Love's Portrait Read Free Page B

invest in St. Claire Shipping, and yet before he could stop himself, he’d agreed to sell her shares in his company.
    His jaw tightened. His agreement to the contingencies she demanded as part of her investment had been even more egregious. It was one thing to consider indulging in a liaison with the woman, but to open up his office doors to her was altogether a different matter. And yet, he’d done just that. He’d agreed to let the woman experience his company’s operations first-hand. A fact that illustrated how fascinated he was with the woman. And he’d do well to remember where enthrallment generally led.
    It was a well-known fact that his mother had supposedly captivated his father in the beginning, and Morgan knew how well their marriage had turned out. His throat closed up slightly. It hadn’t taken Morgan’s father long to stray from his wife. Embittered by the man’s blatant affairs, his wife had come to hate the sight of Morgan because he was a younger version of his sire. Between his mother’s distaste for him and his father’s indifference, Morgan’s childhood had been less than pleasant. And the experience had done little to recommend the state of matrimony to him.
    Julia reached for her wine glass, and the movement interrupted the unpleasant retrospection of his childhood. Beneath his gaze, Morgan saw the pulse in the side of her neck flutter. The delicate movement indicated she was aware of his stare, and from the rigid set of her shoulders to the way her fingers curled around the stem of her wine glass her tension was plain to see. He liked knowing he unsettled her. It meant she wasn’t immune to him.
    He stared at her lips for a long, drawn out moment. It was a tempting mouth. The wine had stained her lips a dark red, and a sudden urge to taste her latched onto him with all the force of a charging bull. He fought the desire clamping down on every inch of his body as he watched her take a bite of her salmon. Despite her attempt to present a calm composure, he knew she was anything but.
    “You seem distracted, Mrs. Westgard.” He bit back a smile as she quickly looked away from him.
    “Do I?” There was a catch in her voice before she regained that serene composure she’d consistently presented him with since their first meeting. “Forgive me. I’m simply savoring this delicious salmon. The hotel’s chef has outdone himself. Do you suppose he would send me the recipe?”
    “Actually I have a personal chef who prepares all my meals, and I’m afraid Henri refuses to share his secrets.” He deliberately paused and offered her a secretive smile. “Even with me.”
    “What a pity.” She took another bite of her dinner, and his gut tightened as he watched her mouth and suddenly wished they were alone. Her throat flexed slightly as she swallowed. “This salmon is a dish I could eat quite often.”
    “Then come back for dinner again, next week,” he said as he leaned toward her, his voice dropping a level so that his invitation reached only her ears. The startled expression on her face made him smile, and he saw her hand tremble as she quickly laid down her fork.
    “I think that would be unwise. One should never mix business with pleasure.”
    He bit down on the inside of his mouth at having his own rule thrown back in his face. She was right, but it was too late to go back now.
    “Perhaps.” He reclined back into his chair and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Although I’m sure it would be quite—pleasurable.”
    She immediately took another drink of her wine, this time more a gulp than a sip. If possible, her confusion made her even more beautiful. What would she be like tipsy? Relaxed and uninhibited with no barriers between them. He liked the idea.
    “I’m glad to see that my Bordeaux is to your liking.” He grinned as a pink flush crested in her cheeks. She shot him a baleful look, which only made him chuckle as he lowered his voice even more. “You blush quite charmingly,