by Monica Burns
With a suddenness that jerked her out of her aroused state, Morgan’s large hands encircled her waist like a vise and returned her to the seat opposite him. Her breathing ragged, she looked into his eyes in bewilderment. What was wrong with him? He’d provoked this intense encounter. Why had he pushed her away? The dark hunger in his eyes made her reach out to touch his cheek. He caught her wrist and pushed her hand aside with a harsh shake of his head.
“Not like this, Julia,” he rasped as he buttoned his shirt in an unsteady fashion.
“I…I don’t understand.” Bemused by his abrupt rejection, she shook her head. “You kissed me. I…thought you…”
“I do want you, Julia. I want you more than you know.” Shoving his shirt back into his trousers, he grimaced. “But you have to come to me of your own free will.”
“I just offered myself to you, and you reject me simply to demand that I come to you,” she said fiercely.
“You didn’t offer, Julia. You gave in to desire.” His voice was implacable as he watched her with his narrowed gaze.
“I can assure you, St. Claire, if I had not wanted to be seduced, you would not have found me so willing,” she bit out through clenched teeth.
“And that’s the problem Julia. I want you to be with me by choice, not because I seduced you.” The sigh he released was one of great weariness, and her heart slammed against her chest at the sound. “If you care for me, you’ll come to me at a time of your choosing. Completely free of any enticement from me.”
“What you mean is that I have to bow to your will and beg you to take me into your bed.”
“No. I’m asking for more than that. I know how important your independence is to you, but I want to know you’re going to be there when I come home at night.”
“But you don’t have a home—you have rooms in a hotel,” she said with a sniff of derision.
“Not any longer. I’ve bought a house. A house that needs a woman’s touch. I want that woman to be you.”
The words echoed like gunfire inside the carriage. She wasn’t quite certain she’d heard him correctly, and yet she knew she had. For a long moment, she simply absorbed his news. He’d bought a house. Morgan St. Claire—confirmed bachelor, unmitigated womanizer—had bought a house.
He was up to something. She didn’t know what, but he was scheming to get his own way. First, he’d proposed marriage and now a house. There had to be some ulterior motive for his behavior. What did he want? Meeting his dark gaze from across the carriage, a tremor went through her. The open hunger and longing in his eyes did more than confuse her. It frightened her.
Dear God, could the man possibly be telling her the truth. The carriage rolled to a stop. In silence, they exited the vehicle and Morgan escorted her up the three steps to her front door. As her hand grasped the doorknob, his large hand covered hers.
“We’ll not see each other again unless you choose to be with me, Julia.” There was a grim tilt to his mouth. “Come to me. Don’t let that bastard you married win.”
Without waiting for a response, he left her standing on the front stoop and returned to his carriage. The finality in his voice made her throat close in fear. Would he really not see her again? Something told her this might be the last time she ever saw him. Inside a voice cried out for her to run after him, but she crushed the protest. No. She couldn’t agree to his terms. She would have to live without Morgan St. Claire—no matter how painful and difficult that would be.
Chapter 14
Julia passed through the main door of St. Claire Shipping, her gaze automatically flitting toward Morgan’s office door. Just as it had been for the past two weeks, the door stood open. It was a declaration that Morgan had not yet arrived.
Worrying her lip with her teeth, she walked slowly toward the small office she used. There was little need for her to even be here today. She’d finished reviewing all of Morgan’s accounting ledgers days ago, and there wasn’t much else for her to review. If she were honest with herself, the only reason she was in the shipping office was because she wanted to see Morgan.
It had been two weeks since the night he’d left her standing at her front door. When he’d left her, there had been such a finality in his demeanor. It had only been in the last week that she’d begun to realize that he’d been quite serious about not seeing her again. Her hand grasped the cool brass of the office doorknob, but she didn’t turn it. She stood there for a moment as if suspended in time.
Morgan was a good businessman. Surely, he wouldn’t stay away from the office for such a long time simply because he wanted to avoid her. Even if he were ill, she would have seen him here in the office. What if he had gone out of town on business? That would make sense. She whirled around and walked over to Morgan’s head clerk, Jeremy Crane.
“Mr. Crane, I was wondering if you could tell me where Mr. St. Claire is?”
“I’m not certain, Mrs. Westgard.” The clerk shook his head.
“Have you heard from him at all?”
“Mr. St. Claire has been working mostly at night, madam,” the clerk said with a slight frown. “He’s generally here when I arrive in the morning and leaves a short time afterward.”
“Working nights,” she gasped softly. He was avoiding her.
“He’s always kept odd hours, madam. Although, he didn’t look all that well the last time I saw him.” The man’s response made her stomach lurch. Had Morgan made himself unwell working through the night?
“When did you see him last?”
“Three days ago. He instructed me to send any paperwork needing his attention to this address until he returned.”
The clerk reached for a slip of paper resting on his desk and handed it to her. Morgan’s strong, elegant penmanship filled the sheet, and she stared at the address for a long moment. A desperate longing clutched at her heart. She needed to know he was all right. She trembled as she handed the paper back to the head shipping clerk.
“Thank you, Mr. Crane. If by chance Mr. St. Claire does come into the office today, would you please let him know that I’d like to speak with him.”
“Of course, Mrs. Westgard, of course.”
Nodding her head toward the clerk, she walked out of Morgan’s shipping office. The address Crane had shown her rolled about in her head. It was in one of the more fashionable residential neighborhoods. Could this be the house Morgan had bought? Had he simply been working at home for the past three days in an effort to avoid her or had he taken ill as Crane seemed to think?
She signaled for her carriage and gave her driver Morgan’s address before settling herself in the vehicle. It was most likely the worst mistake she could make, but she had to know nothing was wrong with him. Her head resting against the soft leather padding, she stared out the window as the carriage rolled forward.
She should call out and tell Dobson to take her home. It would be the sane thing to do. Whether Morgan had been ill or not, her sudden appearance on his doorstep would have the man thinking she’d finally decided to come to him of her own free will. Julia winced. It was true, she was coming of her own accord, but it was merely to ensure Morgan was well. The lie made her throat swell shut.
Over the past two weeks, she’d tried hard to convince herself that she could live without Morgan. She’d thought it would be easy to crush the love she had for him. She had not only been mistaken. She’d been miserable too. Miserable without the sound of his voice or the sight of his face to brighten her day. And the longer she went without seeing him, the more she realized how much pleasure she found in his company.
A sigh parted her lips. Morgan had allowed her to win one battle after another, but he’d won the war between them from the moment of that first kiss in his rooms at the Clarendon. The carriage rolled to a halt, and she leaned forward to look out the window. He’d warned her that she would have to come to him on her own. Now, she was doing just that.
The thought made her wince as she studied the lovely stone façade of the residence she saw
through the carriage window. Larger than the usual town home, the dwelling was impressive and yet inviting at the same time. The house Morgan had purchase was much larger than she’d envisioned.
She exited the vehicle and quickly climbed the steps to ring the bell. A moment later, the door opened without a squeak to reveal Mrs. Welkin’s pleasant countenance. Morgan had obviously convinced the hotel housekeeper to come manage his home. If he were ill, Mrs. Welkins knew exactly how to take care of him, and Julia had worried needlessly.
“Mrs. Westgard, how lovely to see you,” The housekeeper opened the door wide. “Won’t you come inside?”
Now that she was here, the uncertainty inside her grew. Morgan had no need of her if he was unwell. He would be well cared for by Mrs. Welkins. Then there was the scandalous nature of her visit. Although Julia wasn’t a debutante in danger of sullying her reputation, it was still scandalous for her to be calling on a man. Particularly a man of Morgan’s notoriety. It was the kind of behavior Oscar would have condemned with a malicious snub. The thought made Julia step impulsively into the large, empty foyer. As the housekeeper closed the front door, Mrs. Welkins gestured toward a closed door.
“Mr. St. Claire is in the study. I think he’ll be pleased to see you. I know he thinks quite highly of you.” Julia stiffened in surprise as she turned her head toward the older woman who smiled. “He’s not said anything, but I recognize the signs of a man in love.”
Heat filled Julia’s cheeks at the woman’s observation. Feeling more than a little uncomfortable, she hesitated. She ought to leave right now. Her brain immediately rejected the thought. Impossible. She didn’t want to go another day, not even another hour, without seeing him. With a nod at the housekeeper, she moved through the door into the study. Candles, and a small fire in the hearth, lit the room, while heavy maroon curtains covered the windows and blocked out the sunshine.
“Come in and shut the door, whoever you are.”
The deep harsh tone of Morgan’s voice scraped across her senses as she quickly carried out his command. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light as the door clicked closed behind her. It took her a few seconds to find Morgan. He was sitting in a large library chair a small distance from where she stood.
Long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, he was the epitome of dangerous male beauty. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, and the white of his shirt was a sharp contrast to the deep wine leather of the chair. She took a step forward then stopped as Morgan’s eyes slowly opened. The air crackled between them as she saw him jerk in surprise before he narrowed his gaze at her.
“What are you doing here, Julia?” His voice was flat and devoid of emotion.
Swallowing her nervousness, she searched his darkened features. There was just enough firelight to reveal his profile, but his eyes were unreadable in the shadows. A tremor shot through her.
“I came…I came because I thought you were ill.”
“As you can see, I’m quite well.” The words were staccato beats in the thick air of tension filling the room.
“If you’re well, why do you have the drapes pulled and all the candles lit? Why aren’t you at the shipping office?
“Mrs. Welkins knows being in the dark helps me recover more quickly from a migraine.”
“So you have been unwell,” she exclaimed as she took another step toward him.
“I’m quite recovered.”
“I’m pleased to hear it,” she said with an enormous sense of relief. Silence filled the room, and she struggled not to fidget.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” There was a rough edge to his voice as he watched her from his seat. He didn’t move, but she could see the strained tautness of his body. “I’d just about given up hope.”
“I simply came to see if you were ill.”
She grew still as he uncurled his large frame out of his chair and moved toward her. Unable to move, she shuddered the moment he closed the distance between them. He bent his head until his mouth brushed lightly against her ear.
“Liar.”
The heat from his body was an inferno across her skin. Tilting her head back, she looked up into his eyes. They blazed with a hunger that pulled her muscles tight with anticipation. Julia swallowed hard as she tried to speak, but her throat was dry. She ached for him to touch her, but he didn’t move. He was clearly waiting for her to reach out to him. Something pulsed between them, and she trembled at the desire building in her like a violin’s crescendo.
“Tell me why you’re really here, Julia,” he rasped.
The words formed in her head, but it was too difficult to speak them, and she shook her head as her courage failed her. She bit down on her lip. Worry might have been the catalyst bringing her here, but she would have come even if she’d known he was hale and hearty. She was certain he knew why she was here. She’d come to him, just as he’d demanded.
“I’ve already told you. I wanted to ensure that you were in good health.”
“Then now that you’ve seen I’m well, there’s no need for you to stay,” Morgan growled as he wheeled away from her and returned to his chair.
Startled by his reaction, she frowned. The man was impossible. Hadn’t she done as he asked? She’d come to him, but she wasn’t going to beg for his touch. Frustrated, she clenched her hands and one balled fist burrowed its way through a thick layer of silk to press into her leg.
“Blast you St. Claire. I came as you asked—no—demanded. I came here not just because I was concerned about you, but because I wanted to. What more do you want from me?”
Silence filled the room, and she tried to read his expression as she glared at him. Why was she standing here, allowing him to control her like this? The question made her suck in a deep breath. No. He wasn’t the one in control. She was. She could easily leave. All she had to do was walk away from him. But she didn’t want to.
“I want you to undress for me.” His soft words pierced her turbulent thoughts.
“Wha…What?”
“Remove your clothes. Slowly.” This time it was a command and she stiffened with fear at the idea of baring herself while he sat there watching her.
“You’re mad,” she snapped.
“Mrs. Welkins won’t interrupt us.”
“But…I…”
“Afraid?”
Despite the arrogant smile on his lips, there was a hint of fear in the way he leaned forward slightly in his chair. As if realizing how much his posture revealed, Morgan reclined back into the massive armchair and arched an eyebrow at her. Muscles tight and taut under his piercing gaze, she narrowed her eyes at him.
He’d regained control of his emotions, and yet she had no doubt that he wanted her. Although he appeared relaxed, desire flickered briefly in his eyes. It had been maddening to have him so close just a moment ago and know that she’d not been able to tempt him into losing control. And now—now he wanted her to undress for him while he watched.
Just once, she’d like to turn the tables on the man. Tease him. Tempt him. Drive him to distraction until he— her thoughts crashed one into another. Morgan had always been the one pleasuring her. What if she pleasured him? The idea sent her heart slamming into her chest.
Could she be that daring? Was this what Morgan had been trying to show her all along? That she had the ability to direct the path their lovemaking took if she only had the courage to try. Fear cascaded through her. Whirling around, she hurried toward the door.
§ § §
The moment she turned away and raced for the door, Morgan was on his feet. He was out of his mind if he let her go. Christ Jesus, she’d come to him as he’d asked. All he had to do was take her into his arms, and she’d be his. But he wanted more. He wanted her heart to lead her to him. The instant she wrapped her hand around the doorknob he took a step forward then froze as she hesitated.
For a long moment, she stared at the door handle until she slowly turned the key in the lock. The tension holding him rigid fled his bo
dy as Julia faced him. The hesitant look on her face required every bit of restraint he possessed not to stride across the room and pull her into his arms.
He knew it hadn’t been easy for her to come to him. Even if she’d done so under the pretense of her concern for him, he didn’t care. She was here. A wave of uncertainty rolled over him, and to harness the emotion, he sank down into his chair and waited. The look of confidence sweeping over her face made him stiffen. It was as if she’d recognized his indecision and had taken strength from it.
Julia walked forward until she was only a few feet away from him. For a brief moment, he saw her courage falter before a sultry confidence darkened her eyes. His cock stirred in his trousers at the sight of her. God, she was beautiful.
With slow, deliberate precision, her hand glided up from her waist to cup her breast then circle the silk over her nipple with her forefinger. His mouth had been dry for several minutes, but now he was parched. Mesmerized, he could only watch in mute fascination as she reached behind her to undo her dress. The movement sent her breasts jutting outward, and made him hard as iron.
There was an uninhibited air about her that amazed him—excited him. He didn’t know what had changed her mind, but he didn’t care. The woman from the portrait met his gaze boldly and without shame. Had he finally won? Had he truly succeeded in making her realize that being with him was her choice?
Candlelight shimmered across Julia’s face, giving her a luminescent quality. Enthralled, he sucked in a sharp breath as their gazes locked and she slipped her dress off one softly rounded shoulder. It made him crave the heat he knew resided between her thighs. Watching her like this made him hot. Hotter than he’d been the night she’d first come to his bed.
