‘Well, stop it! Why?’
Noah lifted one shoulder and looked at her as he put the water bottle to his lips. Lucky water bottle... Really, Morgan! Do try to be less pathetic, please.
‘You’re sitting there thinking that politeness demands that you have to talk to me and the only thing you want to talk about is why I walked away so long ago.’
The ego of the man! The arrogant, condescending, annoying son-of-a... He was so right, damn him.
‘I haven’t thought of you once since you left,’ she said, with a credible amount of ice in her voice.
‘Liar,’ Noah said softly, his eyes sparking with heat. ‘You’ve also wondered what it would’ve been like...’
Also wondered? Did that mean that he had too? And why was she even having this conversation with him? In fact, why was he talking at all? The Noah she knew needed pliers and novocaine to pull words out of him.
‘Well, I see that you’ve grown some social skills. Have you found that talking is, actually, quite helpful to get your point across?’
See—she could do sarcastic. And quite well. Hah!
‘My partner nagged me to improve.’
His partner? Who was she? How long had they been together? Did they have children?
Noah laughed softly. ‘You have the most expressive face in the world. Why don’t you just ask?’
‘Ask you what?’ Morgan feigned supreme indifference. ‘I have no idea what you mean.’
‘Again...liar. When I say partner I mean Chris—my business partner.’
Single! Yay! Her girl-parts did a stupid happy dance and she mentally slapped them into submission because he hadn’t really answered the question.
‘And you?’
Morgan lifted her perfectly arched dark brown eyebrows at him. She knew that they were the perfect contrast to her blonde hair. And they made her eyes look greener than they actually were. ‘That has nothing to do with you.’
Noah grinned and disturbed the million bats squatting in her stomach.
‘You are such a duchess.’
Morgan bared her teeth at him. ‘And don’t you forget it. And, just to make it clear, I do not—ever!—want to discuss Cape Town.’
‘It’s a nice city.’
Morgan growled. ‘What we did in Cape Town.’ She pushed out the clarification between clenched teeth.
‘We did? All I did was kiss you—you were the one who was naked and hoping to get lucky.’
She was going to kill him...slowly, with much pleasure.
Morgan ground her teeth together. How was this not discussing the issue? Did he not understand the concept of letting sleeping dogs lie? Obviously not.
Noah pushed his hair away from his face and rubbed his hand across his jaw. ‘As much fun as it is, exchanging barbs with you, I do need to say something about Cape Town.’
Please don’t. I’ve been humiliated enough.
Noah looked at her with serious eyes. ‘I should’ve handled it—you—the situation—better, Morgan.’ He held up a hand as her mouth opened and she abruptly shut it again. ‘It took guts to do what you did and I was cruel. I’m sorry.’
Morgan realised that she was wearing her fish-face and snapped her teeth together. He was apologising? Seriously?
‘So, that’s all I have to say.’
Ah... It was more than enough and, quite frankly, she’d still prefer to pretend it had never happened. But she had to respect him for apologising, although she had played her own part in the train wreck that had been that night.
She rubbed her suddenly sweaty palms against her thighs. ‘Okay, then. Wow. Um...thanks. I suppose I should apologise for hitting on you naked. I was rather...in your face.’
‘A woman who looks like you should never apologise for being naked,’ Noah said, humour sparking in his eyes.
It made her want to smile at him and she wasn’t quite ready to do that. Nearly, but not quite yet.
‘Can we...ahem...put it to bed?’ he asked.
Morgan rolled her eyes at the very unsubtle pun.
Way past time to change the subject, Morgan thought. ‘Mum said something about you being on your own? That you’re not with CFT any more?’
Noah nodded. ‘I have my own company doing pretty much the same thing CFT are doing. Except that we’re branching out into security analysis; this is our first job for MI. I’m here to make recommendations about what systems should be put in place to secure the collection. That’s the first step. Hopefully it’ll lead to us installing those systems.’
‘Are you good at it?’
‘Very.’
‘Okay, then.’ Morgan twisted her ring around her finger and half shrugged. ‘Today aside, I don’t have much to do with the ball, but I would hate to see anything happen to the collection. It’s fabulous; the gems are magnificent and the craftsmanship is superb.’
‘Nothing to do with the ball? I think your mum has other ideas.’ Noah finished his bottle of water, carefully replaced the cap and placed it on the table. ‘If we get the job to install the systems then I will make damn sure that nothing happens to the collection. My business would be ruined if a diamond chip went missing, and that’s not a risk I’m prepared to take.’
Morgan went cold at the thought of losing the collection. The value of the pieces meant nothing to her, but the fact that her family was the custodian of Elizabeth of Russia’s diamond ring, a pearl won by an eighteenth-century Maharani wife, and the first diamond to come out of the first Moreau mine, meant a great deal. They were valuable, sure, but they were also historically important.
But if Noah was in charge of securing them then she knew that they would be fine. He exuded an air of capability and competence and, like all those years ago, when she’d felt secure enough to hand herself over to him, she felt confident about the collection’s safety.
Noah was reliable and proficient.
Everything she wasn’t—outside of her design studio. He was a living, breathing reminder of why she could never organise the ball. She would be stepping so far out of her comfort zone... A million things could go wrong and probably would and she’d be left holding the can. Nope, this was her mum’s baby and would remain so.
Besides, she so didn’t need the stress, the responsibility or the hassle of dealing with the sexy and not-so-silent-any-more Noah Fraser, with his sexy Scottish burr and sarcastic smile.
‘Come on—time to go,’ Noah said, standing up.
He
