"Cal?"
Did she feel it, too? Something shifting? "Yeah?"
"I think I want to add another level for the film room."
He blinked. "Huh?"
She never changed her posture, just floated past him like a goddess. "I know Brady said a smaller balcony is fine, but the Rosenthals will probably screen their movie and will want more room. If we do a double-tier balcony, it will look better."
Cal tried desperately to get his mind on business. "Brady is right: it will throw off the aesthetics. What about two smaller side balconies, almost like luxury boxes? They may like that."
"Yes. I could do it in red velvet like the old theaters. Set up an old-fashioned popcorn maker and candy machine. We can make it work?"
"Yeah, I'll make it work." She threw him off balance. Was he the only one with a raging desire to steal a kiss while they skinny-dipped in the moonlight? "You surprised me."
Morgan didn't move, just bobbed gently in the water. "So did you."
"How?"
"You managed a decent cannonball."
He laughed. She was so different from any woman he'd ever met, consistently throwing him off guard. "I like a woman who takes a dare."
"Bet you do. Were you able to trick your brothers into doing ridiculous things by double-daring them?"
"The triple dog dare usually did its trick. But Dalton was always the one to fall for it. Tristan got me back by pretending to be above my crap, then he'd wait for his time and cut me off at the knees. He's the more ruthless one."
"And Dalton is the creative genius?"
"Yep, takes after his grandfather. Called him the Wood Whisperer."
"And you? What's your title in this crew?"
He swam and watched her and thought. Families were built on expectations and profiling because it was easier. Even the order of birth told a lot about a person. Sure, he was the oldest and the one to shoulder the most responsibility. He was the leader.
Or was he? Was it just easier to do what he wanted without question or apology? Had he ever truly wanted to compromise and change Pierce Brothers into what his brothers wanted? Or deep inside, did he agree with his father and just didn't want to admit it?
"The grumpy one."
Her giggle charmed him. Cal swam closer. Her nipples were hard and strained against the damp lace in an effort to escape. The wet camisole outlined every flow and curve of her body, making him burn. He tried to concentrate on their conversation. "What about you? If you had to place a tag on yourself, what would it be?"
It was a while before she answered. Her voice was a whisper of sound. "A fighter."
Cal didn't have time for questions. She flipped over and swam to the edge, easily hitting the deck with both feet and walking back to her neat pile of clothes. He watched her get dressed from a distance and finally joined her on land. He quickly donned his clothes and they stood facing each other.
"Thanks for the swim," she said politely. "We'd better get back." She tucked her wet hair behind her ears. Her makeup was smudged. The scent of lemon and fresh daisies rose to his nostrils. Her skin looked dewy and soft. A roaring began in his head and moved lower, wiping out his rational thoughts. He didn't know what was going on. He didn't know why, but if he didn't kiss Morgan Raines tonight, he might regret it for the rest of his life.
"You're welcome. I didn't like you at first."
A smile touched her lips. She tugged at the hem of her shirt. "That's okay. I didn't like you, either." Morgan paused. "I'm still waiting to make up my mind."
He closed the distance between them. Was that his heart beating? Stupid. Of course not. He was a grown man, and he didn't get those feelings anymore. She tilted her head back, and he saw the slight tremble of her lips as she gazed back at him, refusing to look away.
"I like you now."
She cleared her throat. The pulse at the base of her neck and the dilation of her pupils gave her away. She felt it, too. His nostrils flared like a predator's on the hunt, but he moved slow, bending his head so his mouth was inches from hers, so he could feel the warm rush of her breath against him. So she had plenty of time to pull away and cry foul. Still, she rallied.
She spoke his name on a ragged whisper. "What are you doing, Cal?"
"I'm sorry."
She shuddered. His hands clasped her shoulders, and he breathed her in.
"For misjudging me? Calling me a coward? Or not liking me at first?"
He locked his gaze with hers to show her his intention. Paused. "For this."
Cal covered his mouth with hers.
The moment her lips yielded under his, Caleb realized Morgan Raines was more dangerous than he'd ever imagined.
She tasted like all the things he loved in his past-sugar cookies and bourbon-infused chocolate. Freshly squeezed orange juice and key lime pie. Deliciously sweet and tart and tasty. Everything he craved and couldn't get enough of, wrapped up in this one gorgeous female.
The kiss was slow and deep and oh so thorough. Cal kept his hands firmly on her shoulders, not trusting himself to be cool. Who would've thought Morgan Raines would inspire violent lust instead of lukewarm interest? His body shook with the effort to control his instincts. Instead, he teased her, gathering her taste with his tongue and capturing the sexy little moan that spilled from her throat. It was a kiss that introduced, welcomed, lingered. It was the hottest kiss he'd ever shared with a woman, and he didn't know what he was going to do about it.
Their lips slid apart, breaking contact. Her flavor danced on his tongue. They stared at each other, and for a brief moment, both acknowledged the shock of connection. Would she try to analyze the situation? Ask for more? Run away? Slap him? Cal waited, not really sure what he even wanted her to do. The crickets seemed deafening in the shattering silence.
"I think I want to change the molding in the formal dining room. We need more of a wow factor."
WTF?
She reached down and scooped up her purse. "I know we said crown, but there's an artist who creates gorgeous stenciled molding with a bigger base. It's doable. Right?"
Cal fought the strange rise of emotions battling within, then finally surrendered.
A deep laugh rose from his chest and burst out. "Yeah. It's doable."
Morgan smiled. "Good. Let's go."
She led the way out of the woods and back to civilized society, but Cal wondered if they'd crossed an invisible line that would change everything.
chapter seven
Hi, Mama."
"Hey, baby. How are you?"
Morgan propped herself up against the overstuffed pewter pillows and relaxed. Her laptop was perched on her lap; a glass of white wine rested on the beautifully carved chest beside her. Living in a hotel on a consistent basis may not be every woman's dream, but the ornate surroundings of the penthouse, gourmet room service, spa, fitness room, superb cleaning crew, and twenty-four-hour dedicated concierge to her pleasure was nothing to complain about.
Actually, it was pretty darn sweet.
Her mother's face filled the screen and gave instant comfort. Her blond hair was loose today and framed her face in perfectly straight strands, the tips curling just under. Her features were as familiar as her own, since staring at her mama was like looking in a mirror. Crystal-blue eyes filled with warmth. Sharp chin, high cheekbones, and a nose that bespoke blue blood. Her daddy always said Ashley Raines could be the spokesperson for Olay or any big beauty company, since she never seemed to age and nothing was fake. An ache to feel her arms around her settled in deep. Morgan could almost smell the sweet scent of lavender rising from her skin.
"I'm good. The project is moving at a decent pace. I've got a virtual meeting with the Rosenthals later this week to go over swatches and paint samples. Pierce Brothers is solid, and I think we'll have no problem making deadline."
"How do you like the town? Harrington, right?" Her mama's Southern drawl was heaven to her ears. She'd forgotten how long she'd been working in the Northeast. Goodness, soon she might even pick up a Yankee accent.
"Yes. I like it. It's built around a harbor, with lots of fresh seafood restaurants and quaint shops. I found a gorgeous watercolor you and Daddy may like. I'll have it shipped."
Her mama's smile lit up the screen. "You spoil me, baby. I wish you could fly home for a weekend. We miss you."
"Miss you, too, but I can't see myself taking any time until we deliver in the fall. I'm working around the clock. I haven't even been able to hit the spa yet."
A frown marred her delicate brow. "Morgan, you can't overwork yourself. Are you eating properly? Sleeping? You know what they say about stress and how it affects the body. Have you found a local doctor yet?"
Morgan sighed. She wished her mama's concerned tone was the reaction of a normal overprotective parent. Instead, memories of the past rushed between them, and her stomach twisted into a knot. No matter how many years went by and how many tests came back negative, her parents would never get over the scare. Neither would Morgan.