The Secretary's Seduction

He was still staring at her. "I've never seen you wear your hair down."

"Not by choice, no. But I had a headache earlier, on the plane, so I took the bobby pins out." He didn't say anything and she shifted uncomfortably. "You don't like my hair down, do you? It is on the messy side-"

"It's nice. I'm just not used to seeing you like this, but it-you-look very nice."

His voice had deepened and she felt absolutely terrified again. This wasn't normal. She didn't know what to do, or what to say. It didn't help when Franco arrived with a bottle of champagne.

Champagne. Her heart did a painful flip. Morgan was really going all out.

Franco held the bottle before Morgan, waiting for his approval, and once getting it, pushed the cork off with a soft pop.

Her first bottle of real champagne, French champagne, in a restaurant named Franco's with News Weekly's Man of the Year. This wasn't her life. She was living Morgan's ex-girlfriend Annika's life. Only problem was, she didn't know how to be Annika.

Winnie smiled nervously as Morgan filled her glass before filling his. The champagne was a pale gold and very fizzy. Hundreds of tiny bubbles rose swiftly to the surface and she realized she'd better say something intelligent soon, do something semi-sophisticated.

Winnie seized her flute. "To News Weekly's Man of the Year," she proposed, voice quavering. "Congratulations, Morgan. You deserve it."

She sounded so sincere, so artless, Morgan thought, lifting his glass and clinking his flute against hers. The candlelight flattered her, her pale skin luminous in the candle's flickering yellow-white light.

She wasn't like the women he dated. She was far more grounded, more real. He liked her lack of sophistication; it suited him better than glamour and glitz. Everyone assumed because he'd made enormous sums of money that he liked the trappings, preferred the trappings. The opposite was true.

"It's been quite a year," she added. "You're everyone’s favorite person."

"Not yours," he answered mockingly.

Her cheeks turned pink. Her gaze dropped to the tablecloth. "You're talking about the book, but I really do hate it when you bring this up because the last six months have been amazing. I mean, let's face it. You're amazing."

Something in her voice wrapped around his heart.

She had a softness in her that constantly surprised him. He didn't know many women anymore that were still so tender, still so…innocent.

Morgan frowned, momentarily confused. He wasn't entirely comfortable with this slight shift in feeling. He wasn't comfortable with feeling, period, but he hadn't selected her as a wife candidate based on emotion. It was reason. She was the most logical choice.

"And to think a week ago I felt underappreciated," she said with a wry smile. "I guess I can't feel that way now, can I?"

"You felt underappreciated?"

"You didn't even know my name!"

He felt a stab of guilt. That was bad. She had a right to be upset, but she also had to learn to accept responsibility for herself. Stand on her own two feet. "I wish you'd corrected me the first time I said it wrong. Tapped me on the shoulder, buzzed me on the intercom-"

"Would never happen," she interrupted with another husky laugh, and in the candlelight he realized her eyes were a hazel green, mostly green, with just a touch of yellow. "You ... you're ... you."

"Brilliant deduction, Miss Graham."

She smiled at him, pink suffusing her cheeks and something shifted inside him yet again. This emotion was new, and rather protective, and more than a little bit jealous. Mr. Osborne couldn't have her. Morgan wasn't going to lose her.

Dinner over, Franco cleared their plates and the empty champagne bottle was replaced with coffee. Winnie leaned back against the booth, relaxed, sated.

"Lovely," she sighed and then was forced to cover her mouth to smother a yawn. She hadn't looked at her watch but it had to be way past midnight. ''This was like a dream."

"It doesn't have to end." Morgan leaned forward, black knit shirt pushed up on his muscular forearms. "I have an idea, and it's going to sound a little crazy, but I think it'd work, and I think we'd both be happy."

"You're going to give me a raise?"

His eyes met hers and held. They were such a dark blue, gleaming like water beneath a full moon. "You could say that.'

He reached down, drew a small black-velvet jeweler’s box from his trouser pocket and set it on the table.

Winnie's heart stopped for a moment. She felt odd, a prickly sensation shooting from her middle to her limbs.

He slid the jeweler's box across the table. "Marry me."

"This is like a prank high school boys play. This is something they'd do-set you up, make you feel special, and then humiliate you afterward. But I never, ever would have expected this from you. "

He caught her by the shoulders. "But this isn't a joke. The proposal is real, and I'm very sincere, but obviously I approached it wrong."

She closed her eyes. "Have some pity, please."

But he wouldn't stop talking and his fingers dug into her shoulders. "I should have told you at the outset that this is business. I should have prefaced the proposal by telling you it's a job. I do want to marry you but it wouldn't be all fun and games. There's the media to contend with, and tremendous social pressure, but I'd take care of you financially. I'd make sure you had everything your heart desires."

His fingers tightened yet again. "Everything," he repeated more forcefully.

She'd begun to shake. She felt so cold. She couldn't believe he'd do this. She couldn't believe he'd treat her this way. "That's not funny." Her hands felt stiff as she groped about on the seat for her purse before remembering she'd left it in the limo.

"I'm not making a joke."

"Put it away," she choked.

"Winnie-'

"Don't Winnie me." She felt naked in her silk blouse, bereft with her hair down. It was as if he'd caught her skinny-dipping. She felt so bare, so exposed.

Winnie slipped out of the booth and onto her feet.

"Don't get up," she said quickly, cheeks feverish, her skin burning with shame. And she did feel shame. She felt completely humiliated. ''I'll just grab a cab."

Morgan dropped cash on the table and followed quickly. "Wait, Winnie." He barred her exit with an arm strategically placed across the doorway. "Don't leave. Not like this."

"I think we've both had enough drama for one evening," she choked, unable to look at him, her arms bundled across her chest.

He'd always thought of her as comfortable and solid, but without her blazer he realized she wasn't very big at all and definitely not comfortable and solid. He could see the outline of a delicate collarbone through her thin silk blouse and the slender bra strap across her straight back. With her head averted he glimpsed her neck and the pale creamy skin beneath her ear. She looked so small. And terribly defenseless.

"Winnie, don't be angry. I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm trying to tell you that I need you."

Need her? Winnie thought, trying hard to keep the tears from falling. He didn't need her. He was Morgan Grady, New York's Sexiest Bachelor. How could he need anything?

****

The Wedding Of The Year! New York papers proclaimed. Wall Street's Most Eligible Bachelor No Longer Available.

Winnie tried to avoid reading the papers, not wanting to get caught up in the hype but every now and then she'd sit back at her desk and stare off into space and just smile. She, Winnie Graham, was marrying Morgan Grady in just four weeks.

There was paperwork to sign, a contract and a rather tersely worded prenuptial agreement, but the business aspect didn't bother her. He needed her, and that was enough.

Planning the wedding was even more exciting. For the first time in years she and her mother had something in common and they spent hours on the phone discussing wedding traditions and making decisions about the ceremony and reception.

Winnie confided to her mother one evening that she felt like Cinderella getting ready for the ball. Everything was just so perfect, Winnie enthused, life couldn't be better.

"You really love him, don't you?" her mother had said gently, maternal pride in her voice. It was almost as if she couldn't believe that Winnie, her most awkward daughter, would soon be a radiant bride.

"Of course!" Winnie didn't even have to think about it. There were no questions in her mind. She was doing th

e right thing. Morgan needed her and she needed him. "I'm crazy about him. I couldn't love anyone more."

Her mother hesitated. "And you're sure he's right for you?"

"Mother, I love Morgan."

Her mother hesitated even longer this time. "Yes, darling, but are you sure he loves you?"