Czytaj książkę: «When Megan Smiles»
At Megan’s touch, feelings exploded inside Rafe, feelings he’d thought were dead and gone
He felt Megan’s breasts against his side, her hand touching his, her breath fanning his skin and her scent filling him. Shaken and trying to recover, he moved to disentangle himself.
Rafe wanted her in the most basic way. She was a total stranger, a woman who was opinionated and infuriating…and incredibly desirable. A woman who made his whole body ache with need, whose presence warmed his soul.
But being with Megan, no matter how good it would feel, was wrong. He needed to stop thinking of her as anything more than someone he’d just caught rifling through her boss’s desk. That was his job. But as she stood and increased some of the space between them, he knew he’d never stop thinking about her. It was impossible.
As impossible as wanting a woman like her…
Dear Reader,
When Megan Smiles is the next story in my JUST FOR KIDS series, and comes with a special heroine. Megan Gallagher has everything in her life in place: a perfect, fast-track career and an equally perfect fiancé. But what she hasn’t counted on is meeting a security guard named Rafe, and realizing that there can be totally different versions of a “perfect” life.
Rafe Dagget is a widower with twins who has decided he’s loved once and completely. And he continues to believe that until he meets Megan and sees her smile. Both Megan and Rafe are in for big surprises in this story—life-changing surprises. And there’s a surprise for you, too, at the end of the book, which I hope proves it’s never too late to find that one special person in this life, and to truly fall in love…again.
When Megan Smiles
Mary Anne Wilson
MILLS & BOON
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For Beulah Wilson
A great mother-in-law and an even better friend.
Thanks for being part of my life.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Prologue
Fort Worth, Texas
Rafe Dagget looked at the “perfect” woman across the table from him at one of the best and most intimate restaurants in the city. He wasn’t so sure she was perfect, or even close. But Dave Lang, his friend who had talked him into this blind date, had been adamant.
“She’s pretty, smart, and she loves kids. She’s perfect, Rafe, just perfect.”
Rafe had tried to get out of the date, but Dave hadn’t given him a chance. “We all loved Gabriella, you know that, and there won’t be another woman like her, Rafe.” Dave’s slightly florid face had gone from intently concerned to being touched by a sad but knowing smile. “But, buddy, it’s time. It’s been two years. You need to get out and meet people. You have to move on with your life, for your sake and the sake of the twins.”
Rafe watched the woman talking to him, and part of him reluctantly agreed with Dave’s assessment. His blind date was pretty, in a girlish sort of way, with an upturned nose, dark eyes, full lips and red hair cut into a stylish feathery cap. But perfect? He doubted that. As much as he doubted Dave’s pronouncement that it was “time to move on.” Why did everyone believe that two years was the magic amount of time to get over a death that left rubble behind and a gaping hole in a life?
“I always thought four children would be perfect,” his blind date was saying earnestly, leaning toward him across the table, making intent eye contact with him. “Just perfect.”
Rafe reached for his wineglass, breaking the contact when he realized how freely people tossed around the word perfect. On top of that, he couldn’t remember the woman’s name. Felicia, Fanny? He swallowed a good half of the smooth merlot before he put the goblet back down on the white linen cloth.
“Two boys, two girls,” she rattled. “Two years apart.”
“Hmm,” he murmured, because he was thinking that the restaurant, with its dim lights and soft mood music, suddenly seemed claustrophobic. He’d been here before, in another life when the world had been right. Then it might have been perfect.
He drained the rest of his wine as his nameless date leaned closer to him across the table. Now he didn’t know what she’d been saying and tried to pick up the threads of her conversation. She tapped her bare wrist. “And my biological clock is ticking. If I want to have children, I need to get started. Francine, I said to myself a few weeks ago, you’re thirty years old, and you’d better get on with things.”
Francine. That was it. And Francine was dead serious about what she was saying. “Absolutely,” he said, buying time while he tried to figure out how to end this date as quickly as possible.
“Absolutely,” she echoed with an emphatic shake of her head. “As soon as I know that I’m having a child, I’m going to apply at the Briar School. Fantastic school. Do you know they vet everyone who applies? Quite hard to get your child into it.”
Rafe casually glanced at his watch. They’d been at the restaurant for only half an hour, but it seemed like a lifetime. “A good school is important,” he murmured, just to say something.
She grinned a toothy smile, as if she’d won a jackpot, and reached over to tap the back of his hand that held the wine goblet. “From what David told me about you, I knew you’d understand, that we’d be on the same page.”
Understand what, and what page? Then she answered without him having to actually ask the question. “David said you are a terrific father to your two little boys, so I knew you’d be up on the schools. So, what school do they attend?”
He shrugged. “They aren’t in school yet.”
“But I thought David said they were around five?”
“They’re four. They’ll be five in a few months.”
“But at that age…” She shrugged, obviously bothered. “Surely they’re on the list?”
“They’re on the list for kindergarten in the fall,” he said. “And they’re pretty excited about it, at least Greg is. Gabe isn’t so sure he wants to go, but if his brother goes, he’ll tag along.”
“Oh, what school?” she asked, her interest piqued again.
“The elementary school near where we live.”
“Public school?” she gasped, as if he’d said they were going into a labor camp. “Why would you do that?”
He drank more of the wine that the waiter had just poured for him. “It’s the school my wife and I planned on for them.”
Francine sat back, looking a bit flustered. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me. David explained about your loss, how your wife was…taken, and you were left with the two boys.” She reached out and patted his hand again. An action he knew was an attempt to show sympathy, but it felt intrusive and wrong to him, the way her words did. “I’m sure things would be different if she was still…here.”
If Gabriella was here, the boys would still be going to that school, and he wouldn’t be enduring this stupid conversation with a woman who was looking for a sperm donor. He moved his hand away and sipped more wine before he said, “Yes, things would be very different.”
“How long has it been since she…she passed?”
Passed? Was taken? “Since she died?” he asked bluntly, and wished he had more to drink.
“Yes,” Francine murmured somberly.
“Almost two years,” he said. Then his cell phone rang, and he took it out of the pocket of his dark suit coat as if he’d been thrown a lifeline. He glanced at the LED readout and saw a Houston number he recognized. That of Zane Holden, the CEO at LynTech Corporation, and a man who had proved to be a good friend to him when he needed one.
“Excuse me for a minute,” he said to Francine. “I need to take this.” He flipped the phone open and answered it. “Zane?”
“Yes, it’s me, Rafael.”
Zane was the only person who ever called Rafe by his given name, except for his mother. He’d said it fit, with Rafe’s naturally bronzed skin, the ebony hair, black eyes and high cheekbones. Rafe didn’t know if it fit or not, but it felt right coming from a friend he’d known since the very early days of his career in corporate security. They hadn’t seen each other recently, not since Zane had gotten married, but they kept in touch.
“What’s going on?” he asked, ignoring the waiter setting plates of food before them on the table.
There was no friendly small talk. “I need to speak with you as soon as possible. When can we get together?”
“What’s going on? You and Lindsey—”
“No, it’s business, and I need your help.”
It was a given Rafe would do anything for Zane personally or on a business level. Zane had been the one to drag him back into the land of the living when he’d needed it the most. He glanced at Francine, who was picking at her meal and trying to appear not to be listening to his conversation. He wasn’t about to feel guilty, only relieved that he had the perfect excuse to leave. “I’ll call you back in five minutes.”
“Five minutes,” Zane said.
Rafe flipped the phone shut and smiled apologetically at Francine. At least he hoped he pulled that off. “I’m so sorry, but a business emergency just came up. I need to go.”
“Oh, yes, okay,” she said, and would have stood, but he motioned for her to remain where she was.
“No, you stay and enjoy your dinner.” They’d come in their own cars, so that wasn’t a problem. “Please, it’s paid for.”
She hesitated, then sank back in the chair, obviously not happy, but not about to make a scene. “Okay, but call me?”
He nodded, not about to agree to a lie out loud, then left. He settled the bill on the way out, and exited into the softness of the Fort Worth night. He gave the valet his parking ticket, then stood off to one side of the entry door. The night was balmy and clear, with a huge moon hanging over the city. He was obscenely relieved to be done with his first and last blind date, and actually felt as if he could breathe again. Then he flipped open his phone and hit Zane’s number on speed dial. The CEO answered on the first ring.
“It’s me,” Rafe stated.
“Thanks for calling back,” Zane said, while Rafe watched a black Jaguar pull up to the restaurant.
“No problem. Now what’s wrong?”
Two women got out of the sleek black car, handed their keys to the valet, then walked toward the entry. One was tall and leggy, the other shorter and more compact. Both were blond and dressed to kill.
“A security leak at LynTech,” Zane was saying in his ear.
“Let me give you Hal Simmons’s private number and he can take care of things.”
“No, I need you on it,” Zane said.
Rafe had been watching the blondes, and was taken aback when the tall one stopped about three feet from him and very deliberately gave him the once-over. Her eyes roamed every inch of his six-foot-two-inch frame, skimming over his dark suit, the white, collarless silk shirt, then met his gaze. She didn’t even blink.
“I don’t get involved,” he said into the phone to Zane, but realized he meant it with the woman, too. And she was waiting for him to say something to her directly, anything so she could come closer. But she’d have to wait until it snowed in July for that to happen. Not because she wasn’t beautiful, but because he really wasn’t interested in dating.
“I know you gave up working on the front line years ago, but I need you to come on down here and take a personal look at the situation,” Rafe was saying through the phone. “I need your input. Nothing against your people, but you’re the best, and I need you to do this.”
“My people are good,” he said, and realized his SUV was being brought up to the curb right then.
“Of course they are. That’s why you’re our security company at LynTech.” Rafe listened as he straightened, then moved toward the blonde. She actually started to smile, but that didn’t last when he walked right past her to get to his car. He thought he heard her mutter, “Whatever,” but he didn’t bother to check.
“Then let my crew deal with it,” he said into the phone.
“No, no,” Zane exclaimed as Rafe slipped into his black SUV and handed the valet a tip before the man closed his door for him. “I’d come up there to go over it with you, but Lindsey’s pretty sick with this pregnancy.”
Maybe if Zane hadn’t mentioned Lindsey’s sickness, Rafe would have tried to talk him into contacting Simmons. His friend’s words stopped him. Rafe drove away from the restaurant into light traffic, remembering how sick Gabriella had been during her whole pregnancy with the twins, and how important it had been for him to be there for her. Despite being the head of Dagget Security, Inc., he’d stepped away from the hands-on operations of the company and started delegating and supervising so he could be with Gabriella. He’d never gone back to the day-to-day work and had never regretted his decision.
“It’s that bad?” he asked as he headed west for home.
“Looks that way. We ducked the last disaster, but there’s more coming. I can feel it. I’d hoped you could cover it yourself, maybe work out of this office for a few weeks.”
Rafe hesitated, knowing that at any other time he would have rejected that idea out of hand. But he didn’t this time. The fact was, he didn’t need to get out and date and meet women to get on with his life. He needed to get out, period. Out of Fort Worth and out of the office. He’d go to Houston, and he’d take a break. The boys weren’t in school yet, and it wouldn’t be too hard to take them with him once he opened the house he had down there. They could even have their horses if they wanted to.
“I’ll have to make arrangements for the boys and—”
“If you bring them along, why not use our day care center at the head office? It’s top-notch and right in the building. Walker loves it there, and you’d be close if the boys needed you.”
Rafe had met Walker, Zane’s two-year-old son, shortly after Zane and Lindsey had married. Now Zane was going to be a father again. Strange how people you never thought of as parent material took to having kids like ducks to water.
The traffic slowed a lot and Rafe eased along the street at a snail’s crawl, then made his decision. “Okay, I’ll give it a shot. I’m not sure when I can get there.”
“Just let me know. I’ll set up a board meeting and—”
“No, don’t do that.” If he was going to handle this, he knew exactly how he’d work it. “I think I want to go in quietly and get the lay of the land. My men are already on your payroll for security, so I’ll go in as one of them. No one would know the difference, and no one at LynTech would know me, except you and Lindsey. I can slip in easily.”
Zane didn’t argue. “Okay, when?”
“I’ll get myself hired as soon as I hang up now. I can be in Houston in a couple of days, start working at LynTech and get everything set for Carmella to bring the boys down later.”
He heard Zane exhale with undisguised relief. “Do you need me to do anything on this end?”
“Not yet. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, but I’ll be in and out. Use my cell number. There’s a huge charity ball LynTech is sponsoring to help the children’s wing at the hospital and to fund the day care center. Lindsey’s in the middle of it, and she’s been so sick that I’m doing some of the footwork for her, anything to ease the burden on her. It’s going to be huge.”
That gave Rafe another idea. “When’s the ball?”
“Next Saturday. It’s at the E. J. Sommers’s estate outside the city.”
“Who’s doing security?”
“As a matter of fact, Dagget Security is donating their services. You’re getting a huge tax write-off.”
Rafe hadn’t been told about this charity donation, but he was glad someone in his company had thought of it. This would work perfectly. “Are your people going to be at it?”
“It’s practically a command performance for all departments and their heads, along with the rich and generous in the city.”
Rafe didn’t know too many people in Houston, and if he was in a guard uniform, even the people who might know him wouldn’t look at him twice. He outlined his idea to go in as one of the security staff and work the ball to get the lay of the land and to see the people firsthand. “But I’ll need personnel files on the top people in each department, along with their clearances, especially in Legal, Contracts, and anyone you think has access to the material that’s being leaked. Throw in any computer gurus, and try to get pictures with each file.”
“It’s done. You’ll have it when you get here.”
“I’ll fly in Monday.”
“That’s great,” Zane said. “How long do you think you can hang out around here?”
Rafe took a breath and slowed as he neared the fork in the road that headed south to Houston or west to his ranch. He swung toward the ranch. “As long as it takes,” he murmured, not sure if he meant as long as it took to figure out what was going on with LynTech or as long as it took him to want to come back to Fort Worth.
Chapter One
Houston, a week later
Megan Gallagher adjusted the earpiece for her cell phone as she drove away from Houston in her rental car. She clicked a button on the microphone and said two words: “Ryan. Home.”
“Calling Ryan home,” a computerized voice said in her ear.
There were two rings, then Ryan Prescott Baron answered the phone in his usual way. “Baron here.”
“Well, hello, Baron. Gallagher here,” she said as she drove up the on-ramp and into freeway traffic heading west.
“You landed okay?”
“Sure. Some security breach held up takeoff for three hours, but I got some work done at the airport, and I finally arrived here.” She settled back in the seat, barely taking in her surroundings as she drove.
“Are you at the hotel?”
“No, I’m on my way to a charity ball.”
“A what?”
“When I got in, I received a message from Wayne Lawrence, the head of Legal for LynTech. A command to appear at this ball, wearing something fancy. It’s black-tie, so I had to get a dress at the boutique at the hotel.” A shimmering silver cocktail dress falling to just above her knees, with a low neck, deep back and narrow straps. The bill would go into her business expense folder when she got back to San Francisco. “The ball’s a big event, and apparently everyone who’s anyone at LynTech is going to be there. From the sound of it, I don’t think anyone was given a choice. Mr. Lawrence didn’t give me a choice, that’s for sure.”
“Did he fix you up with an escort, too?”
Ryan and she had known each other for three years, almost from the time she’d been recruited by LynTech out of law school into their San Francisco branch offices. She and Ryan had been engaged for the past month. They understood each other, and he understood what she had to do. He knew the rules of business. He played by them every day as the vice president of a large import-export company in the city. He knew that if this was a command performance by a superior, chances were she’d be paired up with someone else who was in the same boat. Thank goodness that hadn’t happened.
“No, he didn’t fix me up,” she said, and scanned the signs coming into view.
The last time she’d been “fixed up” had been in law school, when her roommate had decided that she needed a social life and matched her with a recent graduate. Morris, she thought his name had been. No, Norris. And Norris had been divorced with three kids, and after the first excruciatingly boring hour, she’d finally realized that he was frantically looking for a woman to take the pressure off of him with his kids so he could further his career. She hadn’t let herself be talked into a blind date again and never would. “I figure I’ll get there, meet whomever I need to, memorize some names, then plead jet lag and leave.”
“Now, that sounds like a plan,” Ryan murmured. “Too bad I couldn’t get away, or I could be your excuse to leave.”
They played well off of each other at business functions. Another way they were well-matched. “I’ll do this on my own,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.” She’d been “doing” it on her own most of her life. Her parents had been middle-aged by the time Megan made her appearance. And her only brother headed out for college before she even got home from the hospital. She was very used to being on her own. “The jet lag excuse is just fine.”
“Sorry, I’ve got another call coming in. Probably Brandson. I’ve been waiting for his update,” Ryan said suddenly.
“Okay, go take your call.”
“And you go to your ball,” he said.
“Love you,” she stated quickly.
“Same here,” he answered. Then the line went dead.
She pushed the phone’s Off button, then gripped the steering wheel again, the diamond on her ring finger glittering in the low light. She held her hand up in front of her. Ryan’s grandmother’s engagement ring, the Baron diamond, was on her finger now. Four carats, marquise cut. And sometime, somewhere down the road, his grandmother’s wedding band with inset diamonds in platinum would join it.
It had been a good decision to accept his proposal. In a few years, they’d get married, and that would be a good decision, too.
They hadn’t told too many people about the engagement, not even her brother or her parents. Megan told herself she wanted to give them the news in person, but she knew she was hesitant to tell them at all because they’d ask all the wrong questions. Quint especially. He’d had a bad marriage early on, and hadn’t been terribly romantic. But when he’d met his new wife, the man had turned into a moonstruck Romeo. All he did was talk about Amy and the two kids they had.
And their mother would go on and on about “being in love” and how exciting and wonderful it was. Being in love was nice, Megan thought. Nice and sensible. That’s what she and Ryan had. Nice and sensible, and if people found that boring, so be it. It worked for them.
She glanced at the clock on the dash of the rental car and grimaced. Mr. Lawrence had requested her presence at the ball by “no later than nine.” It was already eight-thirty, and she still hadn’t found the right exit to get to the E. J. Sommers’s estate. She’d been born and raised in the Houston area before leaving six years ago, but she hadn’t recognized the name of the road to the estate from the directions she’d been given.
“Meet me on the lower terrace,” had been included in the note, too. She didn’t know where the lower terrace would be. She’d never met Wayne Lawrence. But she’d find both the man and the lower terrace as soon as she found the estate.
She shifted, adjusted the hem of her dress, then glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. She’d chosen simple over fussy, confining her shoulder-length blond hair in a French twist held by diamond clips. She’d brushed color on her lips, put on a hint of mascara, and her only jewelry was the ring.
She looked ahead and saw a sign. The right road. She took the off-ramp onto a narrow, two-lane highway and turned the only way she could, south. As she drove around a curve, she sighed with relief when she saw the glow of lights ahead on the right, at the same moment she noticed a sign by the side of the road: Charity Ball, with an arrow pointing straight ahead.
She followed it, and pulled into an expansive entry space paved with cobble stones and faced by massive wrought-iron gates framed by stone pillars. She stopped by another sign: Check In Here. But she didn’t see anything except a security keypad. She hadn’t been given a code of any type. She looked through the gates and saw the glow from the main house. Even from this distance she could see a lot of activity going on.
She reached for her purse to get out the embossed invitation Mr. Lawrence had sent over for her, figuring there might have been a code on it she’d missed when she’d read it earlier. She skimmed the card, but didn’t see anything that resembled a code. All it said was: “Valet service at the ballroom entrance.”
She pushed it back in the envelope, rolled down her window and heard the faint sounds of music and voices drifting on the evening air. She looked at the security pad and spotted a phone by the keys. She was reaching for it when a deep male voice startled her.
“Good evening.” She turned to see a security guard on the other side of the gates, a tall man in the shadows, moving toward the left pillar. “I’ll be right there,” he said, then disappeared, only to reappear out of a gate set into the fence on the other side of the pillar.
He came toward her, backlit by the lanterns that framed the entry. “Am I glad to see you,” she said as he got within a few feet of the car. She could see now that he was carrying a clipboard in one hand, and there were a gun and two-way radio at his waist.
“Sorry for the wait.”
She had to crook her neck a bit to look up at him. He was probably over six feet, lean, in a tailored uniform, but between the night shadows and his uniform cap, his face was almost indistinguishable. “I just need to get in to the ball.”
He came close enough to touch the frame of her window with one hand, and leaned nearer. “Okay, no problem,” he said as she noticed how strong his hand looked, tanned, with square, short nails and a simple gold wedding band on the ring finger. “What’s the name?”
“Megan Gallagher.”
He pulled back and scanned the clipboard. “Sorry, ma’am, but you’re not on my list.”
“Look again. It’s Gallagher,” she said, then spelled it out for him very slowly.
“There are two Gallaghers on here and you’re not one of them. In fact, they’ve already left.”
She knew the two Gallaghers—her brother, Quint, who’d been doing work for LynTech for a while, and Amy. Megan had thought they were in New York, but they must have come back for the ball. “Look again,” she said, feeling a bit irritated that someone had forgotten to put her name on the list, and that she was now at the mercy of this guard. It was almost nine and she was going to be late.
She wasn’t aware she’d said anything else out loud, but he stated, “If you’re not on the list, you’re not,” as he hunkered down by the door. “Sorry.”
The dim glow from the inside lights of the car touched his face, and she saw she was being assessed by dark, dark eyes under a slash of equally dark eyebrows. His clean-shaven face looked almost ethnic, with high cheekbones, deeply tanned skin and a strong jaw. And it fell just short of being handsome. No, it was more disturbing than handsome, and she didn’t know why. “I need to get inside,” she said with more bluntness than she’d intended.
“Not without your name being on this list.”
“Oh, just let me in,” she said.
“Sorry, I have strict orders not to let anyone in without being on the list.”
He was like a broken record. Then she had an idea. She grabbed the invitation off the seat by her purse and turned to where he still crouched by her door. She thrust the printed card at him. “Here, this proves I’m supposed to be in there.”
He took it from her and read it, while she frantically looked at the clock again and realized she was now officially late for her meeting. Then he held it back out to her. “Your name’s not on this,” he said. “You could have picked it up out of the trash.”
That was it; she’d had enough. She opened the door, not caring if she hit him in the process, and climbed out. Her first realization when she faced him was that he was big. The security guard was over six feet tall, with broad shoulders well defined by the tight, tailored uniform. And he was annoyed. It was obvious by his stance and by the way his right hand clenched at his side. He let the invitation fall to the ground between them, then he crossed his arms on his chest, a power pose if ever she saw one. At least he didn’t pull his gun.
“What’s your name?” she asked, lifting her chin slightly and fighting the urge to cross her arms the way he had.
“Rafe Diaz,” he said, then slowly spelled it out, letter by letter, as she had done with her name earlier. Then he asked, “Is this a standoff?”
“No, it’s a problem,” she said.
“I agree,” he murmured without any sign of hesitation. “It’s your problem.”
“No, it’s yours. You’re being paid to let in guests, to be polite and make life simpler for the people going through these gates tonight, and because of you, I’m late for my date.”
“Late for your date,” he echoed, then quite deliberately let his gaze slide over her.
Her stomach clenched at the action, but she stood very still until he was finished and looked her in the eye again. “Yes, late, and it’s your fault.”
“I don’t think laying blame is the best idea, so why don’t we get past that and you tell me what you think I should do to be polite and make life simpler for you…without losing my job in the process?”
He was so composed that it only made her more annoyed. She frowned at him. “Call someone,” she said. “That won’t jeopardize your job, will it?”
“I don’t know until you tell me who to call.”
Damn him. She crossed her arms on her breasts and kept her gaze level with his. “Your boss.”
He shook his head. “Not on a Saturday night. Not a good idea. That would jeopardize my job. Give me another person to call.”
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