Page 7 of Secret Crush

His dimples appeared again. "Alice, stick to my side tonight. I don't think I like most of the other people here."

"Deal." She finished her wine. "I'd like for us to be friends, and not just people who meet at funerals."

He sighed. Without an answer, he took her empty glass, and placed it on the table next to his. He then turned and leaned closer. "Alice, you're the only woman here who hasn't looked at me with dollar bills in her eyes. Protect me from the vultures."

His right side brushed against her. Her mind turned to pudding. "Glad to be of help, John."

He sucked in his breath. His energy changed as he stood taller. "Here comes Peter."

She also stood straighter and stopped leaning against the wall. She nodded. "You'll need to talk to him."

He clasped her wrist and she froze. His touch hypnotized her. All she could do was stare at him as he said, "Don't leave my side."

If he held her hand, then she'd lose whatever was left of her mind. It was so inappropriate to be lustful at a wake. Her body disagreed. He took her hand and kept her close as Peter approached. It was strange. Victoria's brothers were very different. Peter's dark hair, brown eyes, and six-foot-three figure had muscles, but his presence left Alice cold and indifferent. She couldn't read him, but with John it was entirely different. Her skin electrified when he touched her arm. She swallowed. His lighter hair, blue eyes, and sexy dimples were all she'd ever dreamed about.

John leaned back against the wall and whispered to her, "He's up to something."

She didn't speak as Peter stopped in front of them. Neither of the men said a word to each other. They just stared.

Alice licked her lips and tried to understand what the silence meant. This might be the first time either of them had seen each other since the last funeral, though she couldn't be sure. Peter gazed at her fingers entwined with John's. "We should talk."

"Now?" John asked. His grasp remained firm. "I'm getting reacquainted with an old friend."

Peter nodded. "You'll be here for the reading of the will in a few days?"

John shrugged. "Sure, as long as Alice here keeps talking to me."

"Keep him here." Peter turned toward her. "Your contract depends on it."

John let go of her hand. Alice's heart ached as if she'd just been unmasked as some kind of fraud. She stood next to John as Peter stormed off.

John stood straighter and stiffened in front of her eyes. "Contract?"

"My family's produce gets sold in supermarkets around the country because of our contract with Morgan Enterprises. They are our biggest buyer."

John's face became unreadable as his cold veneer cut through whatever warmth was between them. He shook his head. "The House of Morgan owns everyone and everything. I'd hoped you were different."

Her eyes threatened to tear from the sting in his words, but Alice was no longer a shy girl from high school, and she wouldn't act that way. John started to walk away. She placed her hand on her hip and shouted after him. "John Morgan, don't you dare sit in judgment of me and my family. We work hard every day for what we produce and we're proud of it. What have you ever done?"

John stopped, turned. His gaze stayed on her for several beats. Then he stormed down the hall like he'd been stung by an entire swarm of wasps. She rubbed her arms. Unsure what to do, she retreated inside the vestry. She'd come to this affair to be seen, and it was time she knelt at the altar to get her picture taken, just like every other person here.

John Morgan could rot. Her crush on him died today, finally. She hadn't seen him since the day her best friend was buried, and there was clearly a good reason to stay far away. Self-absorbed jerks didn't deserve her time.

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