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."