Read Online Just One Kiss by Samantha James - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Samantha James
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teeth. Such was hardly the case. Yet if not that, then… what? He didn't know—and he didn't dare search for the answer.
"In fact," Stephen continued lightly, "I find myself wondering if you don't have eyes for the lady yourself."
Morgan's mouth was a grim slash in his face. He said not a word.
"I must say, it's perfectly understandable. She's a fetching sight indeed. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Very," said Morgan between his teeth.
Stephen sighed. "But you're right, I'm afraid. She belongs to neither of us." He paused thoughtfully. "Frankly, I just can't envision her with me, though I admit, I still have a difficult time picturing her with Nathaniel. Just think, your brother with an English lady, a genuine lady of the realm!" He laughed in obvious mirth. "And the idea of her with you… why, it's utterly preposterous! But altogether amusing, don't you think?"
Morgan glared.
"No? Ah, well." Stephen untangled his legs and got to his feet. "Oh, and by the way, I've seen you so seldom, I almost forgot to tell you… I'm having a ball tomorrow evening. I thought it might be good for Elizabeth to get out amongst people. Besides, it's time we introduced the lady to Boston society, don't you think? Oh, and you needn't worry. I won't let it be known she's been staying with you. I thought I might say she's a distant cousin of mine. And I'll arrange it so that she arrives before the other guests and leaves afterward."
Before Morgan could say a word, Stephen ambled forward. "I think it's time I took my leave. No need to call Simmons, I'll see myself out," he said with a wave of his hand.
Morgan was already at the entryway to his study by the time the front door closed. Yet he didn't enter straightaway. His gaze swept the room until it found Elizabeth. She was sitting in the low-backed chair before his desk, her back to him. She was as still as a statue, her head bowed low and her hands clasped in her lap. Her hair was swept high upon her crown. A few stray wisps escaped, curling almost lovingly against the sweep of her nape.
What held him there, Morgan didn't know. Instead he stood on the threshold, his eyes fixed on the delicate span of her neck, her nape bare and enticing. He knew instinctively that if he were to touch her there, her skin would be smooth and downy soft… Abruptly he became angry with himself. What nonsense was he about, to have such thoughts about his brother's intended? It was merely what Stephen had suggested, outrageous though it was. He wasn't attracted to her—no, not in the slightest.
At length he approached her. She glanced up when he took a seat behind his desk.
Her gaze eagerly searched his features. "You wished to speak to me about Nathaniel, didn't you?" Her tone was breathless. "You've had news of him then?"
He hesitated. "The detective I sent out learned nothing," he heard himself say. "He searched the entire East Coast, but there's been no sign of him. For all we know, he could be clear across the continent."
Her face fell. It was as if he could see her spirit plunging. In that moment he almost hated himself.
"Can't you keep look— No, no, of course you can't." He heard the ragged breath she drew. "I'm sorry. It's just that I was hoping so… and when you said he'd probably return eventually—"
"That could be a year from now. For all I know, ten years from now."
She averted her gaze, and he knew she was fighting for control. "I'm grateful for all you've done, Mr. O'Connor. Truly I am."
Morgan
, he wanted to shout.
My name is Morgan
.
Instead he said, "Of course, you see now there is no point in staying. Go back to your father, Elizabeth. Go back and—"
"I can't." Her tone was almost wild. She was wringing her hands. "Don't you see? I
can't
!"
"No, frankly, I don't see—"
"He's dead. My father is dead. He was buried two weeks before I set sail for Boston."
It was his turn to look away. The raw pain in her voice made him feel like the world's biggest fool. "Forgive me. I don't mean
"In fact," Stephen continued lightly, "I find myself wondering if you don't have eyes for the lady yourself."
Morgan's mouth was a grim slash in his face. He said not a word.
"I must say, it's perfectly understandable. She's a fetching sight indeed. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Very," said Morgan between his teeth.
Stephen sighed. "But you're right, I'm afraid. She belongs to neither of us." He paused thoughtfully. "Frankly, I just can't envision her with me, though I admit, I still have a difficult time picturing her with Nathaniel. Just think, your brother with an English lady, a genuine lady of the realm!" He laughed in obvious mirth. "And the idea of her with you… why, it's utterly preposterous! But altogether amusing, don't you think?"
Morgan glared.
"No? Ah, well." Stephen untangled his legs and got to his feet. "Oh, and by the way, I've seen you so seldom, I almost forgot to tell you… I'm having a ball tomorrow evening. I thought it might be good for Elizabeth to get out amongst people. Besides, it's time we introduced the lady to Boston society, don't you think? Oh, and you needn't worry. I won't let it be known she's been staying with you. I thought I might say she's a distant cousin of mine. And I'll arrange it so that she arrives before the other guests and leaves afterward."
Before Morgan could say a word, Stephen ambled forward. "I think it's time I took my leave. No need to call Simmons, I'll see myself out," he said with a wave of his hand.
Morgan was already at the entryway to his study by the time the front door closed. Yet he didn't enter straightaway. His gaze swept the room until it found Elizabeth. She was sitting in the low-backed chair before his desk, her back to him. She was as still as a statue, her head bowed low and her hands clasped in her lap. Her hair was swept high upon her crown. A few stray wisps escaped, curling almost lovingly against the sweep of her nape.
What held him there, Morgan didn't know. Instead he stood on the threshold, his eyes fixed on the delicate span of her neck, her nape bare and enticing. He knew instinctively that if he were to touch her there, her skin would be smooth and downy soft… Abruptly he became angry with himself. What nonsense was he about, to have such thoughts about his brother's intended? It was merely what Stephen had suggested, outrageous though it was. He wasn't attracted to her—no, not in the slightest.
At length he approached her. She glanced up when he took a seat behind his desk.
Her gaze eagerly searched his features. "You wished to speak to me about Nathaniel, didn't you?" Her tone was breathless. "You've had news of him then?"
He hesitated. "The detective I sent out learned nothing," he heard himself say. "He searched the entire East Coast, but there's been no sign of him. For all we know, he could be clear across the continent."
Her face fell. It was as if he could see her spirit plunging. In that moment he almost hated himself.
"Can't you keep look— No, no, of course you can't." He heard the ragged breath she drew. "I'm sorry. It's just that I was hoping so… and when you said he'd probably return eventually—"
"That could be a year from now. For all I know, ten years from now."
She averted her gaze, and he knew she was fighting for control. "I'm grateful for all you've done, Mr. O'Connor. Truly I am."
Morgan
, he wanted to shout.
My name is Morgan
.
Instead he said, "Of course, you see now there is no point in staying. Go back to your father, Elizabeth. Go back and—"
"I can't." Her tone was almost wild. She was wringing her hands. "Don't you see? I
can't
!"
"No, frankly, I don't see—"
"He's dead. My father is dead. He was buried two weeks before I set sail for Boston."
It was his turn to look away. The raw pain in her voice made him feel like the world's biggest fool. "Forgive me. I don't mean
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