‘Then bulldoze back, Morgs,’ James retorted. ‘What would you have done if I wasn’t here?’
‘I don’t have a clue,’ Morgan admitted as he led her back into the clapping fray. She tugged her hand out of James’s and wiped her glistening forehead with the tips of her fingers. ‘I need to visit the ladies’ room.’
James gave her a critical look. ‘You’re as white as a sheet. You need lipstick and a shot of brandy.’
Morgan placed her hand on her sternum as her stomach churned. ‘At the very, very least,’ she agreed.
* * *
On the edge of the dance floor Morgan took the hand that Noah held out and stepped into his arms. He felt solid and strong...and best of all real. Just for a moment she wished she could place her head on his shoulder and rest awhile. This was why she hated the social swirl so much; the party-girl cloak she pulled on to get her through evenings like this weighed her down. She felt exhausted and such a fraud.
‘So, what was that about?’ Noah asked, his voice somewhere above her temple.
‘What?’ It was a stupid question because she immediately knew what he was referring to.
‘James rushing to your rescue? I never imagined that you would be at a loss for words. You looked like your knees were knocking together.’
Why did he have to be so perceptive? James had assured her that they’d pulled it off, that most people had thought she was just waiting for him to join her at the podium, but if that was so then why had Noah noticed her nerves? And if he had noticed how scared she was, who else had? Oh, bats, did that mean that everyone was laughing behind her back? Sniggering?
She stepped back, lifted her hands and tossed her head. ‘I want to go home now,’ she told him, pleased that her voice sounded reasonably steady.
‘Why?’ Noah demanded.
Because I feel like a fool... ‘I have a headache.’
‘Not buying it, Duchess.’
Noah placed his hand on her hip, picked up her hand again and pushed her back into the dance. She followed his lead automatically and wished that the floor could swallow her whole. She felt hot with humiliation and cold when she thought about what was being said behind her back.
Morgan made herself meet his far too discerning eyes and didn’t realise that her pulse was beating a hard rhythm in the base of her throat.
‘Noah, I simply don’t care whether you think I am talking rubbish or not. I’m done with this evening, I’m done talking and, frankly, I’m done with you too. I need some space and some time alone.’ She shoved a hand into her hair. ‘Can you, for once, just act like a bodyguard? Can you stop talking, keep your opinions to yourself and just leave me the hell alone?’
Noah’s head jerked back and his implacable remote mask dropped into place. ‘Certainly.’
He gestured to the edge of the floor and kept a respectful distance as they walked back to the table. His voice was devoid of emotion when he spoke again. ‘If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll just organise the car.’
Morgan felt a wave of shame as she watched his broad back move away. She’d taken a hunk of his hide because she was feeling vulnerable and mortified. But mostly because she knew that he was strong enough, secure enough, to take it.
It was the perfect end to a long and terrible evening.
* * *
‘Where’s Noah?’ Riley asked, dumping her files on the coffee table in Morgan’s lounge. Sinking to the silk carpet, Riley took a grateful sip from the glass of white wine Morgan handed her.
After nearly a week of living together, in the non-biblical sense, Noah had finally realised that she was safe alone in the apartment by herself, and every day after work he left her to make use of the state-of-the-art gym and indoor swimming pool within the apartment block, Morgan explained.
‘So, how does it feel to be living with a man?’ Riley asked, kicking off her heels and crossing her legs.
Morgan sat down on the edge of the couch opposite her and half shrugged. ‘Weird, actually.’
‘And are you still in separate beds?’
Morgan glared at her. ‘What do you think?’
‘Judging by that killer look, I’d say your hormones are on a constant low simmer.’
‘You should know,’ Morgan replied.
As Riley was the only person outside of her family who knew about her dyslexia, Morgan was the only person who knew that Riley had fallen in love with James at first sight and had never quite managed to tumble out of it. She covered her feelings towards him by acting like a diva artist whenever he was around.
‘He wants me to do an underwater theme for the windows next month,’ Riley grumbled, reading her thoughts.
‘Why?’
‘Because he’s just been scuba diving in Belize and was “blown away” by the coral reefs. I told him that I needed personal experience to do a theme like that.’
Knowing that would never have been the end of their conversation, Morgan tipped her head. ‘And he said what in reply?’
‘He used that super-sarcastic tone of his and said...’ Riley tossed her bright red hair and lowered her voice. ‘“Then why don’t I just take you with me next time?”’
‘Jeez, I just wish you and James would get your stuff together, find a room, get it on and then get on with living happily ever after.’
‘Like he’s ever going to see me as anything other than your best friend.’ Riley tapped her nail against her glass. ‘Oh, wait—are you talking about us or about you and Noah?’
‘Both of us. Although that won’t happen to Noah and I.’
‘Why not?’
‘This thing between us is purely physical, Ri. We don’t discuss anything personal.’
‘Why not?’ Riley repeated.
Morgan shrugged.
‘Don’t want to venture further down the rabbit hole?’ Riley asked.
Morgan looked up at the ceiling.
‘I think he might be the one guy who’d understand the dyslexia, Morgs.’
‘I doubt it,’ Morgan replied, leaning back and putting her feet up on the coffee table. ‘He’s a perfectionist: highly driven and ambitious. Besides, Noah and I...it would be just about sex—about this crazy chemical reaction we have to each other.’
‘You like each other.’
‘We don’t know each other.’ Morgan took a huge sip of wine and rested the glass against her cheek. ‘Anyway, I’m
