Secret Bet (House of Morgan #3)

“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.”

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