Romance In Paradise: Flirting with the Forbidden / Hot Island Nights / From Fling to Forever

Noah’s immense self-control scared her—she admitted it. He’d been as swept away by their kiss last night as she had and yet he’d managed to pull back, to step away. She thought that she could be naked and he could be inside her, a fraction off orgasm, and if he decided to jam on the brakes he would. Oh, Morgan knew that he was self-motivated and determined, and that he kept his own counsel—that his natural way of interacting with people was to be brief and succinct, focusing on practicality above emotion—but even so sometimes she thought that there was another Noah trying to escape. A Noah who was a little more relaxed, a little impulsive—someone who was desperate to have a good time—but every time that Noah stepped over the line he got slapped back into his cage.

It was almost as if Noah was scared to let himself feel...

What had happened to him that had made him wary of...of...himself, really?

Morgan stared at his broad back as she walked over to him. She playfully nudged his shoulder with hers. ‘I’m sorry about the confusion with the address earlier. I got the numbers mixed up.’

‘Mmm...as I said, it happens.’

Morgan folded her arms across her raspberry-coloured poncho dress. It was a favourite of hers, with a one-shoulder neckline with a batwing sleeve. The dress fell to mid-thigh and she wore it with nude spiked heels and long, dangly earrings made from garnets.

‘Listen, I need to say something. I’m sorry...about that kiss last night.’ Noah held his hands in the pockets of his jeans and straightened his arms. ‘I shouldn’t have...’

‘Here we go again... Noah, for goodness’ sake, we are adults! We shared a kiss, and if you didn’t have the control of a Tibetan monk we would’ve done much more.’

Noah glanced around as her voice lifted in frustration. ‘Inside voice, dammit!’

‘What is the problem? And don’t give me that garbage about not being professional and the promise you made to my brother.’

‘Why don’t you talk louder? I don’t think the people at the far end of the gallery heard you,’ Noah muttered as he gripped her arm and pulled her closer to the painting. ‘And I did make a promise to your brother...’

Morgan turned her back to the room and looked at the painting. ‘The old promise-to-my-brother excuse.’ Morgan lifted up her arms and then fisted her hands. ‘You know what...? Forget it! I’ve never chased after a man in my life and I am not starting with you!’

Noah muttered an expletive and raked his hand through his hair. ‘Morgan...no, don’t walk away.’ He waited a beat before talking again. ‘I’ve worked really hard to establish my business and, no matter how stupid you think it is, people will look to see how I conduct myself with you and they will judge that. I need to be seen to be professional and competent.’

Anyone would think she was asking him to do her in Central Park as Saturday afternoon entertainment. She saw him fiddle with his collar... He did that, she realised with a flash of insight, when he was feeling uncomfortable or when he was hedging. Or flat-out lying.

‘That might be part of it but it’s not the whole truth. The important truth.’ Morgan looked him in the eye. When his eyes slid right she knew she had him and he knew that she had him. So he did what all men did when they were caught out: he changed the subject.

‘Okay, say we have this hot fling. And afterwards, Duchess, what then?’

Morgan frowned and lowered the glass she’d raised to her lips. ‘What do you mean?’

‘We scratch this itch and then what happens? What are you expecting?’

Morgan took a sip of wine and considered his question. What did she expect? What could she expect?

What could she give?

After a moment’s thought she came to the only logical, practical conclusion she could. ‘I don’t expect anything, Noah. You don’t seem to be the type who needs or, frankly, wants a relationship, so if we did find ourselves in bed I’d expect nothing, because I know that you have nothing to give me.’

Besides, I’m too scared to take the chance of loving someone, being found unworthy, getting my teeth kicked in.

‘You make me sound like a robot,’ Noah muttered.

Morgan suspected that if he opened those cage doors he’d be anything but robotic—he’d be fearless and passionate and unstoppable. But right now he did have elements of the mechanical about him. Except when he was kissing her...

Morgan reached out and tapped his chest with one French manicured finger. ‘You need to have some fun, Fraser. Lighten up.’ Maybe they both did. ‘The world won’t fall on your head, you know.’

‘You sound just like Chris. And my brothers.’

Whoa...stop the presses! Noah Fraser had volunteered some personal information! ‘You have brothers?’

‘Well, despite what you think, I wasn’t cloned in a Petri dish,’ Noah said, his tone grumpy.

‘Younger? Older? Where are they? What do they do? Are they married?’

‘Jeez, mention one little thing and I get a million questions.’ Noah stopped a waiter, asked for a mineral water and rolled his eyes at her obviously curious face. ‘Two much younger brothers, twenty-three and twenty-one. A sous chef at a London Michelin-starred restaurant and a freelance photographer who sells to several national newspapers. Neither are married and they both live in London. Satisfied?’

‘Not nearly. Are they also buttoned-down, controlled and restrained?’

Noah took his mineral water from the tray presented to him. He looked past her shoulder to a place that was somewhere in the past. ‘No, I stood as a shield so that they didn’t turn out like me.’

And what on earth did he mean by that? Morgan opened her mouth to ask but he gestured to the painting and forced a small smile onto his face. ‘It looks like a multiple to me.’

It took Morgan a minute to catch up, and when she did she cocked her head. ‘Maybe it was a really good piece of chocolate.’

‘Dream on,’ Noah scoffed, before he fell serious. ‘I have to admit I love this painting. I’d buy it in a heartbeat if I had enough cash floating around.’

Morgan leaned forward and peered at the tiny, tiny price in the corner of the tag. Holy bats...that was a lot of money—even for her. Morgan stepped back and looked at the painting again...she agreed with Noah. It was a sensational piece of art: fluid, sexy, happy. She could see it on the wall above her bed...

Sophie had had a really fine time, Morgan thought on a smile. But maybe it was time to give her a bit of privacy and get her out of the gallery.

‘Let’s go home,’ Morgan said impulsively.

Noah looked at her, surprised. ‘It’s not even eight-thirty yet. And we were going to that cocktail party at the Hyatt.’

‘I just want to go home, have a long bath and an early night. I want to drop the cloak. I need to be me tonight.’

‘Sorry?’

Morgan waved his questions away. ‘Ignore me. So, what do you think?’

‘Hell, no, I want to stick around and make small talk with people I don’t know.’

Morgan laughed at his sarcasm, handed her glass over to a passing waiter and inclined her head towards Johnno. ‘I just need a quick word with the artist.’

‘I’ll be waiting at the door. Make it quick, Duchess.’

EIGHT (#uf6c227df-31e3-5de5-a4f8-0bf30a950bc2)

Back in Morgan’s apartment, Noah glanced to the other side of the couch and smiled when he saw that Morgan had shuffled down, her head on a cushion, eyes closed and her sock-covered feet touching his thigh. Noah placed his beer on the side table and glanced at his watch; it was just past nine-thirty.

Standing up, he walked over to her and gently removed the earphones she’d plugged into her ears earlier. Her hand still loosely clutched her iPad and he pulled that away too. She liked listening to music while she read, she’d told him earlier, and wasn’t that keen on TV, so he was welcome to watch what he liked.

Noah heard sound coming from the earphones and lifted one bud up to his ear. Instead of music, a low, melodious voice filled his ear. Frowning, he tapped the tablet and quickly realised that Morgan was listening to an audiobook, Ken Follet’s Pillars of the Earth—a book he’d read years ago and thoroughly loved.

Noah had barely any time to react as Morgan launched up and tried to whip the tablet from his grasp. Her fingers skimmed the tablet as he moved it out of her reach.