The House of Morgan Books 1-3

Her hair flew in her face. "Colt?"

The wind didn't matter now that heat rushed through her. "Yes, I have a generator. Now go in and keep Clara calm. She hasn't survived that many hurricanes."

"None of us have. Colt—-" She didn't know what she'd say. At home, she'd have Peter's staff to take care of safety details. At worst, she would have to call and someone would show up to take care of everything. The woodsy smell of Colt calmed her. He stepped further down the house to get another window closed, and she ran inside.

The front door flew open and slammed on the outside wall. Vicki turned around and tugged that door closed. Her muscles ached, but she won. Then she turned around and saw Clara. Her daughter stood in the hall holding a doll's hand. Clara came running to the door, but Vicki turned to use all her muscles to close it. The moment Clara came close, Vicki won her battle with the door. With the wind howling outside, Clara tugged on her arms. "I want to show you my dresses to pick one to wear. I want to be as pretty as you."

Now? Vicki's heart spiked at the girl's glow of happiness. If Clara was distracted, she'd not be worried. Vicki's lips trembled as she opened them to speak, and she lowered herself to her daughter's level to meet her gaze. "You're prettier, sweetheart. Let's go see what you have."

The girl raced to her room, and Vicki chased after her. Clara threw open her closet to pull out a dress. Without stopping, Clara kicked off her shoes, which flew halfway across the room and landed in the pile with her other shoes. Vicki could never have done that. Without a thought, Vicki knelt down and straightened the shoes out. "Good aim."

Clara had no modesty, because she dropped her clothes in a heap on the floor and showed off her superhero Underoos like it was normal. Vicki held her tongue. Perhaps for children it might be normal, but she had no idea. Instead of asking, she bent over and picked up the discarded pile to sort. Clara threw her dress on the top of her head. Vicki finished her sorting, and placed the dirty clothes in the hamper.

Clara's wail made Vicki turn around fast to see her daughter, then she stifled her laugh. Her daughter's arms flailed around with the dress over her face. Clara yelped, "Help me. I'm stuck."

On her knees, Vicki scooted over to her and helped tug the dress down. Clara lifted her arms until she could see, and then wrapped them around Vicki's neck to hug her.

Colt walked in the door and Vicki stood. As she gazed down, she saw Clara making a duck face. Colt shook his head, and their daughter laughed. "She's turned into a prissy girl that fast with you?"

Vicki's heart leapt. She gazed behind him. The window was now black from the shutters. "Stop. She's showing me how pretty she looks in a dress, and she's beautiful. So try again, Dad. Go out, then come back in and tell your daughter she looks amazing."

His brown eyes gazed at Clara with a shiny stare. Vicki's heart squeezed in her chest. She's missed out on all of this. Then he stepped backward and smiled. "Bossy as ever."

At the door he stepped into the hall, and then turned to look at his daughter. "Clara, sweetheart, you're beautiful, no matter what you wear."

The little girl smiled and twirled. Vicki sat on the side of the bed and averted her gaze. She'd not cry now. Her chest ached a little that she'd missed out on five years of her daughter's life. Her eyelids went gummy and she feared tears would form on her face again.

Clara came over to her and wrapped her arms around Vicki. "Don't cry. You're pretty too. Dad is just stupid over that meanie Belle."

Colt's voice went up an octave. "Hey now."

Vicki's chest had a flutter, and her hands trembled. Then she met Colt's warm eyes as he stared at her like he cared. "I won't cry. I'm being silly. I'm usually lighthearted and fun."

Clara brushed Vicki's hair, and she lost track of everything else.

"She's still skinny, but Vicki was always one of the gorgeous society misses in the country." Thunder crackled in the air, and Colt's face became more serious. "And I need to talk to your nanny for a minute, sweetheart."

Clara narrowed her eyes, but said nothing.

He offered her his hand to help her stand. She accepted and depended on his strength to lift herself. And stranger still, the heavy layers of doubt dropped off her shoulders in that second. Her lips parted, but she was unsure what to say. Her heartbeat became stronger in her ears, but she managed to sound normal as she said to Clara, "Be right back."

They stepped into the hall, and he closed the bedroom door behind her. "The storm will be a rainstorm mostly, but I'd feel better if you stayed the night, Vicki. Or are you running away into the hurricane?"

Her fingers ached to touch him, but she didn't dare. Instead, she lowered her gaze from his strong shoulders and answered, "I'll stay, though I didn't bring anything to sleep in."

"Good. I have supplies." He walked down the hall and waved for her to follow him. With a shrug, she complied. He continued his path across the hall to a closed door. "This is your room for the night. You already know the bathroom. I'll get you something of mine to sleep in, and I'll rustle up a toothbrush."

With a nod, she caught that sexy gleam of his gaze again, and she smiled and met his stare. "Thank you."

His features darkened and then his eyes narrowed. "I don't know your plans, Vicki. But it's clear Clara liked having you here today. We'll figure out a schedule that works, but she's my responsibility."

She forced herself to stay still. She swallowed, dropped her arms, and refused to fight with him. He was willing to share with her, and that was a good start. "You've done an amazing job. Clara is happy, secure, and she knows who she is and what she wants."

He exhaled deeply. "Good, because I don't need more fighting in my life. I've done enough of that."

Whatever he'd done as a Marine haunted him. For a moment, he stepped closer to her, and she could smell his sexy aroma. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "Look, clean up. You're messy. I'll start dinner."

He pulled his hand away, but his light smile told her he was relaxed too. "Yum. More burned food."

"Shut up, Collins. You know you can't live without me." Sashaying her hips out the door, she gave him her back.

He placed his hand on her hip, and she froze. She swallowed, turned around, and then lifted her gaze to meet his. But his eyes didn't gleam. He stared at her with cold eyes. "I fell for that one that summer..."

"It's not a line." She'd not dig up the past. Not now. Instantly, she wrinkled her nose, and admitted, "It just slipped out."

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