The Heiress's Secret Romance
Martha Kennerson
From undercover lovers to happily-ever-after?Investigator Kathleen Winston’s task is clear: uncover the truth about the alleged safety violations at Kingsley Oil and Gas. But one look at ruggedly sexy VP Morgan Kingsley and her scrutiny transforms into seduction! Kathleen can’t deny their explosive chemistry during the work day…or the unbridled passion in his arms at night. But can the emotionally guarded bachelor forgive Kathleen once her identity—and her heart—are revealed?
From undercover lovers to happily-ever-after?
Investigator Kathleen Winston’s task is clear: uncover the truth about the alleged safety violations at Kingsley Oil and Gas. But one look at ruggedly sexy VP Morgan Kingsley and her scrutiny transforms into seduction! Kathleen can’t deny their explosive chemistry during the workday...or the unbridled passion in his arms at night. But can the emotionally guarded bachelor forgive Kathleen once her identity and her heart are revealed?
MARTHA KENNERSON’s love of reading and writing is a significant part of who she is, and she uses both to create the kinds of stories that touch your heart. Martha lives with her family in League City, Texas, and believes her current blessings are only matched by the struggle it took to achieve such happiness. To find out more about Martha and her journey, check out her website at www.marthakennerson.com (http://www.marthakennerson.com).
Also By Martha Kennerson (#ulink_558cd346-43e0-5dfb-9797-5a57804452df)
Protecting the Heiress
Seducing the Heiress
Tempting the Heiress
Always My Baby
An Unexpected Holiday Gift
Be My Forever Bride
The Heiress’s Secret Romance
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Heiress’s Secret Romance
Martha Kennerson
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08603-5
THE HEIRESS’S SECRET ROMANCE
© 2018 Martha Kennerson
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Morgan slowly rose from his seat. “Excuse me.” His brows snapped together, and he came out from around his desk.
Kathleen stood defiantly in front of him. “You asked me out, then, what...changed your mind or got a better offer?”
Morgan was confused, but by the scowl on Kathleen’s face he knew she believed what she was saying.
“And another thing, mister.” She used her right index finger and poked him in the chest. “You don’t say all those beautiful things to a woman and just kick her to the curb without an explanation.”
Morgan grabbed her finger and held it at his heart. “I didn’t kick you to the curb, and I certainly didn’t blow you off. You said you were leaving early and doing something with your sister this weekend. I’d say you blew me off.”
“No, I didn’t.” Kathleen stepped forward, closing the gap between them.
Morgan watched Kathleen’s face morph from anger to confusion to desire. He could see how sincere she was, and he was overwhelmed with emotions. Morgan lowered his head and gently kissed her on the lips. Kathleen slid her hands up and around his neck, pressed her body against him and moaned his name into his mouth. Morgan deepened the kiss.
Dear Reader (#ua6d577af-6ea2-5bd9-8aca-d2027141437c),
If you have read any of my books, you know how important it is that my stories come from a place of love, based in some truths, and showcase strong and sometimes unique family dynamics. I hope The Kingsleys of Texas hasn’t disappointed. So far, you have met three amazing men. Now it’s time to meet the final Texas Kingsley.
In The Heiress’s Secret Romance, Kathleen Winston is a special agent for OSHA determined to bring down the Kingsleys for perceived malfeasance against their employees. Morgan Kingsley, the second eldest of the Kingsley brothers and a proud commitmentphobe, finds himself second-guessing his thoughts on the subject after spending time with Kathleen.
I love interacting with my readers. Please let me know how you liked Morgan and Kathleen’s story. You can contact me on Facebook or Twitter, @kennersonbooks (https://twitter.com/kennersonbooks?lang=en). I hope to bring you more exciting stories of fascinating families shortly.
Until then,
Martha
I’d like to dedicate this story to all my faithful readers. If not for you I would have all these stories and characters stuck in my head with nowhere to go. Thank you for your continued support.
Acknowledgments (#ua6d577af-6ea2-5bd9-8aca-d2027141437c)
I would like to acknowledge all the survivors of Hurricane Harvey. Houston showed the world just how resilient we are.
Contents
Cover (#ua5b4cf2a-1aa4-5ebf-bd5d-69c80923acec)
Back Cover Text (#u46e512fb-d8de-58dc-8cbd-7807b54be964)
About the Author (#u85d308dc-e708-58c2-80cf-1b5f969df92b)
Booklist (#ulink_0c5d7fc7-3057-5da1-9255-af1994d7472c)
Title Page (#uc9185a38-180a-5186-8767-ff1247042cf4)
Copyright (#u78d0bab2-8971-5ed9-b4c4-1af5f388a2cc)
Introduction (#ud62d8991-ed78-5690-884f-94bc591a2e5b)
Dear Reader (#u9bd47e69-779b-5208-944c-3f68440b683d)
Dedication (#u133a9f03-ece2-5398-907c-a0889ea20ab0)
Acknowledgments (#u2a1757f6-08c6-5716-a8a5-665200d74574)
Chapter 1 (#u5be3c022-6b13-54a1-a20f-97c2b04ac8ef)
Chapter 2 (#u236ac1d2-4b3f-59b1-87f7-591dee38aad2)
Chapter 3 (#u8c239fd2-ad25-5170-ad24-518fb3e4a0ec)
Chapter 4 (#u7140f8bd-6d70-5a7a-a5b9-c5a954ca98ef)
Chapter 5 (#u04645931-e9f3-5d5a-88b1-b60fecbbc282)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ua6d577af-6ea2-5bd9-8aca-d2027141437c)
Kathleen Winston walked into her office, still in shock at how badly her meeting with her boss had gone. Twenty-nine-year-old Kathleen was an heiress to the multibillion-dollar Winston Construction fortune, but still worked as a special agent for the Occupational Safety and Health Administration. She released a string of profanity under her breath, dropping down into her chair. Kathleen turned away from the desk and looked over at the framed picture of her parents sitting on the credenza. Memories of the day her parents had sat their children down to explain their mother’s illness were very vivid. It was also the day that changed the trajectory of her life.
Hearing her mother say the words I have cancer had been a knife piercing Kathleen’s heart. She still felt as if the conversation had just taken place versus seven years earlier. Initially, Kathleen thought her parents were playing a very bad joke. At least she hoped they were. After all, their mother showed no signs of being sick. She was still strong, energetic and very beautiful. But Kathleen quickly realized how serious things were by the pained look in her father’s eyes.
Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll get them, just like I have all the others.
“What’s wrong?” a voice from behind asked.
“Everything,” she replied, immediately recognizing the speaker. “Simpson just killed my investigation into Kingsley Oil and Gas.”
“And you’re surprised? Girl, you know you can’t trust no Simpson,” Gilbert replied, laughing as he approached her desk.
Gilbert Ray was Kathleen’s assistant and best friend since they were kids. He was one of two people at her office, the only one besides her boss, who knew her background and wealth.
“What did he do now?”
Kathleen turned and faced Gilbert. She smiled at the baby-blue suit and white dress shirt he’d paired with a blue-and-white bowtie and blue-and-white loafers. Kathleen loved the fearlessness of her friend. He always knew who he was and he never cared about what others thought about him.
“My...my, don’t you look fabulous.”
“Don’t I?” He glanced down at himself. “I love that green Michael Kors camouflage dress you’re rocking too.”
“Thanks.”
“Dish—what happened at the meeting?”
“Just what I said—Simpson pulled the investigation into the Kingsleys and their company,” she explained.
Gilbert gave a nonchalant wave before he took a seat in one of the round chairs that sat in front of her desk. “Girl, I don’t know why you are tripping. You know how you beautiful, rich, bougie people do stuff like that. If you want something to go away—” he used his hands to imitate making a phone call “—like on that game show, you use a lifeline and call a friend.”
Kathleen sighed. She knew Gilbert was still upset about the way his wealthy boyfriend of nearly a year had recently ended their relationship. Kathleen sat up in her chair. “First, I know you’re still salty about what Vince did, and I hate that he made me tell you what an ass he’d been, but I couldn’t have you thinking something happened to him when he stopped returning your phone calls.”
Gilbert smacked his lips. “I know, and I love you for it.”
“Good. And I love you too. Second, I told you to stop calling me that and don’t lump me in with all bougie rich people.”
“But you are...both. Rich and high-class and you know it too.” He frowned.
“I’m a melting pot of things, and I embrace them all,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“Okay, Miss Thing. You beautiful, long haired, high-cheekbone-having, sophisticated, successful, thick-lipped melting pot you,” he teased. “You’re certainly rich, though.”
“Excuse me, Miss Winston. Mr. Ray, the postman just dropped off the mail.”
Gilbert looked over his shoulder. “You see that tray on my desk with the sign that reads Mail Here? Why don’t you drop it right there?” he asked sarcastically.
“Oh... Okay.” The young lady turned and hurried off.
“Thank you,” Kathleen yelled after her. Her eyes bored into Gilbert. “Really?”
“What?”
“Why are you so rude to that young lady?”
Gilbert shrugged. “She’s an intern.”
“And you’re acting like a mean girl. Stop it. It’s not a good look.”
“Fine.” Gilbert rose from his seat. “I’ll go buy the child a cookie or something. Speaking of buying things, when are you going to give me one of those black cards of yours and let me buy you some better chairs? Something nicer than these fake leather things you’re forcing your guests to endure. Better still, a whole new office set for us both.”
“This is a government office. We have to accept the furniture they already provided us. So deal with it.”
“At least you get to fix your office up with a few antique knickknacks and those beautiful and costly contemporary artworks that grace these ugly walls while I’m stuck out there in a world full of gray.”
“Oh please, talk about knickknacks. Your colorful accessorized cubicle brightens up the whole floor,” Kathleen complimented him, smiling.
“True. I do love all the colors in my rainbow flag.”
Kathleen laughed. “That you do.”
“What were we talking about?” He tapped his index finger against his temple. “Oh yeah, the fact that you’re rich and still hiding it.”
“No, we were talking about what Simpson did, and my father’s rich,” she corrected.
“So what do you call that mega trust fund you got when you turned twenty-five or what you’ll get at thirty?”
“My father’s legacy...not mine,” Kathleen stated expressionlessly. Her cell phone rang, and she looked at the screen. “Speaking of which...”
“You talk to him. I’m going to make a coffee run. Will you be having your usual?”
“Yes, thanks.” Kathleen answered her phone. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hello, Kathleen. How’s my beautiful daughter?” he asked in his native French.
“I’m fine, Dad. How are you?” she replied in English. The phone fell silent, but she could hear background noises, so she knew what had happened. Kathleen repeated her statement and question, only this time in French.
Kathleen’s Creole father was from the North American island of Sint Maarten. Along with her mother, the product of a Caucasian and Afro Caribbean relationship, he raised their children to speak both French and English. However, her father preferred that they converse using his native language.
“I just want to confirm that I’ll be picking you up tonight at your sister’s place.”
“We talked about this, Dad. I have a lot going on at work and I really can’t afford to—”
“What? Take a little time out to celebrate your mother’s legacy and help raise money and awareness for her foundation’s mission?”
“That’s not fair, Dad. Of course the work of our foundation is important. But so is my job. I’m helping to ensure others don’t have to go through what we did.”
“And I’m proud of you for it too. Yet you have a responsibility to your family as well,” he reminded.
Kathleen sighed. “Well, it looks like my workload has just lightened a bit, so yes, Dad, I’ll be there.”
“Good. Make sure your sister is on time. You know how she can be and I hate being late,” he stated, his voice firm.
“Yes, Dad. We know. We’ll both be ready when you get there.” Kathleen heard her boss’s voice before he appeared at her door. “Dad, I have to go. Love you, and I’ll see you later.”
Simpson stood in the door with his hands in his pockets. “The French language is beautiful.”
“Yes, it is,” she agreed.
“You didn’t have to end your call on my account,” he stated as he entered the office.
“Are you all right, Mr. Simpson?” Kathleen frowned. His gray suit was a bit wrinkled; he could use a haircut and he looked like he needed a nap.
“I haven’t been getting much sleep, and I’m not feeling well.”
“Maybe you should go see a doctor,” Kathleen suggested.
“I’m on my way now, but I wanted to tell you that I think you’re right.”
“About the Kingsleys?” Her eyebrows snapped to attention.
“Even though all the allegations of wrongdoing by the Kingsleys and their company have been proven false, and Evan Perez, the man behind the false narratives, is behind bars, this most recent accusation didn’t appear to come from anyone Perez hired. I still can’t believe he thought he could get away with trying to ruin the Kingsleys, who were basically defending themselves from his many attacks. He was the one who started their war in the first place,” Simpson offered, shaking his head and taking a seat.
“No, it did not. Mr. Silva seems credible and is not a part of some big conspiracy,” Kathleen stated with conviction. “His only concern is about the safety of his fellow employees and ensuring their company has competent leadership.”
“Yet how can we know that for sure?” Simpson challenged.
“Because he’s still around. He didn’t pull his complaint, and he’s very specific with his concerns too.”
Simpson nodded. “That’s true. Yet his motives aren’t completely unselfish.”
“Fine, he has stock options he wants to protect against bad management. There’s nothing wrong with that either. He claims the Kingsleys are putting their employees in danger because they changed leadership to someone inexperienced and inappropriate who altered policies, and their safety practices now don’t follow OSHA standards. He states these changes are putting people at risk. That’s reason enough to do an investigation. The man didn’t even ask for confidentiality.”
Kathleen remembered the detailed and painful explanation of how her mother’s former employer had exposed her to dangerous chemicals, causing her to contract such rare cancers. It had been hard to take. Hearing Mr. Silva’s concerns made Kathleen wonder what might have happened if someone from her mother’s company had spoken out against the poor conditions in which they worked. The desire to make someone pay for what happened to her mother fueled Kathleen’s desire to act. Her need for revenge became a lifeline, a reason for her to keep breathing every day. Kathleen was determined to make sure no other family would go through what they had. The Winstons lost their matriarch within a year of that conversation.
“How long has he worked for the Kingsleys?”
Kathleen reached for the file that sat on her desk. “Let’s see.” She flipped through the pages. “Ten years.”
“It’s only one complaint, but all things considered it would be prudent to do a cursory and very discreet investigation at least. With everything this family has gone through we have got to be careful.”
“I can do that,” she promised, clapping her hands. “Be discreet and careful, I mean.”
“I’m serious, Kathleen. You have to go in under the radar and if—and that’s a big if—you find anything, then we will bring in the cavalry. I know you’re a professional, but you have to make sure your personal feelings and family history of dealing with bad chemical companies don’t interfere with you getting the job done...the right job.”
“I won’t,” she promised.
“Now, how do you propose to do that?”
“I can go in as one of our policy trainers. Offer them our free services. That always works and will give me access to one of the areas he’s complaining about too, not to mention free rein with their staff.”
Simpson shook his head. “They train their people themselves. Hell, we even sent some of our trainers to their sessions.”
Kathleen tapped her fingers on the desk. “They don’t have the new regulatory updates yet. I could offer to go in specifically to talk about them and help update their training materials.”
“That might work, but I still need to sweeten the tea.” Simpson reached into his pocket, pulled out a Kleenex and wiped his forehead.
“‘Sweeten the tea’?” Kathleen held back her laughter. She always found Simpson’s use of colloquialisms amusing. “Why?”
“The Kingsleys have been through hell this last year, and if we’re wrong we both could be out of jobs,” he informed her, concern written all over his face.
“I’m not wrong, and if I am, I deserve to lose my job.”
“Easy for you to say, Kathleen. You’ve been here seven years, and you come from money. I put in over fifteen years at this agency, and I can’t afford to lose my job,” Simpson stressed.
Kathleen came from around her desk and leaned against its edge in front of him. She reached for his hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “You won’t. I promise. Mr. Silva has no connection to Mr. Perez. There have been a couple of recent changes in their senior management team and policies that have been altered that raised a few eyebrows in the industry. All these changes could be legitimate, but we won’t know that for sure unless we check into it. Now how do we sweeten the tea?”
“I’m going to offer our services as a form of an apology for all the false accusations they’ve had to endure from government agencies as a whole. Show it as a positive PR move on both our parts.”
“Do you think that will work?” Kathleen asked, feeling hopeful.
“I guess we’ll see.” Simpson stood. “I’ll let you know after I give their company’s chairman of the board and family matriarch, Victoria Kingsley, a call on my way to the doctor’s.”
“Great. I hope you feel better.”
“Talk soon,” Simpson said, walking out the office.
The moment the door closed, Kathleen stood in the middle of her office and did a happy dance. “I’m coming for you, Kingsley.”
Chapter 2 (#ua6d577af-6ea2-5bd9-8aca-d2027141437c)
Morgan Kingsley, the twenty-nine-year-old VP of field operations for Kingsley Oil and Gas, walked into the plant’s cafeteria, rubbing his hands together with one thing on his mind: food. It was a room designed to make the Kingsley employees feel at ease and have a sense of home. With all the hours they all spent there away from their families, the Kingsleys felt the least they could do was make sure their employees were comfortable doing their downtime.
He walked into the brightly lit tan-and-white room, which offered various types of wood-and-steel tables paired with large cream leather folding chairs, to find his plant manager, Adrian Jones, standing in the buffet line.
“What are you doing here so early on a Friday, boss?” Adrian asked.
Morgan picked up a tray and plate and surveyed his choices. “I’m about to have breakfast.”
“I can see that,” Adrian replied, accepting a plate with an omelet from one of the craft service members.
“Lately you’ve only been around for lunch or dinner.”
Skipping the special-order omelet line, Morgan filled his plate with eggs, bacon and pancakes. “Yeah, well, now that all those bogus investigations are over and that bastard Perez is behind bars, I can stay at my own place here and come right to the plant every day and enjoy some of the best breakfast in town.”
After spending a few moments at the juice-and-coffee bar, both men made their way to a vacant table. “Cool,” Adrian replied, pouring syrup over his stack of pancakes. “You’re wearing overalls and work boots. Where are you working today?”
“Maintenance is shorthanded, and I don’t want my welders falling behind.” Morgan reached for his glass of juice.
“I can pull a couple of people from the south bins to help out.”
“That’s not necessary. Ernest and I can handle it.” Morgan popped a piece of bacon in his mouth.
“Someone call my name?” Ernest Walker, the plant’s maintenance director, asked, approaching the table, holding a tray of dirty dishes.
Adrian and Ernest shook hands. “I hear you got the boss doing some heavy lifting today.”
“He can handle it,” Ernest insisted.
“Damn right,” Morgan agreed, diving into his food.
“There you are,” a small, gray-haired woman called out as she approached the table, wiping her hands with her apron.
Morgan and Adrian rose from their seats. “Good morning, Ms. Monica,” all three men greeted. Ms. Monica, as everyone called her, was the sixty-year-old craft service manager and head chef who had worked for the Kingsleys for nearly thirty years. She was like a grandmother to all the Kingsley boys and pretty much everyone else too.
Ms. Monica was just one of the many reasons Morgan was so happy to have the Perez fiasco behind his family and their business. The plant, located just outside of Port Arthur, Texas, and their oil rigs were his safe haven. The death of his father and uncle were beyond difficult, but his extended family at their plant made growing up without them a bit more bearable.
Often, their mother’s love could be suffocating, so when she finally allowed them to spend time at the plant with a few people she trusted who weren’t bodyguards, Morgan relished those moments. The plant became his second home and he was fiercely protective of it too.
“We need to talk about the menu that nutritionist lady sent over the other day.”
“What’s wrong with the menu, Ms. Monica?” Morgan pulled out a chair for her.
Ms. Monica took the seat. “Nothing’s wrong with it. Your mother was right. Healthier, balanced diets are something we should all strive for. None of us are getting any younger, you know. In fact, nearly half the folks working have been here since the doors opened. It’s just going to be too much money buying so many organic vegetables from that company they recommended. I know where we can get everything we need for much less money. I know y’all rich and all, but it never hurts nobody to save a little money.”
Morgan laughed. “You are so right, Ms. Monica, and I appreciate how you look after us—”
“But...” She crossed her arms.
“We have some pretty solid agreements with a number of vendors. Agreements that my mother negotiated personally.”
Ms. Monica laughed. “Well, in that case, I’m sure Victoria got you a rock-bottom price.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m sure she did.”
“Well, I better get back to my kitchen. It’ll be time to serve lunch before I know it. Speaking of lunch, my friend’s beautiful daughter—”
“Ms. Monica, we’ve talked about this already.” Morgan helped her out of her chair. Here we go again. I really wish everyone would stop trying to fix me up. Can’t a brother just get back to work and enjoy the fact that no one is coming after us for one thing or another? “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need help getting dates.”
“I’m not trying to help you get hooked up with some hussy,” Ms. Monica said and playfully swatted at his hand. Morgan pressed his lips together, preventing his laugh from escaping. “I’m trying to help you find a nice girl you can marry.”
“Ms. Monica—”
“And not like that gold digger Bonnie Ford,” she continued talking, shaking her head as if he hadn’t said a word. “I still can’t believe she tried to use your relationship to advance her family’s business interest. Ridiculous! Compared to your family’s other refineries, that small oil refinery of theirs would look like one of those ugly hateful stepsisters standing next to the beautiful princess. Not to mention all the times he’s filed for bankruptcy.”
“It was a long time ago,” he replied, still feeling a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Morgan had no idea that his three-year, loving relationship with Bonnie—at least he’d thought it was loving—had meant so little to her. He certainly didn’t know her and her parents’ only agenda for them was to forge a business empire between their families.
“That’s my point. It’s time for you to stop playing with all these silly little girls and find a woman with some substance. It’s time you found yourself a wife.”
Morgan checked his watch. “Look at the time. I should get over to the shop.”
“Fine, go, but we are not done with this discussion, young man,” she insisted, walking toward the kitchen.
Yes, we are. The last thing I need is a wife.
Ms. Monica was like family and Morgan knew she meant well, but he was happy with his life just the way it was. Sexually satisfying liaisons with temporary companions and keeping his heart protected from another bad break suited him just fine. Morgan threw his trash away and set his dishes in the collection pans. He walked toward the exit when his cell phone rang. “Hey, what’s up, A?” Morgan answered, stopping shy of the exit.
“China’s in labor,” Alexander, Morgan’s elder brother and CEO of Kingsley Oil and Gas, replied.
“Oh. Snap. Is China all right?”
“She’s...emotional but strong,” Alexander replied.
“That she is,” Morgan agreed.
“And beautiful...so damn beautiful,” Alexander murmured.
Morgan heard something in his brother’s voice, something unfamiliar. Fear maybe. “Are you okay, A?”
“Yeah, but I could use some backup,” he admitted.
“I’m on the way.”
“You sure, Morgan?”
“I’m sure. Where am I coming?”
“Woman’s Hospital. Thanks, man.”
Morgan could hear the relief in his brother’s voice. “I’ll take the chopper and see you in about an hour.”
Morgan put his phone away, pivoted and walked toward another exit, one that would get him to his car the fastest. He still couldn’t believe another Kingsley would be arriving soon. Now Morgan had two brothers with children, something he never thought he’d see—so soon, anyway—and briefly wondered if that was a journey he’d ever take.
* * *
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Kathleen grumbled that night, trying to sit still in the makeup artist’s chair. She was anxious to find out if the Kingsley investigation would move forward and kept thinking about all the things that needed to be done before she could get started.
“Like you could go to the Irene Winston Cancer Foundation gala with Dad and me looking like—”
“Like what, Hannah, myself?”
“No, not you. Not the real you, anyway. Maybe a more sedated you,” her younger sister conceded.
“I work in the real world where all this excess is not necessary and frowned upon. Just because I don’t walk around looking like a glam goddess like you, little sister, Miss TV Chef, doesn’t mean I don’t look good.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t. What I am saying is that you need to showcase all of our mother’s wonderful gifts. The high cheekbones, seductive eyes and—” she ran her hands through her own hair “—all this thick beautiful black hair.”
“Hannah, you sound like a beauty commercial,” Kathleen said, laughing. “Why aren’t Wesley and Kennedy going to this thing tonight?”
“You know our big brother and sister are workaholics just like you. They’re out of town on business. Plus they’re always at these things. Our foundation’s charity events usually have us traveling all over the country. Since this one was local, right in your backyard, we figured you could step up for once,” Hannah explained.
“For once?”
“Yes, Kathleen. You rarely make an appearance to any of our social events, be they personal or charitable.”
Kathleen bit her lip. “I like my privacy. Besides, my job—”
“Has nothing to do with your family. Stop hiding behind it.”
“I’m not,” she murmured, knowing her sister was right. Kathleen had enjoyed attending their charitable functions just as much as her sister until their mother got sick. Her mother’s illness and trying to find ways to deal with her anger became her focus.
“Whatever. Which dress do you want to wear? They’re both Versace.” Hannah held up a black, low-backed lace gown in one hand and a red, strapless, flowing gown with a high split in the other. “If I were you—”
“I’ll take the black one, please.”
“Red, it is,” Hannah replied. “You need to show off your banging body and gorgeous face if you want to catch a worthy man.”
“I’m not looking for a worthy man, Hannah.”
“You should be. You’re twenty-nine and haven’t had a man since college.”
“I’ve been focusing on my career. Making a difference in people’s lives is important to me. I don’t need any unnecessary distractions.”
“You can still fight your crusade and have a man too. You’d be amazed what great sex can do for a working woman’s disposition.”
Kathleen rolled her eyes. “My temperament is just fine, thank you very much. Anyway, I don’t think there are many men out there like Dad. It would take someone pretty substantial to get me to deviate from my course.”
“You won’t know until you try and find one,” she said challengingly.
“I don’t see you running to the altar with Peter.”
“And you won’t. We’ve outlived our usefulness for each other,” Hannah explained, picking up a comb, running it through her hair and admiring her own beautiful makeup job.
“What? When did that happen?”
“That’s a story for another time. You look fabulous.” Hannah turned and hugged her makeup artist. “Lisa, you are amazing.”
“Thank you, but you both offer a beautiful canvas for my work. I’ll see you on the set in the morning. Have a good night, ladies,” Lisa said before walking out the door.
“The set?” Kathleen frowned. “I didn’t know you were working.”
“They booked a couple of promos for me while I’m in town. Houston’s one of my biggest markets,” she declared proudly.
Kathleen’s phone beeped. She reached for it and read the message. A huge smile crawled across her face. Kathleen had just received the go-ahead to go after the Kingsleys. She felt giddy. Like she’d just found out that her favorite book was being turned into a movie. Her boss might believe the Kingsleys were innocent but her gut wouldn’t let her join that bandwagon just yet and Kathleen always followed her gut.
“Good news?” Hannah asked.
Curiosity was written all over her sister’s face. “The best. I just got my new assignment.”
“Oh. Here.” Hannah handed Kathleen the red dress, brushing off her news. “Put this one on with the sexy red-and-gold Versace heels I pulled out.”
“What are you wearing?”
“Versace, of course, only my dress is a deeper red.” Hannah gave her sister a Cheshire cat smile.
“If I didn’t know that your IQ was as high as mine or that you were a beast when it came to cooking, I’d swear you were a spoiled, rich woman enamored by the trappings of your lifestyle,” Kathleen stated.
Hannah shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with me enjoying the fruits of Dad’s and my own labor. Anyway, most of my wardrobe comes to me free.”
“Yes, I keep forgetting. People actually want to see you in their clothes.”
Kathleen walked into her sister’s oversize dressing room, dropped her robe and stepped into the gown her sister had selected. It fit her perfectly, accentuating all of her physical assets. Kathleen stared in the full-length mirror and smiled. Her light eyes sparkled, the makeup highlighted her golden-bronze skin beautifully, her black hair full of curls. Kathleen was thankful her hair was pulled up and out of her face.
She hadn’t seen the woman staring back at her in quite some time. Not only did she look like a younger, slightly darker version of her mother, which made her both happy and sad, she rarely wore makeup or such fancy clothes anymore. Kathleen only cared about stopping companies from hurting their employees and making the bad guy pay, and she didn’t care how she looked doing it. Her heartbeat increased, and she had to fight back her tears. She knew her sister would kill her if she messed up her makeup.
“Ready or not, I’m coming in,” Hannah called out before walking into the room. “Oh wow, sis. You look divine...and just like Mom.”
Kathleen swallowed hard. The fact that her job didn’t require her to dress up was only one reason she didn’t like to do it. The other was because it reminded her of just how much she missed her mother. Hannah was right. Irene Winston had blessed her daughters with her beauty.
“So do you,” Kathleen replied, smiling at Hannah through the mirror. She turned to face her sister. “I’d say we could pass for twins, except your dress leaves little to the imagination with such a low cut in the front.”
Hannah turned around. “And the back,” she added, smiling.
Both women laughed. “You are a mess, Hannah.”
“I know. Here you go.” Hannah handed her sister a black velvet box.
“What’s this?” Kathleen’s eyebrows snapped together.
“Just a few accessories,” she explained.
Kathleen opened the box and her breath caught in her throat. “Oh no, I’m not wearing these.” She quickly closed the box and tried to hand it back to her sister. It was like the box held a deadly secret or something. It was one more thing bringing up emotions she was trying to keep buried. The loss of her mother might have fueled her career, but personally it was something she’d never completely dealt with.
“Will you stop being silly? We don’t have time to go by your house and get yours so you’ll just have to borrow my set tonight.”
“That would be a waste of trip since my set isn’t at my house,” she murmured.
Kathleen heaved a sigh and slowly opened the box as if she’d expected the million-dollar diamond-and-ruby choker and matching stud earrings had disappeared. They had each gotten a set when they’d turned twenty-one. Their father had showered them with jewelry their whole lives. He told them it brought him joy especially since their mother was no longer around to buy things for and spoil.
That was another example as to why Kathleen didn’t waste her time dating. There were too many ideals a man would have to live up to, and spoiling her had nothing to do with it. It was the unconditional love that made them want to do such nice and extravagant things for one another. Kathleen just knew that type of love would be hard to find.
“Don’t tell me something happened to yours.” Fear crossed Hannah’s face. “Dad’s going to be heartbroken.”
Kathleen frowned at Hannah as she reached for the earrings. “Don’t be silly. Most of my jewelry is in my safety deposit box. I only keep a few pieces in my home safe.” She removed the necklace from the box and placed it around her neck.
“Why not keep all your stuff in your home safe?”
“Because it’s not like I wear so much jewelry every day.”
“Good point.” Hannah adjusted her diamond necklace. “How’s work going anyway? I know you can’t tell me who you’re going after but whoever it is had better watch out.”
Kathleen smiled. She had gone up against some powerful people in her career and while ambition had never been a motivating factor for Kathleen, she knew bringing down the Kingsleys would be a big feather in her career cap. “Let’s just say it’s a really big fish that I can’t wait to catch and fry.”
“You go, girl. Ready? I just got a text. Dad’s here, and you know how he feels about being late.” Kathleen heard her phone beep. She knew she’d just received the same message. “You ready to spend your Friday night with Dad?”
“I might as well be.” Kathleen gave herself one final look in the mirror and smiled. She knew how much her mother had loved to dress up and that she’d be really happy right now. “Let’s go celebrate Mom and raise a lot of money for cancer research.” Tomorrow I’ll start the process of bringing down another company that won’t make the safety of their employees a priority.
Chapter 3 (#ua6d577af-6ea2-5bd9-8aca-d2027141437c)
After an eventful weekend, Morgan walked into the plant’s operations director’s office, drinking from his travel mug, to find his mother standing in the middle of the room looking out the window. She was wearing a blue pantsuit that showed off how physically fit she was, emphasizing the fact that age was nothing but a number. Her bag sat on the desk next to her personalized hard hat.
“Mother, what are you doing here?” Morgan asked, checking his watch. His mother wasn’t exactly a morning person these days, so he was trying not to let her unexpected visit concern him, but the last couple of times she’d surprised him it had been to share bad news.
Morgan was actually looking forward to getting back to work and focusing on expanding into new territories—all the things he’d been working on before Perez entered into their lives. Still reeling from the excitement of the weekend, the birth of another Kingsley and seeing how happy his brothers were, Morgan was actually considering taking Ms. Monica up on her offer to introduce him to her friend’s daughter. Although he knew that particular thought would soon pass.
Victoria turned and faced Morgan. “Good morning, son. I realize we’ve had an exciting weekend and that you might be a little out of sorts on this bright Monday morning, but I’m sure you haven’t forgotten the appropriate way to greet your mother.”
Morgan sighed and placed his cup on the desk next to his mother’s hat. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “My apologies. Good morning, and to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Is everything good with Baby A?” His heart skipped several beats at the thought that something could be wrong with his new nephew. Morgan never imagined that something so small could knock him off balance and make him feel so much.
Victoria’s face lit up with pride. “Alexander the third is wonderful,” she reassured, smiling, taking a seat in front of the desk. “I’m here because with all the excitement around little Alexander’s birth this weekend I failed to mention that you’ll be receiving a visitor today.”
“A visitor?” He reached for his coffee.
“Yes. I got a call Friday afternoon from another one of my well-placed sources in our state government offering me a few olive branches so to speak for all the trouble we’ve...our company had to endure this last year.”
“Oh, really, what type of olive branch?” Morgan questioned, narrowing his eyes while the hairs on the back of his neck rose. At this point Morgan didn’t trust anyone from any government agency.
“The only one you need to worry about is the one from OSHA. They’re sending one of their trainers to update our material and orientate our employees on some new regulatory updates.”
“They’re what?” Morgan frowned. Why in the hell would I need or want to use any of their trainers?
“You heard me, son.”
Morgan went around the desk and dropped down in the chair. He knew better than to argue with his mother about the decisions she made for the company, especially those that might have political ramifications. He had to pick his words carefully.
“Do you really want someone from any government agency in our business after everything we’ve been through? I certainly don’t. I can send a couple of our trainers for a train-the-trainer session and they can come back and train everyone else here. You realize they send their trainers to our training center for a number of different programs we conduct?” he reminded his mother, trying to keep his annoyance under control.
“I do, son, and while that sounds like a great idea, unfortunately I’ve already agreed and given my word.”
Morgan gave his head a quick shake. “When will they get here?”
Victoria gave a nonchalant shrug. “I have no idea. All I know is that they arrive today.”
Morgan grabbed his cup and took a sip. “I’ll listen to what they have to offer, but if it’s not up to our standards, the ones you set, I’ll send them packing.”
Victoria rose from her seat and smiled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Now, let’s go.” She reached for her hard hat.
Morgan stood. “Where are we going?”
“To talk to some of the line staff. It’s been a while since I’ve been out here. I’d like to see a few people. Just deliver me to Adrian, and you can wait for our guest in his office.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Morgan offered her his arm, and they walked out of the office.
* * *
Kathleen arrived at the Kingsley plant close to ten, much later than she would have liked thanks to an unexpected traffic jam on the freeway. She was impressed by the level of security just to gain entrance to the property and the plant itself, although part of her wondered if that was a sign that the Kingsleys were trying to hide something. Kathleen exited her vehicle, pulled out her roller bag and purse and made her way to the guard’s stand.
“Good morning, ma’am. May I help you?” one of the three guards greeted.
“Yes.” Kathleen pulled out her ID and flashed it to the guard. “I’m Kathleen Winston from OSHA, and I’m here to conduct some training sessions.”
“One moment.” The officer reached for his phone at the same time Kathleen’s rang. She checked the screen and saw that it was her father calling. Instead of answering she sent him to voice mail.
The guard handed Kathleen a visitor’s badge. “You’ll need to keep this on you at all times. Please follow me. May I help you with your bag?”
“No, thanks. I have it.”
Kathleen followed her escort over to a small truck. He handed her a hard hat. “You need to put this on.” He gave her the once over, and the corners of his mouth turned down as he nodded.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s just most of our female visitors don’t think to wear sensible shoes like the ones you’re wearing.”
Kathleen looked down, past the conservative black suit and white blouse she wore to the black leather loafers on her feet, and laughed. “This isn’t my first time working in a plant.” She got in the truck and watched the guard load her things while she put on the hat. Kathleen was glad she’d remembered to put her hair in a low, tight bun when she got dressed.
“My name is Van, ma’am,” the guard stated as he got in the truck behind the wheel.
“Pleased to meet you,” she replied, smiling.
Van gave Kathleen a map of the plant in the form of a brochure before giving her the layout as he drove around the outskirts. He highlighted the major points of interest. Van explained that she’d have to have an escort to each location.
“Will you be that escort?”
“No, ma’am. That will either be the plant manager, Adrian Jones, or someone he assigns.”
Kathleen had done her research and she knew all the names of the key staff and the positions they held at the plant; however, several of their photos hadn’t been available. She especially found it surprising how little she was able to find out about the Kingsleys. Yes, there was a great deal of detail about their recent troubles, their financial fortune and of course their family’s matriarchs, but minimal information beyond tabloid gossip was available about the personal lives of the heirs.
They drove toward a large one-story white building with the Kingsley name on it. “Is that where I’m going?”
“At some point I’m sure. That’s the administrative building where you’ll find the training center. However, I was told to bring you to the plant manager’s office.”
They rode in silence through the middle of the plant on what was a main street, and Kathleen was surprised to see a five-story glass office building surrounded by several other equally impressive buildings of varying sizes positioned in the center of the plant. Wow. You can’t judge a book by its cover but this place is pretty great. “This plant is like a small town.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet. The Kingsleys take good care of their people.” They pulled into an assigned parking space and exited the truck.
I’ll keep that in mind.
Kathleen collected her things and followed Van into the building where another security guard met them. Before the guard could offer a greeting, a tall Hispanic man wearing jeans and a white button-down shirt with Kingsley Oil and Gas monogrammed above his left shirt pocket said, “Good morning, Ms. Winston. I’m Paz Villarreal, operations manager.” He offered her his hand.
“Pleased to meet you,” she replied, accepting his callus-riddled hand, and smiled.
“Thanks, I got it,” he told the officer from his building as he patted him on the back. “Thanks, Van, I got it from here. You can get back to your post.”
He nodded. “Thank you, Van,” Kathleen said.
“No problem, ma’am.”
“May I help you with your bag?” Paz offered.
“No, thank you. I’m fine. We passed your training center coming in. Will I not be working there?”
“Eventually.” They walked over to the elevator and took the short ride up to the fifth floor. He led her past a small waiting area and down a long hall with offices on each side. They came to the end of the hall and stood in front of a door with a sign that read Operations Administration. Paz opened the door and stood aside as Kathleen entered. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected. The waiting area had two low-back leather sofas sitting against the left and right walls with framed blueprints of the plant hanging above them. An expensive Persian rug covered the slate floors, and a long fish tank filled the back wall.
“Very nice.”
Paz laughed. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Follow me.” He led her toward a door in the corner.
Kathleen’s forehead creased. “No receptionist?”
“It’s not necessary. You can’t get up here without an escort unless you’re an employee or a Kingsley.” He led her through the door.
Time to get to work. “I was wondering, are they here often...the Kingsleys?” She gave him a half smile.
“Sure.”
“How involved are they with the staff? I mean, do they spend much time with the employees? What do they do while they’re here?” Kathleen tried not to sound like she was going down a checklist but she knew she was failing in that effort. She prayed her face didn’t show how unsettled she was. It was not as if this was the first time she had to come into a facility incognito to find out what was going on, but something felt different about this one. Her boss was right—the Kingsleys were a big deal—and she couldn’t mess this up. Kathleen knew the outcome of her investigation could have far-reaching ramifications.
Paz looked at Kathleen as if she was speaking a foreign language and he didn’t understand a word she was saying. “They work just like the rest of us,” he replied, frowning.
They walked down another corridor, passing several more offices until they made it to the large double doors at the end of the hall. “You can wait in here, and Mr. Jones will be right with you.” Paz opened the door, and Kathleen walked in, stopping before she could get more than a foot into the room.
“Back again, Adrian?” a baritone voice said, sending an unfamiliar chill down Kathleen’s spine. The sound came from a olive-skinned man with a short haircut and a fine beard. His long jean-clad legs were propped up on the desk, and he was reading through what appeared to be a report. When he raised his head, and Kathleen caught his gaze, his hazel eyes rendered her mute. Kathleen’s throat was suddenly dry, and she blinked rapidly. The short-sleeved white shirt he wore with the company’s logo on the pocket accentuated his wide chest and big arms.
“Oh my,” she whispered to herself. Kathleen had seen handsome men before, but this man was unlike any of those. The ruggedly handsome gentleman sitting before her looked like someone from one of the old black-and-white Westerns she and her mother used to enjoy watching together. Her mother would tell Kathleen, “That’s what a man’s man is, darling,” when one appeared on the screen. Today was the first time she’d seen one in person, and the thought made Kathleen smile.
* * *
Morgan slowly lowered his papers to the desk, brought his feet to the floor and stood. He felt like his whole body was moving in slow motion. Morgan had seen beautiful women before, but the exquisite creature standing in front of him was different. Her heart-shaped face and flawless skin was mostly makeup free. She appeared to be a foot or so shorter than Morgan; her smile was faint but stunning, and while she tried to cover her perfectly shaped body in conservative clothes, Morgan could see that she had curves in all the right places that called out to him, and his body was responding. It was something that never happened by the sight of a woman.
Damn!
Paz stepped forward. “This is Kathleen Winston. Kathleen, this is—”
He raised his left hand and waved him off. Morgan hadn’t heard anything beyond her name. What he didn’t recognize were the emotions she had provoked in him. He felt warm, he couldn’t seem to focus and he had a sudden desire to touch her. He’d heard about this happening before, only he was usually watching from the sideline of his brothers’ lives.
Morgan quickly righted himself. “You must be the trainer from OSHA,” Morgan forced out, extending his hand. “I’m—”
“Yes,” Kathleen interrupted, offering her hand.
Morgan felt a spark as he gave her small, delicate hand a shake. Get it together. “Excuse the calluses.”
Kathleen smiled, sending another spark through his body, the sweet scent she was wearing attacking his senses. “No problem.” She freed her hand.
“May I?” She gestured toward one of the two large leather wingback chairs that sat in front of the mahogany wood desk.
“Please.”
Morgan returned to his seat and watched as Kathleen quickly removed four medium-sized binders from her bag and placed them on the desk. He told himself he would listen to what she had to say, but he would send her away as soon as she read her last page. There was no way in hell this beautiful woman could teach anything to his men. They wouldn’t be able to concentrate. He sure as hell couldn’t right then.
Kathleen removed her electronic tablet from her bag and turned it on. She handed Morgan a binder and said, “I’ve taken the liberty of highlighting a few deficiencies in your training program.”
“Deficiencies?” Morgan sat forward and opened the binder, feeling annoyed by her assumption in spite of being so turned on by her presence.
“The first tab has my résumé and all my credentials and certifications. If you look behind the second tab, you’ll find my recommendations for improvement,” Kathleen explained.
“That was mighty presumptuous of you, considering the state uses our material as part of its training program.” He hardened his expression as he glanced down at the pages.
“Not really. It’s my job to ensure all safety protocols are adhered to regardless of whose name is on the building.
“I—”
“Look, I’m sure you’re loyal to the Kingsley family.” She shook her head as if that was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard.
“You have no idea,” Morgan replied.
“However there are some things where loyalty isn’t a part of the equation.”
That was when Morgan realized she had no idea who she was talking to. He remembered that she’d launched into her presentation before he had a chance to introduce himself. She’s arrogant and another know-it-all when it comes to my family. “In my mind and my family’s, loyalty is everything.”
“This isn’t about you or your family. Making improvements to your systems is about protecting you and your coworkers. Shall I continue?” Kathleen’s eyebrows stood at attention.
The girl’s got spunk. The way her eyes bored into him was wreaking havoc on his system. Morgan folded his arms across his chest. “Please.”
Chapter 4 (#ua6d577af-6ea2-5bd9-8aca-d2027141437c)
Morgan sat back and watched Kathleen make her presentation as he flipped through the pages of her binder ahead of her. He tried to focus on her words, but her green-gold eyes and luscious lips scrambled his brain. Only a few phases broke through the fog of annoyance and attraction, one of which he had to address.
“Wait, did you say we need to switch from our computer-based training program to a more group-based, interactive one?” That’s not going to happen. “The industry, the world for that matter, is moving more toward digital and you want us to pull back.”
“Yes, statistics show people respond better in a working group setting like the one I’m recommending. They learn from their peers, and it strengthens relationships between coworkers.”
Morgan dropped his hands. “My team already works well together. They don’t need a feel-good session to make them better at their job.” He closed the binder. “Stick to the regulatory updates, and I’ll make sure our systems are brought current based on those changes.”
Kathleen raised her chin and held his gaze. “While I appreciate your opinion, it doesn’t count, Mr. Jones.”
“What do we have here?” Victoria asked as she entered the office with Adrian on her heels. She placed her hat back on the desk.
Morgan and Kathleen got to their feet. “Victoria Kingsley, meet Kathleen Winston, the trainer OSHA sent.”
Victoria extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you, and welcome to Kingsley Oil and Gas. I take it things are going well.”
“Not exactly,” Morgan stated.
* * *
Unfortunately, thanks to Mr. Tall, Handsome and Too-Damn-Sexy-for-His-Own-Good.
“Miss Winston seems to think we should abandon our tried-and-true computer-based training in favor of her more interactive-type program,” Morgan explained. His jaw tightened.
Kathleen glared at Morgan before turning her attention to Victoria. “It’s not my program, and I didn’t suggest you abandon your computer-based training altogether—just adjust it a bit.”
“A bit.” Morgan pointed to the binders that sat on his desk. “According to the data in your unnecessarily long, although well-put-together, presentation, you recommend we cut our program by fifty percent.”
“And replace it with a more productive method of training,” she countered.
“Says you.” Morgan crossed his arms.
“Says several experts. How did you even see that? We haven’t even gotten to that section yet.” Kathleen made her annoyance clear. She thought he was acting like a petulant child.
I bet you stomp your feet and hold your breath, too, if a woman doesn’t drop to her knees on command. Oh, my goodness. Where the hell did that come from, Kathleen?
“I’m good at multitasking, and I pay attention to details.”
Another warm sensation ran through her body. “I bet you do,” she murmured.
Victoria laughed as she reached for her buzzing phone. “Well, I see you have everything under control, son.” She started reading her incoming text.
“‘Son’?” Kathleen’s forehead creased; she was clearly shocked by the revelation. “I thought you were the plant manager.”
“No, that would be me,” another man replied, raising his right hand.
Victoria placed her hands on her hips. “Morgan Kingsley, did you not properly introduce yourself to this young woman?”
“I tried, but she launched right into her presentation. I think she was a bit awestruck.” Morgan smirked.
Kathleen’s left eyebrow rose. “As were you,” she snapped back before she could stop herself.
“Touché,” Morgan acknowledged.
“Enough.” Victoria picked up her bag and hard hat. “I have to get back to Houston.”
Morgan dropped his hands. “I’ll see you out, Mother.”
“No, Adrian will. You and Miss Winston are going to get to work.” Victoria turned and faced Kathleen. “While I appreciate your input and we will take your recommendations under advisement, we will continue to do what we feel is best for our company. If you can’t accept that, I have to rescind my offer to allow your presence at my plant.”
That can’t happen. “Yes, of course. I understand,” she replied nervously.
“Good, now pass me one of those binders, and I’ll read through it on the ride home.”
Nice going, Kathleen—you almost get yourself kicked out of here before you can even get started. Kathleen handed Victoria a binder and watched as she kissed her son goodbye and left. She had heard and read a great deal about Victoria Kingsley but nothing compared to meeting her in person. While she was very firm and definitive in regard to her business, watching her maternal interactions with her son was something clearly not many got to witness. She felt honored.
“Well, I guess that’s that.” Kathleen started packing up her bag. “I’ll focus on the regulatory changes as you requested, Mr. Kingsley.”
Kathleen watched the handsome Kingsley drop his shoulders and lean against his desk. The closer he got to Kathleen, the more out of control she felt. Kathleen knew she had to bring her wayward mind and body under control. He was part of her investigation, after all.
“It’s Morgan, and if you prefer you can conduct your sessions using your interactive method. If the team is receptive to the idea, I’ll consider incorporating your way into some of our program.”
Kathleen offered up a small smile. “Was that too hard?”
“Not at all. I can be a reasonable man when I want to be, Miss Winston.”
“I guess we’ll find out just how reasonable you are when you attend my class, and please call me Kathleen.”
“All right, Kathleen, but I have no intention of attending your class,” he said matter-of-factly.
Kathleen felt a slow smile spread across her face. “Why? Are you afraid you just might learn something and realize my method is better than the program you so covet?”
“Not at all.” His face went blank, and he held her gaze.
Kathleen dropped her eyes and reached for her rolling bag. “Shall I get started?”
“Absolutely.”
Morgan came from around the desk and reached for Kathleen’s bag. “I got it,” she said.
“I insist,” he replied as he placed his large hand over hers.
Kathleen felt a spark that wasn’t electrical and quickly pulled her hand back. You have got to get it together. “Fine.”
“And if I may suggest...you are open to suggestions, right?”
Annoyed by the sarcasm, Kathleen rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course.”
“You should lose whatever that perfume is you’re wearing. The men might find it distracting if you want them to focus on your class. Don’t worry—they’d never be inappropriate.”
“I’m not, and I know the drill. Besides, I’m not wearing perfume,” Kathleen explained, walking toward the door.
Morgan stepped in her path, preventing Kathleen from moving forward. He stared into her eyes and said, “If you’re not wearing perfume, then it’s you. All you,” he concluded, his voice low and husky.
Kathleen felt light-headed. She thought for a moment that somehow all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Focus, Kathleen.
“I want my men to concentrate on the training and not the trainer,” he continued.
Kathleen pushed her shoulders back and raised her chin defiantly. “Maybe it’s you with the concentration problem. Every consider leading by example?” She stepped around him and walked out the door.
* * *
Kathleen’s first day wasn’t as difficult as she’d imagined. It was just the opposite. Everyone was extremely nice but not in a sucking-up type of way, either. The assistance offered to Kathleen no matter where she went or what she requested was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to help. Even her initial class, in which she’d expected to receive pushback, especially from the more seasoned staff, went well. Everyone appeared open to the training, and some were even excited about the opportunity to explore her new methods. Other than that initial hiccup in the office that morning, she had a good day. Kathleen still couldn’t get over the effect Morgan Kingsley had on her mind and body. Her attraction to him was an unexpected hurdle she had to get over. The jury was still out on Morgan and his company.
While Kathleen had limited access to the Kingsley systems, she was given the ability to review all the training material including their archived programs. A big part of Mr. Silva’s charge had been that the new COO had implemented policy changes that put the staff in danger. Kathleen was in the perfect position to prove or disprove that allegation. The first thing she did was check the company’s policy change log against what they had filed with the state. She found no irregularities. In fact, she was impressed with just how well organized they were. However, Kathleen knew just because the paperwork was in order didn’t mean everything was aboveboard. Yet for some reason she felt relieved that the paperwork confirmed what she’d seen so far. It was like she was rooting for them, which was something that she never did this early in the investigation.
Employers often put one thing in writing but expected their employees to cut corners to get the job done faster and cheaper, regardless of the potential risk to themselves and their families. Most employees went along with such antics because they felt they had no choice. Kathleen was determined to make sure the Kingsley employees knew they had a choice. Over the next couple of weeks, Kathleen conducted what she called “featherlight interviews” with her trainees. She would weave investigative questions into her training sessions and found nothing out of the ordinary. While Kathleen appreciated his hands-off approach to her work, she found herself looking forward to their check-in moments, as Morgan called them, at the end of each day.
But Kathleen combed through old and new training records and found a smoking gun. Unfortunately, it wasn’t what she’d expected. The most damaging evidence she found was against a senior-level welder by the name of Mundos Silva. While Kathleen couldn’t review the Kingsley employees’ personal records, she did have access to their training files. It seems Mr. Mundos Silva had experienced a great deal of difficulty passing most of his required training. It had taken him longer than others and multiple times to pass. There were notes in his files indicating that his supervisors had offered him assistance and additional training in areas where he was having difficulty. Unfortunately, Mr. Silva refused the help. Kathleen found that the outside training specialist recommended that Mr. Silva be demoted to a position more appropriate for his current level of ability. The recommendation and change took effect long before there was a change in leadership.
“Damn,” Kathleen replied, after reading the last note in his file. She called her boss.
“Kathleen, what’s up?” Simpson answered.
“I found something.”
“What?” She could hear the anxiousness in his voice.
“It’s not against the Kingsleys, but Mr. Silva.”
“Tell me.”
After going over everything she’d found out so far, she read the final note in the file. “‘Mr. Silva is a valued employee who we should do everything we can to try to help according to the Kingsley Family Stay Whole policy.’”
“What the hell is the Kingsley Family Stay Whole policy?” he asked.
“Apparently anyone who’s been here for more than five years is eligible to receive any form of help they may need in the event of a crisis, to stay whole.”
“What?”
“I just heard about it. The Kingsleys believe in taking care of their employees. There’s even something for those who’ve been here for fewer than five years,” she added.
“Maybe we can get a job there after we’re both fired. It’s time to come home, Kathleen.”
“Not yet. You need to bring Mr. Silva in for a follow-up conversation.”
Kathleen was experiencing a whirlwind of emotions. Confusion and anger that she might have let herself get played and pleasure that it appeared the Kingsleys were actually what she was finding them to be: good people with a great company.
“I’m already ahead of you, but there’s nothing to find,” Simpson insisted.
“You may be right, but I have to be sure. Besides, I have to finish the training and system updates. That way I can leave, and no one will ever know the real reason for my visit.”
“Fine, but make it fast,” he said before hanging up on her.
Kathleen had a feeling that Simpson was right, but for reasons she didn’t want to explore she just knew she had to stay a little longer...for Morgan.
Chapter 5 (#ua6d577af-6ea2-5bd9-8aca-d2027141437c)
The pledge that Morgan made to keep his distance proved to be harder than he thought. He spent the next two weeks doing everything he could to avoid spending any time alone with Kathleen. Whenever she came near him with questions, concerns or comments his brain seem to shut down, allowing his hormones to take control. After turning down several recent offers for female companionship, putting himself through grueling workouts in his home gym and riding his horses until he started to smell like one himself, Morgan spent the entire weekend wondering what Kathleen was doing. She never wore rings, so he figured she wasn’t married, but it seemed impossible for a woman like that to be single. The question and idea had made him nuts all weekend.
Morgan had a history of dating beautiful and compliant women, but none of them affected him like Kathleen. Her beauty aside, it was her passion for her work, the compassion he’d seen her show his team, but most of all, the way she challenged him when she believed she was right about something that attracted him.
It was another Monday afternoon when Morgan sat at a table in the cafeteria across from where Kathleen was sitting talking to several of his employees. However, this time she seemed to be focusing her attention on Troy, one of his senior welders. The way she threw her head back when she laughed at whatever he was saying to her grated at him and he had no idea why.
“I’m surprised Kathleen hasn’t filed charges against you,” Adrian said before biting into his chicken.
“What?” Morgan frowned and he looked over at his friend.
Adrian wiped his mouth with his napkin and said, “The way you’re attacking her with those glares.”
Morgan turned his head and pushed his plate forward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. Just ask Kathleen out already,” Adrian suggested.
“Don’t be ridiculous. First, Kathleen works here. Second, she may be married or at least have a man. And third, I’m not—”
“Don’t say you’re not interested because I know better.”
“Do you now?”
“We’ve been friends for over ten years, and I know when someone’s piqued your interest. Considering all the hard labor you’ve put in these last couple weeks, I’d say Kathleen has more than done that.”
What she’s doing is driving me crazy. “Like I said, she works here—”
“She’s working here. She doesn’t work here, and as far as her being married or having a man, she isn’t, and she doesn’t.”
Morgan could feel his anger on the rise, and he didn’t understand why. Had Adrian asked Kathleen out? Did she turn him down? Had he already gone out with her? Those questions were racing through his mind and driving him crazy. “How the hell do you know that?”
Adrian must have sensed the change in Morgan’s demeanor. “Chill, man, I heard one of the welding guys asked her out.”
“Who?” Morgan hadn’t realized that he’d fisted his hands on the table.
Adrian shrugged and took another bite of his food. “I’m not sure, but I think it might be one of the guys she’s sitting next to. I don’t know if she said yes.”
I’m going to fire his ass. Wait, where the hell did that come from? He used the palm of his right hand to rub against his temple.
Adrian turned toward his friend. “Look, man, just ask the woman out. You know you want to. Didn’t you say she seemed interested when you first met?”
“Yeah, when she thought she was talking to you. Ever since she found out who I was, Kathleen’s been tense and standoffish.”
“Probably because you’ve been quiet and brooding.” Adrian wiped his face and took a drink of his soda.
“Quiet and brooding?”
“Yeah, that’s what the women around here call you,” Adrian explained with a half smile.
“Do they now?”
“Yes. You haven’t even attended one of Kathleen’s classes,” Adrian noted.
“I don’t need to,” he defended.
“She might appreciate the gesture, and you’d be surprised how cool it is.”
Morgan’s eyebrows rose. “Would I?”
“Hell, perhaps Kathleen would like a man who can make her laugh like that.” Adrian directed Morgan’s attention to the area were Kathleen now stood talking to Troy and two additional women. They were all laughing and standing near the exit, and Kathleen had her hand resting on Troy’s arm.
“Perhaps we should both get back to work. Those containers aren’t going to clean themselves.”
Morgan stood, threw his trash out and headed for the exit away from where Kathleen stood. Morgan knew Adrian was right, he couldn’t stop thinking about her, but he also knew he had to get his foreign and inconvenient feelings for Kathleen under control before he did anything. It was time to talk to one of his brothers, and he knew the perfect one too.
* * *
Kathleen had been keeping an eye on Morgan from the moment he walked into the cafeteria. Their encounters over the last couple of weeks were very professional, although she found herself having more inappropriate thoughts and dreams about the man she was investigating, a probe that had only yielded positive responses from his employees.
As part of her investigation, she got to see how well prepared his administrative team as well as his frontline staff were. Kathleen needed to make sure she wasn’t allowing her personal whatever she was feeling for Morgan to interfere with her ability to do her job. It had never been a problem before, and she was going to make sure it didn’t become one now. It was time to deal with Morgan Kingsley.
Kathleen figured if she could interview him about the complaint one of two things would happen. She’d either be able to clear the charges once and for all or find a reason to move forward with a full investigation. Now all she had to do was find a way to interview Morgan without him catching on. Kathleen knew just the person to ask for help too.
* * *
Morgan stood in the immaculately decorated living room of his younger brother Brice’s home and smiled. He remembered how not very long ago when he’d visited his brother, Brice would direct him downstairs to his man cave and away from the living room. The painful memories of his then soon-to-be ex-wife were too much to handle. Morgan was happy his brother and sister-in-law had since reconciled, even though at first he hadn’t seen it happening. Watching Brice handle his conflicting feelings for Brooke while being forced to work with her told Morgan that Brice would be the perfect person to ask about his foreign feelings for Kathleen and how best to handle them.
“Here you go.” Brice handed Morgan a bottle of beer.
“Thanks, man. You sure this is cool? I haven’t interrupted anything, have I?” he asked, noticing his brother’s wet hair, pajama bottoms and T-shirt.
“Not now,” he replied, smiling.
“Good, I’d hate to disturb Brooke. How’s she doing with everything?”
“She’s fine. She hasn’t had an MS flare-up in a while.”
“That’s great. I still can’t get over how well you two are handing Brooke’s multiple sclerosis diagnosis. I’m proud of you, bro.”
“I appreciate that. We’ve made a decision.”
“About what?”
Brice’s face lit up. “We selected a surrogate, and we’re starting the process next week.”
“For real?”
“Yep.” Brice nodded.
Morgan hugged his brother. “Congratulations, man. I know how much you want kids, but I also know how much you need to keep Brooke safe.” He took a long pull from his bottle as he watched Brice’s expression morph from happiness to fear back to happiness again in the matter of seconds.
“Let’s sit down.”
Morgan took a seat in one of the two large wingback chairs across from his brother, who was now sitting on a sofa. “Have you shared it with the rest of the family?”
“No. You’re the first. Mother won’t be surprised, since she’s the one who made the recommendation and found us the perfect agency.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Morgan took another drink from his bottle.
“Because she’s Victoria Kingsley. Now, what brings you out here? You were all cryptic when you called,” he asked, finally getting around to taking a drink from his beer bottle.
Morgan placed his now empty bottle on the coffee table. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, clasping his hands. “There’s this woman—”
“Oh wow...wait.” Brice held up his left hand and put his beer bottle down on the floor. “You came to see me about a woman?”
“Yeah, so...”
Brice clapped his hands and started laughing. Morgan knew he deserved his brothers’ ribbing after all the hard times he’d given all of them about their problems with women while he incessantly played the field after Bonnie broke his heart, but now really wasn’t the time. He needed his help. Morgan sat back in the chair. “You done?”
“Sorry, man. I’m done. What’s going on and who is this woman who has finally got Morgan Kingsley, the king of the bachelors, Mister No-Woman’s-Worth-the-Drama all twisted up in his feelings?”
“Her name is Kathleen Winston—”
“The trainer from OSHA?” Brice frowned.
Morgan rose from his seat. “That’s the one.”
“Damn, man, she just got there, and you’ve already—”
“No, I haven’t.” Morgan started a slow pace around the room. “I haven’t done anything, and that’s the problem.”
“I don’t understand.”
Morgan released an audible sigh. “Neither do I, which is why I’m here. So, what do I do?”
Brice frowned. “About what?”
“Men...” a small, soft voice called out as Brooke descended the stairs and entered the living room, barefoot and wearing a robe.
Morgan stopped midstride, and Brice stood. He reached for his wife’s hand and pulled her into his arms, kissing her on the cheek. “Sorry if we disturbed you, sweetheart,” Brice stated.
A warm feeling came over Morgan watching the sweet exchange, and while normally such a sight never affected him, he was finding himself thinking about how nice it would be to have such a moment, maybe with a beautiful stranger who he couldn’t even have a real conversation with.
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