Crush by Crystal Hubbard Read Free Book Online Page B

was supposed to be at her disposal at all times, and she was determined to turn him into her impromptu travel agent.
    She wore sneakers, but her feet were killing her by the time she’d completed the hike from the solar to Morgan’s office, a room just off the Banquet Hall where he managed the castle’s daily business. Miranda stood in the low, narrow corridor leading to Morgan’s office, her hands on her knees, catching her breath and steeling her nerves before confronting him.
    The cheerful music of lively conversation drifted from the Banquet Hall. Bernie’s distinctive voice and island dialect rose above all the others. “Tell me,” he began, “how often does your lord and master entertain his paramours and their chaperones in such grand fashion?”
    Miranda pasted herself to the stone wall and crept closer to the Banquet Hall for a better listen.
    “Aye, he’s never brought a lady friend to Conwy,” said an anonymous female voice with a thick Irish brogue. “Lucas is a very private person.”
    “Then why, may I ask, has Mr. Fletcher gone to such extremes to please my darling Miranda?” Bernie asked.
    Miranda peeped into the room. Bernie was the only person standing at the table, which was easily 25 yards long. Dark wood chairs with tall, intricately carved backs lined each side of the table, and bodies were seated in each. The diners, all of whom Miranda assumed were Conwy’s staff, served themselves from lovely porcelain casseroles, platters and tureens situated amidst fresh bouquets of wild roses and ivy. Five chandeliers, four smaller ones surrounding a magnificent central one the size of her Toyota, hung from the ceiling, which was so high the rafters escaped the light cast by the sparkling crystal ornaments. Elegant tapers of ivory and ecru burned on the table and from brass sconces throughout the room. The flames danced when someone laughed or reached across the table. Miranda caught the scent of something warm and meaty, and her belly noisily growled.
    “We don’t question what Lucas does,” said an older woman with silver hair and a Welsh accent. “Our instructions were to treat Miss Penney as though she was the bloomin’ queen of England.” The woman paused, and then said, “We took it upon ourselves to treat her better than that.”
    The table erupted in laughter. Miranda chewed her lip, desperate to join them. It spoke well of Lucas that his employees were so happy. But he was still the boss, and she was his queen…at least for the night. Since she was the one they were supposed to impress, they probably wouldn’t be able to relax if she were to walk in on them and take a seat.
    “Thanks, Lucas,” she muttered sullenly as she turned and headed for Morgan’s office.
    * * *
    “Ken, have you seen…Oh, my…Hello.”
    Miranda was sitting on a sofa, leafing through a golf magazine and she turned to face the man who had appeared in Morgan’s doorway. It was in her mind to tell him that Morgan wasn’t there, that she herself had been waiting for him for over twenty minutes, but the words fled her mind the instant the man walked into the room.
    “Hello.” Miranda stood on legs suddenly gone very weak and very shaky.
    “Hello,” he said again. “Miranda.”
    His melodic pronunciation of her name turned her belly to jelly. When he offered his hand, she didn’t see it. Her eyes were fixed on his, marveling at their unusual shade of blue. Were his eyes really that blue, or was it the deep navy of his fisherman’s sweater making them seem so? Her eyes dropped to his mouth. The delicious shape of it and how it formed her name thrilled her, and his accent gave her goose bumps. He spoke to her again and she heard nothing other than the tone and timbre of his sexy voice.
    “Miranda?” he repeated. “Are you all right?”
    This was the man who had saved her from the crush. This man with the broad, muscled chest, glossy hair and incredible smile, who looked at her as though he had found a