“Yeah, I talked to him. Said he could fix it. If not, I have a contact who’ll help me. He owes me a favor.”

She raised a brow. “Why does that line make me nervous?”

Cal poured champagne into two flutes and slid one over to her. “No mob, I promise. Just a good friend who gave me one rabbit in the hat to pull. I say this situation calls for the pull.”

“Dalton may fix it, and you won’t need to use your only favor.”

“We’ll see. When it comes to my youngest brother, trust is not a word I use lightly.”

“Because of your ex-fiancée?” The words tumbled out before she was able to catch them. Heat burned her cheeks. Hadn’t she just given herself a mental pep talk about keeping things light?

He regarded her for a while before lifting the glass to his lips and taking a sip. He never took his hot gaze off her face. “Probably. It broke the trust. Then afterward he refused to tell me the truth.”

“How do you know he wasn’t telling the truth?”

“My brother is a master at putting moves on women. He’d been jealous of getting pushed aside in the business, and this was his way of getting even. It coincided with a huge fight we had. Guess he got the last laugh after all.”

“I see.” He’d finally answered one of her important questions. Cal had been so blinded by love, he’d chosen to believe his brother was the liar rather than face the truth that he’d been played. Much easier to turn all that disgust and anger toward a sibling. The closest people in life usually got the worst of the emotional carnage. What if Dalton really had been trying to tell his brother a hard truth Cal hadn’t wanted to hear? “Did you ever sit and get the full story?”

“No need. Besides, it’s the past, and we’re both tired of dredging it up. How about you? Any broken love affairs to share?”

She flinched and took a sip of champagne. The bubbles danced in her throat. Tit for tat? Morgan kept her voice light, trying to give him information without the truth. “Ex-fiancé. Elias. He was the proper Southern gentleman ready to offer me a proper Southern life. It worked well for a while until life got a bit messy.”

His gaze narrowed. How was it those light gray eyes could turn to smoky charcoal when he got all intense? “He didn’t want to stick?”

She drank more champagne and gave a tiny laugh. “Yep. He did me a favor. I would’ve been bored and stuck in a role that wasn’t for me. Now he’s married with kids and has the perfect life he dreamed of. Hurtful, but not traumatic.”

“Liar.”

Her fingers jerked over the glass. A thin trickle of champagne fell on her hand. “What?”

Cal leaned forward. “I called you a liar. It was traumatic to you for some reason. Why did he leave you?”

She forced a laugh. “I couldn’t give him something he wanted.” The words were painful to utter.

“Tell me.”

Irritation simmered. Why did he suddenly want to go deep? This was just dinner. He’d offered sex. Nothing more, nothing less. His delving into her personal life shouldn’t leave her feeling so vulnerable. “Something important to him. I really don’t want to get into it.”

His gaze settled on her mouth with raw intensity. Her skin tingled as the reminder of his lips sliding over hers hit her memory and her body. “Fair enough.” He paused. “Do relationships scare you?”

Startled, she struggled to answer. Her defenses slammed up. “Doesn’t it scare you?” she shot back.

To her surprise, he gave a half smile, refusing to retreat. “Maybe. Maybe not if I found the right woman. I’m not scared of love, Morgan. I’m scared of screwing up again with someone who doesn’t feel the same way.”

Her heart skittered in her chest, barely able to keep up her breathing. His words held a truth and an intimacy she hadn’t expected from tonight, especially so early. As if he sensed her hovering on the brink, he reached out and pushed her over.

“I’ll tell you this: he was an asshole if he wanted anything more than he wanted you.”

The words struck deep and healed her heart. The air charged with lit sexual tension. They stared at one another, gripped in a swirling cycle of need and want for connection, and Morgan ached to bury her head against his strong chest and let him hold her. Instead, she fought to get back on neutral footing.

“I had no idea we’d engage in dual therapy before dinner,” she said. “What are we having?”

After a tense moment, her breath released. He drew back, following her lead. “Porterhouse steak with a balsamic glaze. Roasted potatoes. Asparagus.”

She choked on her champagne. “Did you order out or really know how to cook this?”

Cal grinned. The boyish charm on such a masculine body was a killer combination. “I’m a good cook when I want to be. I’ve prepped most of it. Think you can help me cut up the asparagus while I check on the meat?”

“I think I can manage.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cooked or helped someone in the kitchen. The domestic scene wrapped around her with warmth. Instead of fighting it, Morgan swore to enjoy the evening.

He dropped a bag of asparagus, a cutting board, and a knife on the marble island. “Good. Oh, and on another note, I completely disagree.”

She slid the tools over to her side and began washing her hands in the prep sink. “On what?”

“Tristan interrupting us. You said it was good he stopped us from going too far.” A wolfish gleam entered his eyes. “I disagree. We haven’t gone far enough.” His voice dropped to a husky growl. “But I intend to correct that problem. Later.”

She stared at him, unable to form a word. He practically bristled with confidence and a sexual predatory scent that intoxicated her. Morgan should warn him off now. Remind him this was just about dinner and had nothing to do with dessert. Instead, she kept mute and heard his chuckle echo through the air. “Don’t worry about it now, princess. That asparagus needs your full attention.”

And with that, he stalked out of the kitchen.

Damn the man.

Yeah, he wanted her.

Bad.

Cal studied Morgan from across the table. He enjoyed watching her eat. Each movement was graceful and economical, from the way she cut her meat into perfect squares to the smooth arc of her fork lifting and disappearing into that delectable mouth.