Catherine Morgan’s life is turned upside down when a blackmailer threatens to expose a sex tape from her high school days.
Determined to escape the scandal, Catherine flees to a sugar farm in Florida, where she meets Maverick Appellton, a quiet cowboy with a secret of his own.
As their relationship deepens, Catherine must come to terms with her past, but when her secrets threaten to destroy everything, Maverick must decide if he can forgive her—or if their love is doomed before it even begins.
Secret Cowboy is a sweet and steamy romance perfect for fans of second-chance love stories and family drama.
One Click the latest installment of the House of Morgan today!
The sun was up, the morning sky a light blue and seagulls squawked outside the bedroom window of her condo. Catherine Morgan dabbed a crystal stopper of perfume on her neck. Today was her first day of employment at the family bank.
She’d work as an analyst to make sure that Morgans stayed richer than anyone else. She’d be right next to her brother, Mitch, and her sister, Tess, and be right down the hall from Peter Morgan and half-siblings that all thought banking was the most important thing in life.
Numbers had always been a calling, so her accounting degree made sense. Her skin shouldn’t be prickly and her shoulders shouldn’t drag.
Today was supposed to be the start of a whole new life. This wasn’t her funeral, for heaven’s sake. And just because she didn’t dream about numbers didn’t mean she wouldn’t be great at the desk she probably hadn’t earned.
Her last name, Morgan, was why’d she landed the executive position right away, and every worker in the building would see her as… spoiled and undeserving.
Her stomach twisted and she knew she better not eat even a bite of breakfast.
Coffee was all people in offices lived on so she’d join the culture. When she’d been just Jess, driving to work, facing traffic jams, and coming home to a suburb, the idea of making management had been the long-term plan.
Now, as Catherine Morgan, no one expected her to earn her way. Catherine Morgan could flick her fingers and have whatever she desired.
And then the desire to… live life just dissipated away.
Her phone signaled a text, but she didn’t care. It was probably her sister making sure she was up and ready. She checked her diamond earrings and ignored the trembling in her hand as she glanced out of her window to the blue waves that crashed on the white beach far below her.
She loved her family.
Working with them should be fun.
Today was the day she declared herself a true member of the House of Morgan. Today was going to be perfect. Keep telling yourself that.
Her hands stopped shaking. Good. Catherine picked up her phone.
A video of herself from high school, naked, as football star Brock Letterman pushed himself into her back on the high school bleachers next to the football stadium played on the screen.
She’d been Jess Taylor then. Her heart joined her stomach. The memory of that day hit her hard and fast. She hadn’t even enjoyed herself. Sex had been a stupid lie that people had said was fun and that lasted longer on her video screen than she remembered at the time.
Brock had been a two-minute mistake that she’d blocked from her mind.
Followed by the video came a text that read, If you don’t send us five million dollars, this gets released to the world.
What? Catherine’s skin crawled. Her mother by adoption was shopping in Paris with her real mother, Fiona, for the week. Not that she’d call either of them–Tanya Taylor, her adoptive mother, would especially be disappointed.
She tugged at her mock-turtleneck cashmere collar and tried to breathe deep but her stomach clenched.
The words of Thomas Taylor, the man she thought of as Dad, flew to her mind. Be brave when someone comes at you–hit back harder. Now that she knew her real father was Mitch Morgan, she appreciated those small tips Thomas had offered. She had more power than most people, thanks to the Morgan name and money. She lifted her chin and typed back fast, Go for it. I don’t pay blackmail.
Adrenaline shot through her–how dare Brock think he could blackmail her for something that had happened six years ago. Without a second thought she sent the video to Tess, her adopted sister that she’d been raised with. Tess had married Catherine’s brother by blood, Mitch the third, who had thought Catherine was dead, so now she and Tess were sisters by marriage as well. Complicated, but the important thing was that they were all family.
She trusted that Tess would know what to do and involve the family lawyers.
Catherine couldn’t possibly start a new position until this mess was taken care of. Not to mention that her brother Peter was getting married in a couple days and no way could she star in a sex-tape scandal, running the Morgan name through the mud right before his wedding. He and Belle had waited so long to finally be together again. His ex-girlfriend, Jennifer, had brought enough drama and destruction to the family.
Catherine would never do anything to harm either of her families. She picked up her phone and scrolled to the message sender.
There he was. Her high school jerk of an ex. Clearly he wasn’t smart as he’d sent this from his own number. She dialed while her blood pumped hot. And listened to the ring.
She couldn’t wait to chew him out–who cared if he recorded that too? She had never consented to being videoed during their one time having sex. Catherine Morgan was too strong to cry, especially if there was a chance it could end up on a news broadcast.
Brock answered and she refused to wait for pleasantries. “Brock, you better explain yourself.”
He let out a sigh. “Catherine, baby. I didn’t expect to hear from you ever again until I sent you that clip.”
Baby. Ugh. Seriously? She wasn’t anyone’s baby, now or ever. And when that tape had been made she wasn’t even Catherine. She’d been Jess. “Who’s “us” Brock?”
“Whoever I send the tape to.”
He’d sent it from his own phone. Hopefully security would handle this right away. The video brought back memories of when she’d been Jess–the smart one with her feet planted on the ground, financially secure but not rich like the blackmail-able socialite Catherine.
Catherine tended to be a princess, whereas Jess had gone to college for a degree in accounting. She called upon Jess’s old confidence, to handle anything.
She crossed her arms and stared out the window of her high-rise condo that she currently shared with two roommates, Camila and Valentina. What would they think? The easy sway of the palm trees didn’t soothe her. Nothing calmed her down as she screamed, “My lawyers are already working on this case. How dare you video tape me?”
He chuckled. “I needed some leverage, sweetheart. Else no one would believe you and I-”
Wow. He’d just admitted it. She rolled her eyes and interrupted him, “Were a huge mistake. Why are you blackmailing me?”
“I need money. Most of us don’t live in luxury.”
“Most people don’t ask for money they don’t deserve.”
“What?” he asked. “I can’t hear you sweetheart, not without a plan for you to give me five million.”
And in that second, she blinked and lost some of her fight. Brock wasn’t the smartest guy she’d ever met. One too many footballs must have hit him in the head. She stifled a scream. “I assume you think this is going to embarrass me, but you are wrong. Videotaping a minor having sex is a criminal offense. And don’t forget one thing….”
His goofy tone made her think he had nothing upstairs in his mind. “What’s that?”
“My name is Catherine Morgan now and I’ll bury you.” Her words were a weapon she’d skewer him with. Jess had been strong and confident, but nobody had ever feared Jess Taylor. The Morgan name had clout. And money, and social standing, which made them vulnerable to jerks.
Jess Taylor didn’t even exist anymore. Not since her birth identity had been discovered.
He made a ‘duh’ sound and said, “Next time you call me, it should be with directions of where you intend to pay me.”
“Ughh,” she did scream then and he hung up the phone.
Seriously this was too much. Why today, of all days?
Send this to security. We know the guy in the video and can find out where he lives.
On it Tess.
At least her sister hadn’t reminded her that she’d warned Catherine back in high school that Brock was trouble. She followed her sister’s advice and forwarded the text to Morgan security. Angry at being singled out and having her first day in the Morgan Empire ruined, she left her phone in her room and wandered into the living area and kitchen.
Her face felt hot, her throat dry. Security had the video, which meant strangers would see her naked, acting stupid.
More would see her lapse in judgement if she didn’t stop this nonsense. How dare he?
She needed a minute without drama before what was sure to be an awful day, so she chose a coffee pod, the motion soothing. As the water poured in the cup, another bedroom door opened and Valentina, friend, roommate, and almost sister these days, pouted at her. With red eyes like she’d pulled an all-nighter with her law books, Valentina swept her dark black hair behind her ears. “Catherine?”
Catherine put her coffee in the machine and pressed the on button, reaching into the refrigerator for cream. Valentina stood in front of her and asked, “Are you okay? I’m fairly sure I heard screaming.”
Before she could answer, her cousin Camila joined them. She also had dark brown hair but her eyes were an exotic almond shape rather than Valentina’s round.
Silk, diamonds, platinum, cashmere. All three of them understood living with unlimited wealth at their fingertips–it did not make their lives perfect but came with certain complications. None of them saw a reason to live alone when they could have fun, together.
Catherine ignored the heat in her face and said, “Valentina, Camila… I didn’t expect to see either of you so early this morning.”
Valentina took the ice cream from the freezer and said, “You slammed the phone and screamed out you were a Morgan. That’s pretty serious so I left my law books to check on you.”
“I’m sorry you heard that.” Had she been that loud? Her shoulders were tight and she blew on her hot coffee.
“No apologies necessary,” Valentina said. “So what happened?”
Catherine set her coffee on the counter, knowing she couldn’t hide this disaster from them. “Hang on.” She left the open kitchen, rushed to her room, and scooped her phone off the bed, bringing it back to her friends. She couldn’t even look at it. “See for yourselves.”
Valentina put her mug of coffee down and took the phone. Camila stood beside her, and she was the one to gasp and say, “Oh my goodness. Who’s the guy?”
Ugh. Brock. “He was a high school mistake.”
Valentina turned her nose in the air and smacked her lips together. “Clearly–he’s not even that impressive.”
“Valentina!” Catherine squeezed the bridge of her nose. This wasn’t good. Brock’s anatomy wasn’t the topic of conversation.
Camila laughed so hard she held her belly as she said, “That’s pretty funny.”
Catherine shook her head. “Camila! Don’t encourage her.”
Valentina handed her the phone back. “What? It’s true. He’s kind of smaller than average and he’s stupid if he thinks he can blackmail you by releasing this. He’ll be laughed at and ridiculed.”
Hmm. That shouldn’t make her feel better though Catherine’s heart lifted a little. She straightened her shoulders then heat rose to her cheeks again as she thought of security watching the video. “Right. But now I have to tell my brothers about this, which is mortifying, and Peter is remarrying Belle and made a big deal about every Morgan needs to stay away from negative publicity.”
Valentina sighed. “There is no way around it, which sucks. But this isn’t publicity–you’re being blackmailed.”
Camila agreed.
Catherine didn’t want to give in to blackmail. “I hate to pay Brock off, but I don’t want anyone talking about this at Peter’s wedding to Belle. People already think Peter’s true love is Jennifer. Our banks are getting letters from concerned citizens of the world that Peter is ruining his life, like Jennifer is some wholesome girl everyone loves.”
Camila nodded. “We all got the family email to keep our noses clean. This is bad timing.”
“This guy is stupid.” Valentina winked. “He’s not equipped with the right wrench to even call that a cleaning.”
And now the world would see how stupid she’d been–if she didn’t pay. She hated the idea of paying! Catherine’s cheeks burned but she had to shake it off and not let Brock’s video ruin Peter’s wedding.
Catherine had four full brothers, eight half-brothers, two half-sisters, one adopted sister and a boatload of in-laws with the name Morgan. And who knows if there were more siblings out there, somewhere. The women in the Morgan family weren’t nearly as prolific. If Catherine was still Jess Taylor, no one would care about her two minutes in a football field in high school–she’d just been so glad when it was over.
As Jess, she’d start at the bottom of her job, probably get a cubicle in the middle of a hall, where she’d work her way up. But Catherine Morgan automatically received an office with a nice view, for doing nothing but being born.
“Catherine Morgan is supposed to stay out of trouble and keep her nose clean, and no one is going to respect my authority at a bank, with this out there.”
Valentina shrugged. “It’s not like you plan on running for office where a sex tape might matter. The worst thing that might happen would be customers at the bank not wanting you to handle their accounts for them. If you handle this like a boss that you are, no one will ever bring this up.”
In the bank world, reputation mattered, which was exactly why she needed to bury this.
Embarrassing her family was not an option.
To Brock, she’d said nothing he did or would do could hurt her, but if this story blew up, instead of starting her new job today, she’d be put in seclusion. Catherine would once again live in her gilded cage that would only feed the water cooler gossip and embarrass her brothers.
PR was high priority for the Morgans right now. Peter had been on the news talking about how his family represented fiscal responsibility and would never let their personal lives interfere with the banking empire.
Catherine fumed. Brock had probably seen that interview and decided that now was a good time to drag out that old video.
She glanced at her phone and saw multiple missed calls but her ringer had been turned off, maybe when she’d tossed her phone. It rang again and Peter Morgan’s name flashed on the screen.
Her body tensed with the realization that her family was making a place for Catherine, but working at the Morgan bank wasn’t going to make her happy. Now what? She rolled her shoulders and answered, “Hi.”
“Security has been trying to call you.”
“I was telling my roommates what happened.”
Peter cleared his throat. “We’re going to need you to lay low until we’re sure this won’t blow up before my wedding. Rafe told me you already talked to Brock. Don’t do that again. We’ll handle this.”
She had no words. Catherine’s life was always ‘handled’ like she was some porcelain doll that might break. And then her phone beeped. Her chest constricted–Brock. Price is now ten million. If you don’t pay in 48 hours, this and your prom night with Carter releases on air.
She’d dated Carter. How did Brock know him? Her spine was so tight she feared it would snap.
And the worst part that made her stomach flip? She didn’t want the job she’d been given and jumped at the chance to put it off.
Catherine would take her place in the family corporation once the dust settled. She sighed and told Peter, “I don’t want people talking about this when you have your investors from all over the world coming to your wedding. I’ll leave town for a while and disappear until this blows over.”
“I want you at my wedding, Catherine.”
Family was the only thing she understood having loyalty for. “Of course! Don’t worry. I’m sure something political will happen to move any news in a different direction if this comes out. Then I’ll come back and no one will care about the House of Morgan.”
Peter said, “Be safe, sis.” He hung up, like this was the end of a business conversation and not personal.
She shouldn’t have expected more. She put her phone on the table, ignoring the rings from Axel, her rock star brother half the world away. Camila handed her a bowl of ice cream she’d scooped for her with a freshly cooked waffle added to make it breakfast. “Where in the world will you go? Everyone knows you’re a Morgan.”
“I have to find a place no one knows me.” She ate her first spoon of chocolate chip cookie dough.
Being Jess again would be nice. She’d wear a ponytail, no makeup, and not have the weight of the world on her shoulders.
Valentina scoffed as she took her bowl. “Good luck with that. Your face is in the news more than a politician–no one really cares if you’re an account executive when they can discuss the dress you choose to wear.”
Another reason her life was worthless. Camila put the ice cream away. “Head into the country where no one is going to expect Catherine Morgan. I can just see you hiding behind some counter as a waitress serving pie.”
Valentina laughed out loud.
A waitress? Catherine had never liked cleaning up her own kitchen, even before she became a billionaire. She waited for her cousin to sit on the couch and said, “You have an active imagination, Camila.”
“It’s why I write screen plays.” Camila dug into her own ice cream waffle, with none of them caring about their figures right now.
Her phone rang again but this time she just turned off the ringer. It’s not like her wishes were as important as the bank’s and she was sure Rafe and security already had a plan for how to talk to Brock.
For a few minutes the three friends ate the chocolate chip cookie dough in contemplative silence.
The sweet taste helped relax her. Catherine was near the end of her bowl when she said, “I’m thinking somewhere where I won’t run into every local in town.”
“The issue is that you have money, and there is no hiding that. Unless…”Camila and Valentina shared a look. Camila asked, “What about applying for a nanny position, like in that movie?”
“Or a wife.” Valentina ran out of the living room like her legs had caught fire.
Catherine scraped the last bit of chocolate from the bowl, then set it before her on the table with the other empty bowls.
Valentina returned with an open laptop. “Read this.”
“What?” She wasn’t suited to be a nanny or a wife as Catherine Morgan wasn’t the laundry type for Sunday mornings.
Valentina sank down next to Catherine on the couch and shoved her laptop in Catherine’s lap while explaining, “We were talking about this in law class yesterday–what are the legal ramifications of getting a child dropped off on your doorstep, and whether it would count as child abandonment. This guy seems to be on the level. His ex, a model, has just left him the baby without question, signing off on all custody with a promise to disappear from both their lives.”
Huh? Catherine read the ad in the social media marketplace with a nice picture of a farm that seemed bought from stock images. “Local farmer seeks wife. Must be good with children, tolerable to look at and decent behind the stove.”
This had to be a joke. Catherine gave the laptop back, but played along. “I used to like baking on my Easy-Bake Oven but I don’t think that counts.”
“Why not?” Camila elbowed her with a smile. “You meet all the qualifications.”
“Huh. Doesn’t matter.” Her brow furrowed. “I’m not getting married.”
Valentina closed her laptop. “The public wouldn’t be so hard on you if you were engaged. Brock would be seen more as a youthful mistake. You’ve been known for saying you’re staying happily single, which I get because let’s be honest, with the Morgan fortune, it’s hard to find a sexy equal who doesn’t want your bank account more than you. The public doesn’t understand this feeling we have of never finding the one.”
Catherine’s throat itched and she tried to laugh but it sounded more like a cough. “So I should just show up at this man’s farm and say ‘I’m here for the wife position.’”
Camila picked up the bowls. “You can’t go as Catherine Morgan.”
Catherine took hers and Valentina’s so Camila didn’t serve and clean. “This is silly.”
Valentina followed them as they went into the kitchen and Camila said, “Or brilliant. I couldn’t make this stuff believable in a movie script.”
Valentina retorted fast, “That’s because you write sci fi and not rom coms–anything goes for a romantic laugh.”
Camila turned the water on and let it fill the bowls they stuck in the sink. “True.”
Catherine wasn’t about to jump into some crazy idea because she wanted to hide from the press, but since Peter needed her to lay low, maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea. Right? Not the married part, but who would find her on a farm?
Or, she could just hole up in one of her family’s many properties but then, once again, she’d be taken care of, entitled, and worthless. There were days when she hated her own face in the mirror. She kept that shame to herself. “I don’t know how to even hold a baby.”
“What if the kid is ten or something?” Valentina asked. “You know how to talk with anyone as you’re a Morgan and you charm every man or woman you meet.”
Charm wasn’t worth much in the world.
“I thought you checked this guy out.” Catherine, petite compared to tall Valentina, looked up at her for more information.
Valentina tapped her finger on her cheek. “There are no pictures of the child, just the guy, who’s in a cowboy hat which makes his face hard to see. The ex-girlfriend was blonde, like you, Catherine, so you’re his type. I suppose the baby could be any age.”
Cowboy hat with a model meant his standard of living was better than struggling, and a farm might be nice. Not seeing her overprotective brothers would be nicer.
Catherine, for one minute, imagined herself as a woman who worked with her hands in a garden, growing tomatoes. It seemed peaceful compared to her party circuit and demands on her social schedule.
And peace would be nice.
As Jess, she’d worked with Tanya at the summer cottage gathering string beans and other vegetables they’d planted.
Uncertain, but feeling desperate, she asked her friends, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Valentina held up her right hand and placed it on her heart like she was swearing into court. “Just keep in touch with the two of us. We won’t tell a soul where you went.”
The guy would probably laugh her off the farm the minute she knocked. Or he’d call his security people and have her removed from the property.
But if she went out of town, escaped the job, maybe she scored a chance to figure out what she wanted. But Morgan security didn’t need to find her.
Neither did her brothers. They loved to tell her what to do, but that never helped.
Opinions weren’t going to help her find her personal truth.
If some man showed up at her door, she’d laugh so this cowboy hat man, he’d do the same.
Her mind buzzed. This was a bad, bad, bad idea. However, if she was allowed to stay on his farm, nobody would find her. It was worth at least trying. So she met both of her friend’s gazes and said, “If I go, you cannot tell my brothers or anyone where I am. I want to be on my own.”
Valentina nodded. “My siblings are married to yours so your family doesn’t exactly scare me, Catherine.”
Camila turned off the water from rinsing the dishes. “And even though I’m from the California black sheep side of the family, we’re cousins. Just text and we’ll ride to your rescue.”
Valentina opened her laptop and a moment later Catherine’s phone dinged with an address she’d sent that was in the middle of nowhere, north Florida.
She could make it there in a few hours. “Okay. Why not? But if you show up, remember I’m not Catherine.”
“What shall we call you?” Camila asked with big eyes.
Catherine Morgan was the name she was born with and her current name, but when she’d been adopted and lived in a normal, every-day family, she’d been someone else. It would be nice to be simple and uncomplicated again so she lifted her chin and said, “Jess Taylor. I’ll be back for Peter’s wedding, but if I do call or text, bring my sister, Tess.”
“On it.” Valentina opened her arms for a hug.
Camila joined and the three of them hugged. As the moment ended, Catherine pushed her hair out of her face and said, “Thanks.”
This plan wasn’t thought out. She hadn’t weighed all her options but she’d go on her instincts. Being Jess again meant none of Catherine’s problems mattered. For now she’d knock on the door of another world and just see what she was capable of–what could happen to her on a farm?