‘Moreau International is wealthy—me, not so much. And I’m not that much of a social butterfly. Much to my mother’s despair,’ Morgan said quietly as she pulled oversized Audrey Hepburn sunglasses out of her black bag and slipped them on. ‘Would you believe me if I told you that I’d rather pound a stake into my ear than attend a soirée or a cocktail evening?’
He wouldn’t, actually. Look at her—she radiated confidence, class and poise. She was Morgan Moreau and her blood ran very blue. Unlike his, which was of the cheap Scottish whisky variety.
You’re a long way from home, lad. Remember that.
‘Then why do you do it?’
Morgan sent him a surprised look, opened her mouth to reply and shut it again. She dodged around a group of teenagers looking in a storefront window and looked resigned. ‘So, what did you think of Sylvester Cadigan?’ she asked a few moments later.
Change of subject, but he’d circle back round to her later. ‘He seems competent. He wasn’t happy that I demanded a complete and detailed dossier of the security arrangements they put in place for the last ball. He thought that I was questioning his professionalism.’
‘Weren’t you?’ Morgan sent him a direct look with those bottle-green eyes.
‘Sure I was. I don’t trust anyone.’ Especially when it was his rep on the line. ‘I’ll have a lot more questions for him tomorrow, after I’ve reviewed the dossier he’s emailing me.’
‘Do you need someone from Moreau to attend that meeting?’ Morgan asked as they approached the gold and white façade of Moreau’s Gems.
‘No. We’re going to investigate entrances and exits, look at the surveillance system. I think I can manage without someone holding my hand.’
‘Good,’ Morgan said, and gestured to the building in front of them. ‘MI’s flagship store, established in 1925.’
Noah looked at the façade of the jewellery store and swallowed down his impressed whistle. The very wide floor-to-ceiling window was lavishly decorated in a 1920s theme, Noah guessed. There were feather boas, deckchairs with tipped-over champagne bottles, strings of pearls hanging from or wrapped around silver ice buckets. Brooches pinned to berets left in sand, discarded chiffon dresses under a spectacular emerald and diamond necklace. Rings scattered in beach sand.
He hadn’t passed the window when he’d arrived that morning, going directly to the separate doors that led up to the MI corporate offices. The window was fantastic and made him want to explore the store and see what other treasures were hidden within. And that, he supposed, was exactly the point.
‘Amazing.’
‘Riley’s work,’ Morgan replied proudly. ‘She’s utterly marvellous at what she does. She changes the display every month and she keeps it top secret. On the first of every month we all traipse down here, along with a horde of shoppers, to see what she’s done. It’s like Christmas every month.’
‘She’s very talented.’
‘All the big stores keep trying to steal her away but she’s loyal to us. Although she and James knock heads continuously. She demands carte blanche to do what she wants with the windows; James demands that she runs her designs past him first.’ Morgan waved at a store employee through the glass. ‘Having Riley and James in the same room is fabulous entertainment. They argue like mad. I can’t wait to hear her ideas on themes for the ball.’
Oh, God, here comes the girly stuff. ‘Themes? What’s wrong with putting on some fancy duds and showing up?’
‘Pffft! You sound just like my father. How would that be different from the other sixty balls happening in the city alone? We organise the Moreau Ball, not just a ball.’
Morgan turned away and headed to the MI entrance further down the street.
‘How long will you be in New York for?’ she asked, super-casually.
It was the first vaguely personal question she’d asked him and he wondered if he had imagined the flicker of attraction cross her face.
He was pretty sure his attraction had flashing neon bulbs and a loud hailer.
‘If I get all the information I need I’ll try and fly out tomorrow evening. I’ll draw up my report, with recommendations and time-frames, then email it to you, James and your mother,’ he said as they stepped up to the entrance of MI and the automatic doors swished open.
A guard gestured him to move away from Morgan; he stepped up to sign in at the security desk and to be patted down for the second time that day. Then he followed Morgan through the metal detectors and on to the bank of elevators.
‘I’ll arrange security clearance for you so you can swipe your way through,’ Morgan said as they waited for a lift. ‘Where are you staying tonight?’
The lift doors opened and they stepped inside. He could smell her scent, feel her heat, and their eyes collided in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors as he answered her question. ‘In the MI company flat in the Lisbon Building, on West and Fifty-Seventh Street.’
‘I know where it is. I live in the apartment above it. James, when he stays in town, is above me in the penthouse. My parents are in the family house in Englewood Cliffs.’
Noah shook his head. ‘Never heard of it. Where is that?’
‘Northern New Jersey, Long Island. About...hmm...ten miles from downtown Manhattan.’ The tip of her pink tongue peeked out from between her luscious lips. It made him wonder what that mouth would feel like, how that tongue would taste. Still the same? Better?
‘So, I’m single.’
Morgan looked confused. ‘Okay. Thanks for sharing that.’
‘You?’
Where was this going? ‘Um...me too.’
Noah placed his shoulder against the mirror and couldn’t believe what he was about to say next. His accent deepened as he spoke softly. ‘Do you know something?’
‘What?’
‘MI have not, officially, signed any contract, so I’m technically not affiliated or contracted to MI yet. I don’t think we’re going to be working together, because you don’t seem to have much inclination or willingness to organise this event...’
‘Try none—and can you tell my mother that?’ said Morgan, then frowned. ‘And your point is...?’
‘My point is that, technically, I can do this...’ Noah stepped closer to her, placed his hands on her hips and dropped his head so that his mouth lined up with hers. ‘I want to see if you taste the same.’
Morgan’s eyes widened as her hands came up to rest on the lapels of his suit jacket. ‘Uh...what are you doing?’
‘Kissing you. Because we’re both single, we’re not linked by business, and because I want to,’ Noah whispered against her lips.
They were as soft as they looked, as piquant as he remembered. They softened under his and he lifted his hand to push it under the weight of her hair, encircling
