Chapter 6
Bart noticed how Rebecca swayed on her feet beside him. From the briefest touch of her hand, his body was tense and needy with a longing that he hadn’t really felt since he'd been a teenager.
Women had been in his bed, but nothing like this. Not in a long time. He had goosebumps as he led her away from the dance floor without anyone noticing.
The music still played and the champagne flowed in a party that reminded him of the Great Gatsby--all that was missing was the light in the distance.
She gently squeezed his hand and he said, “This way.”
The mansion was farther behind them. His father’s pride and joy and headquarters for the House of Morgan’s legitimate family, and now Peter's, but also different than expected as he crossed the threshold, thanks to Peter's welcome.
Part of Bart expected to be tossed out for daring to step inside.
As they reached the gangway, he motioned for her to go on first. She pressed her hand to her heart and asked, “What’s this?”
“It’s my yacht.” He followed behind her, eyeing the silhouette of her backside in the fitted hot pink dress.
Most women he met were in shape and beautiful. Rebecca was the same, but her arms and body seemed strong, not from a gym but from something else.
Probably work which meant whatever she did required her to be on her feet. She was graceful, so she was probably a waitress or something like that.
She was someone he’d never usually meet, and maybe that would turn out to be a mistake. As she stepped onto the ship, she pressed her lips together and looked around. He joined her on the deck and she asked, “Did you buy this before we met?”
Their brief encounter at the yacht club had replayed in his mind a dozen times as he'd wondered why he hadn’t noticed her until after she'd chased him down. Had he done anything that signaled his possible interest in her?
He couldn’t remember, but he walked her to the back of the yacht where he had a private table for them set up that overlooked the party from the water. “I finalized the deal afterward,caro.”
She stood with her forearms on the rail and watched the party, but then her gaze went to the name half-painted below the railing and covered her lips. She turned around and her hands fell to her sides. “It’s lovely. You’re naming it after me?”
The painting was almost done--he would commission the yacht tomorrow as was family tradition. “I was looking at it when we met. And you will always be unforgettable, Rebecca.”
She pulled him closer, their hands clasped. “That’s sweet, Bart.”
By this time, he normally would have made comments directed at her clothes and taking them off. Seduction was a game, but Rebecca seemed like she didn’t have her lines ready. So he folded his hands over the rails, watched the party and pressed his shoulder against hers. “I’m not that. I’m going to be sailing this back to Rome once my business ends here.”
She turned toward him like she was upset at the news. “You have a lot of family here.”
His office and life were there. Miami struck him as both cold and hot. There was a lack of sophistication in every encounter, but there was also something else, something unique. Rebecca stirred whatever it was he didn’t understand. Bart stepped back and offered her more champagne. “Lorenzo, Gio, and Anthony are the only ones I ever really knew as family. It’s strange to be here and see my father’s face in strangers.”
She took the flute and met his gaze with an emotion he didn’t recognize. “I don’t quite understand, but I can empathize.”
His lips tingled for another kiss, but he sipped his champagne instead. “Rebecca, I don’t always know how to act with you.”
Her hand went on her hip like she was offended. “What do you mean?”
Perhaps he needed to cool his thinking. He motioned toward the lights of the party and the laughter that came with alcohol as he said, “With Nadia, it was easy. Neither of us had expectations. We both knew anything that happened was temporary and didn’t matter to the other.”
“That doesn’t sound very…meaningful.” She dropped her hand and brushed against his back. “Bart, just be yourself.”
If he was his normal self, he would not be worried about conversation. His lips would be crushing hers and she’d be below deck, in his bed. The visual was clear. He drank his champagne though this was probably the first one of the three they'd had that he’d tasted. “It’s hard when I haven't met many honest women like you.”
She clutched her glass and stared at him like she saw right through him. “So you attractdishonestwomen?”
Maybe he could have one more kiss from Rebecca. She was tempting. He put the still-full glass down on a nearby table and set hers beside it. “No. That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?”
“I tend to attract… women who don’t want anything and don’t expect much from me in return.” Bart placed his arms around her sides, leaning on the bow and towering over her, without touching her. “I was looking for the words to seduce you, Rebecca.”
