By Appointment Only (18 page)

Now he jingled his car keys in one hand, his eyes watchful. “I met a couple of buddies at the bar for drinks and appetizers. It’s Julio’s birthday.”

She pressed her knees together beneath the table to keep them from shaking. “That’s nice.”

Morgan bumped her shoulder. “Scoot over. And introduce me.” The implacable expression on his face spoke volumes. He wouldn’t be dissuaded. Not tonight.

When he was settled in the booth beside her with his big warm body crowding her personal space, he smiled blandly. “Hannah?”

The other two remained silent, clearly fascinated by the unspoken tension between Hannah and Morgan. She lifted her chin. What the hell . . . it was his funeral.

She waved a hand at the two older adults. “These are my parents, Vivian and Raymond. And this is my fiancé, Morgan.” She could see the questions in his eyes. She’d told him she didn’t know her father. She’d told him she was spending the weekend with Elda. Morgan must be thinking the worst.

He extended a hand to Raymond. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And you, too, Vivian.” Normally that phrase might be followed by
Hannah has told me so much about you,
but in this case, nothing could be further from the truth.

The men shook hands briefly, and Vivian, surprisingly reticent for once, murmured polite inanities. Finally, an awkward silence fell.

Hannah stirred restlessly. “Actually, Morgan, I was about to head home. I had a big lunch, and really I was just here to touch base with Vivian and Raymond. If you’ll excuse me, I’d better get going.”

Vivian’s face fell. “But we were having such a nice time.” She gave Morgan a beseeching smile. “Can’t you stay and eat with us? I know Hannah would enjoy it more with you here. I want her to have a chance to talk with Raymond. After all, today’s the first time they’ve ever laid eyes on each other, and they have a lot of catching up to do.”

Morgan tensed. Hannah felt it. He spared a brief incredulous glance in her direction before he pinned Vivian with a steady gaze. “And whose idea was this?”

Vivian managed to flutter, even seated. “Well,” she said, shredding her paper napkin in tiny pieces. “I heard that Hannah got engaged, and I thought about how sad it was for a girl not to have a father to walk her down the aisle, so I sort of tracked Raymond down and convinced him to come here with me.”

Hannah frowned. “So you didn’t just bump into him by accident?”

Vivian’s expression was vague. “I suppose not. But still . . . he’s here. You’re here.”

Hannah’s doubts returned. Was this scrawny man really her father or some bottom-feeder Vivian had convinced to help her with a scam? Her stomach churned and she felt the nausea return.

Morgan put an arm around her shoulder, drawing her close. He must have sensed how close she was to breaking down, because he took control of the situation. “It was nice to meet you both, but Hannah and I haven’t set a date. And we might end up with a very small wedding. It’s up to her. In the meantime, we’ve both had a long, hard week, so I think we’ll say our goodbyes.”

He stood up, and Hannah followed him, grateful to have his strength and determination to extricate her from an impossible situation. She glanced from her mother to Raymond and gave them a brief, impersonal nod. A smile was beyond her. “I appreciate the dinner invitation. But Morgan is right. We have to go. Goodbye.”

Outside, she leaned against Morgan’s car and closed her eyes. Her legs were weak, and she felt queasy and shaken. Why had she gone to meet her mother? After all the other painful encounters. Why?

It startled her when Morgan asked the same question out loud. She looked at him, her eyes bleak. “Because a kid never gives up wanting to know her father.”

He absorbed her answer, his dark glasses shielding most of his expression. Instead of responding, he ushered her into the front seat of his Yukon. “I’m getting tired of going everywhere in two cars,” he muttered.

When he took his seat, he glanced at her. “Where to now?”

She shrugged. “I don’t want to go home. I feel like walking. How about SeaWorld?” It was late in the day, and the crowds would have dissipated by now. Morgan’s aunt worked there and often gave them one-day passes. Morgan kept them in his glove box.

He started the engine. “Whatever you want.”

The theme park was full but not unpleasantly crowded. Hannah and Morgan strolled for a half hour, not speaking. They paused to look at Shamu. They watched the penguins. They admired the flamingos in the late-evening light.

Finally, Morgan tugged her to a stop. “I’m starving. Let’s go to that restaurant near the shark tank.”

She followed him numbly. It was one of their favorite places. The host seated them at a booth facing the big wall of glass. Sea creatures of every ilk glided past in a never-ending, entertaining show.

Hannah watched the colorful fish blindly, barely registering the fact that Morgan was ordering for both of them.

When the waitress left, he leaned back in his seat. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She winced. “I didn’t lie to you. I spent the morning and early afternoon with Elda. When I got home, there was a message on my answering machine from Vivian. She was threatening to show up at my place. I figured that meeting them in a public venue was the lesser of two evils.”

“And this is really the first time you’ve met your father?”

“I doubt that man is any relation at all to me. Vivian is always looking for a way to squeeze a few more dollars out of my checking account. I’m sure she thought a tearful reunion would be a good investment.” She heard the bitterness in her own voice and wanted to snatch the words back. Morgan didn’t need to be dragged into the middle of her sordid family dramas. He sure as heck was used to something far less unsavory.

His eyes were hooded. He stared at the room-size tank, but she had a feeling he wasn’t seeing it. He rubbed his jaw. “I have an idea,” he said quietly. “I’ve already contacted a private investigator to get information about Arnie. Why don’t I ask the guy to check out Raymond as well? It should be easy enough to find out if he’s the real thing.”

She picked up a roll and cut it open. Anything to keep from looking at Morgan. She didn’t want to see pity in his eyes. Or, God forbid, distaste. “He said he’s the guy on my birth certificate. But Vivian might have lied to him. Who knows.”

“There’s always DNA.” His words were quiet, without inflection.

It was the only way she would ever know for sure. Vivian had twisted reality so many times in her life, it was doubtful if Hannah or anyone else could actually glean a kernel of truth from anything she said.

Hannah reached for Morgan’s hand. This might be where he decided to cut her loose. But he deserved to know the woman with whom he was contemplating marriage. “The God’s honest truth is . . . I don’t care one away or another. I’d prefer not to have either one of them in my life. Perhaps that sounds callous or even cold, but it’s how I feel.”

Morgan didn’t speak right away,

She hurried to fill the silence. “I’m sure you think I’ll change my mind, but believe me . . . I’ve had enough misery over the years to know that I’m happier all around when I stay away from her.”

“I wasn’t going to criticize, Hannah,” he said quietly. “I’m just sorry she hurt you so much.”

She tried to force a smile, but it wouldn’t come. “It was a long time ago. I’m over it.”

He shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, honey. What she did still hurts you . . . every day. And I’m not sure it will ever go away.”

Morgan watched her face. It hurt
him
to see her so emotionally devastated. His own childhood had been close to idyllic, so it was difficult to imagine what Vivian’s fruitcake behavior had done to her young daughter.

And as for the dad—if that really was him—Morgan would like to cram the man’s teeth down his throat. What kind of jerk would turn his back on his own daughter?

But this wasn’t about Morgan’s feelings. He picked up a forkful of risotto and baby shrimp and held it to her lips. “Eat this. You’ve had a hard day.”

She opened her mouth obediently, and as her lips closed over the tines of the fork, he felt a little sexual buzz. Great. Hannah needed Mr. Sensitivity, and instead Mr. Lecherous Lust showed up.

By the time he finished playfully feeding her dinner, he was seriously primed for action. Hannah seemed to have relaxed. There was color back in her face, and she actually laughed at his stupid jokes. He kept the conversation teasing and casual, anything to make her forget her dysfunctional family.

By the time they walked back out to his car, the lot was beginning to empty. The park would close in forty-five minutes. Morgan stopped her when they reached his big vehicle. He looked at the tinted rear windows.

“How about we get in the backseat and make out?”

She looked up at him, her wide-eyed gaze shocked but interested. “Really?”

He grinned. “It’s been a hell of a day. I thought maybe necking like teenagers would be a great way to unwind.”

For the first time, he saw her smile reach her eyes . . . a real, honest-to-God flash of humor and enjoyment. “I could be persuaded.”

He unlocked the back door and helped her in, then scooted in beside her. He leaned over into the front seat and turned on the ignition and the air so they wouldn’t suffocate. Hannah was grinning now, and he breathed an inward sigh of relief.

She touched his knee. “Exactly how far are we going to go? First base? Second base?”

He slid a hand beneath her hair and caressed her neck. “You tell me.”

He pulled her close and settled his mouth over hers. Something about this adolescent scenario was making him hot. She nipped his tongue. He groaned, feeling the tightness in his groin. He cupped her breast, and then, when that wasn’t enough, trespassed beneath her blouse until he found bare skin.

They moaned in unison. He teased her nipple and at the same time slid his palm up her bare, smooth thigh and under her small denim skirt. Her panties were no barrier at all. He found her center, moist and heated, and probed gently with a steady finger.

Hannah gasped and pulled him closer. She said something, but the words were muffled in his neck.

He pulled back. “What?”

She stroked his length through his slacks. “I love you, Morgan.”

She’d said it once or twice before, but not often. The soft sincerity in her words caught his heart and squeezed it. He swallowed hard. “I love you, too.” It wasn’t enough. He knew it. She deserved to hear sonnets, symphonies, anything to convince her that his feelings were neither temporary nor superficial.

He kissed her roughly, trying to show her without words how he felt. Suddenly his necking-in-the-backseat idea seemed foolish in the extreme. He’d underestimated how much he’d want to fuck her.

His entire body was one big ache. And they risked being caught at any moment.

Another ravenous kiss. Her hands on his zipper. Cool air brushed his erection mere seconds before her hot mouth engulfed him. His fists tangled in her hair. He struggled to breathe.

He glanced wildly out the front windshield. People milled around, but none were actually near the vehicle. It was damned hard to be a problem solver when the woman you loved had your dick in a mind-blowing suction with her talented mouth.

“Hannah.” He cleared the gravel from his voice and tried again. “Hannah. Get all the way in the back.”

She looked up at him like he was nuts.

He was desperate. “I’m serious. Climb over.”

The back of the Yukon was roomy, but not really big enough for what he had in mind. But hell, a man had to make sacrifices.

He waited until she tumbled over the seat and then followed. He whacked his head on the roof and caught his foot in the net pocket on the back of the driver’s seat. At last, he managed to fold his long frame down beside her.

She was laughing at him, her face alight with pleasure. “Any suggestions on how to execute Act Two?”

He unbuttoned her blouse and shoved up her bra. His mouth latched on to a nipple and sucked hard. Hannah whimpered and writhed against him in the cramped space. God, this had to be one of his stupider ideas. But if he didn’t fuck her soon, his dick would self-combust.

He tugged her skirt to her waist and ripped the side of her panties. “Spread your knees.” He freed his cock and moved on top of her.

Hannah got with the program and guided him with her hand. It took a couple of tries and some Twister-type maneuvers, but suddenly he was in. Her vagina clasped him tightly as he stroked deeply.

He had a cramp in his right leg and the zipper on his pants was scraping his balls.

Hannah winced when her head banged against the side of the car.

The physical discomforts barely registered, at least for him. He felt his climax roaring upward like a rocket from Canaveral. He found her clit and stroked it. He kissed her wildly as the smell of sex and sweat filled the small space. He felt her hands cup his ass, and his back jerked and spasmed as he rammed her with piston strokes.

In some corner of his brain he took note of her rough cry as she came, but even that knowledge was lost to him when agonizing pleasure gripped the base of his spine and his nuts and exploded in a sharp, blinding rush of release.

Hannah’s butt was numb. And carpet-burned. Morgan lay, a dead weight, on top of her. She tried to breathe. It seemed important. “Okay, big guy. Playtime’s over.” When he didn’t acknowledge her hint, she shoved at his shoulders. “I need air, Webber. Now.”

With a disgruntled murmur, he rolled to his side. She crouched on her knees and peered over the backseat. Through the front windshield, she could see one or two cars dotting the lot, but most everyone was gone.

In the far distance, a security car started making its rounds. “Morgan.” She nudged him with her knee. “Seriously, Morgan. Get up. Now.”