Free Just One Kiss by Samantha James

to be insensitive."
    "Of course. You couldn't have known. I never told you."
    Morgan frowned. "You look a trifle pale. Would you like some brandy?"
    "Yes. Please."
    He moved to pour a generous splash into a crystal snifter. As he handed it to her, their fingers barely touched—hers were as cold as a winter wind.
    She choked a bit on the first hearty swallow. Her eyes began to water and she coughed.
    Morgan smiled faintly. "Sip it," he cautioned. "Otherwise it will burn."
    He positioned himself on the corner of his desk, arms crossed over his waistcoat, long legs stretched out before him. He watched as she followed his advice, lifting the glass to her lips again and again. Gradually two spots of color began to bloom on her cheeks. He waited until she was more calm before he spoke. "I'm a bit confused, Elizabeth. You said before that you'd been disinherited. Why would your father do such a thing?"
    "Oh, he didn't," she said quickly. "It was his wife."
    "His wife… your mother?"
    Her generous mouth turned down. "Heavens, no. My mother died when I was just a child. It was my stepmother who disinherited me. In Papa's will, he left matters almost entirely in her hands. But Hayden Park, our country estate in Kent, was to pass to me on the occasion of my marriage. But Papa—faith, but I can't imagine what he was thinking!—left the task of finding a husband to Clarissa."
    Morgan frowned. "What about Nathaniel?"
    Her eyes darkened. "Well, I hadn't yet told Papa about Nathaniel's proposal… He was so very ill… he died before I could. And Clarissa never did like me, you see—or Nathaniel either. So when Papa died, she proposed to marry me to Lord Harry Carlton." She shuddered. "Oh, what a horrid man! I hated the way he looked at me! Strange as it sounds, it was as if he wanted to—to eat me with his eyes!"
    Morgan's gaze dropped to her mouth, wandered down the slender length of her throat, and back to her lips. He didn't find it strange at all. But he listened quietly, though he had a very good idea indeed what had happened.
    "I didn't need Clarissa to find a husband for me," Elizabeth went on. "I'd already found one! But she simply wouldn't accept Nathaniel as my choice. And when I refused to marry Lord Harry instead, she disinherited me!"
    The softness of her lower lip thrust out in a pout. Morgan struggled to withhold a laugh. She reminded him for all the world of a child who was angry and resentful that she hadn't got her way.
    By now her glass was empty. She gazed down at it, a faint consternation puckering her brow. Then she raised her head and held out the glass. "Might I have a bit more, please?"
    Morgan moved to oblige. But as he handed it back to her, she frowned anew. He raised his brow in silent query.
    "Won't you have some, too?"
    He gently refused. "I drink but rarely, I'm afraid."
    "Papa used to say he didn't know a man who wasn't fond of his port, if you know what I mean."
    Morgan allowed a faint smile to curl his lips. "I suspect that's all too true, I'm afraid. Indeed, my own father partook far too freely, which is why I resolved at an early age not to make the same mistake." He paused. "Didn't Nathaniel tell you?"
    She shook her head. "He talked mostly about the places he'd been, what he'd done there. And his home here, as well as the shipbuilding…" She stopped short, as if she'd just realized what she'd said. "That is to say,
this
house, and
your
business. Why, if you recall, I didn't even know he had a brother."
    Morgan said nothing, for what was there to say? It came as no surprise that Nathaniel had embellished his own worth quite outrageously. He hesitated, then almost in spite of himself, he spoke. "How on earth did the two of you ever meet?"
    "We met at an afternoon garden fete given by the daughter of an acquaintance of my father." She sighed. "He was quite dashing, you know. I confess, I'd heard about him before we met. He was the talk of London—handsome and charming and ever so debonair. I