Secret Tryst

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dark clouds were hard to see in the evening sky, but Damien Morgan knew they were there. He preferred the nighttime shadows. He turned off the engine of his Honda Ridgeline RTL-E and checked his phone for last minute messages concerning any of his businesses.

In real estate, the best weapon he had was information.

Soon, he'd have all the evidence he needed to prove that Gilbert Fineroy's interference with his newest investment was the man's biggest mistake. Gilbert had criminal associates so it was only a matter of time until Damien fashioned the noose to hand over to the FBI.

He’d inherited a side business which he used to get his eyes and ears on anything that might help his real estate ventures succeed. Once his informants gathered secrets he sold the information, mostly to Morgan Enterprises.

As a teenager, he’d performed and collected favors to ensure his father, Mitch Morgan, had the dirt on everyone. He’d learned early that women made better spies, and corporate espionage was hard to prove when the information was shared with employees or friends who never signed contracts.

Damien stepped out of his truck at the same time his brother, Mitch Morgan III, texted him. Mitch was the good oldest son. He’d studied hard and operated his bank just as their father instructed.

You're late, again. Galen and Axel are betting you bail.

Now, he and his next to oldest brother Galen worked a partnership where they invested heavily in hostile takeovers, breaking apart companies to rebuild them again. They had a more reputable business in real estate development.

Axel was the keyboardist in a famous band, which made him the rebel of the family. He finished sending an email to one of his associates about the particulars she needed to find for him, and then he stepped out of his black truck. Then he typed Mitch, They'd lose that bet. Now go kiss your new wife. I'll be aboard in a moment.

Mitch was doubly blessed in this life as he’d found a woman that fit him perfectly—he’d married her fast and seemed to have zero regrets.

Damien took a step toward the yacht, where a blonde in a sparkling blue dress had her picture taken by the press. She had the face of an angel as she smiled and her pale skin glowed from the lights.

He gritted his teeth. Women like that were to be avoided at all costs. She brought to mind sunshine and daylight, and dreams of happiness. He’d almost had that once, with Tracy, but she’d betrayed him—she’d taught him a valuable lesson of not wanting what he couldn’t have.

He ducked his face and rushed by her, getting a hint of coconuts.

As he climbed onto the ship, he saw Mitch, Galen and Axel chatting with Peter Morgan, the groom, and their half-brother. Damien held his head high and joined the men, who all seemed at ease. He teased Peter, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Absolutely." Not joking at all.

Peter Morgan used to seem guarded, but now he radiated a look of well-being that made Damien uncomfortable. He turned away and then saw below, near the dance floor, Jennifer Gonzales. His eyes widened. "You invited the last woman you were going to marry?"

"Belle insisted." Peter's face had a blush on it.

Women worked on a whole other level, not that he'd say that out loud. Instead he said, "You are marrying a saint."

"Belle is perfect for me." He tugged on his tux jacket as he stood taller.

That smile of Peter’s returned—satisfied and content. Damien took a step away and caught a glimpse of the blonde in the blue sparkling dress.

She chatted with Matthew Morgan, the famous actor and his half-brother, as she sipped her champagne. The glow on the woman's skin took his breath away. Damien decided he'd at least get a better look at her so he knew who to steer clear of. He stepped out of the conversation with his brothers and into the darkness of the hall. "Catch you four later and good luck."

Unfortunately, his brother Peter had a run of bad luck when planning this wedding but this evening would put an end to it.

"Thanks," Peter said.

He walked down the small flight of steps to the next level of the yacht and ran into Jennifer, Peter's ex. She pouted as she stared at the luminous blonde and Matthew. With her hands crossed, Jennifer acted the part of a jealous woman, but not at who he’d expected. Seemed Peter was forgotten in favor of Matthew. He pressed his shoulder into hers and she turned toward him. "So, are you dating the newest Morgan now, Jennifer?"

She lifted a champagne glass from the passing waiter. "Damien. It's nice to see you and no. Matthew and I worked a movie together and have a press circuit to run in a few months. I'm hoping the premiere helps prove to everyone that I'm a great actress—not just for telenovelas. It could lead to a bright future."

"You look stunning in the magazines that I see while buying my milk." He took a sip of his champagne. "Just as you look tonight." Her dress was all red and molded to her curves.

With her free hand, she caressed the plunging neckline of her sparkling dress. "This is my ode to Scarlett O'Hara, the temptress, so I dressed the part."

Jennifer was always playing a part. In the distance, the blonde laughed and placed her hand on Matthew's shoulder. Jennifer's voice echoed in his head, but he had no idea what she said. He blinked and asked, "What?"

"Never mind." He turned toward Jennifer and the ocean behind her as she said, "You can run and tell Peter I have no plans to ruin anything. I thank him for the invitation."

"Belle invited you." Enough of Jennifer. He turned again and the blonde gave Matthew a smile of interest. His stomach churned though he had zero right to be jealous. Angelic women weren't his type.

Jennifer shrugged. "Then send my thanks to her—I’m not sure I want to face either of them."

"I'm not an errand boy." This was not how he intended to spend the evening. The image of the blonde touching Matthew's shoulder played in his head. He sipped his champagne until the wayward thought disappeared.

"Then what are you?" Her tone let him know she hadn’t taken offense.

Damien had missed Jennifer's wit. He winked at her. "Whatever you want me to be."

"Liar. You're staring at the blonde."

Caught red-handed. He flashed a dimple and then shrugged his shoulder. "So, who is she?"

"I have no idea actually." She narrowed her gaze. “She looks vaguely familiar.”

Again, the blonde laughed at something Matthew said. The actor took her empty champagne flute. To get her another? The blonde turned toward the ocean as soon as he left, clearly wanting alone time. Jennifer scowled and marched forward. "But she's someone I need to talk to."

With that frown, Damien wondered if she'd throw the woman off the yacht as they pulled away from the dock. While he refused to ever involve himself with a girl resembling an adult cheerleader, he hoped Jennifer stayed calm at his brother's wedding. He followed to make sure there wasn’t a scene.

Unfortunately, his brother returned to her side and handed her a flute of champagne.

Jennifer kept one hand on her hip as she glared down her nose. "Hello, Matthew who is your friend?"

The blue-eyed angel smiled and held out her hand. "I'm Serenity and I'm a huge fan of yours, Ms. Gonzales."

“Call me Jennifer.”

Serenity was the perfect name for someone who looked like her. After she shook Jennifer's hand, she turned toward him. The perky blonde smiled though she narrowed her eyes as she stared. "Do I know you?"

"No. I'm Damien Morgan, half-brother to the groom."

"Nice to meet you."

He stayed silent and tried to figure this out. Why would she know him? Of course, there were enough male Morgans here that maybe she was confused.

She tilted her head. "Jennifer, you are welcome at Calm Serenity for a complimentary massage, anytime."

"Thanks. That's really sweet of you. I hear great things about your spa."

She had no last name, but Damien put clues together. He remembered a Serenity—he’d met her father before John Morgan had him arrested and then the other Hansom daughter had teamed up with a rogue FBI agent for revenge—both were now in jail.

Serenity had owned a spa free of her father's money. Perhaps she wasn't as saintly as she seemed though the glow to her smile screamed authentic. Then again, she could be running her father’s money laundering operation in that spa of hers for all he knew. Looks didn’t make anyone innocent.

Serenity nodded with pleasure. “Our grand opening in Miami is next week.” She looked to Matthew now too. “Anytime either of you want to prepare for your movie premiere, my people will ensure you're relaxed and camera ready."

"Cameras are hard on the skin. I'll be there." Jennifer finished her champagne, no more frown to mar her brow.

Matthew motioned to Serenity he'd be right back as someone behind him waved at him and clearly wished to talk. To Damien, the champagne now tasted sour. Matthew clearly wanted the angel and he should leave them alone, but his feet stayed planted where they were.

Perhaps later he'd find her and figure out if she ran a business like her father had, ignoring the law. Damien placed his hand on Jennifer's spine and pointed her toward the bar area. "Jennifer, let's leave these two alone."

They both turned when Serenity said, "I hope we meet again later, Jennifer. Your character in The Burning Fields really struck a place in my heart."

Jennifer hugged her like they were best friends and sighed. "I'll be there on Saturday. I hope you'll be there too so we can talk."

"Absolutely." Serenity nodded.

Damien walked Jennifer inside to the bar where they could sit for a few minutes before the ceremony. If the spa was a criminal front, good people needed to stay away and that included Jennifer. "Jennifer, why did you accept her offer?"

Jennifer motioned for another glass and a waiter immediately appeared. She positioned herself with an elegant leg crossed over the other and drank. "Calm Serenity is supposed to be the best. How can I say no?"

His gaze drifted outside. Serenity held out her hands at the front of the ship while she laughed hysterically. Matthew encouraged her to reenact the infamous scene in Titanic. The two were clearly getting along, and Damien ignored the knot growing in his stomach that left a wake of bile.

Jennifer clinked her glass with his and brought his attention back to her. "Why are you staring at her?"

"I'm not." He tugged his ear and turned his face away. Yes, that was a lie. Serenity had something about her that made him stare. Tonight, he'd keep his distance and tomorrow he'd forget her.

Jennifer didn’t bother hiding her eye roll. "I'm not blind."

"Don't be jealous. Her type doesn't interest me." He swallowed his drink. Dreams and fairy tales were for children and those living in fantasy worlds. He lived in reality.

Jennifer giggled. "You don’t even know her! What type is that?"

"Serenity Hansom is the same as every other beautiful socialite—vapid and high-maintenance.” He answered fast as he thought about Tracy and the wiles she had once used on him.

A gasp sounded from the door. He looked up and directly into Serenity's blue eyes. His face heated as he placed his glass on the table. She turned and rushed out the door without a word to anyone.

"I think she heard us," Jennifer said as she sipped her champagne.

That was an understatement. He coughed and gestured for another round. "Doesn’t matter."

From the corner of his eye, he watched Matthew take Serenity out on the dance floor. If she kept her distance from him, they'd both be better off. His words shouldn't hurt her as she didn't really know him. Everything was as it should be.