief? Peter's eyes must have grown bigger. He controlled his tone as he angled his body away from her.

"You have no idea. Dad approved of dating you because you were pretty on the arm and easily cut off if you ever got in the way."

She threw her hands in the air as if she was hurt by what he had said. "I don't understand. You never cared what your father said about anyone."

His muscles twitched, and he tensed. This was it. He sipped his drink and remembered his dad's blue eyes. His dad had always said to get people to back into a corner with the truth of what they had done.

"True, but his advice never leaves my head. I will always hear his voice. Did you go and hunt down Belle to tell her about the bet in hopes that she'd leave me?"

Her face went white. It was hard to see through her makeup, but he had spent too much time with her.

"Peter...I..."

He inched closer like his presence might get her to tell the truth as he glared into her brown eyes. "Did you sabotage the one good thing I had going in my life?"

"You once said I was the best thing in your life." She took a deep breath. "And I didn't think you truly cared about her."

"You were wrong." He sipped his drink as life lessons from how his father destroyed people flew through his mind. "Then I should listen to my father's advice for once."

She licked her glossy lips. "What was that?"

Mitch Morgan would have ensured she ended up penniless and desperate and that she knew who had destroyed her. Peter channeled his father and wanted to take everything she valued from her. Then he swallowed. He wasn't his father.

"Go. Part of me wanted to ensure you had nothing left, but we're over, Jennifer. We've been over for a long time. I need you to accept that and move on. Rafe's a nice guy."

He stopped. He'd not be his father.

"He's a cop." Jennifer took his pause to mean something else. She grabbed his arms and held them to her breasts. "Peter, you're overreacting. We can move forward."

He'd not be heartless to Jennifer's mother, who had been kind to him with her never-ending pastilitos and Cuban coffee. She didn't have much, but she was kind. Peter recalled this, so he had a nicer picture in his head.

"Jennifer, you are better off with Rafe. We both know it. Go home."

She threw herself into his arms as if she was desperate. "Peter, Belle didn't love you."

Love was a hard word for him to even think about. The Chanel perfume clogged his brain, and he missed apples.

He kept his voice low as he said, "That doesn't matter. She was someone I discovered actually does have a heart. She was more real to me than any other woman I have ever met. Now I understand what my brother and sister both told me about picking someone who makes your heart stir. You deserve that too."

He walked out of her arms and finished his drink. Then he tried to walk out of the room.

Jennifer grabbed his arm and tugged him to come to her. "Peter. Wait."

He shook his arm to get her off as he turned around. This conversation was over. Jennifer needed to accept that.

"My staff will bring your clothes and anything you left in my house to the car or your home. I have to go."

Tears pooled in her eyes. "Peter, I love you. I'd do anything for you."

Waterworks didn't fix this. His legs were planted wide apart "We tolerated each other, but it wasn't love. Let's not mix up the past and what we want in the future."

Sobs emerged from her as she cried. "Peter, what happened to you?"

Without another thought he snapped, "I found someone I do love. I'll have Caro show you out."

Her eyes stopped with the tears, and she wiped her cheeks. "Don't bother. We both know once Belle disappears you'll be back. We always find our way to each other."

He loved Belle. He should have known that. He hadn't even thought it until now. Any chance with her started with severing Jennifer from their lives. Footsteps from around the corner echoed in his ears. He lowered his gaze to Jennifer as he heard the light footsteps of his staff in the background.

"Caro, please gather Ms. Gonzales's personal items and show her to the door."

“Absolutely Mr. Morgan.” Caro stepped out of the shadows and nodded her head. She went toward the living room to collect Jennifer's things.

Jennifer’s hands clutched in prayers as she said, "Peter, despite everything you said, I'd take you back if you asked."

She threw herself on the ground and tugged at his legs.

He stepped out of her grasp. "Have some dignity. We are not living in one of your telenovelas."

He heard the door close and Caro yelled something in Spanish that made his ears blushed. He chose to ignore the comment and walked outside to stare at the ocean and his yacht. The only place he'd been happy in a long time was with Belle on the yacht. Nothing stirred except a party boat in the ocean that took pictures.

He loved Belle. He had to find a way to tell her and beg her for another chance.

He took a fast shower and changed. The water wiped away how clammy his skin was from being near Jennifer. Peter changed his shirt to ensure no smell of perfume remained anywhere on him. He loved Belle and would never leave her, if she forgave him. Tonight he'd sleep in the hotel hallway until Belle came out. He'd have to apologize to her and beg her for another chance.

His heart thundered that she'd leave if he didn't find a way to tell her that she believed.

Finished, he strolled through his empty mansion with enough grounds to host twenty middle class families that might never see each other. The walls had art, but nothing was warm here. No matter what he did to the place, Mitch Morgan and the lessons of the House of Morgan lived in every corner. Peter vowed he'd find a way to make this place a home and not a mausoleum.

He checked his tie and continued to the entry way. Caro stopped him near the door. "Your staff decided to chip in and buy you a Christmas present, sir."

Caro's light red Christmas uniform was the standard house uniform almost everyone wore to blend into the background. He narrowed his gaze.

"Did everyone receive the bonuses I left?"

She curtsied and lowered her gaze. Then she held open a small box. "Of course. This is for you, sir."

He paid his staff well as long as they kept the house spotless and didn't interfere with his life. The house worked like a well-oiled machine, and the less people who left the easier his life was.

He swallowed, and didn't want to anger his maid. Then he gazed at the box and opened it. He held out a ribbon that was personalized with the year and a portrait of the three Morgan siblings from his childhood.

Caro smiled. "It's a Christmas ornament."

“You were always the artist, Caro. Thank you.”

She wouldn't have known them when they were that young. Caro was two years younger than Victoria, and though she went to school with his sister, she was still the daughter of the maid.

She then said, "We're hoping next year you get a tree and have a family to celebrate the holidays with."

He placed the present in her hands. "Thank you. Let's hope Belle forgives me. Please put this in my room. I have to go now."

"We're all cheering for you." She nodded her head. "The captain has said nothing but glowing things about your Belle, sir. We're all happy you love her."

"You heard everything?" His face heated. It seemed his fate that he could keep no secrets when it came to Belle. His expectations were up. "She doesn't know that so wish me luck."

He tugged his ear and tried to figure out how he'd apologize. He thought about stopping for flowers. He walked toward his limo and didn't wait for the driver.

He let himself in the door. "Take me to the Biltmore."

He gazed out the window, and they began to roll past his palm trees.

Belle might like flowers, but he needed a better plan of attack.

Chapter Twenty Five

Belle woke up to banging. Her head throbbed from too many drinks at the bar. The door rattled downstairs. She closed her eyes and tried to shut out the sound, but she wondered if Peter was at the door. She tugged up her covers over her head. They were from two different worlds, and hers didn't include him. Then she sighed, unknotted the sheets, and stood. If Peter was here, she had to see him.

She grabbed a robe and hoped her hair wasn't standing on their roots as she trudged to the door. Then she swung it open and gazed at the perfectly clean, muscular, Peter who smiled at her. His lips could cause a girl to fall into a frenzy, but she crossed her arms. Then he brushed his hand against her cheek.

"I had to see you, Belle."

His gentleness brought tears swelling in her ducts. She sniffled and refused to cry. She swallowed and lifted her chin.

"Nothing hurts me. You didn't have to come."

He whispered so only she could hear him. "Belle, I am sorry."

Embarrassment didn't matter. She stepped away from him and shook her head. "For what? For betting that I'd be your girlfriend? You should be at your mother's side and with your family."

“I should be right here, with you.” He massaged his chin and ignored the silence that surrounded them. "May I come in?"

She took a deep breath, inhaling his woodsy scent. She pressed her lips together. She'd not be swayed to go back to him. She turned away from him.

"We need to talk. Jennifer was at my place, and she helped me realize something important."

"What did she have to say now?" She had never had a chance with Colt and wouldn't with Peter either. Jennifer had been in his life for too long. "She clearly wanted you."

“Jennifer is not important to me.” He reached out to brush his hands on hers, but she pulled away as he said, "I didn't know anyone like you. Belle, you stole my breath away."

She stiffened. If she relaxed, he could steal her heart and make her forget. It was time to end this one-on-one. She refused to stare into his sexy brown eyes because she knew she'd lose her nerve. "Well, you had your chance to explain everything, but you chose silence. And thank you."

He stepped closer. "For what?"

She glanced up into his eyes, and her arms itched to wrap herself around him. Her lips tingled to kiss him, but she couldn't. She backed away.

"For getting me to believe that I could date and be happy, even if it's with someone else."

"Let me finish?"

"No."

He inched closer and adrenaline rushed through her. She wanted to give herself to him and forget everything else. She picked up an empty glass from the side table near the couch and brought it to the kitchen to get away from him.

He followed her and asked, "Can we just sit and talk? I won't take long."

Hold me and never let me go. She'd never say that. She couldn't. Her life was never going to be here with him. She'd get back to work and tell her heart to stop aching. Love wasn't part of her life. It was better for both of them. He deserved a full life too and that couldn't be her.

"Fine, but then I should ask you to leave. I need to pack."

They returned near the couch. Then he ran his hand down her arm. Every morsel of her skin that he touched grew goose bumps. "Belle, there is something I want to say."

The fluttering in her stomach had to be ignored. She clenched her jaw and tilted her body away from him. "Peter, if it's about us, then it's better we don't say anything else. There is no ‘us.’"

He didn't move. He didn't even blink. He swallowed, though, and then he said, "Belle, I can't do that. The thing is that I love you."

Her knees felt weak. It had to be the exhaustion. She shook her head no. That wasn't possible.

"This is what you discovered with Jennifer? It wasn't that you wanted her in your life."

"Absolutely not." He stood taller but otherwise didn't move. "Belle, I love you more than I love anyone else in the world."

No, no, no. The rest of the world seemed to fade away as she stared at him. She held her body in place despite how she ached to hold him. Then she stepped into the entryway.

"Then you'll want me to be free and happy, so you'll go now."

He placed his hands in his pockets and nodded his head. "If that's what you want."

"For now." She opened the door to the hallway. "It is."

He placed his hands on hers as she held the door.

She couldn't handle this, so she said, "Goodbye."

"I won't shake your hand."

He leaned in as he passed her and gave her cheek a light kiss. Her lips begged for his kiss on her lips, but she couldn't let herself. Tears threatened to fall again.

He then said, "There" as he kissed her cheek.

No words came out of her mouth.

He stepped into the hallway, but as she was closing it, he placed his hand on the door. "If you change your mind, I'll be waiting for you."

There was no way he'd wait for her. That was silly. She shook her head. "It can't work." Then she closed the door in his face.

They were done. She'd be miserable now, but it was the right thing to do.

Chapter Twenty Six

Snowflakes brushed against her nose as she walked to her office on her first day back to work. Her apartment was now clean as a whistle as sleeping wasn’t possible for her. Now it was time to go, but everything about her life felt empty.

In Miami, the sunshine had been warm and inviting. She closed her eyes and imagined Peter again.

Someone threw snow at her feet, and she opened her eyes to see the city cleaners hard at work trying to keep the roads clear. She hugged herself. This was hard.

She threw the door to work open, and no one greeted her. She proceeded to the elevator and hit the button to her office floor.

The secretary at the front desk nodded, but she spoke to someone on the phone.

Belle went to her office and saw the huge bouquet of flowers. She grabbed the card and read Peter's note, Thinking of you, always yours. Peter Morgan.

She picked up her phone to call him, but then froze. She stared at the clock. It was New Year's Eve. He was at his party. The flutters inside her grew, outweighing the emptiness as she thought she'd tell him she loved him too.

She had a chance with him.

This job offered a big office with no one in her life. This wasn't the best choice. She turned on her heels, flung open her door, and almost ran into the senior partner.

He said, "We're so happy to have you back."

Peter loved her. Leaving him for this cold place was the stupidest thing she had ever done. She needed to throw her arms around him and be willing to change.

"I'm not staying. I have a plane to catch."

Her boss nodded, but then asked, "Why? Are you needed for a deposition or something?"

She'd not lose out on love a second time because she had to work. Her shoulders felt surprisingly light as she said, "No. Consider this my verbal two weeks notice. I quit."

She had clearly surprised him. Her boss's voice had a higher pitch as he said, "You quit? Why? We can offer you a substantial pay increase."

She threw her arms around him and hugged him. This was the last time she'd walk in this office. "Thank you, but I can't accept. I have to take a chance on love and see where this leads."

She flung open the door. Her boss's voice behind her said, "I don't understand."

She grabbed her pocketbook and raised one of her shoulders. "Goodbye. Take care of yourself."

She flew out the door and raced home to get the picture of her mother and then to the airport. If Peter loved her, then it had to be enough. She'd move. She'd change. There was no other option.

The taxi had to call the house for permission to drive past the street. As she rounded the corner, her heart hammered. She had to see his face the moment she arrived. If he loved her, she wanted to see it for herself.

She shook her head no. "Let me out."

The driver waited for her to pay him and then took off. She straightened her knee-length dress. The evening sky in Miami was warm. She wore her white and red work dress as she hadn't wanted to stop to buy a gown. As she stepped onto the lawn, she squirmed in her shoes. Elegantly dressed people in ball gowns lingered on the lawn. Her slightly scuffed work shoes weren't up to snuff.

She kept her head level and marched to the front door. There was no time for fear, not now. She'd tell him that she loved him. She had to. This was it.

She went to knock on the door, but the maid threw it open and said, "Ms. Jordan, you're here."

"Caro, right?"

"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Morgan has been miserable without you."

This was a better welcome than she'd expected. She hadn't really spoken to his staff. She went inside the front door and asked, "Where is Peter?"

The maid swung her hips as she walked. "With his mother near the bay. Come with me. I'll bring you to him."

She saw how her work dress made her seem like the hired help as she followed the maid. No one stopped her until they crossed the threshold to the outside, and Jennifer left Rafe's arm.

The maid tapped her foot as Jennifer brushed against Belle's arm. Then Jennifer said, "I wanted to say I am sorry."

With a nod, Belle checked out of the conversation for a moment. She tried to find Peter in the throngs of people. She pressed her lips together and then glanced at Jennifer. "For what?"

Jennifer looked at Rafe and nodded her head. "For trying to sabotage you. I've promised I'll try to be nicer to people from now on."

Belle pulled her arm out of reach and took a step toward the bay. "Good luck with that."

The maid continued to lead her closer to the yacht. “For the record, I like you better.”

“Thanks.” Belle's heart beat in her chest fast and goose bumps grew on her arm. Peter was closer. She licked her lips and searched the crowd for him.

Then her gaze saw Peter, and euphoria was the best word to describe how she felt. The moment he turned and saw her, he left who he was with and met her halfway. The maid excused herself as Peter leaned forward.

Her lips tingled for that kiss again, but she placed her hands on his shoulders and said, "I love you. I quit my job because I want to see where we stand."

He wrapped his arms around her waist. She was home as he said, "Then you'll marry me and stay by my side always. I love you and need you in my life."

Her lips parted. The world seemed to snap into place as she asked, "What? You want to marry me?"

He nodded his head like he would agree with anything. "Yes, if you'll have me."

She was hyperaware only of their hearts and how she felt with him. This was it. She gave him her heart.

"Of course I will. I love you."

Chapter Twenty Seven

His mother tapped him on the shoulder. He reluctantly let go of Belle's waist and then turned to his mother who said, "Peter, sorry to interrupt."

His heart was light. She had said yes. He then nodded and said, "Mom, I'd like for you to meet Belle Jordan. We're getting married."

"Nice to see you again, and we're all happy you came back." She immediately hugged both of them. Peter couldn't let Belle go yet. "I'm so happy for you."

Belle patted his mother's back and then added, "Thank you. I can't wait to tell my dad when he gets back in town."

His mother pulled away, and her face was solemn and serious as she said, "Peter, I need to tell you something."

If she didn't want him to marry Belle, then he had no idea what to say. His shoulders tensed. "What mom?"

She glanced around the party and stared at some blue-eyed very pregnant woman he didn't know, but reminded him of his sister, Victoria. He widened his stance as she said, "We have to get your brother and sister and go somewhere. This is something I should have said right away."

Belle took his hand and squeezed it as she picked up her phone to check her home screen.

Peter nodded and said, "Of course."

Belle peaked at her messages and then glanced at him. "I texted John and Colt. They are getting their wives and will meet us in your study, Peter."

He offered his mother his other arm to guide them through the party as he said, "My future wife is efficient. This way, Mom."

She rocked on her feet. He held her to steady as she asked, "You use your father's study?"

Peter didn't want his mother to worry. He nodded his head. "It's mine now. I had it redecorated, and I'm hoping Belle will help me make it more personable."

Belle shrugged her shoulders. "Okay."

His mother passed the young mother-to-be and squeezed her hand as they passed. Once they were away from the woman, Peter asked, "Who was that?"

His mother turned white. "Who was who, dear?"

Peter pointed with his head as he had both women on each arm. "The woman in the hall. You just squeezed her hand."

She lowered her head and didn't look at him. "This is part of what I need to explain."

His mother didn't say anything. Once they entered the study, Belle took a seat and waited with his mother. Peter stood as his brother, his wife Alice, and Victoria and her new husband, Colt, all came into the room. The two couples both found seats. The same seats they once chose as teenagers, only this time his siblings all had spouses.

He sat with Belle and then leaned closer to his mother. "Mom, we're all here. What's so important?"

She flicked her gray hair behind her head and stared at the ceiling. "I was pregnant when your father kidnapped me."

The young woman must be his sister. "What?"

"It was one of the reasons I wanted a divorce."

"So that woman in the hall?" Peter's gaze flew to the floor.

Vicki sat closer at the edge of her seat and asked, "What else did our father do?"

His mom then looked into his eyes, like she was afraid of his reaction, as she said, "I was grieving for the loss of my children, but then I had three more, all at once. I don't think your father knew how to explain everything away."

Peter raised his eyebrow and stared at his mother. Clearly the woman outside was one of three. "What? Just say everything, and let us sort out the details."

Her face squished together as if he had physically touched her. Peter's skin crawled as if he had hurt his mom as she said, "Your father and I had the triplets. I raised them until they were six, and then your father sent them away too."

Belle squeezed Peter's hand. "What? There are more Morgans?"

Peter shook his head. "Dad's lawyer said various people would receive inheritances. I thought he meant illegitimate, though the numbers add up to be perhaps the triplets and a few more."

Vicki then wiped her face. "Peter, this isn't about the money."

"This isn't about that, sis." He’d sat through enough sales pitches to know there was something else. He leaned closer in his seat to not scare her again. "I am trying to calculate how many siblings we might have out in the world."

She closed her eyes as if she didn't want to see him. Peter's heart ached like it was a rejection, though he held Belle's warm hand as his mother said, "Out of the triplets, Luke is the oldest. He's a doctor. He took care of me in the hospital, but couldn’t come tonight. With luck he’ll get a job in Miami and I’ll see him more. Then there are Elizabeth and Matthew."

"The woman outside the door?"

"Yes, that's Elizabeth. She's having a hard time adjusting to being a Morgan."

"She doesn't have to adjust to anything."

"She and her brothers thought I was sick, and that's why they were sent away, but they don't want anything from any of you. I wanted to let you know that you have more family."

Victoria massaged her mother's back. "Elizabeth looks like John and me."

She opened her eyes and pools of tears threatened to emerge. Peter didn't have the heart to hurt her ever again. His other half deserved better as she said, "Elizabeth?"

John then asked, "And Matthew? Who is he and what does he do?"

She turned to stare at John. Peter saw how his brother's face was white as their mom said, "Matthew hasn’t opened up to my return yet. From what I understand, he performs as Matt Kilroy."

“The singer is my brother!” Vicki scooted closer to Colt. "Is that why you had to tell us now? You didn't want to start the new year with two families?"

“He doesn’t want his stage name to be revealed as a Morgan.” Their mom shook her head and wiped her face. At least tears hadn't emerged, so Peter could breathe as his mother said, "We're all one family. All six of you are my children with your father, and for better or worse, you all need each other too."

Peter then stood and stormed to the door. The room went absolutely silent.

He summoned his maid. "Caro, bring Elizabeth Morgan to the study. She was the pregnant lady with my mother earlier."

No one said anything as he retook his seat. The room remained silent. He placed his hand on Belle's shoulder and asked, "What?"

His sister smiled and asked, "Is that all? Are you okay with this?"

"Belle's going to marry me. I'm happy for Mom that she has all of us and a home she returned too."

His mother then teared up. Peter's heart stilled. He hadn't wanted to hurt her. He held his breath as Belle squeezed his hand.

A moment later, Caro knocked on the door and then opened it. His mother stood and opened her arms to hug the young woman with blonde hair. The woman hugged her and didn't stare at any of them. The rest of them stood.

When their mom was done, she turned around and fluffed the woman's hair. "Peter, John, Victoria, this is your sister, Elizabeth Morgan."

Peter hugged Belle. He had his family. Mom had hers. He kissed Belle's check and then said, "Elizabeth, you're invited to our wedding."

“Okay.” The woman's eyes were wide as she held their mom. "Thank you."

Chapter Twenty Eight

Belle twirled in her Vera Wang silhouette silk bridal gown and checked her veil. This was perfect. The violin solo played as all the guests were seated. Her father beamed in the mirror behind her until she turned around.

She stared at her father's blue eyes and tried not to cry as he said, "Belle, you look beautiful."

Truly she had never thought she'd get married. She wrapped her arms around him as the music cued. Peter's sister's walked down the aisle, but Belle hardly looked. She swayed on her feet.

"Thank you, Dad."

"This whirlwind romance of yours is surprising. I can't believe you want to plan two weddings."

"This is just for family. The bigger one, next Christmas, is for Peter and his business."

He patted her arm as she tried to steady herself. "I don't want to lose my little girl."

She turned to stare at him. Any moment now, she would marry Peter, the man of her dreams. Her heart raced.

"Don't think of it that way. Think about how you are getting a son."

Her father whispered, "Your husband-to-be commands the entire room just by standing, sweetheart. I'll be fine as long as you are happy."

Em, the bridesmaid, now stood at the altar. Any moment it would be her turn. No one was here to steal her day from her, and her shoulders weren't so tense. She nodded her head.

"I am. Does Sophie have Mom's picture?"

Her father squeezed her hand as "Here Comes the Bride" began to play. She took a step forward as her father said, "Yes. They are both happy for you."

He hadn't moved. She tugged his arm. "That's our cue, Dad."

The ushers threw open the door as her father said, "Are you sure? Now's the last chance."

Her gaze landed on Peter's eyes immediately. Nothing would stop her now. She took a giant step and tugged her father.

"Walk me down the aisle."

He stayed in step, but whispered, "Happy Valentine's, sweetheart."

Peter seemed to want major events on holidays. A light bubble was inside her stomach and butterflies emerged as she drew closer to him. As his hands shook her father's, and he placed them on her back, goose bumps grew everywhere. This was all that mattered. With him, she had her chance to live happily ever after.

The End

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For some, joining the FBI is a long-term goal. For billionaire John Morgan, joining the Bureau is a stepping stone to proving his father is culpable for his sister’s death. After his estranged father dies, John is forced to return home and face the ghosts of his past. That proves to be more difficult than he could have ever imagined.

Alice Collins lives a peaceful life. As a farmer’s daughter, she knows what it’s like to work hard for what you want. After losing her best friend under inexplicable circumstances, her world viewpoint shifted until her small town sensibilities convinced her to attend Mr. Morgan’s funeral.

Soon, the past and the present collide and Alice is caught in the crosshairs. John comes to her aid, complicating matters for both of them.

Can a handsome billionaire on a vendetta truly fall for a small town girl or does he have something else in mind? Can a small town girl, if she gives her heart to him, ever fit of the House of Morgan?

Drama seems to follow Victoria Morgan everywhere, but she’s determined to mend her past and reclaim what was so cruelly taken from her.

Colt Collins moved on after the affair that left him heartbroken. After finding the child he bore with his ex, and serving in the US Marines, he builds a new life with his daughter on the family farm. Now, set to marry a woman he knows he can trust, he comes face-to-face with the love that abandoned him and their daughter many years ago.

When Victoria returns to town to attend her father’s funeral, the truth about what happened to her daughter is revealed, leaving Victoria willing to do anything to be in her child’s life again, even if that brings her face-to-face with the man she hurt so long ago.

Is there forgiveness after all the lies, pain, and betrayal? Can the love Colt and Victoria once shared be rekindled? Will this family torn apart by a cruel act be reunited?

Heir to a billion-dollar fortune, Peter Morgan yields a power few can deny, but behind the strong, confidant façade lies a broken man. For years he’s grappled with feelings of abandonment and pain. He’s always believed his dead father was to blame for his mother’s abandonment and now struggles to trust women. But, despite his mistrust, his ego is still large enough to bet against them. When he hatches a bet with his brother, the last thing he expects is for that bet to change his life and his heart.

Jilted at the altar, Belle Jordan wants to move past the hurt and forgive the man she lost. She believes attending his wedding will be the first step in healing, but unbeknownst to her, a handsome heir to a billion-dollar fortune has targeted her in order to win a secret bet.

Will what was supposed to be a friendly wager turn into something more? Can broken hearts be mended or will this bet lead to more long-lasting trust issues for Peter and Belle?

Dr. Luke Morgan lives the privileged life of a trust fund baby, but with little memory of his mother and a strained relationship with his father, it’s difficult for him to reconcile between who he is and who he wants to be. That self-doubt is heightened when he learns that the man who gave him all money could buy as a banker was actually his father. As more painful secrets come to light, Luke is disgusted by his fabricated past and is led to believe his “family” name is the reason his sister’s child was kidnapped.

After months spent rejecting Luke’s advances, one kiss changed everything for Caro Soliz. Now, her world is about to change again. Just like her mother before her, she’s accepted a position as the Morgan family maid. This time, her reunion with Luke leads to a whirlwind romance that throws both for a loop.

Can true love flourish in the face of so many unanswered questions? Will Luke’s family secrets lead them on a path to doom? Will Caro risk inviting Luke home to meet her family?

When Penny Knightheart moves back to Miami, she knows she’ll be thrust back into the drama that used to be her life. With a gold-digging mother clamoring for anything she can get her hands on and friends with a flair for drama, it’s all Penny can do to not get sucked back into it, but they’re the least of her problems when she runs into Jay Marshall, her former crush who kept her firmly in the friends’ zone for years.

No one is happier to see Penny than Jay. No sooner does she arrive when he sets a plan in motion. His investors need reassurance that he can keep a stable relationship with a relatively stable woman. No one fits the bill better than the ever-loyal Penny. There’s just one hitch – after reuniting with her, he finds himself wanting her more and more. That definitely wasn’t part of his plan.

Soon, a pretend date sets off a whirlwind of trouble. From mothers who want full control of their children’s lives to the loss of Penny’s new job and obstacles neither Penny nor Jay could have seen coming. On top of that, she just might be falling for Jay all over again.

Can these longtime friends build a lasting relationship from scratch? Will their full-proof plan lead to disaster?

Kindle Scout Winner

Erica Mira, a Florida native, decides to drive up to Maine in the middle of winter to meet an investor, and ends up crashing into a tree in the middle of the blizzard. After climbing up the mountain to the chateau seeking shelter, she meets Gabriel.

Gabriel's not leaving this chateau without clearing his name of his dead wife's murder or the crimes she set him up for. He's not had company in years, let alone the company of a woman.

Erica storms in and her passion for life changes everything.

Kimberly Mira spends every day of her adult life fighting to forgive herself for mistakes in her past. When an invitation to her sister’s wedding arrives, Kimberly believes returning home may be the key to healing, but getting there won’t be easy. With limited funds, she sneaks aboard a plane with the intention of returning home to beg for forgiveness. When disaster strikes, she soon finds herself in a strange place with a handsome man, whom refuses to speak to her.

A medieval castle on an island off the coast of Maine sounds like the ideal location, but for Raphael it’s more than a place to call home; it’s the perfect location to execute his plans and gather intelligence for the NSA. When a beautiful woman washes up on the shore, his plans go awry.

Assassins have marked Kimberly as their target and are bent on leading an assault on the castle to find and murder her. Doing so means they’ll have to go through Raphael first, but he may not be the only in the mysterious castle they’ll have to contend with.

Can Raphael keep Kimberly safe from harm? Will the mysterious happenings in the castle push her away or help to bring them together? Can the assassins be stopped before it’s too late?

Gerard Collins has always had political aspirations, but now that his name is on the ballot for the U.S. Senate, his dream of a political future is thrown into jeopardy unless he can successfully help his FBI agent brother bring down the Boroni family, Boston’s largest crime family.

Actress Nicole Wyland has raked in millions after a string of blockbuster movies, but for all her success, she’s been unlucky in love. A return home to Cape Cod, long after she escaped, hoping to never return, may be just what she needs to find her true self again. But, when she tries to make amends over a long-held contentious relationship with the Senate candidate, her plan to find herself takes an interesting turn.

Sparks fly immediately when Nicole and Gerard reunite, but with both vying for something larger than themselves and so many obstacles in front of them, can the sought-after movie star and the man with everything to lose find love or will politics, corruption, and the promise of success tear them apart?

Party girl. Art thief. All around bad girl. It’s what all the newspapers call socialite and heiress Kate Sparrow. It’s all untrue. Kate’s been set up and she’s following the orders of the FBI to get the real criminal, her father. She’ll have to put up with her sister, the wedding fiasco, and her own fears that someone is after her, trying to stop her to get what she needs to prove her innocence.

Doctor Daniel Collins joins his brothers on a cruise to the wedding of his young cousin. His cousin begs him to keep a close watch on the bride’s sister, Kate. He's to keep her from ruining the wedding.

Kate doesn’t trust Daniel's help in her life, but the man’s interference is blocking a few problems. She lets him. After all, he spent a few years in the military and having a friend like Daniel is nice. But when her fears become true, someone is after her, pretending to be in a relationship with the sexy doctor has its benefits. What she hadn’t planned was opening her heart to trusting him. But if she doesn’t open up, she’s going to lose out on far more than her life, she’d lose out on love.

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Gigi Dumont never forgot how she walked away from the only man she ever loved.

She’s a teacher who has led her students to the finals of an international French competition to be help in Paris. The night before the trip, the principal tries to cancel the trip before he, in turn, loses his job to her high school boyfriend, Sean Collins.

Sean Collins has survived cancer, a divorce, and Gigi having aborted their child back in high school. He assumed he’d hate her, if they ever crossed paths again. But he discovers she’s exactly what he wants.

When Gigi and Sean are stuck together for a week in Paris, Gigi feels she has lost all her control. How can she survive her attraction to Sean? The man’s sexier now than he was back in the day, and once upon a time, he’d had her heart. She finds herself falling for him, even knowing forever is impossible.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Victoria Pinder grew up in Irish Catholic Boston then moved to Miami. Eventually, found that writing is her passion.

She always wrote stories to entertain herself. Her parents are practical minded people demanding a job, but when she sat down to see what she enjoyed doing, writing became obvious.

In 2016 Electing Love, the third Collins Brother book will be published as well as Stormy Peril. Both continue in the romantic suspense category. More books might be scheduled, so stay tuned on her newsletter and sign up at http://eepurl.com/bHX79L.

She also write science fiction/fantasy romance, and in 2016 Mything the Throne and Queen Uncovered will be published. Eventually she wants to put this category under a pen name, so watch her newsletter for updates.

Her website is www.victoriapinder.com and you can sign up for her newsletter there to stay tuned to all of Victoria’s new releases.