Morgan pressed the remote in her hands and watched windows and doors slide open on command with just a whisper of sound. The alarm had finally been installed and the cable company had spent days working on having everything wireless—not a cord in sight.
She walked through the heavily carved mahogany door inspired by Cal’s home and looked around in the hushed space. The grand staircase and floating balcony overlooked the open kitchen, which was a dream for any type of cook. Gorgeous precious-metal pendants lit up the marble countertops in a huge horseshoe, with a built-in stove top and cabinets shimmering with the richness of cedarwood. Cushioned stools lined the countertops, and Dalton had constructed a table with special carvings in the legs and matching benches. The golds, tans, and muted wine color blended together to soothe the eye but also startle as bursts of vivid orange and sunny yellow showed within the accents, from the mix of sculptures and four-foot vases filled with exotic florals.
Her gaze assessed the subtle green walls, cocktail tables, and vintage coffee table Dalton had restored. Beveled crystal glass mirrors shimmered, and muted oriental carpets were thrown carelessly in seemingly random patterns that set off the artsy chairs she’d lovingly reupholstered in lipstick red. The punch of color was needed to pull together the aesthetics of the open brick fireplace, wood, and neutrals.
A smile curved her lips as she took in the grandfather clock on the far wall. It was the true centerpiece of the room, with the Rosenthals’ initials stenciled in place of the numbers. The soothing ticktock brought a life to the room that would’ve made it more of an art show. Morgan had made sure each room had a particular item that carried the decor. For the main living room where people would gather, it was the clock, representing the passing of time, the preciousness of moments that tick by, and the reminder to spend them well.
As Morgan toured the rest of the house, a strange worry and restlessness coursed through her blood. This was her client’s house, but so much of herself beat through the soul of every room. How many times had she struggled not to cross the line of what she envisioned this house to be and what the Rosenthals expected? She’d never had that problem before. Morgan followed the rules. But this one time she’d taken a bit of a gamble. From the herb garden on the back patio, to the stark white lounge chair that was both comfortable and stunning, to the jewelry armoire lined with velvet and embossed gold knobs, she’d picked every piece of furniture and accent that would add to the spirit and beauty of the house.
It had to work. She’d done what Cal had urged and gone with her gut. Surely her years of experience and knowledge would shine through. The Rosenthals would see what she saw in this house and fall in love. Then she’d score another large client and move on to the next house.
Morgan stopped as the thought held her. Was she going to leave? Maybe she could stay in Harrington for a while. Take a mini vacation to recharge, and see if they could build a life here. It was possible. Anything was possible.
He loved her.
She hugged the knowledge to her heart. That night, his simple words had buried deep inside her and claimed her forever. He wasn’t a man to give love easily. But once he did, Morgan knew she’d be his own personal queen, because that was the way he made her feel every day and every time he looked at her.
“Morgan? Are you up there, baby?”
His voice echoed through the house. She climbed the stairs and looked into his beloved face. His dark tan had lost some of its color from the turning of fall but was still a golden brown. Tiny lines bracketed his eyes and mouth, confirming his nonstop schedule and little sleep gotten within the past weeks. His T-shirt was dusty, and his jeans had a hole in the knee.
“We alone?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good.” Cal reached out and snagged her around the waist, dragging her into his arms. His lips feasted on hers with a raw hunger that still held an edge, as if he’d never get enough of her. She clung to his hard strength, enjoying the scent of male sweat and spice that drifted from his skin. She kissed him back with open enthusiasm that ripped a growl from his mouth.
“We doing dinner tonight?” he asked.
“Yes. I told your brothers they could join us.”
He groaned and nipped at the curve of her neck. She shivered. “Princess, I’m sick of those bozos eating with us all the time. I have a great idea. Let’s go back to your hotel and order room service. Let them fend for themselves.”
She laughed. Funny, she was rarely at the Hilton anymore. Her nights were spent over at Cal’s, along with weekends when they could catch a few hours of downtime. They’d gotten in a routine, including his family, that made her soul happy. “I promised. The Rosenthals come in tomorrow, so tonight is our last dinner for a while. I’ll be tied up with them finalizing details, completing paperwork, and making sure they’re settled in Harrington.”
He blew out a breath. “Fine. But I’m kicking them out early.”
“Fair enough.” They gazed at one another for a moment, and she caught an odd light in his eye. “What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”
Cal cocked his head, as if wondering if he should say something. “Yeah. I don’t want you to go when this project is over, Morgan. I want you to stay with me. Do you want that, too?”
Her heart surged at the same time that guilt struck her. She remembered his words to Sydney. He wanted a big family. He was owed the truth before they promised each other anything. “Yes. I’m in love with you, Cal. I want to work something out, because everything about us feels good and right.”