Romance In Paradise. Sarah Mayberry

the presses! Noah Fraser had volunteered some personal information! ‘You have brothers?’

      ‘Well, despite what you think, I wasn’t cloned in a Petri dish,’ Noah said, his tone grumpy.

      ‘Younger? Older? Where are they? What do they do? Are they married?’

      ‘Jeez, mention one little thing and I get a million questions.’ Noah stopped a waiter, asked for a mineral water and rolled his eyes at her obviously curious face. ‘Two much younger brothers, twenty-three and twenty-one. A sous chef at a London Michelin-starred restaurant and a freelance photographer who sells to several national newspapers. Neither are married and they both live in London. Satisfied?’

      ‘Not nearly. Are they also buttoned-down, controlled and restrained?’

      Noah took his mineral water from the tray presented to him. He looked past her shoulder to a place that was somewhere in the past. ‘No, I stood as a shield so that they didn’t turn out like me.’

      And what on earth did he mean by that? Morgan opened her mouth to ask but he gestured to the painting and forced a small smile onto his face. ‘It looks like a multiple to me.’

      It took Morgan a minute to catch up, and when she did she cocked her head. ‘Maybe it was a really good piece of chocolate.’

      ‘Dream on,’ Noah scoffed, before he fell serious. ‘I have to admit I love this painting. I’d buy it in a heartbeat if I had enough cash floating around.’

      Morgan leaned forward and peered at the tiny, tiny price in the corner of the tag. Holy bats...that was a lot of money—even for her. Morgan stepped back and looked at the painting again...she agreed with Noah. It was a sensational piece of art: fluid, sexy, happy. She could see it on the wall above her bed...

      Sophie had had a really fine time, Morgan thought on a smile. But maybe it was time to give her a bit of privacy and get her out of the gallery.

      ‘Let’s go home,’ Morgan said impulsively.

      Noah looked at her, surprised. ‘It’s not even eight-thirty yet. And we were going to that cocktail party at the Hyatt.’

      ‘I just want to go home, have a long bath and an early night. I want to drop the cloak. I need to be me tonight.’

      ‘Sorry?’

      Morgan waved his questions away. ‘Ignore me. So, what do you think?’

      ‘Hell, no, I want to stick around and make small talk with people I don’t know.’

      Morgan laughed at his sarcasm, handed her glass over to a passing waiter and inclined her head towards Johnno. ‘I just need a quick word with the artist.’

      ‘I’ll be waiting at the door. Make it quick, Duchess.’

       EIGHT

      Back in Morgan’s apartment, Noah glanced to the other side of the couch and smiled when he saw that Morgan had shuffled down, her head on a cushion, eyes closed and her sock-covered feet touching his thigh. Noah placed his beer on the side table and glanced at his watch; it was just past nine-thirty.

      Standing up, he walked over to her and gently removed the earphones she’d plugged into her ears earlier. Her hand still loosely clutched her iPad and he pulled that away too. She liked listening to music while she read, she’d told him earlier, and wasn’t that keen on TV, so he was welcome to watch what he liked.

      Noah heard sound coming from the earphones and lifted one bud up to his ear. Instead of music, a low, melodious voice filled his ear. Frowning, he tapped the tablet and quickly realised that Morgan was listening to an audiobook, Ken Follet’s Pillars of the Earth—a book he’d read years ago and thoroughly loved.

      Noah had barely any time to react as Morgan launched up and tried to whip the tablet from his grasp. Her fingers skimmed the tablet as he moved it out of her reach.

      ‘What the hell are you doing?’ she demanded. ‘Give it back!’

      ‘Calm down, Duchess. Anyone would think you’re hiding something here.’ He grinned. ‘Erotica? How to be an It Girl manuals?’

      Morgan just glared at him, reared up and tried to take the device again.

      ‘Oooh, temper. Now, I definitely know you’re hiding something!’

      ‘Stop being an ass! Give. It. Back!’ Morgan shouted.

      ‘Nah...I want to see what you’re hiding. Bad music? Sappy movies? Your addiction to Angry Birds? Badly written cowboy books?’

      ‘Noah!’

      Noah tapped the menu and scrolled through her books. Frowning, he looked at the books on the device—there were many, and they covered a wide range of genres and subjects. But they were all audiobooks. He scrolled up, backwards, checked her files, and eventually realised that there wasn’t a single e-book anywhere on the device.

      ‘Only audiobooks, Morgs? Are you too lazy to read?’

      He saw the colour seep from her face and her eyes fill with hurt. He frowned, knowing that he had misstepped badly, but he wasn’t sure why his comment had had such an effect on her.

      ‘Just give it back, Fraser,’ Morgan said in a small voice.

      Pride and defiance now flashed in her eyes, but underneath he could still sense her embarrassment and her vulnerability.

      ‘My reading habits have nothing to do with you.’

      ‘Reports are a hassle to read.’

      ‘Can you give me a verbal report instead?’

      He rubbed his jaw. Could it be...was it possible...that Morgan couldn’t read? No, come on...everyone could read in this day and age, right? And she was so smart. There had to be another explanation.

      Morgan sat back down on the couch and stared at the floor. Instinctively he balanced himself on his haunches and pushed her hair behind her ears, gently stroking the tender skin behind her ear.

      ‘Do you have a problem with reading?’

      She didn’t reply and wouldn’t meet his eyes. He hated to ask but he needed to know. ‘Can you read...at all?’

      Morgan jolted up and looked at him, her eyes wide and horrified. ‘Of course I can read! Not well or fast, but I can read!’ She stumbled to her feet, walked across the carpet and turned to look at him, her expression belligerent. ‘Go on—say it. I dare you.’

      ‘What?’ Noah asked, genuinely confused.

      Morgan placed a hand on her cocked hip and lifted her chin. ‘I’ve heard them all, Noah—all the wisecracks, all the jokes. She’s got the looks and she’s got money—what does she need a brain for? She’s so thick that she’d get trapped on an escalator if the power went out. Quickest way to drown her? Put a mirror on the bottom of the pool—’

      ‘That’s enough. Stop.’ Noah held up his hand and kept his voice even. Who had said such brutal things about her? Whoever it was deserved a kick up the ass. It would be his pleasure to do it. ‘Come and sit down, lass,’ he said eventually, his voice gentle.

      Noah waited until Morgan had perched on the edge of the couch, her bottom lip between her teeth. He resumed his position on his haunches in front of her.

      ‘I’m not going to make fun of you, Morgan, but I do need to understand.’ Noah rested his hand on her knee. ‘Dyslexia?’

      Morgan sighed. ‘Chronic.’ She glared at him again. ‘But know this: I am not stupid, Noah. I have an exceedingly high IQ. I am not a dumb blonde.’

      ‘Anyone with half a brain can see that.’ Of course she wasn’t stupid. She had the vocabulary of a Scrabble master and a brain that could