His San Diego Sweetheart. Yahrah St. John
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I like.” He opened the passenger door for her to get in, but she turned to him.
“A Rolls?” She grinned as she slid in. “Nice touch.”
Vaughn grinned like a Cheshire cat as he closed the door and strode to the driver’s side. He glanced over at Miranda and took a moment to enjoy the expanse of leg on display thanks to the side slit. The woman had legs that went on for miles. Maybe one day those very legs would be wrapped around him as he brought them to sweet completion. Just then, Miranda glanced up and caught his appreciative gaze, but turned away.
Vaughn wasn’t sure she was ready for him yet, but at least for tonight, she was his.
* * *
Miranda swallowed the frog in her throat as San Diego whirled by. She had no idea where Vaughn was taking her and she wasn’t worried. She suspected it was going to be someplace chic because he’d told her to dress up. Or rather told her to wear something “sexy.” She’d opted for an off-the-shoulder formfitting red dress with ruffled sleeves and a hem that hit above her knee. Miranda didn’t want to give him any ideas that she was catering to his male fantasies. She’d worn the dress for her because it showed off her shoulders and figure, but left enough to the imagination.
Or had she?
Wasn’t just a tiny part of her excited at the hungry gazes Vaughn bestowed upon her moments ago? He had been unable to hide his appreciation of her outfit. And Miranda had to admit that she’d gone the extra mile to ensure she looked spectacular tonight. She’d had her hair styled at the salon downstairs so that it now hung in soft curls down her back. The makeup artist had subtly accentuated her eyes, the curve of her lips and her high cheekbones. Overall, she was pleased with the result which made it appear as if she’d gone to little or no effort for the evening when it was quite the opposite.
With his eyes on the road, Miranda allowed herself a moment to hazard a glance at Vaughn’s sinfully masculine face. Tonight, he looked much different than the casual Vic from last night. He looked more like an authority than the easygoing surfer with a zest for life. His suit was dark and tailored to fit like armor and accentuated every inch of his fit and trim six-foot physique. She was sure it had to have been custom made for him. He was every bit the assured businessman she’d researched online this afternoon, who’d come from a proud military family.
After lunch with Sasha ended, Miranda had pulled out her iPad and put Vaughn Ellicott into the search engine. She’d been shocked by the results. A former Navy man turned businessman. His surf gear business, Elite, had started out as a one-man operation, but having garnered contracts with several surfing associations to solely provide their gear, it had quickly morphed into a million-dollar company almost overnight. Vaughn Ellicott had a substantial fortune behind him.
Her practical side told Miranda to forget about Vaughn and focus on finding a man who could be bought, but her feminine side wasn’t ready to let the sexy surfer go. And so, she’d agreed to a second date as a final hoorah. When it was over, she would return to her husband hunting search. For tonight, however, she would indulge her fantasy of what it would be like if she was free from restrictions and could have this man.
“We’re here,” Vaughn said, when he smoothly pulled up along the curb.
A valet opened Miranda’s car door and she exited. Vaughn came around and met her, sliding his arm around her waist as he led her inside the building. Miranda had to admit that she liked how he took charge. He led her to the elevator which took them to the twelfth floor.
“Reservation for Ellicott,” Vaughn told the maître d’ when they entered the restaurant housed there.
“Right this way, Mr. Ellicott.” The portly man walked them through the elegantly appointed restaurant with views of San Diego and the bay at their feet.
“This place is amazing,” Miranda commented once they were seated with a view of the San Diego skyline. She’d never heard of Mr. A’s, but knew she’d be talking about it to Sasha later. Who would have anticipated such a jewel on the top floor of an office building?
“Only the best for you,” Vaughn replied smoothly.
“Great line.”
The waitress came over and Vaughn selected an expensive bottle of red wine from their black label wine list. Miranda knew it cost a mint because it was one of her father’s favorites.
When she departed, Vaughn was wearing a frown. “I didn’t give you a line earlier. I wanted to take you to someplace special after last night’s chill atmosphere. Show you there’s more to me than just what I portray outwardly.”
“So you were acting last night?” She’d thought he’d been real with her, but if he wasn’t she could hightail it out the door now. She’d been there and done that.
“Not at all, but if I’m honest—” He paused. “I had my guard up. Sometimes I don’t know the type of woman I’m meeting and whether they want to spend time with me for me or because I’m a millionaire mogul.”
Miranda released a sigh of relief. Maybe her radar wasn’t completely as off as she thought. She’d read that he was part of an organization called Prescott George, but had been dubbed by the media as the Millionaire Moguls. “Tell me about Prescott George.”
“How much did you read up on me this afternoon?” His sharp eyes bore into hers from across the table.
Miranda shrugged. “Enough, so don’t skirt around the issue. I’d like to know more.”
“I’ve been part of the organization for five years. My father, Vaughn Ellicott, Sr., has been a member for decades, but it was only when I left the Navy and started my own business and began giving back to the community that I got an invitation to join.”
“So not anyone can join?”
“We’re selective. Keeps the riffraff out.”
Miranda chuckled.
“Prescott George is all about giving back to those less fortunate and lending a helping hand to the African-American community.”
“I’m impressed,” Miranda said. And she didn’t say that often. They may have started out rocky with Vaughn not being honest with her, but he did seem to have integrity and she respected him and the work Prescott George did. If she was fortunate enough to get her hands on her inheritance, it wouldn’t all go to starting her bed-and-breakfast. She too would give back.
“And you, Miranda?” Vaughn said. “Tell me more about what makes you tick. I suspect that I barely scratched the surface last night.”
“I’m really quite easy. I went to school back east at Brown University. Received my MBA. However, rather than working at Jensen Finance I chose to work in the hotel business. Since graduating, I’ve been working my way up the ladder. Not at the pace I’d like, but I’ll get there.”
“Hmmm...that’s all info I can probably find out online,” he responded. “I want to know about you. Why are you still single? And more importantly, why are you in San Diego when all your family and fortune is in Chicago? What gives? I feel like there’s more to the story than you’re telling me.”
Miranda didn’t like being put on the hot seat and a torrent of emotions surged up inside her. She didn’t particularly want to discuss her personal life. Or the bad choices she’d made in the past. If she did, she might dig herself into a ditch and reveal too much about her plan and the real reason she was in San Diego. So she opted for a version of the truth. “I’m single because I have a penchant for picking the wrong man,” she finally answered.
“Ah, you’ve intrigued me. Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they choose me too. They see a wealthy heiress and easy target.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Vaughn replied. “Because that’s not what I see.”
“What do you see?”
He