Secrets & Seductions (17 page)

After she finished applying a smudge of blue-gray shadow to her eyelids, she curled and darkened her lashes. The citrus scent she misted along her throat, Morgan's particular favorite, matched the lotion she had smoothed over the rest of her body after her shower.

Humming along with the Randy Travis classic on the radio, she fiddled with her hair. For once the waves that kept it from being either curly and cute or smooth and silky didn't give her grief.

“Good hair day,” she crowed to Posy, who was too busy washing her paws to look up.

Sliding her hands lightly down her silk-clad hips, Emma danced over to the box that held her few pieces of decent jewelry. She had just poked one black pearl stud through the hole in her earlobe when her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Miss me?” Morgan asked. As always, his deep voice stirred her senses like a wooden spoon cutting through a bowl of peanut butter fudge.

Cradling the receiver against her shoulder, she put on her other earring.

“Are you on your way home?” She didn't bother to hide her excitement.

“I'm afraid not, honey.”

As she realized that no traffic noises sounded in
the background, she swallowed her disappointment. Even though he had sworn that nothing short of an earthquake would delay his departure from Seattle when the seminar was done, she wasn't about to remind him. She didn't want to come across as a nag.

“Where are you, then?” she asked. “Stuck in Emerald City?”

“Wrong again.”

His tone fueled her disappointment, pulling her lip into a pout. He didn't have to sound so damn cheerful about it!

“Right now I'm standing in front of your apartment,” he added. “How about letting me in?”

With a whoop of excitement, Emma dropped the phone onto the bed and bolted for the front door. When she got there, she skidded to a stop, tugged on the neckline of her dress to make sure everything was in its proper place and took a deep breath.

When she yanked open the door, Morgan swooped down before she could say a word. Pulling her into his arms, he plundered her mouth in a kiss that was hot enough to crack the polish on her freshly painted toenails.

Emma clamped her hands on the sides of his head as she returned the kiss. At the same time, she wrapped one leg around his and plastered herself as close to his body as she could.

“Wait, wait,” he groaned as he finally broke for
air. “Let me get inside before we end up in separate cells down at the local jailhouse.”

“On what charges?” she murmured against his throat as she allowed him to back her through the door. “We're consenting adults.”

“Arson,” he gasped, “for burning this place to the ground.”

Together they got inside. After Morgan kicked the door shut behind him, he scooped her into his arms. “Nice dress,” he observed, looking at her cleavage. “I like what's not there the best.”

“Animal.” She swatted his shoulder.

“I missed you, honey.” He spun her around in a dizzy circle before collapsing onto the couch with her more or less across his lap.

Clinging like a burr, she strung kisses down his jaw to his mouth. Beneath her hip, she could feel the gratifying strength of his response.

“I missed you, too,” she told him as she straightened up, straddling him with her dress hiked up her thighs. She smiled into his eyes. “How many days have you been gone? Three? Four?”

“A month, at least,” he muttered as he tipped his face toward hers. After another long kiss, he skimmed his hands up her legs to lift her off his lap and set her down next to him.

“Where's Posy?” he asked, glancing around. The two of them had bonded, pleasing Emma.

“On the bed,” she replied. “How was the seminar?”

He shrugged. “Typical. The baby brunch?”

She arched her brows. “Typical,” they both said in unison.

“This is getting a little scary,” Emma said when they were done laughing like a couple of kids on a sugar high.

Morgan's expression sobered. “I brought you something.”

“Cool,” she exclaimed. “I love presents.” She didn't see a package, so she gave him an exaggerated leer. “Want me to search your pockets?”

Ignoring her joke, he just looked at her. “First I have something to ask you,” he said, pressing her hand between both of his.

All the breath left her lungs in a silent whoosh, but then she realized that he wasn't the type of man who would be impulsive enough to pop some traditional question anywhere near this soon. Maybe he was going to ask if she wanted to move in with him, but even that would be a leap for a methodical man like Morgan.

Not that he was a plodder, not exactly. Just organized and cautious.

“What is it?” she asked with a smile of encouragement.

“Do you want me to show you the file on your birth parents?”

Emma's mouth dropped open and she gaped at him as her mind worked over the meaning behind what he'd just asked.

“Emma?” he asked when she continued to stare. “Honey?”

“What? What did you just ask me?” she demanded, feeling dizzy from the shock. Was this some cruel joke? Payback for her stupid seduction plan?

“I'm dead serious here,” he continued. “I'll show you the file. You deserve to see it.”

“Really?” Her voice almost squeaked. “You asked? You got permission?”

His gaze slid away from hers. “Not exactly.”

The truth hit her like a wet washcloth to the side of her face.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed as happiness flooded her system and tears of joy filled her eyes. “You love me!” She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder. “You love me!” she repeated with growing wonder, this time in a whisper.

He patted her back as though he were burping a baby. “Yes, I do,” he murmured with a dry chuckle. “What tipped you off?”

She let go of her stranglehold on his neck so she could beam up at him through her tears. “You offered to compromise your principles for me.”

He frowned and harrumphed. “Well, uh, I suppose. I've thought about it a lot and it means so much to you.” He slipped his arm around her. “It would have to be our secret, though. I hope you understand.”

For a moment she took a slow breath, letting
herself feel the excitement of being so close to the truth. Then she grabbed a tissue from the box on the end table, wiping her tears. She knew what she had to do.

“It will have to remain
your
secret,” she corrected him firmly. “But I appreciate your offer more than I can say.”

“Excuse me?” Morgan's entire spine appeared to have stiffened as he searched her face.

“I can't let you do it,” she said. “The guilt would give you an ulcer.”

“No. No, really. The offer was a genuine one. I meant what I said.”

She shook her head. “Uh-uh.”

“Are you sure?” he asked slowly. “If you change your mind later…”

She patted his hand. “Oh, I'm not giving up. If I'm meant to find them, I will.” She sighed, dismissing the burning ache of regret in her chest. “But I'll have to do it without compromising your principles.”

Driven by her selfish quest, she had already disappointed him once and very badly. She was fortunate that he had given her a handful of second chances—the position at camp, the job at Children's Connection, and now all this. Nothing would ever make her hurt him again, not if she could help it.

“I swear to you that my offer wasn't some kind of sick test, Emma. I just never expected you to refuse.”

“Thank you,” she repeated. “Now where's my present?”

He didn't answer. “You love me, too,” he said instead.

“Yes, I do love you,” she confessed.

He fumbled into the pocket of his slacks. “I know it hasn't been very long,” he said, clearing his throat nervously.

Emma's eyes nearly fell out of her head when she saw the small velvet box in his hand.
Calm yourself,
she ordered silently. It was probably a birthstone ring.

While she continued to stare, he slid off the couch onto his knee and took her hand. His hand, she noticed through the pink mist of joy that threatened to envelop her brain, was trembling.

“People who know me will probably tell you that I haven't done anything impulsive since I was ten and I traded my Smith Miller log truck for a giant chocolate bar.” His blue eyes seemed to burn with intensity. “They're probably right. When you meet the one special woman you've been searching for, you just know. It's time to take that leap.”

She opened her mouth and closed it a couple of times without emitting any sound. Realizing she must look like a fish, she pressed her lips together.

“How can you be so sure?” she breathed. Same reason she was sure, she realized. It came from the heart, not the head.

He tapped his chest with the fingers of his free hand, as though he'd read her mind. “It spoke. I listened.”

“Oh, my,” she murmured. “My mom is just going to adore you.”

Suddenly her smile wavered. “You'll want a family.” Regret, bitter and vile, poured over her, pulled her back from him. “You know I have problems in that particular area.”

“I want that family with you.” He crushed her fingers in his. “I'll tell you right now that whatever way works for you, works for me. Mother Nature, in vitro, some other procedure, adoption, an alien baby we find under a cabbage leaf.” He shrugged. “It makes no difference to me as long as you're the mom and I'm the dad.”

“I love you, Morgan,” she choked. This man, she knew, wouldn't walk away if the going got rough. He'd stick.

“I love you, too.” One-handed, he popped the ring box open to reveal a flash of fire, an oval-cut diamond set between two smaller stones on a gold band. “If you don't like this—”

Before he could finish, she pressed her fingers to his lips, shushing him.

“That's the first dumb thing you've said since you got here.”

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

A surge of happiness threatened to keep her from
speaking, so she bobbed her head energetically and stuck out her hand.

“Yes,” she finally managed to whisper as Morgan slid the beautiful ring onto her finger. Cupping her face in his big tanned hands, he followed it up with a kiss.