The Right One (One and Only Series)

by Samanthya Wyatt

  The bottom fell out of Morgan’s stomach. Kat? Did he dare believe she cried for him?

  “She’d have my hide if she knew I was here, mind ya. You will not tell her.” Stephen gave a threatening glare.

  “She will not hear of your visit from me.” His size was one thing, but the scowl on his face could make a normal man’s heart stop from sheer terror.

  Stephen poured more brandy, raised his glass in a salute, and then downed the contents. “She says she’s fine. But I know she’s not. She don’t eat. She’s too thin. What are you gonna do about it?”

  Morgan choked. The cognac stuck somewhere between his throat and his nose.

  “Take matters in hand like a man. Or you’ll have to deal with me—Kat or no.”

  When Morgan got his voice back, he croaked like a frog. “What can I do about it? She won’t have anything to do with me.”

  “Come now, Whetherford.” Stephen swirled the glass around as he spoke. “Don’t you know how a woman works? She says one thing and most times means another. You just have to know which is which.”

  “This is one time I definitely think your sister hates me.”

  Stephen’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward in his chair. “Why is that, I wonder? Something happen I should know about?”

  Good God. He can’t know.

  Morgan searched his mind for something that would send Stephen’s mind in another direction. “It was my fault Kat was kidnapped.”

  “Oh, that weren’t your fault.” He settled back into the leather. “A greedy woman wanted what’s yours. A foolish woman for taking my sister. Lucky your man got to her before I did.”

  Morgan wanted to do some throttling of his own. But his love for Kat outweighed his retaliation toward Juliana. Still, if not for him, Kat would never have been in Juliana’s clutches.

  “Of course it’s my fault. Juliana thought to use Kat against me.”

  “That’s over and done.” He threw back his head and upended the glass.

  “Look, Stephen. I just don’t think she’ll have me.”

  “Then why is she crying her eyes out over you?”

  That stunned him. She went to Stephen.

  “I had hoped to speak with her, return her to her family and plan a life for the two of us—together. You were there. She wouldn’t even talk to me.”

  “And then there’s Aunt Elizabeth. I don’t like the worry in her eyes, neither.” Stephen help up the empty bottle and wiggled it back and forth.

  Damn, the man could drink. Morgan got up to get more. After handing a full bottle over, he lowered his frame in the leather seat and picked up his own which was still two thirds full.

  “Do you care for my sister or not?”

  He didn’t hold back, did he? “Yes. I care a great deal for your sister. I have the most honorable intentions.”

  “Then do something about it.” Stephen rested the bottle on his knee and set the empty glass on the table. “I know you have a reputation. Yes, I heard you were the dark devil. But I’m here to tell you, you needn’t worry about that with me. And it don’t have nothing to do with you sending men to find me. I can take a man’s measure, and I accepted what I saw.”

  Stephen leaned on the chair’s arm, his gaze pierced Morgan through to the inside.

  “And if my sister wants you, she’ll have ya. If you plan to make an honest woman of her, that is.”

  Had he heard right? Just like that?

  God, how he missed her.

  “You love your sister enough to give her a man you don’t like?”

  “Never said I didn’t like you. Never said I didn’t respect you.” Stephen settled back in the leather. “From what I hear from my uncle, you’re a man to be trusted.”

  Morgan’s ears tightened and he sharpened his gaze.

  “Don’t worry. My uncle is very careful with his secrets. I know he has what I’d call special friends. I don’t ask questions. But he did say you could be trusted. That’s enough for me.”

  Never give up, never surrender. For years he’d lived by those words. Those words kept him going—directed his every thought—every move. And now . . . admit defeat? Or fight.

  Fight for what? She had made her intentions quite clear. His precious Kat had turned her lovely back on him. Him and his damnable pride.

  Kat had wormed her way under his skin. Without consciously knowing, he had opened his heart to love. He loved her. From the very center of his soul, he loved her. He wished to God he could make her love him. And Stephen had just offered him a chance.

  He didn’t know what the future would be—he only knew he did not have one without her.

  Stephen picked up his glass and poured a generous amount of liquid. He tossed it back and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “Like I said. She can’t know. Here’s what we’ll do.”

  Chapter 32

  Kat closed the door to her uncle’s country house and pulled off her gloves. She still missed Morgan, but she was stronger now and her exhilarating morning rides helped. She had accepted a life without Morgan. Aunt Liz convinced her it was time to go on living and not throw her life away. To cherish the love she had for Morgan—put it in its proper place—her memories. Her loving family was all she needed!

  She headed for the stairs.

  “So. You’re back are you? What are you doing here?” Her brother’s loud voice carried up the stairs. And he sounded agitated.

  “I came to see Katherine.”

  Kat halted with one boot on the step above. Morgan?

  “Why?” Her brother asked in a tone that brooked no argument.

  “That is our business.”

  Good Lord. What is he doing here?

  “I’m making it my business.”

  She could just imagine Stephen standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest with the well-known deportment that he used when on the deck of his ship. His already harsh voice grew louder.

  Oh, no.

  She hurried down the stairs and ran to the drawing room only to come to a dead halt at the door. Morgan. The one man she thought she’d never see again. Her eyes riveted on his tall form. Black curls brushed the top of his dark coat. Her fingers tingled at the remembered softness, like silk against her fingers. Broad shoulders, her hands had spanned and caressed with loving tenderness. She closed her eyes. Immediately, longed-for visions of lovemaking flooded her mind. He’s here. Her chest squeezed the breath in her lungs.

  “I want to put things right.” Morgan’s voice rocked her to her toes. Then his words registered.

  Blast his guilt.

  Her eyes flew to Stephen when he shouted again. “Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?” Stephen’s fierce expression assured her he was ready to use his fists.

  This could only get worse. Knowing her brother’s fierce temper, she should know better than to attempt to defuse an already volatile situation. She ran to her brother. “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” Stephen fired back.

  “Stephen . . . Stop!”

  “Stay out of this, Katherine!” Stephen shouted with a little less volume.

  “No!”

  “Damn it, Kat. Be still,” Morgan echoed.

  Before she could chastise Morgan for his rebuke, he and Stephen were at it again.

  “Do not speak so to my sister. I will split your gullet.” Stephen’s arms were elevated at his sides as though he prepared to strangle his opponent.

  “Try it.” Morgan retorted in a deadly undertone.

  Stephen had barely taken a step when Kat jumped and threw her arms around him, as much as she could reach. “I won’t let you. I love you. Please don’t.” Tears streamed down her face. When she looked up, Stephen glared at Morg
an over her head.

  “Now see what you’ve done. Her tears are your doing.”

  “Stephen, please.”

  “Aww, Kitten.” He held her so tight she thought her ribs would crack.

  “Stephen, not so tight.”

  He loosened his grip. After a long, tension-filled moment, he took her shoulders and eased her away. The love in his eyes made her want to weep all over again.

  “You look so much like our mother.” With a firm finger curled under her chin, Stephen lifted her face and studied her eyes. His thumb wiped the lingering tears from her lashes. “Does he mean so much to you then?”

  With a trembling lip, Kat nodded.

  Stephen glanced up and scowled, his words directed to Morgan. “I would speak with you alone.” At Kat’s indrawn breath, he met her gaze and his gruff voice softened. “It will be all right, Kitten.”

  She loved her brother and trusted him with everything in her. Even so, she hesitated.

  “Go on, now. It will be alright.” His eyes conveyed his love for her and his assurance to trust him.

  She’d avoided looking at Morgan since she entered. She didn’t dare do so now. One look and she’d fall madly into his arms. Her fear of being rejected again kept her eyes aimed to the floor. Why was he here anyway? With a deep breath and her head held high, she carefully placed one foot in front of the other until she was safely out of the room.

  She paced the carpet on the parlor floor. She had accepted that any future for them had been merely a fantasy in her mind, a hope in her heart. She never expected to see him again and certainly not in her uncle’s home.

  The mental upheaval she’d suffered returned to her in full force. Her heart torn asunder, she’d had to accept one little detail—Morgan did not love her. But—God help her—she would forever love him.

  Her fierce, over-protective brother. He cared so much for her, he was willing to be civil to a man she knew he wanted to tear apart. He thought Morgan unworthy of a decent hearing, let alone his precious little sister’s attention. Yet, Stephen’s gesture, that he would tolerate and even accept Morgan, for her. His loving, caring nature brought Kat to tears.

  If only she could have that kind of love—that kind of loyalty—that kind of trust with Morgan.

  Kat stopped in the middle of the floor, she pounded one fist to the open palm of her other hand. What was Morgan doing here? Had he come for her? Nonsense. She knew they could never be. He proved how much he wanted her.

  Lust.

  Morgan would never love her, no matter how much she wished it could happen.

  What was going on behind those closed doors? She didn’t hear any more yelling. No loud noises like furniture being overturned.

  The sound of Morgan clearing his throat sent alarming signals down Kat’s spine. She tensed, knowing he’d entered without her being aware of his presence. She didn’t want him to know how—just seeing him again—affected her. Kat wished that she had never laid eyes on him. Taking a deep breath for composure, she turned to look in his direction.

  Her body swayed at the sight of her love standing there. Her hungry eyes devoured him. How she missed seeing that unruly curl hanging over his brow. She fought to control her fingers as—on impulse—she yearned to touch. Hunger flashed in his eyes and a wave of heat instantly consumed her with a force as powerful and as strong as the last time he’d held her in those familiar, robust arms. A shiver ran down her spine. She still craved him with every fiber of her being. Yet, she had to hide her sorrow at unrequited love.

  She willed her mind to be strong. To get through this torment. “Morgan, I’ve done a lot of thinking.”

  “I’ve done a lot of thinking, too.”

  Hearing his deep voice weakened her resolve. His whiskey hum vibrated from her chest, through her stomach and on down to curl her toes. She faltered. Hating the weakness that claimed her body, she forced her mind to remember what happened. Gathering her courage, she met his gaze. “We have no power over love. It just happens and you have no control.” Like she could not kill the love she had for him, he could not offer love that did not exist.

  “I’m glad you see that.”

  Did he have to agree with her? She wished him to the devil. “I’m not mad at you. I don’t hate you.”

  “I certainly hope not.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a grin.

  Ignoring the ache in her heart, she continued, “I understand.”

  “And what is it you understand? Kat, I—”

  “I really do.” She cut off what he was about to say. The smirk on his face made her more determined to sound positive.

  “I’m not sure you do,” he replied.

  “But, I do.”

  “Kat.” Morgan frowned. “Will you at least let me tell you why I’m here?”

  “I know why.” The fingers of one hand clutched the other as she tried to sound care free. “You don’t need to feel guilty.”

  “I don’t feel guilty,” he said.

  “Oh.” And here she was trying to make him feel better? The confident poop. How could she let him break her heart again?

  Morgan took a step forward. “Let me explain.”

  “There’s no need to explain. I told you. I’m not mad at you.” She scooted around the floral-patterned chair to have something between them.

  “Mad at me? I expected you to be furious with me.” He took another step in her direction.

  Kat gasped at his advance. “No, Morgan. I . . .”

  She’d been determined to be strong and now she was about to fall apart. She still couldn’t believe that he stood here in this very room. The trembling started and she feared her lip would quiver and he would see. Don’t you dare cry. She moved a few steps away.

  “Let me explain.”

  “No!” Her self-control slipping, her voice came out stronger and sharper than she had intended. “I told you. You don’t owe me . . .”

  “Bloody hell! Will you listen to me?”

  How dare he yell at her? Gathering her anger around her like a cloak, she arched her back, and faced him like a warrior preparing for battle—her voice cold when she spoke. “Of course.”

  “Damn it, Kat! I’m sorry. This isn’t going the way I’d planned.” Morgan ran his fingers through his hair displaying frustration.

  In control of her emotions, Kat leveled a detestable stare on him. “What was it you planned?”

  “Well, I came here thinking maybe you’d . . . well . . . you’d be glad to see me.”

  His stare probed her—as if waiting for an encouraging reaction. She wouldn’t give him one.

  “I had hoped you still cared for me as I do you.”

  If only he did.

  She loved him with all her heart to the very depth and breadth of her being. She chose her words carefully. “I do care for you.”

  Morgan let out a relieved breath. “That’s good.” He reached for her hands. “I intend to make you my bride.”

  She tore her hands away. “That’s not necessary.”

  “Will you stop?” Morgan shouted his annoyance.

  With a raised brow, she gave her best cutting look.

  He stood there brooding. After a long maddening moment, his stormy brow softened and he gave a heavy sigh. When he angled his chin, his mouth formed a pained line. “Kat. I love you.”

  Her heart cramped with regret. How long she had waited to hear those words. She’d dreamed of this very moment, of him expressing his love. It made her heart break even more to know he did not mean them. Not to her. She tried to erase the memory of his kisses and the sensations he had caused within her.

  Relying on sheer strength of mind, she uttered the words she hoped would set her free from the turmoil in her soul. “You don’t love me. And I wish you would no
t pretend that you do.”

  Morgan’s head flew back in shock. He recovered and prowled forward. “You must believe me.”

  She held up a hand to hold him off. If he touched her, she would crumble. She had to put an end to this once and for all. She did not want to be a substitute. She did not want his love out of guilt. She wanted him heart, body and soul. If she could not have that, she did not want him at all. “I do not love you.”

  “The hell you say!” If the situation had not been so serious and the pain not so intense, the look on his outraged face could have been laughable. His narrowed eyes studied her. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Please don’t make this more difficult.” She stood taller. Back straighter. Taking a deep breath, she kept her face a cold mask—for she had to convince him—and herself—it was over.

  “I know there is no one else. I did not imagine your feelings for me. I took your virginity!”

  Humiliation seeped through her core. “Don’t you think I know that? I don’t need your damned guilt. Get out!” Unable to stand there another moment, she gathered her skirts.

  Chapter 33

  What he’d just seen scared the hell out of him. His beloved Kat. His spirited Kat. The cold portraying woman before him had a crack in her make-believe rigid shell. He was not fooled by her pretense. Sparks still flew between the two of them, which proved it could not be his imagination. She did love him.

  Morgan knew he’d handled it badly. He told her he loved her and in the next breath he yelled that he’d taken her maidenhead. Good God, he’d mucked that up. What was she supposed to think?