Free Flirting With the Forbidden by Joss Wood Page A

sister,’ James growled.
    ‘Basic bodyguarding,’ Noah agreed, and he knew that James wasn’t sure whether he was messing with him or not. James still looked like a thundercloud so he looked him in the eye. ‘I will be completely professional when it comes to Morgan, James. You have my word.’
    Besides, her safety depended on it... He couldn’t look out for danger if he was eyeing her rack. Or her butt. Or imagining those legs around his hips...
    And, although it was a lot less easy to admit, he was grateful for the order to keep his hands off Morgan. She was the type of woman he normally avoided. One of the few women who had caught his interest on more than a physical level. She intrigued him—mentally, emotionally. There was more to her than being the Moreau heiress, the reluctant NYC socialite. And that scared the hell out of him. Besides, he was consumed by his business. He didn’t have the time or the energy to give to a woman.
    James’s shoulders dropped as the tension seeped out of him. Noah knew that James considered his and Morgan’s relationship now to be defined, bound by the two contracts he would sign with MI. But to Noah it was written in blood—because he’d given James his word. No agreement written on paper trumped that.
    Noah held out his hand and James reluctantly took it. ‘Anything happens to Morgan you’re a dead man,’ James told him.
    ‘Anything happens to Morgan I will be a dead man—because that’s the only way they’ll get to her.’
    James’s face lightened with appreciation and Noah thought that he might, maybe , be back on relatively solid ground with the brother and boss.
    ‘Do either of you care what I want or think?’ Morgan demanded, her hands on her hips.
    Noah shook his head and looked at James. ‘Uh...no.’
    Noah ducked the glass that she sent flying towards his head and winced when the crystal shattered on the expensive tiles. Maybe he should curb the off-the-cuff honest answers. Good thing she had the aim of a one-eyed toddler or that might have hurt.
    And, more importantly, it was a waste of a very fine dram.

FIVE
    Wasn’t there a song about yesterday and troubles seeming so far away? Morgan wondered as she stomped back into her bedroom, kicking her door closed behind her. Yesterday’s biggest problems had been how to re-set Mrs Killain’s fabulous teardrop diamond earrings into a more contemporary, cleaner setting, whether or not to attend the opening night of the Ballet Belle’s new production, and who to take to Merri’s wedding.
    In one day she’d been slapped with an additional job, an old almost-lover, the attempted kidnapping of her mother, and a new bodyguard whom she wanted to jump.
    Bats! On a freaking broomstick!
    Right. First things first. Think it through... Her mum’s almost-kidnapping. No, don’t think of the ‘what ifs’. Push the emotion away...
    Her mum was only superficially hurt, and by now both her parents were in the family jet on their way to a safe place. The house in the Cayman Islands was a well-kept secret and James would have arranged for additional guards for them. Her parents were out of harm’s way. That was good news.
    Right: problem two. With her mum out of town, someone had to get cracking on organising the Moreau Charity Ball, and it looked as if she was now that someone. How was she going to manage to do that and keep her dyslexia under wraps? The last thing she wanted was to see pitying looks on the faces of Moreau staff...or from anyone else. Unfortunately a lot of people still equated dyslexia with stupidity, and she couldn’t just go around announcing, I’m dyslexic, but my IQ is one hundred and forty-eight .
    No, her dyslexia was her issue to deal with, and she didn’t require sympathy, pity, or for anyone to make allowances for her. She’d just insist on short reports and plough through them at night...she’d make lists and check and double-check them.
    Yay! What joy.
    As for her almost-lover and new