Page 28 of Secret Bet

Chapter8

Peter satin his office and stared at a balance sheet. His fingers ran through his hair as he considered a request from a South American house for more money. The balance sheets read that this house was bought twenty-five years ago. The same year his mother left him. Hehad a tingle in his chest that this unknown expense was relevant, but his gut feeling made nosense.

He tapped his hands on his desk and ignored how his gut twisted. He had never seen any Morgan Incorporated figures from this part of that country. He swallowed and wrote an email.Please send the merchandise that was held in this place to my office in Miamiimmediately.

Whatever hisfather had there was so secure that it was not written on the books anywhere. He pressed his lips together and decided that the mystery would not affect his future plans for the company. Peter tugged at his shirtcollar.

Then, as he hit send, his secretary's voice rang in the air, "Mr. Morgan is not to bedisturbed."

A disgruntled employee must be outside. Peter fixed his tie ashe stood. He closed his laptop. He didn't remember firing anyone, but one of his managers might have. He took a sip of water as he strode outthedoor.

His eyes widened as he stared at Belle in a pencil black skirt that clung to unknown hips in a shape most womenpaidfor.

His lips parted. "Belle."

She nodded her head as she had her arms crossed. "Peter."

He strokedhis chin as he stared at her natural form. She stood with her legs parted and looked sure of herself. His muscles tightened. He had to have her. "Youlooknice."

Her voice hitched. "I need to speaktoyou."

He opened his office door wide and smiled. She reminded him of a scared animal that was on the attack at the moment, which was funny. She seemed so hard the first moment he hadlaid eyes on her. "Of course. Pleasecomein."

She held her arms firm at her stomach as she passed first his secretary and then him without brushing against him. "Is this youroffice?"

He set his jaw as she gazed out the high-rise window. Her presence alone was a challenge that he'd have to figure out. He spoke to her back as he said, "Yes. This is my main office inMiami."

The door clinked from the secretary's exit. Then she spun on her heels, and her arms flapped to her side. "The suite, the clothes, it's all too muchforme."

“No need to be shocked. All the wedding guests are at theBiltmore."

"Not in a penthouse. Peter, it's entirelytoomuch."

"It's not. You're my date tonight. I need to ensureyou'resafe."

"Safety doesn't includePrada."

"Itactuallydoes."

"I was in the Marines. I've led missions. I can take care ofmyself."

"Ibelieveyou."

"Can we call off sitting together at the wedding and go back to thefriendsplan?"

"I'd prefer not to." A fluttery feeling entered his stomach as he stoodnearher.

"'Cause if we were friends, it would be easier to tellyouno."

"Whybother?" He leaned against his desk. "Belle, you know my life will be in the newspapers no matter what. Don't let trinketsstopus."

"Trinkets?Us?"

She swayed on her feet. He jumped to help her sit. She took his arm, but didn't stareathim.

"I don't know if I can. I've never stayed in a penthouse. I'm used tocamping."

"Enjoy the moment then. Belle, I expect the bestis provided for me, and I called the hotel. It's my responsibility. Enjoy the room. It's truly not abigdeal."

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