Intimate Betrayal by Adrienne Basso Read Free Book Online

again, and without thinking he claimed her lips in a sensuous kiss. He kissed her long and searchingly, succumbing to the emotion and passion she inspired. Morgan felt Alyssa’s astonishment and her tentative response just as he realized what he was doing. Feeling confused, he ended the kiss as abruptly as he had begun it, and stepped away from her, dismayed by his lack of control.
    Alyssa stared at him with startled eyes, breathlessly trying to concentrate. She swayed slightly, wondering giddily whether if she landed in his arms, he would kiss her again. His kiss was the most remarkable thing she had ever experienced: strong, yet gentle; hard, yet tender. She was sorry he stopped.
    Morgan scowled at Alyssa’s dreamlike expression. He swallowed against the sudden, intense emotions that filled his throat and moved further away, deciding it was time to beat a hasty retreat.
    “Good-bye, Miss Carrington.”
    “Your Grace,” she answered, confused by the harshness of his voice. She watched him unwaveringly as he exited the room, obviously in a hurry to be gone. Shaking her head sharply, she tried, without success, to force the entire incident from her mind as she returned to the unfinished correspondence on her writing desk.
    The duke climbed into the waiting curricle, but paused to give Perkins some parting instructions.
    “Tell Miss Carrington she may contact me at Ramsgate Castle near Portsmouth. I will be there until Thursday of this week. After that, she can reach me at my London residence.” He handed the butler a paper with the information.
    “Keep a close eye on her, Perkins,” Morgan requested, astonishing both himself and the butler. Then at a light tap to their reins, the fiesty bays took off at a brisk pace down the drive.
     
    Morgan was distracted during the drive to Ramsgate Castle. His mind continually wandered to Alyssa, and he was unable to explain why she so strongly affected him. The kiss they had exchanged had been passionate and wildly delightful, despite her obvious inexperience. He had enjoyed it immeasurably and so, apparently, had Alyssa.
    Yet his fascination went far beyond the physical. He admired her spirit and intelligence, her ability to adapt gracefully, even triumphantly, to circumstances that would have defeated many men and overwhelmed most women. She repeatedly demonstrated her inner strength and courage, winning his respect during the short duration of his visit.
    And still there was something else that drew Morgan to Alyssa, something he couldn’t define. And he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.
    He had also been inexplicably drawn to his wife Valerie many years ago. Not in quite the same manner, of course, but he had felt a spark of excitement when in her company. Unfortunately, the spark had sputtered and died soon after their marriage, leaving Morgan feeling trapped, permanently tied to a woman he neither loved nor liked, who constantly reminded him what an ordeal it was to be his wife.
    Valerie had wept passionately while telling him how he offended her tender sensibilities with his physical demands on her person. She was horrified by his touch and accused him of using her solely for the purpose of sowing his seed to breed an heir. Upon reflection, Morgan had been ashamed to realize she spoke the truth, and as a concession stayed out of his wife’s bed.
    Consequently Valerie died without producing an heir, but Morgan was no longer concerned about the succession of his title. His younger brother, Tristan, had recently returned from the fighting on the peninsula, wounded yet mercifully whole. Morgan promptly named his brother the heir to the dukedom, effectively passing on his responsibility and sparing himself the distasteful notion of entering into another marriage. It was now up to Tristan to continue the Ashton line and produce the next generation that would inherit the vast family holdings.
    Morgan’s gloomy memories faded as he spied Ramsgate Castle in the