Secret Date

by Victoria Pinder

  Silence drove John away from trusting his older brother. He stepped out of the car, his every cell crawling with sweat. The humid air in Atlanta lacked the cool breezes coming off the ocean. "Peter..."

  "Come back to Miami. There's nothing holding you there. Now that Dad's dead you can stop arresting all of his lowlife associates who will never darken our doors again."

  "You knew?"

  "Yeah. Dad knew too. There was nothing any of us could do to bring Vicki back. Come home."

  John hung up and took the elevator to his office and picked up his report, then went to stand outside a conference room that overlooked Atlanta. Peter's call changed everything. John's boss, Special Agent Smith, waved him in.

  This was it. John's throat was parched.

  A part of him had failed. He'd never see Mitch Morgan in handcuffs.

  Smith leaned back in his office chair, near the wall, and took his time. John stayed still and noticed the dead flowers on a cabinet in the corner of his office. Smith nodded at him. "You're on now, John. Go."

  John's mind was in a daze. His skin felt clammy. He was supposed to give his report on white-collar crime statistics and an oral report on what happened at the Hudson estate.

  His father's old friend had been taken down in this investigation, but no one had ever uncovered any evidence on Mitch Morgan. Now, he'd never find it. Dad was dead.

  He rubbed his forehead. Then he slid the report across the table. "I can't do this right now."

  "What's the matter, Morgan?" His boss clasped his hands together.

  John swallowed and gazed into the older man's brown eyes. Special Agent Smith already hated him. John bet that his boss knew and expected the spoiled heir to return to his life of privilege. Pressing his lips together, he said, "My father is dead."

  Smith's nose curled and his tone was the same he used when interrogating someone. "Your father owns more than half the corporate businesses in this country, and much of that came from illegal activities."

  "We've never found evidence."

  Smith pressed his hands on his desk. "He needs to pay for his crimes."

  "You can't prosecute a dead man."

  John placed his hands in his pockets as he quoted the law and perspiration trickled down his spine. "I have to go."

  In his dark suit, Special Agent Smith stood and then crossed his arms. "Don't bother coming back."

  Now that Mitch Morgan was dead, Peter was the heir, but John would likely inherit billions of stolen dollars. The House of Morgan was richer than 99.9 percent of the world's population with stock in oil production, electricity, computer intellectual property, banking, and every other investment a hundred years of savvy ancestors had made. John turned around at the door. Smith wasn't worth his time. He shrugged. "Does this mean I'm fired?"

  "It would if I had anything on you." His boss glared at him as his face reddened. "You're useless to me now."

  John's shoulders tightened. The FBI had been his purpose for years. He didn't know what to say. He held his jaw tight. Smith had never liked him on his team, but who understood Mitch Morgan better than his own son? They both knew where they stood. Despite the animosity, he couldn't be fired, not by Smith, not without cause, and there was none. John left. He'd be better off finding out about Frank's interrogation.

  No one said anything to him on his way to the elevator. As he waited to leave the building, he texted Peter. I'm coming home. I'll text my arrival time when I get to the airport.

  Peter texted right back. Take the private jet.

  John shook his head. He walked into the elevator, hit the button for the first floor, and let his mind wander. He remembered his sister's tears the month before she died. He vowed to never let something like that happen to anyone else he loved.

  The House of Morgan, which was how they were raised to say family, changed with her death. Despite being the spitting image of his dad, John would never be like his old man, though he'd go to his funeral.

  It was a farce he needed to experience for himself.

  As the elevator doors opened, he took one final look around the FBI headquarters in Atlanta. The pristine white building once commanded him to believe in justice at all costs. He coughed and realized he no longer believed that. He wasn't sure of his own purpose anymore, but Peter was right on one thing. He had nothing left at the FBI.

  John put on his sunglasses to block the blinding sun and hurried out the door.

  Today he'd go home. Then he'd figure out what he was supposed to do next. Vengeance left him empty and unfulfilled.

  The House of Morgan

  Secret Crush

  Secret Baby

  Secret Bet

  Secret Wish

  Secret Dad

  Secret Heir

  Secret Tryst

  Secret Date

  Secret Romeo

  Secret Match (coming Feb 2019)

  The House of Morgan Boxed Set 1-3

  The House of Morgan Boxed Set 4-6

  And don’t forget to pick up Returning for Valentine’s (FREE if you go to my website)

  Secret Baby Preview

  Victoria Morgan smiled at the young woman about to purchase the most elaborate Sophia Tolli bridal gown in her boutique. A vibration made Vicki turn and peek at the screen on her vibrating cell phone. Did you have a kid and not tell anyone?

  Her lips parted and her heart skipped a beat. While she waited for the credit card to process, her unsteady fingers typed a reply. Call me.

  Can't. Vicki's hands shook while she tore the receipt from the printer and handed it to the bride-to-be. Her phone vibrated again. "You're going to be so happy," she managed, handing the woman a pen, then glanced at her brother's text.

  Colt's at my house with a little girl that looks like you.

  She looks like me?

  After shoving the receipt beneath the register tray, Vicki walked around the counter and placed trembling fingers on the soon-to-be-bride's back as she guided her to the exit. "It's a gorgeous gown, and you'll be an even more gorgeous bride."

  Vicki managed to remain upright through the parting pleasantries until the moment the door latched shut. Her chest constricted, and she grabbed for a counter and doubled over, gasping for air. It couldn't be. Her baby had died. It was why she'd left town years ago. Right?

  "Josie, I have to go," she called to her store manager, as she fumbled for her phone and checked her bag for keys.

  "Sure. You're white as a ghost," Josie answered, as she glanced at Vicki from behind a pouf of white lace she'd been steaming. "Hope everything is okay. Can I do something to help?"

  "No, thank you."

  The phone vibrated again. Get over here, now.

  On my way. Stall him.

  She ran out the door.

  Her brother, John Morgan, was engaged to Alice Collins, Colt's little sister. Vicki swallowed as she fumbled to get her keys. Her father, Mitch Morgan’s fingerprints were all over this. Her father had been the only person with her the day she found out her own daughter died, and he had always intended her to help Morgan Enterprises succeed.

  His pressure to date one of his future acquisitions was why she let her family believe her to be dead.

  How did Colt Collins get involved in this? And why would he have her baby?

  She had a pain in her chest as she dropped the keys onto the ground. She fell to her knees to pick them up.

  Her mind swirled. Alice had mentioned to her Colt was leaving his service with the Marines soon. She hadn't mentioned a child. Vicki's gaze clouded.

  She brushed her knees then ran in the parking lot.

  Had Colt stolen their daughter? Images of the past all collided in her head, where nothing made sense. This was too much to believe, considering how things ended between them. She hadn't told him she was pregnant. Then, the day of her baby's birth, she'd run and disappeared. Colt had been at boot camp then. He couldn't have taken her baby. She needed to breathe. Vicki ran to her Lexus SUV parked behind in the lot.

/>   Her heart raced, and she fumbled with her keys as she tried to get them into the lock, but she succeeded and jumped into the driver's seat. Tugging at her ear, she started the engine and waited for someone in the next spot to close a car door. Her skin prickled with unease.

  Finally, she drove out of the back gate.

  One fact repeated itself over and over in her brain as she stared at the red light. Her father had been the one with her at the hospital the day she gave birth then lost her baby.

  Everyone in the House of Morgan had one person to blame, including her.

  Her adrenaline spiked, but she worked out the situation. The Marines didn't let out cadets during advanced training to be an officer and they didn't let them return with infants, but Mitch Morgan had specific ideals on how he could profit on her life, like she was a business deal.

  She nodded to herself. This was logical. Something else happened, and the foul taste in her mouth reeked of a Morgan trick.

  Her heavy stomach refused to accept this. Her baby being alive changed everything. Cocking her head to the side of the road, she saw sunshine that beamed onto the street in front of her. What if what John texted was true and her daughter lived? Her hand flew to her chest, like she could hold in the hope growing there.

  Like the humidity in Miami, the sensation pressed through faster than lightning in her skin.

  Someone walked across the street, and Vicki slammed on the brakes. She'd almost missed the red light. Lowering her forehead to the steering wheel, she took a deep breath and waited for the dizziness to abate and her thoughts to clear. She inhaled deeply. She'd been so stupid.

  The light turned green and she continued on. Touching her mother's necklace around her neck helped steady her. Vicki shook off the powerful fear and turned down the last street. Colt had been the most honest man she'd ever known. He was nothing like the men who wished to impress the House of Morgan, her father's way to say "family."

  After driving well over the speed limit, she finally parked in John's driveway and fixed her gray floral skirt and pink blouse. She stepped out into the pressing, never-ending heat, and took a deep breath to stop her stomach from flipping.

  She massaged her throat and stared at the white door. Then she gazed into the front yard. Colt's old blue pickup truck and a Marines license plate made her knees buckle. He was here. Breathlessly, she told herself there was a reason, but it didn't matter.

  Her high heels clinked on the pavement of the driveway. She tried to not believe. Her baby was dead. She shouldn't let her heart race so fast. Everything was a probably a misunderstanding and wishing on her part.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she battled to steady her racing pulse. She finally pressed the doorbell and waited for someone to open. Questions flew through her head. What would her baby look like? She must have her blonde hair for John to recognize her. Perhaps her eyes too?

  Seeing with her own eyes her baby being alive was all that mattered, as her foot tapped against the stoop and she heard Alice's voice inside.

  Vicki stared at the ground, forced herself to inhale and exhale, but her hands twitched at her side. The lock clicked and Vicki waited. A memory flashed to the day at the hospital. Her father hadn't said anything when the nurse told her, except he said everything was as it should be.

  Her breath hitched as the door opened. Mitch Morgan's crimes grew if he truly did this.

  Heaviness spread down her spine and pressed against her heart.

  The doors opened, and she hesitated. Vicki rubbed her forearms and fought the chill spreading through her body. Alice smiled at her and opened the door wider. "Hello. We weren't expecting you, Vicki."

  She gazed into Colt's brown eyes. Her childhood crush's face lost its color, and the tension in her body lessened. For four weeks, Colt had been hers, and her mouth fell open slightly. The Marines had transformed him from sexy, cute boy to hard-bodied, muscular man. Those strong arms, wide shoulders, and deliciously sexy body were all new. But the coldness he stared back at her with kept her silent.

  Alice called out, "John, Vicki's here."

  She then walked backward and went to the bedroom.

  Vicki couldn't breathe. She did a double take. Colt wouldn't lie. Her father had always lied. What happened? And where was her baby?

  She swallowed, and her gaze went to bedroom door.

  John stood in the kitchen with a tray and coughed for her attention. She turned toward him, but she was lightheaded. Her heart cracked open. The air in the room held something, and she was in the right place. Her eyes met her brother's stare, and she asked, "Where is she?"

  John's eyes widened. Vicki refused to listen. Not now. John nodded at her. "In the other room."

  A moment later Alice ran out of the bedroom chasing a blonde, blue-eyed little girl. "Vicki, this is my niece Clara."

  Vicki's heart melted as she stared at her daughter.

  Her ears replayed the named Clara, and she swallowed. Colt had chosen his mother's name.

  He had to have known from the beginning.

  Impossible. Her heart beat faster, so fast it almost fell out of her ribs. Stepping backward in the hall, Vicki stared at the girl. Her heart screamed that she had found her daughter. She covered her mouth; the fluttering in her stomach had her skin all a tingle.

  Colt stepped in her vision, shook his head, and picked up the little girl immediately. "Clara, honey, it's time to go."

  Vicki gripped the end table, but knocked the lamp over. No. Colt could not take her away.

  Alice stared at her wide-eyed. "My brother is home to stay and brought his daughter over to visit me. Vicki, you're white as a ghost."

  Another betrayal, but this time from her best friend. The thought brought back some coherency.

  "His daughter?" Vicki asked in a shaky voice. Then she stared at the little girl. She had her blonde hair, not Colt's dark hair. But she had her father's face. "Did you know, Alice?"

  Alice's eyes narrowed. "Know what?"

  Vicki pursed her lips. A heavy cloud descended upon her brain as she thought one word to herself: lies. Fumbling for words, she met Colt's narrowed and stormy stare. She'd ask Alice later, but right now she turned, gulped, and asked, "Haven't you been in Afghanistan? How do you have a daughter?"

  "Someone had to care for her." Colt's strong arms held that girl tight to his chest. "I made time for my daughter, as any man would."

  The girl laughed. "Daddy, who's she?"

  Colt kept the girl wrapped in his arms. "No one, sweetheart. We have to go."

  John stepped next to Alice and called out, "Colt, wait. We all have eyes. My sister faked her death for years. She will have a good reason."

  "Clara deserves more than excuses." Colt stepped away and grabbed a small bag.

  Vicki's voice cracked. "What? Colt, is she—"

  "You know who she is, and why I don't want my daughter hurt," Colt interrupted, and carried his daughter toward the door. "Leave us alone, Victoria Morgan."

  Alice called out in a small voice, "What are you talking about?"

  Right now Vicki couldn't let him leave. Six years of her life were all a lie. Vicki stepped forward and got in Colt's way as he made a beeline for the door. She inhaled, and Colt had the same smell of oranges mixed with oak trees. Her nose turned toward him despite everything, and no argument formed. All she could do was ask, "Please, Colt, what's going on?"

  "Why am I the one with answers?" He kissed the girl, who giggled in his arms. "I came home from war and wanted my daughter to visit my sister and her soon-to-be husband. What are you asking me?"

  Her heart raced, though her muscles went rigid. "Who's her mother?"

  "Don't do this in front of her." Colt shook his head and tried to cover the girl's ears. "Step out of the way, Victoria."

  "Daddy, is that lady my mom?" Clara's singsong voice and trust in Colt knocked Vicki hard in her stomach. "She's awfully pretty."

  Vicki's breath hitched. Her baby was alive.

  Colt bounced the g
irl in his arm. "Doesn't matter, sweetheart. Daddy loves you."

  "Am I?" Vicki repeated the question with a high voice, her hand on her chest. She needed to hear the affirmation.

  "This isn't possible." Alice shook her head. "When in the world did my brother date my best friend?"

  Vicki didn't look at her friend, though her heart hammered as she stared into Colt's brown eyes.

  "Don't hurt her, Victoria Morgan. The House of Morgan has done enough damage." Colt stepped around her and opened the front door. He kept his daughter in his arms, and outside, on the front stoop, he called to his sister, "Alice, we'll get together another time."

  A sudden coldness hit Vicki's core. She doubled over the second the door closed and she heard his truck engine. The words hadn't formed in her mouth to say something to stop him. Her muscles went rigid again. She couldn't believe Colt Collins would deceive her. Unlike her father, Colt had always been a stand-up guy. A small part of her heart whispered that he'd been the one to keep Clara safe.

  Her baby's name was Clara.

  It was a pretty name.

  John came over and hugged her. Turning to her brother, she let him hold her trembling body.

  Alice sat on her couch with her mouth open. Then she rubbed her pregnant belly. John repositioned himself to hold his fiancée's hand too. Alice tapped his leg and then switched seats with John to sit next to Vicki. Vicki hardly noticed anything until Alice took her hand. Her friend now smelled more like a mom as she quietly asked, "Did you have a baby with my brother, Vicki?"

  Vicki's eyes widened. She'd never spoken about this. Everything in her head was fuzzy, but she nodded.

  Alice clutched her stomach, and John dropped hers to massage his wife's shoulder and arm.

  Alice pressed her lips together. "Why didn't you say anything? I didn't know you even dated my brother."

  "A month doesn't count as dating." Clawing her nails into the seat cushion, Vicki forced herself to relax. She gazed at the marble floors and then up to the windows that showed Biscayne Bay. The water view somehow cleared her mind. Vicki swallowed and stared at Alice. "My baby died the day she was born."

  "No one told me about you and Colt." Alice shook her head. "For years, your name never came up. Please explain this one more time. How did you have my brother's baby without me knowing?"