Yahrah John - His San Diego Sweetheart

“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 leaned forward and his long-lashed dark eyes stared into hers. It was impossible not to be completely mesmerized by his smoldering good looks. “I see a beautiful, vivacious and sexy woman that I want to spend time with and who I think finds me equally attractive.”

* * *

Or at least he hoped so. Vaughn was surprised by how much he enjoyed Miranda’s company. He thought about the beautiful model he’d dated a couple of months ago. And before her, he’d been with a dancer, yet none of those women held his attention for more than a few weeks at a time. Miranda on the other hand wasn’t looking at how many zeros were in his bank account because she had plenty of her own. And for once, Vaughn could be at ease and let his guard down. “You do find me attractive, don’t you?”

“Fishing for compliments?” Miranda inquired, sipping on her wine. “I would think a man as active as you wouldn’t need them.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not blind,” she responded. “I saw the articles about your dating conquests. You have quite the active social life and the reputation to go along with it.”

The waitress returned and took their dinner orders so Vaughn didn’t comment until after she’d left. “I do, but none of them have intrigued me as much as you do.”

“Do you always speak so frankly?”

He smiled. “Yes, I do. And I want to know more about you. What about your family?”

“My parents, Tucker and Leigh, live in Chicago. My father is the CEO of the Jensen Financial Group and my mother is content to stay at home and be a socialite.” Her voice raised a fraction. “We’re pretty boring and nothing much to tell.”

“I doubt that. Brothers or sisters?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Just me. I’m an only child.”

A grin spread across his sinful lips. “Were you spoiled rotten?”

“Surprisingly, no, my parents never deigned to give me my heart’s desire. Instead, they taught me about hard work and dedication to achieve one’s goals.”

“Sounds like my family,” Vaughn concurred. “My father, the Commander, didn’t believe in handing anything to us. We had to work for it. And in my case join the Navy as he did and his father before him.”

“And your sisters? What do they do?”

“My sisters Emily and Brianne are both married with children and live here in San Diego. Until recently, my baby sister, Eliza, owned a fashion boutique in New York, but she’s since opened a boutique here in her hometown. I’m very proud of her.”

“You’re close to your family?”

“Yes, I am. I find they keep me grounded and never let all the wealth and prestige get to my head.”

They continued leisurely talking over a three-course meal of Maine lobster strudel with Cognac lobster sauce; duck confit with huckleberry sauce and orange reduction followed by a decadent dessert of salted caramel and chocolate bar with a peanut praline crisp which they shared. Vaughn was enjoying the night so much he didn’t want it to end. He suggested coffee on the outdoor terrace and that was where they stayed until late when he drove Miranda to her hotel.

Vaughn was reluctant for the evening to end. Miranda was a gorgeous woman and throughout the evening his gaze would fix on her silky brown skin that he’d love to touch, or drift to her lush pink-tinted lips. She’d dressed for him tonight, of that he was sure. The dress with its ruffled sleeves accentuated her shapely figure without showing too much. It stopped at her knee, revealing a tantalizing amount of leg, and the neckline gave a tempting view of her full cleavage.

He was desperate to take her upstairs to her room, yet was afraid of coming on too strong, but damn if he couldn’t picture the two of them making passionate sweet love all night long. Miranda wanted it too. She hadn’t shied away when his hand had covered hers on the restaurant terrace. In fact, he’d felt her breath hitch at his touch. Or complained when he’d come behind her and slid his arms on either side of her as he’d pointed out several points of interest. In fact, he could have sworn she’d sniffed him, inhaling his scent much as he’d done hers. Miranda’s sweet yet subtle perfume had oozed over his senses, filling his nostrils and seducing his mind into wanting to do all kinds of things to her body.

Miranda was taking him to new dimensions, but she was reluctant to speed up their relationship to the next level. Vaughn was accustomed to women who were a lot more confident and went after what they wanted. Women who gave him hungry stares so he knew what was offered. But Miranda seemed innocent, fragile even. He would have to handle her with care.

When the Rolls-Royce came to a stop in front of the hotel, Vaughn flew out the car, eager to open Miranda’s door since the valet was preoccupied with another customer. He lent her his hand and she slid out from the vehicle.