The Right One (One and Only Series)

by Samanthya Wyatt

  Up to this point, Morgan had embraced freedom. He answered to no one other than himself. He had taken his pleasure with the thirst of a dying man whenever and wherever he happened to be—for who knew, the next mission could be the end of his cursed existence.

  Then Katherine appeared—forcefully—right in the middle of his organized life, disrupting his well thought out plans. He huffed out a breath and braced his boot on the fountain. He’d come to his grandfather’s garden for solace. Katherine’s presence lingered.

  Just thinking about her gave him a feeling of contentment. A long term relationship with her—here. In his home. Where he could see her every day. Make love to her every night. Her breathtaking body joined with his. Her thighs locked around his hips. Her breathless pants while he stroked in and out of her.

  Bloody hell!

  Morgan stared at the flowers before him. Subtle fingers caressed the delicate petals and wished her hands were caressing him.

  Good God! Was he never to strike her from his mind?

  He shoved off the stone and took three furious strides before he came up short, shoving both hands through unruly hair and sighed deeply. What was wrong with him? He had to get control. She was just a damned female.

  One that twisted his guts.

  A soft crunch on the stone path alerted him. For one insane moment, he thought it was Katherine. He cursed himself for his folly before he turned.

  “What is it, Frederick?”

  “She’s here, my lord.”

  Perplexed, Morgan grumbled. “What are you going on about, old man?”

  “You have a visitor. Miss Radbourn.”

  He blinked as if Frederick had announced the house was on fire. The object of his contemplations. Had his imaginings conjured her up? His impulse to run would have shocked his servant. But why should Morgan give a damn? Except that he would not give the servants fodder for gossip by appearing like a lovesick jackass.

  “I gather Mrs. Beasley is preparing refreshment for Miss Radbourn and her aunt?”

  Frederick cleared his throat. “Miss Radbourn is alone.”

  Without a chaperone? What the bleeding hell is she doing here—alone?

  Morgan’s gaze locked on his servant. Keeping his voice calm, he asked, “Where is she?”

  “In the south drawing room.”

  As Morgan strode through the door and down the corridor, he envisaged a disaster. What urgency had brought Katherine to Whetherford? Alone. His steps quickened. When he entered the drawing room, he found her pacing madly in front of the fireplace. His breath caught. The fire cast a translucent glow around the seductive form moving back and forth. Her hands betrayed the nervousness within. Her profile in shadow, yet when she spun, the flickering flames bounced off her features and her beauty excelled from the determination of her set chin.

  She came to a sudden stop. “Lord Whetherford.”

  “Miss Radbourn.” He closed the set of doors. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned back against them. “I thought we’d settled this.”

  Her brows shot to her hairline. “What?”

  He almost hated teasing her when she looked so apprehensive. “My given name is Morgan. I enjoy hearing you use it.”

  Her breath came out in a light whoosh and her gaze lowered to the floor. Cunningly, her head rose. A smile curved one side of her mouth. “Morgan.”

  Ahh, the gleam in her eye could burn him to cinders. His heart kicked against his ribs. Taking his time, he advanced toward her. She dropped her arms by her sides. The noted stiffening of her body caused him to halt.

  “I . . . I’m sorry I arrived without notice.”

  “You’re a long way from home. I must admit, I am curious. What has brought you to my doorstep? Alone.” Her beautiful mouth hung open. Yet all he could think of was how much he wanted to kiss that mouth. “It’s not exactly proper for you to be here without a chaperone.”

  “I’m on my way to visit my friend, Charity.”

  “Forgive me for pointing this out, but isn’t the Viscount’s property in the opposite direction?”

  “Lord—I mean, Morgan,” she stammered. “I wanted you to know . . . that is . . .”

  With her temperament, he would never suspect her at a loss of words. He gestured to the sofa. “Please. Won’t you sit down?” Watching her primly smooth her gloved hands over her skirts, he stepped to the side-table and poured a splash of sherry into a crystal flute. With unwavering steps, he moved across the room and sat beside her before putting the wineglass in her hand. “Has something happened?”

  She took a sip. Her chest rose as she sucked in a deep breath.

  Dread pierced his spine. “Good God. What is it?”

  Her gaze flew to his. “Nothing. I know I should not have come alone. But, I wanted to thank you.”

  Morgan’s head spun with bewilderment. “Thank me? Many times you’ve undoubtedly cursed me to the devil. I can’t imagine why you would want to thank me.”

  Although . . . if you really wanted to thank me—full pouting lips.

  Katherine fidgeted on her lascivious bottom. “But, you see. It was you—wasn’t’ it?”

  Her pleading eyes turned him inside out. He focused on her elegant neck—wondering if the pulse in her delicate vein matched the throbbing in his cock. Quickly, he rose to his feet and tramped back to the sideboard hoping to conceal the heated quickening in his breeches. He could conceivably control his ardor as long as her eyes remained above his waistline.

  Seizing the bottle by the neck, he removed the stopper and splashed brandy into a tumbler. “I’m sorry, my dear girl. You must start at the beginning.”

  “When I came to Whetherford with my aunt, I told you about my brother, Stephen. I asked for your help.”

  Morgan recalled her tear-stained face when she’d asked him to find her brother. He dipped his head. “Go on.”

  As Katherine talked, her voice flowed over him soothing his inner beast. His gaze embraced her smooth cheeks, then wandered—caressing her delicious lips, touching her jutting chin, and cuddled her perfect swanlike neck. Following the pulsing vein down to the swells above her bodice, of which he drank freely. He raised the goblet to his lips and forced the liquid down his throat.

  “My uncle told me Stephen is coming home.” Kat’s voice grew stronger. “I know you had something to do with finding him.”

  Morgan gave a slight shrug. “I merely repeated your concern to some friends. They found him.” No need to mention Giles—or her uncle, for that matter.

  “Nevertheless, I am in your debt.”

  Morgan hated being the villain in her eyes. He hated her gratitude even more. “You give me too much credit. Have you forgotten the first time you came to my home, you were brought by force?” Why the hell did he mention that when he wanted to erase the horrible experience from her memory?

  “That was not your doing.” She took a sip of her claret and lowered her eyes. “Besides, I’ve put it behind me.”

  Had she?

  She did come here to thank him. Giles finding her brother had fortuitously dropped her into Morgan’s randy lap.

  He strode to the door and yanked it open. Just as he suspected, his servant stood at a discreet distance. “Frederick. Prepare a chamber for Miss Radbourn. She has come with an urgent message. Since it is late, she has agreed to accept my hospitality. Miss Radbourn will spend the night at Whetherford Manor and continue on her way in the morning. Please tell Mrs. Beasley two for dinner.”

  “Yes, my lord.” With a slight bow, Frederick pivoted on his heel and marched down the corridor.

  Morgan stepped back and closed the door. One look at Kat and his heart accelerated at an arresting pace. How the hell would he survive with her under his roof all night? Katherine licked her lips and his eyes fastened
on her mouth. Full-blown lava flooded his entire lower region. God, he found her intoxicating. He locked the door.

  Opportunity knocked, and he’d be damned if he’d look a gift horse in the mouth. He willed control over his body before he went out of his lecherous mind. This insane hunger—this craving—for her had to stop. One taste should take care of that.

  His gaze returned to hers—the magnetic pull irresistible—those mesmerizing green eyes. Slanted cat-like eyes, calling to him. Cat eyes . . . Kat . . . His Kat.

  With unhurried steps, he crossed the room. As if hypnotized, he never took his eyes from hers. Her spring water scent enveloped his senses. He reached out, palm open, and waited for her to place her hand in his. Dynamic sparks shocked his inner core making him mad with longing. He pulled her to him, not once taking his eyes from hers and lowered his head.

  Her eyes fluttered, then closed. That was all the invitation he needed.

  Soft lips meshed with his.

  Heaven in his arms. He deepened the kiss. Her body trembled and she readily kissed him back.

  His tongue slid between her lips, searching, delving in her depths. Her sweet nectar drowned his sanities, drawing him deeper into her hold. Fire spread through his chest. The heady sensation made him crush her against him. She clung to him while his hands roamed on a path of their own. He found the knot in her rich, dark hair and loosened the pins from their confinement. His lips made a trail down her neck to kiss the pulse at her throat. God’s blood, she had the softest skin. He had to taste her mouth again. Sweet. So sweet.

  Her breath came in quick gasps. Another bolt of desire shot to his loins making him clasp her tighter. She whimpered and moved against his frame. Every nerve stood to attention. Her young body encouraged him. His very essence strived for control. If she kept pressing against him his head would explode—both of them.

  Christ! Before it came to that, he had to govern his randy cock. She was not one to throw up her skirts and get the deed done—even if his rod was stiff and ready to burst his breeches for freedom.

  Morgan groaned and reluctantly ended the kiss. He stared down at the beauty with eyes still closed, and he almost—almost—threw caution to the wind.

  “Katherine. We are in my drawing room where servants are about. Frederick would not utter a word, but I will not give the housekeepers more to gossip about. I spent a lot of time in the scullery when I was a boy. A youth can acquire a wealth of knowledge from nattering servants.”

  He willed himself to step back, but his feet never moved. Passion-swollen lips roused and yearning eyes beckoned him.

  Morgan clasped her palm and pressed it against his chest. “Can you not feel my heart pounding?” He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip and heard her intake of breath. “I am trying to be a gentleman.” He wanted more than a quick tumble. He wanted hours and hours, maybe days, making love to her. What he really needed was the strength to control his raging lust.

  “This is what you do to me. Your beauty takes my breath away. Your voice sends chills down my spine.” He turned her delicate wrist over to place a kiss in her palm. “Your touch makes me shiver with delight. My heart pounds, and blood races through my veins just to be near you. You are exquisite beyond words.”

  Her eyes flickered.

  Holding her hand, he returned her palm to his chest, laying it across his heart, not daring to embrace her further. With his eyes closed, he drew in a deep exalting breath. “Your fragrance incites my senses.”

  Her hand caressed his chest making his nostrils flare and his breathing constrict. Soft fingers slid around his neck and she pressed her body against him, showing him what she could not voice with words.

  Young in years, young in experience, but exceedingly mature, and the loveliest mouth this side of heaven. An innocent, yet the body of a woman. How he would love to teach her all the delights in making love. His cock was stretched to the limit. There was only one way to make the ache go away.

  Like a man drowning in the ocean, he succumbed to the waves overtaking him. He covered her mouth and feasted. With both hands tilting her head, he slanted his mouth to thrust his tongue more fully into her wet haven. She trembled and gave back as much as her innocence would allow. Thrilled, Morgan tightened his embrace. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her sweetness.

  His hand moved ever so slowly to her waist, caressed her there, then circling, teased its way up pausing at her ribs. He deliberately tormented her, enticed her. Then at last he palmed her breast. His cunning tongue stroked along the line of her lips, while his fingers grazed her nipple.

  Kat pressed her body closer causing him to groan as he tried to hold sway over his passion, but her response drove him further. He could not lose control, for he would regret taking her in a hurry. A raw ache formed in his belly.

  He bent down, slipped his arm under the back of her knees and lifted her. She gripped his neck and kissed him with vigor. Placing her on the sofa, he stretched his length beside her. Keen fingers tugged her gown—inch by enticing inch. Pulling the ribbon free that held her chemise, her bountiful breasts came into full view. His gut twisted. She was a treasure beyond words. He had to taste.

  He took one pouting bud between his lips. A mewing sound escaped her and she surged toward him.

  Need gripped him in the ballocks.

  While he worshiped her with his mouth, her hands tightened in his hair. Such passion stifled his restraint. He laved her bud, and then lightly sucked. She clasped his head and twisted in his arms. Her eager, awakening body couldn’t keep still. She jerked as his teeth grazed her nipple, sending a delicious thrill of satisfaction through him. He made love to the other breast just as thoroughly and as leisurely, taking his time, relishing in her body language that begged him to move lower with his kisses.

  His hands eased their way down her sweet, soft flesh. Their clothes a barrier, he quickly made short work of the confining material. He grazed her silken thigh, anxiously seeking her pleasure spot. When he cupped her woman’s mound, Kat arched her back. His fingers parted her woman’s flesh. One finger stroked the center of her cleft, causing a shocked moan to escape from her throat. He stroked her there again. She lunged, nearly bucking him off. When he inserted his finger, she shrieked and he captured it in his mouth.

  Heart pounding, he devoured her mouth in another heated kiss and let his fingers begin their love-play. His throat convulsed as this sweet blossoming woman fastened her hands about his waist and buried her face in his throat. Open mouth kisses caressed his neck, making his cock scream for intimacy. He angled and pressed, aiming to heighten her senses, intensify her pleasure. Her ferocious movements in her raging passion inflamed his fevered mind. With everything in him, he fought the urge to thrust his throbbing cock in the wet warmth awaiting him.

  This moment was for her.

  His fingers worked their magic on her woman’s bud and she rocked wild in his arms. He inserted another finger and Kat cried out. He kissed her with vigor, thrusting his tongue in and out of her mouth, in the same manner as he thrust his fingers in and out of her slick folds.

  She stiffened and ground her head back against the cushion. Blood pounded in his temples while she exploded from his ministrations. Her body quivered and her juices flowed around his probing fingers. Guttural sounds spewed forth from her throat. He played with her until she calmed and the fingers biting into his shoulders relaxed.

  Chapter 22

  Kat opened her eyes. And bit back the gasp at the fire blazing in Morgan’s. The most wonderful sensation flowed through her body. In a sensual daze, she raised her fingers and traced his lips—the ones that had devoured her mouth and made her lose all reason.

  His hand moved, jerking her to awareness. His lower body pressed into hers. A thrill dashed through her belly at the bulge pressing there. After the thunder she’d just experienced, how was it po
ssible to encounter more? She tucked her head and clutched his sides, burrowing in his warmth.

  With one finger under her chin, he lifted, bringing her gaze to his. His expression did not change, but she’d swear his eyes darkened. He surged again.

  Pressure built anew. She couldn’t control her thoughts or her actions. Better yet, she didn’t want to. She wanted to touch him. She needed to put her hands there, where she knew she shouldn’t. More determined than ever, she was ready to experience love. Morgan’s love. Eager for him to do those unimaginable things to her body that would make her a woman.

  She ignored the niggling voice of her conscience. This dark handsome devil that electrified her to her very core. That promised her delights beyond her wildest dreams.

  Curiosity and daring had always been her weakness. Morgan made her weak with longing. She had the man of her dreams in her arms. She drove her hand lower, making her path known before she reached her goal. Holding his gaze, she inched closer and closer. His eyes glinted as if he dared her to continue. When she grazed his hardness, the breath hissed through his teeth.

  She covered him the way he had palmed her mons and wondered if he received the same intense joy. Excitement drove her movements. She squeezed. His groan of delight exhilarated her with power. When she caressed his chest through his shirt, he jerked it over his head and tossed it to the floor.

  Dark curls generously spread across finely chiseled muscle. Like a magnet that pulled, her fingers spread over the dark fur covering.

  Soft silk.

  Warm flesh over rock hardness sent contradicting signals from her fingers to her mind. She couldn’t fondle him enough.

  Soft.

  Hard.

  His chest.

  His . . .

  With a ragged curse, his hand jerked hers, and he opened his placket. His manhood burst free. “Like this, Kat. I beg you, like this.”