Emily stilled and didn’t dance despite hearing one of her favorite songs live. She held together tight like a spring that holds the battery in, and then her sister’s text came through. You can have your fun with Axel this weekend without me saying another word.
What Emily did wasn’t her sister’s business. Emily had no right to talk about her sister’s personal life and that should be two-sided. Good, because I’m an adult and all.
For a moment, no response. Good. Emily started singing under her breath to the song and let the melody soothe her feelings. Her phone beeped. She clutched it and read the message. But you need to promise me you’ll help me talk to Matthew alone.
Me? She asked fast. She wasn’t in Hollywood. She couldn’t help with a career.
Her sister typed her response. Axel and his band went into another song and then her phone dinged. She read the message. You were talking to his family and he talked to you at the party though that ended too fast. Next time, wait for me and then back away.
A memory rushed through her of her sister trying to get her to hold the door and stop anyone from leaving an audition. Linsey hadn’t cared that Emily had a fever of a 102 that day and wanted to be in bed. This time Emily had a different hum in her veins and it was all about Axel. It was probably better not to talk about that so she typed, Talk to you later sis.
And then she put her phone away. She focused on watching Axel. Time must have flown because he was near the end of the performance. The guys walked off after the song but then all huddled, listening to the roar of the crowd.
They returned to the stage and sang again.
Axel’s broad shoulders and hard muscles were enhanced by the spotlight. If he went back on TV or followed his brother into movies, she’d understand. He was a born entertainer.
This time they finished their song and waved goodbye to the crowd. His band all did a group high-five and Axel walked toward her like a conquering battle hero of old. She threw her arms wide and hugged him, despite his sweat from the performance. “Axel.”
He kissed her fast and held her tight.
If he never let go, she’d be perfectly happy.
He grabbed a bottle of water from a waiting stagehand and gulped it down. Singing must have left him thirsty. Once he finished, he asked, “How was it?”
He waved for her to walk with him and she took his hand. “You’re amazing.”
“Tonight was different. Knowing you were here, waiting for me, just made my performance feel more... alive.”
“Really?” she asked as her breath seemed to leave her body entirely.
“Let’s get out of here.” He led her to the dressing room.
Tonight, she was his. Whatever he wanted to do. He was more of everything than she’d ever dreamed he’d be.
Axel Morgan showered in the bathroom of his dressing room and quickly buttoned his blue shirt, tucking it into his jeansHe rushed through his routine to get back to Emily, who waited for him—he needed to see her.
Emily somehow made him feel less lonely.
Normally at family functions he had one foot out the door, but near Emily, the food tasted better, the conversations flowed easier, and he’d fit into conversations.
Now he wanted to get her alone and unwind.
He texted his housekeeper to have the chef put out a romantic dinner, and then slipped his phone in his back pocket.
Emily, sitting on the couch, put her own phone away as he walked out. She stood and his heart melted. Tonight she seemed to fit into his backstage world like she belonged here in her black shirt and her dark hair loose and free. She took his hand and pointed to the clear wall. “There are no more bins in the room.”
Her smile hypnotized him. Emily grew prettier every time he saw her. As he opened the door for her, he said, “Everything gets cleaned up, fast.”
“Why?” She headed into the hall.
He stayed next to her as he explained his life. “The night after the wedding, we do a show in Orlando. Then we’re flying to Atlanta as the next sixty-day tour begins.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Leaving that fast.”
And this was why they wouldn’t work out. They were destined for temporary and normally he never even thought about tomorrow with any woman. Handlers waved at them but he focused on Emily as he said, “I won’t sign up for more than two nintey-day tours or three sixty-day tours in a year anymore.”
“Why?”
That question haunted him today. Emily had him thinking. He placed his hand on her lower back as he explained, “It is too exhausting, and we won’t cut another album.”
“What? Why? You’re breaking my heart if you don’t record another.”
“Maybe I was being dramatic, but after the tour, we all want a break. Then we’ll figure out another album.”
“Or do double-duty and test some songs on the road that you plan to record?”
“That’s standard, but I don’t know. Now that I have my family back, I don’t know if I want to always leave town.”
“A short break is totally normal for everyone,” she said reassuringly. He opened the back door that led toward the limo as she asked, “How did Catherine come back in your life? I remember seeing an interview with you when you were fourteen to my nine and you were holding back tears talking about her death.”
Fans screamed and people snapped their photos, but he stayed at her side and held her close. The limo driver and security helped them escape inside the vehicle fast.
Once the door closed he let out a deep breath. “My father took her from my mother, made us think she’d died, but she grew up here, in Miami actually.”
The shouts and screams lessened once the driver took off. He relaxed more in his seat as Emily said, “That’s awful.”
She took his hand and for the first time in a long while he stopped thinking about what would happen next. He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles as he said, “That’s too nice of a word to describe what he did.”
She smelled nice and fresh, like roses. “So you wish your father was alive?”
Axel pressed his lips together. Mitch Morgan Jr, aka his father, should be rotting or burning in hell if such a place existed. Movies and TV couldn’t possibly capture how evil he’d been without making him cartoonish. And there was nothing good about him, ever.
But unlike before when this conversation came up, he finally answered with the truth. “Only so I could kill him myself.” Her face went white and he squeezed her hand. “But let’s not waste tonight talking about him. Tell me about your family.”
The limo left the arena and sped along the road. No more people shouted at them.
Emily was all his now.
She placed her hand on her heart and asked, “Mine?”
This weekend was all they probably had and he needed to find out everything he wanted to know. Axel pressed his leg to hers. “Yeah. You and Linsey. You mentioned a mom?”
She didn’t move away. “I’m the oldest. Our father took off when I was three so it was just the three off us growing up.”
If his father had left his mother, they’d have all been better off. He kept that to himself. “Where did your father go?”
“Divorced,” she said, like that answered his question of where. She then let out a small sigh. “He remarried and I think I have half-siblings out there I don’t really know.”
Her words buzzed in his ear. All his life, his brothers and sisters were reminded by his highness, aka their father, that they were the brats. Axel had used that as fuel in his rage for years, but now… his father hadn’t done anything to him, but he shook his head and quietly said, “As an illegitimate half-sibling, it’s not your brother and sister’s fault for whatever your dad did.”
“You’re right.” She nodded and then massaged his arm like she wanted him to relax as she said, “I honestly just don’t think about them as I didn’t know them much. My sister is usually the topic of all family gatherings.”
Steering the conversation
away from his father was a good idea. She offered the perfect bridge that he decided to cross as he said, “My family talks about Peter's wedding and how we all liked Belle.”
Her face paled. The limo went over a slight bump and she blinked. Then she took a breath, color returned to her cheeks and she asked, “Why? What’s wrong with Jennifer and right with Belle?”
If he ever married, he’d want someone who made him happy and not just looked good on his arm. His career offered plenty of those. He shrugged as the driver turned onto the highway that led to his house. “Jennifer stole Peter’s sperm. She’s been obsessed with Peter and half my family were unintended victims of her quest. And now he’s marrying her.”
“Jennifer has done bad. I get that.” She squeezed her lips closed like she wanted to stop her question. “And Belle?”
Belle wasn’t the girl for him or anything, but for Peter? The couple had been happy. Even he could see that so he said, “Belle helped him run his business. She made Peter happy. And he, probably more than the rest of us, dealt with our father daily. He wanted to stay with Belle even if she couldn’t have children, but then she left.”
“Hmm.” He wondered if she’d comment on the fact that they were heading toward Starr Island. But instead Emily said, “That’s not what the newspapers say.”
The internet certainly didn’t tell the truth. He kept his statement polite. “The press is often wrong about many things, and Jennifer has an amazing publicist.”
Emily nodded. The limo passed the gates that guarded the exclusive island where he lived and she said, “So does my sister.”
She had to notice where they were. The limo stopped in front of his three-story mansion that was once made for a basketball player before Axel transformed the indoor courts into his personal recording studio. “I can take you to a restaurant if you don’t want to come inside.”
Her eyes widened and she scooted out as she said, “No. I mean, let’s go in. I’m sure your mansion is gorgeous.”
Without another word he walked out and led her toward his front doors. He swung them open then stood back to let her inside.
He turned on the lights as she glanced up at the crystal chandelier that once belonged in a 1920s opera house.
Her gaze circled the room, pausing at the red couches, white marble floors and crimson and white rug his decorator found to bring style to the room. He flipped a switch and a fireplace roared to life on the side.
Emily jumped and then laughed at herself. He waved at her and intended to lead her to the back that overlooked the Intracoastal and the bridge they’d crossed, where the waters funneled out into the Atlantic. His veranda was brightly lit and a table for two should be set for them. “Come, I’ll give you the tour.”
As they walked passed the movie studio, with seating for sixteen to keep their feet up as they watched, she whistled. “This place is a palace.”
Axel led her outside to the candlelight dinner waiting. “After meeting the legit Morgans, our families surprisingly bonded. Our wing of the family all settled in Miami because we enjoy each other’s company and a small part of that is also to stick it to our father. We weren’t good enough to grow up together.”
She walked over to the black metal table with a white table cloth, a vase of roses, and white and gold plates. She picked up one of the crystal flutes and pointed toward the champagne. “What’s this?”
Emily’s brown eyes had an extra sparkle in them as he simply said, “Dinner.”
She sucked in her breath. “For just the two of us?”
For a second, he didn’t move--had he made a mistake? But then he realized there was a line of foods under silver cloches near the door she was looking at. He hadn’t specified their choices so he shrugged as the chef had offered a selection. “I wasn’t sure what you liked.”
The smell of the palm trees and hibiscus in the air was nothing compared to Emily’s proximity. Or how she glowed at him as she said, “I like almost anything.”
“What’s the almost?”
“Indian curry--I like it but there are some that are just too spicy for my palate.”
“Interesting. It’s fascinating to watch you eat.” He held her chair for her to sit.
She sucked in her lips and shook her head as she said, “You said that already. Don’t embarrass me, now.”
He kissed her cheek and his lips burned instantly for more of her. One small taste wasn’t enough. “Never. Emily, do you ever want something different in your life?”
She didn’t blink. Her angelic aura made him feel alive and like the only man in the world as she said, “Absolutely, especially if it involves spending time with you.”
He kneeled next to her instead of taking his seat as he brushed against her knee. “Tonight, I want all of you.”
“I’m yours, Axel.” She closed her eyes and kissed him.
Dinner could wait. Emily was his and he needed her, right now. Tomorrow or maybe never he’d deal with the consequences. Nothing on earth was going to interfere with them now.
Emily’s muscles were the yummy kind of sore after a night that went down as epic in the diary of her life.
The shower in Axel's mansion could hose down an army brigade, but right now it was all just for her.
Her muscles appreciated the pulsating water, then the softer drops, and she stayed in a long time—the hot water never ran out. Finally she turned off the faucet and wrapped herself in a warm towel.
No one had ever warmed her towel for her before.
As she slipped back into the bedroom, she found another bag of House of Morgan designs, but no Axel.
She peeked inside, thinking it must be for Axel, but then saw a light-blue top, a bra her size, and white linen pants.
Without questioning anything, she dressed in the new clothes and admired her image in the mirror.
Whenever whatever this was she had with Axel ended, she’d have a few nice clothes to wear. Her phone beeped and she checked her messages.
Diesel sent instructions to get him inside the wedding.
Drat. She’d forgotten she was being paid to spy today.
Emily hoped that because Axel liked Belle anyhow, he might forgive her snooping at Peter’s wedding.
Once the weekend was over, she’d work a few late nights to catch up with the paperwork of her job and try to forget everything that had happened. It would be her way of surviving after cold reality hit.
She imagined just quitting her secretarial position to follow Axel around like one of his bandmates.
No responsibilities. No problems. Just the open road with a man who could make her body hum like he had last night.
Emily wanted to do this again and again. She sighed as the bedroom door opened and Axel, his blond mane perfectly combed, entered. “You must be hungry.”
Pretty girls don’t eat near a man. Her mother’s advice haunted her. Emily ignored how her hair stood up a little on her arms like her mother whispered in her ear and asked, “How did you know?”
He gestured for her to follow him. “I didn’t let you eat last night.”
Her stomach growled. Hopefully he hadn’t heard. She shrugged and said, “I ate at the rehearsal.”
Hunger gnawed at her tummy.
His lips thinned like he didn’t approve. “Don’t turn into one of those wilting-away Hollywood types now.”
With a smile, she laughed and patted her stomach. “Okay, I’m starved.”
He opened the white double doors and led her outside as he said, “Good.”
“What’s this?”
The smell of the ocean wafted into her nostrils the moment they stepped onto the screened balcony, but air conditioning lessened the Miami heat. Cheerful peonies in a short vase were centered on the round table set for two, with a tray of food behind Axel. “Breakfast on the balcony.”
She swept her hand over a hot loaf of fresh bread. How in the world did he have all this delivered without waking her? “I meant this bread.”
H
e took a carafe off the tray behind him and put it on the table as he said, “My chef is good at French bread and we buy the right flour, direct from France.”
The light-blue cloth almost matched the trim of his halls. “Wow. The closest to fresh bread I usually get is when the grocery store puts out the warm loaves. My lucky day.”
He held the seat for her. “What’s an American grocery store experience like?”
Seriously? He clearly lived in a bubble. She put her napkin on her lap and waited for him to join her as she said, “Pushing a cart, browsing the shelves, and waiting in line. Have you never done that?”
He leaned closer and pressed his hand to her knee. Last night he’d proven that he knew how to make her body soar. “No. I’ve been on TV since I was nine years old. And before that I lived in Paris where servants took care of details.”
Another reason they probably wouldn’t work out after this wedding. She’d never experienced having every detail of her life taken care of, but she wouldn’t think about that for now. He pulled his hand back and fixed his napkin on his lap as she asked, “Do you want to go to one with me?”
He didn’t move at all as he said, “I’m always recognized.”
“We’ll disguise you.” She tried to imagine Axel with his famous hair covered in a Red Sox baseball hat and possibly an oversized, ill-fitting t-shirt.
Axel’s phone beeped. His gaze narrowed as he mumbled, “Wedding Day.” He then glanced at the message and his face went white. He stood as he said, “Emily…”
“What?” She placed her napkin on her untouched breakfast plate and followed him.
He guided her into the house and said, “Let’s go check out the movie theater.”
Downstairs? She continued to walk beside him, but she tilted her head, wishing she’d grabbed a piece of that bread. “You want to watch a movie?”
He pressed his hand on her lower back. “I want you to see the news.”
Her heart thundered. Oh no. She’d never done anything to be on TV, ever. Well, except kiss Axel in public, or walk with him. But that wouldn’t cause drama. She wasn’t a long-term anything to him, but as they rushed down the grand staircase she asked, “What’s going on?”
Secret Bridesmaid Page 7
