.
Even without his hands holding her steady, Mena knew without a doubt she was skillfully captured. If she thought her look was special, all she had to do was stare into Morgan’s eyes to know who was the master at seduction, his brown eyes a tantalizing promise of something far more satisfying than anything Mena’s look actually promised, the gold ring inducing a daring hunger in her blood.
She licked her lips and saw his gaze move there.
“What is it that you want?” he asked.
“I want you to come to dinner.”
His gaze rose, and she thoughts she might faint at just how gorgeous he was. “This evening?”
“No. After our party.”
He smiled, and her knees went weak. “So, you’ll marry me?”
“Yes.” She had to. Creed needed her to just like Creed needed this dinner to happen. Morgan could save him.
But Creed wasn’t the only reason she wanted to marry this man. This look he was giving her at the moment was the seal to her fate. She wanted that look upon her always. She wanted Morgan’s dark gaze that was always full of heated promises with her until the end of time. That adoring look was more than she’d ever hoped for in a husband. She’d been adored by her father. She’d been adored by Creed, but this was different. Morgan’s adoration seemed to encompass all of her, even the parts he didn’t know about yet. She even liked the way he held her so possessively. She wanted to be someone’s. She wanted to be treasured, and she was nearly sure that Morgan would do it.
“I’m glad,” he told her. “I want you to be my wife, Philomena, and had I not been stabbed yesterday, I would be on my knee begging for your hand.”
She leaned forward, and their heads touched. “Do you believe we’ll be happy?”
His hands went down to her hands, and their fingers locked together. “I believe I’ll try to see to it.”
“As will I.”
“I want a short engagement,” he said with a grin. “The shorter the better.” His voice lowered on the last.
She let out a shaky breath. “All right, and you’ll come to dinner?”
He chuckled. “I don’t believe I wish to eat dinner without you again.”
Her heart shook at that confession. She closed her eyes. “I feel the same way, though… but there would be a very special guest on this particular evening.” She’d thought to get his promise without telling him that Creed would be there, but it seemed the wrong thing to do. He should know, be prepared, or simply not do it at all if the evening were to be bearable for him.
He slipped her hands behind her back and before she knew it, they were restrained with one hand. His other caressed her cheek. “Who would be our special guest?”
She knew the moment would change once she uttered his name, but saw no way around it. “Creed.”
Morgan released her and leaned away, his expression closed. “No.”
She grabbed his jaw once more. “You said I could have anything.”
He wrapped his hands around hers and said, “Not this.” His eyes were hard.
Her heart raced. “Please. He’s been like a father to me. He’s very important to me, Morgan. You don’t know him as I do.”
“No, it is you who is blind.” His face had lost all its warmth. “If you put us in the same room, it will end in disaster, Philomena.”
Her stomach dropped, and she looked away. “Very well.” It seemed there was nothing she could do to bring the two together. Morgan obviously hated Creed and not even her words of praise or her confession of how much he meant to her would change his mind. The pain that caused burned in her eyes, and she took deep breaths to battle the tears that wished to fall. She tried to take her hands from his, but his hold on her was tight. She looked at him once more and saw his eyes had softened slightly.
“I don’t wish to upset you,” he told her.
She shook her head and finally managed to break one hand free of him just as a tear fell. “No, don’t worry. It was foolish of me to ask.”
“Philomena.”
When he reached for her, she backed away. “I’m all right.”
“You’re not. I’ve hurt you. I swore I wouldn’t.”
She met his eyes and put on a smile. “You seem better. I should go so you can rest.”
He glared. “You’re manipulating me again.”
Her eyes widened. “No, I’m actually trying to not manipulate you.” Another tear escaped, and she wiped furiously at it. “I don’t want you to be moved by my weeping, so I should go. If you feel that the dinner will be a disaster, I believe you.” She turned toward the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Philomena.”
She was halfway across the room when she felt herself being turned around. Her lungs seized at just how quickly he’d moved. She’d never even heard him take a step. Morgan held both her arms, and his face lowered until he was staring into her eyes.
She wasn’t sure how long he simply looked at her, but it seemed to go on for longer than a minute.
“You’re not being manipulative.”
She shook her head. “No. I would never put my uncle in harm’s way.”
His eyes widened. “You think I’d attack him at dinner?”
“You said it would end in disaster. Was that not what your words implied?”
His gaze turned away. “They might have implied something of that nature.”
She touched his chest. “I don’t want him come between us, Morgan.”
“Neither do I.” He lifted his hands and touched her cheek once more, and she watched his jaw work aggressively as he thought.
She closed her eyes.
“You better put everything you have into this kiss or I’ll know if you’re holding back.”
She gasped at him. “You’ll do it?”
“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll do anything you want. I even swear not to kill him.”
She smiled brightly and felt her heart expand in her chest, nearly growing too big to be contained.
He tilted her head up, and his eyes darkened. “I still require a kiss.”
The challenge of kissing him the way he wished was just as frightening as it was thrilling, but she’d put everything she had into it if it would get the two most important men in her life in the same room.
Having only kissed once before in her life and that one time being long ago with a young boy, she wasn’t entirely sure how she would begin.
Morgan seemed to understand this and took her hand. He slipped it behind his head, and he placed the other on his shoulder before he left her hands there and leaned forward. He stopped a breath away from her, and she inhaled his spicy aroma before completing the distance.
She pressed her lips to his and found Morgan’s mouth was soft, and the soft groan he released invited her to do more. She pressed harder and was shocked when his hands touched her waist and pulled her closer, aligning their bodies with their mouths. She opened her mouth slightly, and the feel of Morgan’s touch on her lips sent shooting pleasure up her spine. He licked his way past her lips, and the kiss became something more erotic than Mena had been prepared for. She tilted her head to get closer and the fingers at the back of his head spread through his hair.
Thoughts of Creed and dinner vanished as Morgan showed her just what it was to give oneself over to a kiss. As he taught, she paid attention, her own need for more rising. His taste was soothing and warm, and hunger pooled in her stomach as she consumed him. She dared to wrestle his tongue and quickly found that kissing could encompass play. She’d always loved games, a challenge, to win. A roar of greed swept through her, crawling from her throat in a deep purr before she latched her fingers in his hair and anchored him down upon her.
He broke from the kiss with a curse and when his eyes settled on her, they were like two pools of liquid heat. “That was—”
She didn’t let him finish. She curled on her toes and stole the rest of his words from his lips using her own. Her hand at the back of his neck gathered him even closer until their bodies meshed together. Even still, she pressed closer, moaning, purring, wanting more of him.
He broke from her again and took a few stumbling steps away from her, his hands put out as if to ward her off. “We must stop this or there will be no engagement party.”
Her eyes flashed and some of her hunger fled. “Why not?”
“Because, we’d be married before the sun set.”
The longing in her belly purred back to life and she smiled.
He touched his mouth hesitantly and then his jaw before running his hands through his mussed hair. A dazed expression still remained in his eyes. “You’ll have your dinner.”
She lifted a brow.
He chuckled. “With Creed, I mean.”
She laughed as well and touched her cheeks before placing the back of her hand against her brow. “Oh, pardon me.”
“It’s all right.” He filled the distance that he’d set between them and touched her cheek. “It’s good to know I’m not the only one who got lost in the throes of passion.”
“Passion,” she whispered when she’d meant to only say it in her head. Since she was already speaking, she looked away and said, “I hope you liked it. I hope you liked the kiss.”
He touched her chin, and she found him to still be grinning. “Do you actually require a reply to that question?”
She bit her lower lip to keep from smiling and failed. “No, I suppose not.”
He chuckled deep in his throat. She felt it when he pressed his lips against hers. He kept talking with their mouths touching, a gesture so intimate it startled her. “Of course, we’ll not be alone. I’ll bring Simon and the others.”
She wasn’t sure she liked the idea of so many others present and tried to lean away before she spoke, but Morgan captured the back of her head as well as the small of her back, which prevented any great movement. “I believe it would be best if we were alone.”
With their heads so close, Philomena felt as though she had front row seats to a theatre when Morgan’s eyes changed, no detail left out of the sudden shift from humor to cool sobriety. He leaned away before he spoke. “They have to come, Philomena. Otherwise, there can be no dinner. You get Creed to agree to that and I’ll come.”
She didn’t understand why his friends had to be present. She liked them all well enough but feared the others might distract Morgan and Creed from truly forming a close bond… or they could distract Morgan from attempts at killing her uncle. That thought made her nod. “All right. I’ll invite him.”
He frowned and asked, “How do you communicate with him? Where do you meet?”
She made her own expression blank and said, “I can’t say. My uncle is hiding from the public.”
“But you do see one another,” he pressed.
She placed her hands on his chest and pushed. Her efforts did nothing but irritate her. “I’m not to say, Morgan.”
“Surely, you can tell your fiancé where your uncle hides.” He lifted a dark brow.
She mirrored his expression. “Oh, so you’re willing to storm into the only place he finds any peace as opposed to having a simple dinner at my house?”
“Your uncle doesn’t deserve peace.” She saw the regret fill his eyes right after the word left him, but it was too late.
She ducked from his hold and spun out of his embrace. He started to lean toward her but stumbled and instead grabbed hold of a nearby chair. His other hand went to his side, pressing on his wound.
“Oh, are you all right?” She started toward him again.
He grabbed her the moment she was close enough, and all signs of his former injury vanished. He grinned, and she wondered how she’d fallen for his act of helplessness… twice!
His arms went around her. “Be happy that I’m coming to dinner.”
“I will,” she whispered, her back straight as she told herself to not yield. “Now, I must go.”
“Don’t be upset.” He leaned toward her throat and planted a small kiss on the edge of her high collar.
She closed her eyes but popped them open before he straightened. “I’m not.” Though she very much was. She was saddened by the fact that she was tying herself to this man, her emotions becoming entangled with him, but what she had with Morgan might never be shared with Creed.
“You are upset.” He could read her so clearly.
“I just want you to like him.”
He stole her lips for a quick kiss, but when he pulled away, his eyes were sad. He opened his mouth to speak, but a knock sounded on the door just before it opened.
Philomena stepped away as Warren’s presence filled the doorway.
“We have the song,” he said before his eyes settled on Philomena. Then he smiled and said, “Oh, sorry if I’m interrupting. I thought he was resting.”
She gasped and turned to Morgan. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”
“I’m supposed to be doing whatever I like,” he murmured with a narrowed look at Warren. Then he turned to her, and his expression softened. “Thank you for coming, Philomena. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The party was to happen during the day in the Durham mansion’s back garden. Philomena didn’t even know who would be there. She was nervous around most people until they were friends and thankfully, she usually made friends quickly.
She turned to Warren. “You and Sopherina will come, won’t you?”
His grin remained in place. “We wouldn’t miss it. Simon, Marianne, Lucas, and Nora will be there as well.”
“Excellent.” She knew when she was being dismissed and started for the door, but Morgan grabbed her hand, which stopped her.
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed them gently. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” she whispered and flowed out of the room wearing a smile.