The Spanish Millionaire's Runaway Bride Read online

  Nanna laughed. “I’d have paid to see that. I bet your dad is angry.”

  Riccardo mumbled, “He is.” Then he looked out the window.

  Morgan’s heart gave a funny catch. He was pulling himself out of the conversation, more or less handing her over to his grandmother—

  She suddenly realized the real reason he’d brought her to Spain. He was on the hook with her dad. Responsible for her. Yet they’d gotten so close in just a few days that he’d almost kissed her. Getting involved with her would be like professional suicide. He’d brought her to Spain so she’d have his family to entertain her, and he wouldn’t have to worry about what was growing between them.

  Disappointment began to rise but she stopped it. She didn’t want to get involved with him, either. She was only a few days out of the most serious relationship of her life. She did not want to be falling for another man.

  Putting distance between them was the right thing to do.

  So, she let him stare out the window on his side, and she turned to look out the window on hers. The morning sun glistened off the dewy grass beside the road that threaded through the valley.

  Nanna pointed at the rows and rows of green leaves that Morgan knew sheltered their grapes. “We started off as one vineyard and got lucky enough to buy the neighbor’s.” She poured Morgan a glass of wine. “We combined them and now we have an empire almost as big as your dad’s.” She smiled. “Bigger if you count what Mitch and Riccardo have done with their online presence.”

  Taking the wine, Morgan laughed. “You’re the one who’s competitive.”

  Nanna smiled. “I prefer to be called feisty.” She turned to Riccardo. “So, you came home to help with the grapes?”

  That brought his gaze back from the window. “The grapes?”

  “It’s about to be harvest time.” She laughed. “Surely you haven’t been away so long you’ve forgotten. I expect Alonzo to announce it’s time to pick any day now.”

  Morgan glanced at the seemingly endless fields of grapes. It would take hundreds of people to get all this harvested on time. “You pick by hand?”

  Riccardo glanced at her. “Yes.”

  She held her breath, caught in the gaze of his captivating brown eyes. Of all the things Morgan had thought might happen in her life, falling for a stranger was not one of them. Sexy or not. Handsome or not.

  These feelings she had were so far out of her comfort zone that she worried running from her wedding had changed her too much. Morgan Monroe, the real Morgan Monroe, did not fall for strangers.

  She faced Nanna again. “Up until a few years ago, my dad had our grapes picked by hand, too. I’ve helped.”

  Nanna clapped her hands. “Excellent! We get lots of laborers from town.” She leaned close to Morgan. “Even some tourists volunteer. But everyone in the family also picks.” She flicked a glance at Riccardo.

  Riccardo said, “It’ll be fun,” though he sounded less than enthusiastic.

  Nanna didn’t seem to care. “Yes, it will be.” She smiled at Morgan. “Have you brought a gown?”

  The quick change of topic made Morgan blink. “A gown?”

  “There’ll be a ball when Mitch and Lila return.”

  “I barely brought any clothes. I’m not even sure I have enough underwear.”

  Nanna’s musical laugh echoed through the limo. “No problem. I love to shop. Let’s get you settled in then you and I will head into town.” She frowned. “You do have a credit card, right?”

  She winced. “I tossed them in Vegas when I realized my dad could find me by watching my purchases.”

  Riccardo pulled his wallet from his pants pocket. “Here. Company card. Spend as much as you like. We can expense it.”

  Nanna clapped with glee. “We are going to have such fun.”

  * * *

  Riccardo held back a grimace. He was happy Nanna liked Morgan, but his afternoon would not be fun. He might not have kissed the runaway bride in his custody, but he almost had. If he had, his explanation to Mitch for why he’d refused to take her home would have been infinitesimally worse. Especially since he wasn’t 100 percent sure he wasn’t doing what he’d done with Cicely—falling for a woman who might not have feelings for him, as much as she needed him.

  He thanked God he’d stepped back from that kiss, and determined with every fiber of his being to get this situation back on track. First, get Morgan settled with his nanna. Second, come up with an explanation for Mitch about why she was in Spain instead of Lake Justice. Third, let Nanna guide her on what to say to her father to get her life back.

  He turned to Nanna. “When is Mitch expected?”

  “He didn’t pin down a time. But the ball is Friday next week. They promised to be here a few days before that.”

  That gave Morgan time to get her bearings. She could even meet Lila and go to the ball. And after that, her dad would leave for Stockholm and she could go home.

  The driver pulled the limo onto the lane for Ochoa Vineyards, toward the original stone mansion. Built centuries ago, it was a great two-story house, beautiful even. But if the transfixed expression on Morgan’s face was anything to go by, she saw far more.

  “It’s gorgeous. Like time stood still.”

  “Not on the inside,” Nanna commented casually. “The first floor has been renovated to be the business offices for the vineyard, along with a lovely gift shop.” She leaned in close to Morgan. “There’s a huge ballroom in the back with its own entrance. The basement is our restaurant. We only serve dinner. And the second floor has two apartments. One for me. One for Marguerite and Santiago, Mitch’s parents.”

  “Wow.”

  Nanna took Morgan’s hand and led her out of the limo. “I’ll bet the home of your vineyard is every bit as lovely.”

  “It’s nice,” Morgan agreed, as Riccardo climbed out behind her. “But there’s not a lot of charm. It’s stuffy.” She glanced at the big house. “Look at the lines in the stone. This house seems like it’s been here forever, lovingly guarding its occupants.”

  Nanna slipped her arm across Morgan’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug. “That’s exactly how I see it.”

  The driver opened the trunk to get their baggage, such as it was. When Nanna saw Riccardo’s duffel and Morgan’s small black suitcase, she clicked her tongue. “Seriously, you and I are going shopping as soon as we get you settled.”

  She hooked Morgan’s arm with her own and guided her down the cobblestone sidewalk that led first to a duplex and then to Ochoa Vineyard’s newly constructed condos.

  Riccardo said, “I see the building is done.”

  “Yes. Lucky for you,” Nanna said over her shoulder. “Alonzo and Julia are in the one side of the duplex and Mitch and Lila will be taking up the other. Poor Francine has been staying with Santiago and Marguerite.”

  It was why the family had decided to build eight condos. With Mitch getting married and Lila’s mom being folded into the clan, their group was growing. Add other guests and businessmen and women who came and went, and they needed more space.

  Following Nanna and Morgan, Riccardo said, “We’ll be the first to stay in the new condos?”

  “Yes. Francine will be returning to New York with Lila and Mitch. It seemed foolish to move her over for only a few days.” Nanna tossed him a puzzled frown. “I thought you’d go to your parents’ house?”

  His parents’ home at the second vineyard was only two miles down the road, but as sympathetic as he’d become to Morgan’s problems, he hadn’t forgotten how easily she’d duped him in Vegas. His plan might have been to bring her to Spain so he could get some distance from her, but he didn’t think it was a good idea to be two miles away. Just in case she got it in her head that she could trick him again.

  “I’d be happy in a condo.”

  “Very well.”

  Nanna dir
ected them to the yellow stucco building and into an elevator in a quietly elegant lobby with a marble floor and a modern crystal chandelier. “Not letting us stay on the first floor?” he asked.

  As Nanna pressed the button that started the car moving, she gave him a curious look. “You can stay on the first floor.” The elevator stopped and the doors opened onto a wide hall showcasing doors to four separate condos. “But I’m giving our guest a room with a view.” She turned to Morgan. “It’s a peaceful, panoramic view of the vineyard.”

  Morgan said, “Thank you.”

  But Riccardo got a funny feeling in his stomach. He shouldn’t feel odd that his nanna wasn’t putting them on the same floor. They’d had separate rooms while driving across the US. They weren’t romantically involved. They weren’t even friends. In Nanna’s mind, there was no reason to keep them together. Especially given that his grandmother didn’t know Morgan had tried to lose him in Vegas. All she was doing was giving their “guest” the room with the best view.

  But he got a weird, itching sensation along his skin, thinking of her on one floor and him on another.

  Nanna punched in a code and opened the door to the first condo. Like a proud owner, she offered Morgan entry. “Everything’s compact. Two bedrooms, two baths.” She pointed to the right. “Sitting room.” And to the left. “Kitchen.”

  Morgan glanced around appreciatively. “It’s lovely.”

  Riccardo agreed. The place was exceptional. The duplex had been built in a rush and had simple, plain architecture. The condos had been lovingly designed with arches, rich hardwoods, Carrera marble and wrought-iron accents.

  The driver arrived with their bags. Morgan took hers with a smile. “It’s kind of light. I can carry it to the bedroom myself.”

  Nanna nodded her approval. “Come on, Riccardo. Let’s get you to your room.” She addressed the driver. “His bag is going to the first floor.”

  “Actually, I’d like to stay up here. On the second floor.”

  The driver stopped. Nanna frowned. “Here?”

  “Well, there’s no need to have people on two floors.” Riccardo suddenly felt young and clumsy. He couldn’t tell his grandmother Morgan had already tried to escape once. At least not in front of Morgan. “It’s a safety thing.”

  Nanna laughed. “We’re in the middle of Northern Spain’s beautiful rolling hills. We don’t even have a neighbor for miles.”

  “What if there’s a fire?”

  “Alarms will go off.” Nanna sighed. “But there’s no reason why you can’t stay on the second floor. So, fine. I’ll put you in the suite next door.” She consulted a small blue book she pulled from her skirt pocket. “I have the codes for all the suites. Let’s go.”

  Morgan stopped them. “Give me twenty minutes to shower and put on clean clothes, and I’ll be ready to go shopping.”

  “Great. Meet me downstairs. I’ll have the limo wait while I freshen up, too.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Nanna directed Riccardo out of Morgan’s condo. “I think your dad and Santiago want to talk to you.”

  About Colonel Monroe, no doubt. Though Ochoa Online wasn’t part of their business, they were protective of it, and they’d want to know what was going on. But that might be good. It wouldn’t hurt to try different explanations on them so that when Mitch arrived Riccardo would know which one worked. Particularly since Morgan would be spending the rest of the day occupied—and sort of guarded—by his grandmother.

  In the hall, Nanna gave him the code for the lock to his suite. He took his bag from the driver, using the same explanation Morgan had—it was light enough he could handle it. The driver left, but before Nanna could follow him, he caught her arm.

  “Don’t forget that Ms. Monroe is a runaway.”

  “Runaway bride.”

  “No, just plain runaway. She gave me the slip once in Vegas. Her dad is leaving for Stockholm next week, and she says she’s going home then, but until she’s safely on a plane back to the States, she’s my responsibility. I brought her here to see how a family works. But also, so that you can talk to her. Help her sort out her feelings, figure out how to deal with her demanding dad.”

  “It would be my honor.”

  “Great.” He loved his nanna’s enthusiasm, but he also wanted to be clear about Morgan. “But I don’t want her running again. Don’t let her out of your sight today.”

  Nanna pointed a finger at him. “Shame on you for thinking she’d run.”

  “I don’t know her well enough to think anything. I do know that she fooled me once. I’m not getting so comfortable with her that she does it again.”

  “Fine.”

  “Thank you.”

  Inside his condo, he showered and put on a clean pair of jeans and clean T-shirt. He tagged his dirty clothes for laundry, glad he had a tux and a few suits at his parents’ house.

  Clean and refreshed, he left his condo at the same time Morgan did. As she closed her door, she said, “Hey! Are you coming shopping with your nanna and me?”

  His gaze cruised from her sandals to the top of her head. She wore shorts and a tank top, appropriate for the still-warm September weather, and though she’d clearly combed her thick yellow hair, it fell about her in wild waves.

  He sucked in a breath, reminding himself she was the daughter of a client and a woman in emotional trouble, but he still wanted to tease and flirt with her, and that was worse for his sanity than the threat that she might bolt.

  “Uncle Santiago wants to see me. My dad will be there, too.”

  “That’s right. I remember your nanna saying that.” She winced. “Sorry they’re going to grill you about me.”

  “I’m not sure they are.” He directed her to walk to the elevator. “But even if they do, I can handle it.” He pressed the down button. “Besides, they might want to talk about their investments. They aren’t part of Ochoa Online, but I handle most of the family’s money.”

  “That’s right. You’re the moneyman.” She smiled. “Probably the most important person in any business.”

  The elevator arrived. He shook his head as he motioned for her to enter. “My ego isn’t delicate. You don’t have to coddle me—” or try to compliment me into trusting you “—because I don’t own Ochoa Online.”

  “I’m not coddling you. I’m an accountant, remember? I know how important your job is.”

  He said, “I remember,” but confusion rolled through him. He’d been so suspicious of her, then attracted to her, then suspicious again, that he’d barely thought of her as a worker in her dad’s company, a certified public accountant. But just then, when she’d reminded him she was an accountant, he saw a glimpse of the woman he’d found happily giving the stock seminar beside the slot machines. The supersmart CPA in glasses and gray canvas tennis shoes. Not the confused runaway bride. It was weird—

  No. It was Morgan. The real Morgan. Honest. Honorable. With a warm smile and a big heart. And that’s why he’d wanted to kiss her. In the few days they’d had in the car, she’d gone from being confused to being herself.

  And he liked her. Who wouldn’t? She was a likeable person.

  The elevator door opened. She exited first and he followed her out, his gaze unwittingly sliding from her shoulders to her butt. Her perfect butt. She was warm, funny, intelligent and sexy—

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  She was as forbidden to him as a person could be. Not only the daughter of a client, but also a woman who needed him. The absolute wrong kind of person for him to be interested in. Yet, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from noticing everything about her.

  They reached the door and he opened it for her. “Enjoy shopping with Nanna.”

  She smiled at him. “I will.”

  She all but raced up the cobblestone walkway to the limo, where his Nanna awaited her. “I hope I lo
ok okay.”

  Nanna kissed her cheek. “We’ll get you an outfit at the first store. Maybe a cute dress with a big sun hat. Something chic and European,” she said, holding the limo door open. “Then we’ll have lunch. After that we can purchase the rest of what you need.”

  What Morgan said was lost as she entered the limo, but only an idiot would have missed the happiness in her voice. And that was what he wanted. Morgan to see real life with his happy, always fun grandmother, so she’d know what she was missing and be able to explain the future she wanted to her dad.

  Once she got a dose of Nanna, she wouldn’t want to run. She’d want to learn as much as she could. If there was one thing he’d realized about Morgan, it was that she was curious about what she’d missed. As long as Nanna was helping her figure things out, she’d happily stay with her. There was no reason to worry that she’d try to escape. Just as he’d planned, he could keep his distance from her.

  He crossed the driveway between the cobblestone path and the huge Ochoa Vineyards mansion and shook his head, wondering why that realization hadn’t gotten rid of the odd feeling in his stomach.

  Morgan was a good person, trying to figure out her life before she had to talk to her domineering dad. She wasn’t going to betray him. He shouldn’t have this emptiness in his gut as if...

  He turned the feeling around in his head, trying to figure it out. When the answer came, he squeezed his eyes shut.

  As if...he missed her.

  Damn it! That’s what the weird, itchy feeling was about. He didn’t mistrust Morgan. He felt odd about being away from her because he didn’t want to be away from her. They’d spent almost every minute of the last few days together and he had grown to like her. That’s why it felt so odd that his grandmother was separating them. Why watching her drive off had seemed wrong.

  He missed her.

  Damn it!

  If he didn’t watch out, she’d be his second Cicely.

  He absolutely had to stay away from her.

  He entered the first floor of the mansion, walking past the gift shop and down the long hall that led to his Uncle Santiago’s office. With every step he took, his trepidation grew. He had done the right thing for Morgan, but his uncle and his dad would be more concerned with the Ochoa family than Morgan’s situation with her dad.