Flirting with the Forbidden. Joss Wood
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‘In you go, darling, and smile!’
Hannah placed a hand on her back and she bared her teeth at her mother as she stepped into the conference centre. Her hand still on the doorknob, she looked around—and her head jerked back as dazzling blue eyes connected with hers.
Deep brown hair... Auterlochie... A deep Sean Connery voice explaining that it was a town in the Scottish Highlands, situated on a loch, and he’d once visited it with a friend. Two young boys had fished and explored the icy banks there, and he’d told her when he opened his business it would be called Auterlochie something.
It was the one of the longest sentences he’d strung together, and Morgan had been enthralled by his Scottish accent and the light of determination in those fantastic cobalt eyes... Noah Fraser.
Morgan’s heart splattered as it hit the floor. Bats on a broomstick.
She stepped back behind the door and squeezed her eyes shut. Eight years and she still wished she could acid-wash the memory out of her brain.
‘Excuse me. I really need to go to the bathroom.’
‘Oh, Morgan? Right now? The meeting...’
Hannah’s voice followed her down the hall.
In the upscale visitors’ bathroom where she’d fled after Hannah had dropped her verbal meteor strike, Morgan sat on the lid of a toilet and stared at her hands. She knew she had to get moving, get to the meeting, or her mum would hunt her down like a rabid fox but she didn’t know if she could face Noah Fraser again.
She’d rather flush herself down the toilet bowl.
‘Morgs?’ A fist rapped on the door. ‘You in there? Your mum is not a happy camper.’
Morgan leaned forward and flipped the lock to open. Riley pulled the door open and frowned. She sent her a pointed look. ‘Why are you hiding out in the bathroom?’
Morgan bit the inside of her cheek. ‘Did you meet Noah Fraser?’
‘The security guy? Yes. Very intense, very hot.’
Morgan swore and dropped her face to her hands.
‘And the problem is...?’
Morgan briefly explained her history with Noah and Riley lifted her hands in confusion. ‘So you made a move on the guy and he said no? It was a long time ago, Morgan.’
Morgan knew that if there was anyone who would understand what she was about to say Riley was it. They’d been friends forever and she had witnessed Morgan’s constant struggles with the system. Shortly after the incident with Noah she’d moved in as Morgan’s flatmate. Riley had watched her struggle through college to get her diploma in Gemology and Jewellery Design—it had taken her double the time to get as anyone else, even with a scribe—and she knew the challenges she faced on a daily basis and had supported her through the hard times.
‘Okay, I need more details. So tell me about Mr Melt-My-Panties. And hurry up—your mother is going to have both our hides soon.’
‘When I was nineteen the parents had some kidnapping threats made against them by some weird group and Noah was assigned as my bodyguard.’
‘Uh-huh...’
‘After a week of hanging with him I threw myself at him—actually, I threw my naked self at him.’ Morgan nodded at Riley’s wince. ‘He kissed me, discovered I was a virgin, and then he declined the offer. I was so humiliated. I liked him—felt so at ease with him despite the fact that he hardly spoke—and his rejection felt like—’
‘Like what, hon?’
‘I can’t explain it, and I don’t know why, but his rejection made me feel swamped with shame. Every emotion I’d ever experienced with my dyslexia—the lack of self-belief, the fear of judgement—dropped on me like a ton of bricks. It was horrible. He made me feel worthless again. And now is not the time to tell me that nobody can make me feel worthless!’
‘Okay. No lectures. Did he know that you were dyslexic?’
‘No, I was very careful to keep it from him. For that summer I was Morgan without the big D. That’s what made it even harder, I think... He rejected me anyway. Around him I was the most normal I had ever been and it still wasn’t enough. I still can’t think of that night without feeling cold and clammy.’
‘Oh, honey... Well, you know you’re not worthless. You’ve worked hard to climb out of that pit of feeling less than and not valued. Why are you letting those feelings, and that man, chase you into a bathroom stall? You’re better than that.’
She was, dammit. ‘I know that...’ she muttered.
‘Then get your butt out of there and pick up your chin. You’ll be fine. Me, I’m not so sure.’ Riley wiggled her butt.
Morgan lifted her hands in query. ‘What’s the matter with you?’
‘I think my panties are starting to melt...can I hit on him?’
‘Sheez, Ri!’ Morgan snapped. ‘No, you can’t hit on him! I mean, yes, you can... Aarrgh!’
Riley’s chuckles followed her out of the bathroom.
* * *
This time he’d sent her running.
Judging from her hasty retreat and her oh, crap! look, nobody had told her he would be at the meeting. While he hadn’t expected Morgan to attend this meeting, at least he’d been prepared to run into her. And he’d had a six hour flight to practise his oh-it’s-you face.
He understood her belting out of the room; he’d fought the same impulse himself. That and the inclination to grab her and pick up where they’d left off years ago. She’d be naked, of course...
Noah looked down at the table he was sitting at and concentrated hard. Thirty-three years old and he was grateful that his crotch was hidden from view by a sleek boardroom table.
Get a grip, Fraser. Distraction... Years ago he’d used firearm drills; now he just flipped open his iPad and checked his emails. Ten minutes later he glanced at his watch and stifled a frustrated sigh. The meeting still hadn’t started.
He’d made Morgan run off screaming into the... Well, not the night, but he still couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t his finest memory and he hadn’t been naked...with a Brazilian... Do not go there, Fraser.
He glanced over to the corner, where Hannah Moreau and her son James, who’d just entered the conference room, were standing. He’d met James once before, and despite the fact that he was one of the richest men in the world he rather liked the guy. He was smart, decisive, and didn’t give off an air of being precious.
He also knew, from Chris, that he played a cracking game of touch rugby, didn’t play polo, and could talk to miners and millionaires with equal ease. He couldn’t help hoping that Morgan had turned out equally well.
Not that he cared—much—one way or the other.
Noah