Secret Crush (The House of Morgan Book 1)

by Victoria Pinder

  She sighed. Perhaps she needed to think of happier moments.

  Above her head the pillars to the high, painted ceilings overwhelmed her sense of awe. This place smelled like money, which was strange for her, since Alice needed to budget.

  With a nose twitch, she shook her head and realized that thought came from Jennifer's little jab about her black dress. Normal people budgeted and, once in a while, splurged. The super starlet didn't get to judge her life.

  She reached the desk and waited for the man behind it to finish his phone conversation and then speak to her.

  Finally his gaze met hers as he ended his call, and she told him, "I'm checking in. Alice Collins."

  "Ms. Collins." Another man behind the counter stepped forward as the original clerk stepped back. He wore a red uniform, but his was more formal. The clerk stepped aside, and the hotel manager with a pin on his name badge waved his hand to his right. "We're happy you chose our hotel for your overnight stay. There is a gentleman here to see you."

  Impossible. Her dad was in Homestead packing up his house, and her brother was still in the Marines. As that was the extent of the men in her life, she shook her head, "A gentleman? Who is he?"

  "I'm not at liberty to answer, ma'am."

  "Did you ask what he wanted?"

  He averted his gaze. "It wasn't my place."

  She swallowed. With a thump, she released the handle of her black rolling suitcase and leaned on the counter. "And you didn't get his name to share with me?"

  "I cannot say."

  It had been a tiring day. She kept her tone even and said, "So he could be some crazy person."

  "I assure you, he's not."

  Clearly she wouldn't get anywhere with this manager. She crossed her arms and stepped backwards. "I don't want to go meet strange men. I'd like to just check in, please."

  The man's expression fell, but Alice stood tall. The manager typed into the computer and said, "Your room won't be available for another hour. I'm very sorry, miss."

  How convenient. She wasn't fooled. "How much did this man pay you to get me to talk to him?"

  The clerk averted his face and stared at his computer as his manager said, "I don't know what you mean."

  Lies didn't invoke trust. She pressed her lips together. "Of course you don't. It was only perfect timing."

  He stayed silent.

  There was no other choice. She was in no danger except being annoyed with whoever delayed her. "If I go, will my room be ready sooner?"

  "I will see to it that your room is ready upon your return."

  She narrowed her stare until he flushed. "Sure, okay. If anything happens to me, I'll sue and own this place."

  The man smiled like she'd just saved his life or the life of someone he loved. "Of course, miss, you will most assuredly be fine."

  She snapped her fingers at her sides. Of course. She let out a breath she hadn't known she held and followed him outside to the Cascade Patio near the pool. Metallic chairs were filled with people lounging by the blue waters, but she didn't recognize anyone. If it was a stranger, she'd run the other direction.

  Without warning, her escort stopped near the bar. She scanned the area for someone she knew. Then her heart contracted as she stared into the blue eyes of John Morgan.

  Her spirit lifted. He had asked for her. She had no idea why. Their last conversation made it seem like he'd never speak to her again. He'd been rude an hour ago, but it was hard to remember what happened as he gave her that gorgeous smile.

  John stood up as she walked toward him, and her heart skipped a beat. His broad shoulders and open smile invited her to throw herself into his arms. He wore the pants he'd had on for the wake, and a white shirt that was now unbuttoned a few notches. The shirt melded to every hard muscle of his body. Along his travels to the hotel, he'd lost the jacket and tie, amplifying pure masculinity.

  She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but no words formed. Refusing to act like an idiot, she inhaled and forced herself to sound normal. "I didn't expect to see you."

  He kept his hands to his sides and offered a small smile without the dimples. "I am sorry, Alice. I was rude and I wanted to tell you that in person."

  With a lift of her chin, she focused on her questions and not on how her mind went blank near him. "How did you know I was here?"

  "After you left, I talked with Mr. Soliz and he told me."

  He was so tight in the shoulders. Her gaze honed in on the slight bump from a break of his nose during a football game. "Mr. Soliz? You mean Rafe? We went to school with him."

  "I thought he looked familiar, but didn't remember from where."

  Figured. She stood on her tiptoes to get him to look her in the eye. It was time he stopped forgetting about the past. "What do you remember?"

  "That I was angry at my brother, and myself, for being at the wake. I was rude to you, and I came to apologize."

  With words like that, she'd fall to his feet in worship. He didn't have to say them. Her body melted a little that he did though, and she smiled. "Your dad just died. You're easily forgiven."

  With a nod he said, "It's not your fault that my family bought you off."

  Alice winced but then relaxed. How misguided his opinions were—misguided and wrong. She kept her voice even. "When someone signs a business contract to sell in the market, it makes them partners. It's called the free market, not the slave market."

  Outside the bar someone splashed at the pool beyond the window. John's shoulders slumped. "And my family takes advantage to control the free part."

  She tilted her head. He apologized for the entirely wrong things, but now wasn't the time to sound like a harpy. "Now that is true, but I don't blame you for that. No one forced my family into any contracts to make money. What offended me at the funeral parlor was how you acted as if you couldn't be bothered with someone who did business with your family. We were friends, John. Never think I'd betray anything you'd ever say or do."

  "I didn't. Not really." His gaze remained full of judgment, but then she might be reading him wrong. She swallowed as he said, "I tend to jump to the worst conclusions when it comes to my family's business policies. I apologize. Would you like a drink?"

  "No, thanks. I want to know you're okay."

  "Why do you care?"

  "You're Vicki's brother." Her chest tightened and she rubbed the back of her neck. Why not tell him the truth? Neither of them were children and she'd never see him again once the funeral was over and he went back to wherever he was from. "I went to your football games because I had the biggest crush on you then."

  "A crush? You? Alice, I didn't know." His face softened and the outlines of his dimples puckered his cheeks.

  Sexiness was no reason to fall apart. She straightened the hem of her dress, wishing she'd worn something sexier—though he'd told her earlier that she filled out her dress just fine. "Now you do. It was a long time ago."

  He appeared caught off guard by her declaration. She looked into his deep blue eyes and he took a step backwards. "Because of my family money?"

  "No. Don't be rude again." Her heartbeat was so rapid that she feared losing her ability to speak but she fought through because she needed to finish what she'd started. She held the back of her bar stool. "Because you never treated me like a peasant that your sister brought home from the streets."

  His smile faltered as he studied her. She felt like an ice cube that had been out in the sun too long. For relief, she stepped into the shadows as he then said, "Alice, you went to school with us. Your family is far from the peasant class in any century."

  The oranges up north ensured that her family stayed millionaires as long as the farm stayed productive. She blinked. "Not everyone in your family agrees."

  He softened his voice. "Peter?"

  Guessed right the first time. His brother had said that her contract depended on getting John to the funeral. She coughed and then stared back at him. "Yeah."

  His shoulders relaxed as he s
tepped closer to her with a genuine smile on his face. "I'm glad I asked the concierge to bring you to me."

  Unsure how she became so lightheaded so fast, she hung onto her chair. The air around her smelled like cedar and pine trees and John. She hoped she'd get the thump of her heart under control before she lost her precious control. "Is that what this was? I thought I was summoned."

  "Summoned? I can't command anything from you. You can go if you wish." The last thing she wanted was to leave his side.

  Then he offered his arm. "I hope you'll stay, though. I don't want to spend the night alone. I just spent the evening with people I no longer wish to know, and I could use your company."

  Heat rose to her cheekbones and she’d have bet she was blushing. All her life, she'd dreamed John would be hers. To build a wall, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I'm not inviting you into my room, if that's the implication."

  "No." He smiled at her. His warm gaze sent her heart into a tizzy. She dropped her arms to her side as he said, "I was hoping you'd have dinner with me here, and maybe a drink. I have a suite on the thirteenth floor."

  A drink and dinner with her Prince Charming. She must be dreaming. Maybe she should throw caution to the wind for one night with John. She was an adult now, and her reactions to him sent her body into overdrive. The House of Morgan always controlled the deck of cards, but soon enough he'd be gone back to wherever he came.

  In the future, she'd still be here and end up married to someone who could tolerate farm life. This night might be all she'd ever get of John Morgan. She shrugged her shoulders. "If you are afraid of bad luck or Al Capone's hauntings, you might want to change floors."

  "Nope." John held out his hand. "Will you hang out with me tonight?"

  Hang out was far too tame for her thoughts. Alice brushed her fingers down his thin, long-sleeved shirt, until she reached his hand. Her flesh seemed electrified. If he touched her bare skin, she'd wrap her arms around him, wanting to see every part of his body. This neediness was so unlike her. She wanted to agree with anything he said when she usually questioned everything. "Sure. Let me go change. Meet you here in an hour?"

  At least she sounded normal. Earlier she couldn't even do that. She leaned into him as he said, "Perfect, and thank you."

  She tilted her head. "For what?"

  His dimpled smile drew her into a dream as he said, "For forgiving me so fast."

  The wake seemed a long time ago now. "In the House of Morgan, no one taught you to let things go?"

  The no he gave when he shook his head didn't match the humorous gleam in his eyes. "No, that wasn't one of the lessons."

  She turned to leave the bar, but peeked behind her. John watched her and his muscular body combined with those blue eyes and dazzling smile triggered something deep inside her. This was her fantasy coming true, so she'd enjoy every moment until it was over. "Well then, welcome to Alice's worldview tonight. You might regret this tomorrow."

  He winked at her. "Somehow I doubt it."

  With a spring in her step, she sashayed from the pool and picked up her room key and bag. John said hang out, but this was one night where she could pretend to be Cinderella. Alone in the elevator, she licked her lips and wondered what John's kiss would taste like. She'd bet it was tastier than the freshest strawberries from their fields.

  Chapter Five

  Once inside the elegant hotel room, Alice picked up her phone and stared at the screen. Her mother had called. She rolled her shoulders. No, she'd not report in—she chose to let it charge instead.

  Tonight she had her fantasy date with John. Her dreams mattered too. She wouldn't let anyone's opinion sway her, especially since it concerned a Morgan.

  Adrenaline pumped in her veins as she rushed around the room to get ready. Out of her two dresses, she chose the silky black one with the lower neckline and would keep the sweetheart with the flared hem for tomorrow. Her just-in-case-something-happened backup dress was now her date dress.

  She'd packed two pairs of underwear. If she wore the lacy silk ones tonight, tomorrow she'd be at the funeral in her plain cotton panties that might show a line across her backside. The cameras wouldn't focus on her, so she chose the sexier pair. Tonight she was the star. Tomorrow, she'd keep her hands to her sides and slink into a pew.

  She fixed her hair as straight as it could in this humidity. At the mirror, she ensured her makeup was flawless. Everything had to be perfect.

  Satisfied with how the neckline revealed her assets, Alice stared at her necklace. The Tiffany gold that Victoria gave her somehow glowed brighter. Should she take it off? Would her friend be upset if she slept with John? So she asked, "Do I have your permission to go out with your brother?"

  Alice's face grew a wicked grin as she imagined Vicki saying, Please take him off my hands.

  Vicki'd had a sense of timing and had known what to say to everyone. She left the necklace around her neck. Alice always asked herself WWVD, which meant what would Vicki do, if she ever found herself shy. Done, she turned away and grabbed her pocketbook. With confidence in every step, she left her room.

  Tonight was never going to be forever, so she could be someone she wasn't. Tonight she was flirtatious and fun, not studious and reserved.

  This hotel, a blend of art deco of the 1920s meets ancient Italian villa, was one of the finest in the country. The paintings on the wall promised a fairy tale where fantasies came true. Exquisite angels etched in the walls watched over her as she called the elevator to take her down to the lobby.

  She had a date with one of the mortal gods on this Earth. Fate decreed they both stayed at this hotel. Life, wherever she ended up, would never be a fairy tale. For once, she was transported into another world. Perhaps she'd even get to find out what her crush tasted like.

  As the elevators opened she spotted John from across the hall. He hadn't seen her so she studied him. He wore gray pants, a fresh white button-down shirt, and as always his hair was flawless. She glimpsed his blue eyes in profile.

  Heat inched up her back. Then he half-turned, and his smile widened the moment he saw her. Her arms grew goose bumps. They could each be somebody else. She swung her hips as she stepped toward him.

  Her feet itched to run, but she knew better. She slowed her pace to seem in control, but halfway there she barely missed the bellboy's luggage cart. Alice ducked—her big opening scene almost ruined. Then she laughed at herself. So much for those lessons on deportment that Victoria imparted from her actual etiquette lessons.

  She gazed at John. His blue eyes stared right at her. She stopped laughing, but then he broke into a small laugh. She turned her head to the side to hide her giggles.

  Without another incident she made her way to where he waited. As she stared up, his bright smile dimpled with approval. Her heart beat just for him. He took her hands in his and squeezed lightly. The skin he touched on her body sparked like she was a firework, though he simply said, "You look amazing, Alice."

  He towered over her, exuding pure male testosterone. He hugged her and kissed her cheek, which was how everyone in Miami greeted each other, and never meant anything. Her skin tingled again. Then she caught a whiff of cedar and… gunpowder. She wiggled her nose to be sure. The scent was unmistakable. Then she crossed her arms. "Why do you smell like a gun?"

  "I do?"

  She swallowed. "Yeah, you do."

  Silence hung in the air, but she expected an answer.

  He stared hard at her. "How do you know what a gun smells like?"

  This wasn't happening. He hadn't answered. She'd better not be on a date with a man who became a mafia's boss—and he hadn't inherited his father's evil personality. Her gaze narrowed. "I grew up in the country, where sometimes animals need to be put down. What is it you do? And don't lie. It's got to be something serious for you to smell like that."

  "I shouldn't tell you." He peeked around the room and avoided her stare. She licked her lips. Otherwise she stayed still. John Morgan was not the billio
naire rebel without a clue. His cheeks reddened. The color in his cheeks showed he was in the prime of his life. Then he leaned down. Her heart did a pitter-patter as he whispered in her ear, "I spent the past three years in the FBI, so I practically sleep with my gun."

  "You work as a government agent?" She kept her voice low too. "Your father cursed the fact my dad served and that my brother went off to serve." Memories surfaced of how Mitch Morgan vocally hated all forms of government agents.

  "I remember your dad mentioning Colt's choice to go to basic training. I'm sorry you heard my father's rantings."

  His father didn't matter. Safety did. John was a man of integrity and honor. Her lips craved to brush against his. "How did your family feel about this?"

  With a shrug, he said, "I don't want to talk about Dad tonight."

  True. The man had stolen enough of their day already, but her curiosity continued. "He couldn't have been happy you chose to serve your country."

  "He threatened to cut me off."

  "Did he?"

  "No, but he should have. I didn't touch a dime once I left."

  "He used money to keep you on a leash."

  "You understand too much." Then he shook his head. "The money doesn't drive me or matter."

  She swallowed. It was impossible that a Morgan would walk away from the dynasty. In her own family, she couldn't walk away from the farm entirely, though she refused to ever touch a crop again, unless it was to help in an emergency. Her parents sacrificed everything for her and she'd do the same for them. "Then why did you come back?"

  "Because Peter asked."

  Peter and John were all each other had. She kept the thought to herself. With a shrug, she followed him to the restaurant. "So? If Colt wants me to do something I don't want, then it doesn't happen."

  The hostess took his name and gave him a buzzer. On their way back outside, he whispered, "I needed to see with my own eyes. If my father is dead there is no way to take him down."

  "Was that why you joined the FBI?"