Page 8 of Mistletoe Missus
I questioned in a whisper, “Do you always lock lips with random women, Mr. Morgan?”
“Usually.”
Typical man.
“Figures,” I blurted out and slapped a hand over my mouth.
Me and my big mouth!
“But not more than once,” Mitt added while heat fused inside of me, resembling a blazing inferno.
Scratch that. Mitt was an unusual man.
“Oh,” was the only word I could formulate.
“Please. Don’t call me Mr. Morgan, call me Mitt.”
“Mitt.” I nodded as my hands moved while I talked and awkwardness set in.
On top of being crazy for even wanting to marry a man who granted me with explosive kisses, I was a nervous wreck. I appeared like a basket case, ready to commit myself to the nearest loonie bin, harnessing my hands to the bed and throwing away the key. Mitt made me anxious, vulnerable, and a hot mess, but for good reason. He was a lawyer and not any regular attorney. Mr. Morgan was the top lawyer in all of New York City at Morgan’s Law & Associates.
Surprised was an understatement to describe the way I felt sitting beside a man who made headlines in the news constantly. Mr. Morgan was a defense lawyer in some of the most controversial court cases. He was the best of the best, and I couldn’t believe I had not recognized him. Either I was too caught up in the attraction sizzling between us, or a television screen didn’t do him justice. Whichever it was, it didn’t matter because the legend himself peered at me, straight in my eyes, and was soon to be my husband.
I’d never hear the end of this, and Holly would be all over this like a berry bush taking over a vegetable garden. But the initial blow would lessen once I told her I married a famous lawyer who ruled all of New York City. My luck had turned around after the rude awakening of my ex cheating on me. Good fortune was on my side; everything in my life would look up from here.
“I’m sorry for being—”
“Ms. Kingsley...” Mitt interrupted as he took my hands in his and stopped my nervous movements. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
Wait... What? I didn’t recall telling him my name?
“How do you know my name?”
“I had to know who you are, and I hired someone to hunt you down, Tinsley,” he answered without a care in the world.
Unbelievable!
“Let me get this straight...” I said, after blinking several times. “You checked into who I was, but never tried to contact me?”
“Yes.”
What in the actual fuck! Who did I get into this car with?
I pulled my hands away from his while the thought of someone looking into my personal life caught me off guard. I should be completely creeped out and turned off. A scream should have escaped from my wide-open mouth with a screech belting out from the top of my lungs. I should have gotten out of his limousine and ran as soon as my heels hit the ground. Mitt Morgan was a walking, talking, and breathing red flag, and I should have yelled for help. But I couldn’t.
I sat there, far too stunned and aware of his brutal honesty. He could’ve lied, made something up to avoid sounding like my stalker, but he didn’t. He gave me the truth, and it was more than I ever got from Beau.
I boldly asked, “Why?”
“Because I had to know who I couldn’t stop thinking about after we shared our first kiss.”
Mitt made me blush even brighter, as beet red as Rudolph’s nose. Hell, I should have been as white as a ghastly ghost after his admission, but I wasn’t. I feltsafewith him. It was a comfort I shouldn’t grow accustomed to, and I should proceed with caution. Especially with an alarm going off in my head, butall care went out the window with the hint of amusement in his mysterious eyes.
“I guess you knew I had a boyfriend?” I blurted out, and embarrassment seared through me.
“Yes.”
“And that didn’t bother you?” I asked through squinted eyes. “A woman you’re kissing and running a background check on being with another man?”
