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unapproachable. Enid did her best to keep the conversation going, but her son made no remark unless prompted. He ate his food and drank his coffee and then retired to the study to smoke without asking anyone's permission.
    "Something's happened," Enid muttered, watching as the door closed behind him. "He's always like that when he's upset. He never rages, as Brant does. He simply goes quiet and closes up."
    Amelia helped her clear away, wondering what could have upset him.
    "No, no, I'll wash these few. Rosa's already gone for the night. Dear, do take King a second cup of coffee before I drain the pot, will you? No cream or sugar. He likes it black."
    "But…" Amelia hesitated, panicked.
    "He doesn't bite," the older woman assured her with a smile. "Go on. It's all right."
    Amelia hated herself for being persuaded. It was bound to lead to disaster, but it was hard to say no to Enid.
    She carried the full cup in its saucer to the door of his study and knocked, grimacing as the coffee threatened to overflow the cup.
    "Come in!"
    His voice didn't sound at all inviting, but Amelia gently opened the door and entered the room. Her heartbeat was unnaturally heavy as she approached the desk with her eyes on the cup instead of King.
    He was lounging in the burgundy-colored leather chair behind the desk, his big, booted feet resting on the thick pad that covered the surface of the big oak desk. Smoke from his cigar wafted to the ceiling.
    She felt his eyes as she put the cup down on the desk. Her gaze glanced off the brandy snifter in his hand and, higher, the speculative look in his glittery silver eyes.
    "Your mother asked me to bring your coffee," she said quickly, turning to beat a hasty retreat.
    "Close the door and sit down, Miss Howard," he said curtly, stopping her in her tracks.
    She turned, hesitating uneasily. "It's rather late…"
    "It's barely six."
    Still she didn't move. The thought of being closeted with her worst enemy was disconcerting. She didn't want him to see how vulnerable she was to him.
    "I said," he added very quietly, holding her eyes, "close the door."
    She tried one last time. "It's improper," she said.
    "In this house, in the absence of my father, I decide what is and is not improper. Do as I say."
    His look was calculating. Amelia almost rebelled. But she was tired and worn. She gave in and gently closed the door.
    Something flashed in King's eyes before he averted them to the ashtray in which he flicked ashes from his long cigar. He'd hoped to prod her temper, to see if she had reserves of that spunk he'd seen only once, when she was with Marie's children. But he couldn't make it happen. Perhaps she really was the weakling she appeared to be when her father was close by.
    Amelia sat down in the chair facing the desk, on its very edge, with her hands clutched together in her lap.
    "I went into town today. I met an acquaintance of your father who asked if Alan's engagement to you had been announced."
    She was shocked. "What?"
    "It seems that your father has in mind inciting my brother to marry you," he said without preamble. "And that he has advertised this intention to certain of his acquaintances in banking."
    Her lips opened to protest, but she saw the uselessness of it. "Whatever my father's intentions, Alan is only my friend," she said. How could her father have been so indiscreet?!
    King's eyes flashed dangerously. "Be his friend, by all means, if it pleases you. But marriage is out of the question," he added deliberately. "I strongly advise you to repulse any attempt my brother may make to form an alliance with you."
    She worked at composing her face. "May I ask why?"
    "My brother needs a strong woman," he said simply. "You have hidden talents, I admit. But you are hardly my idea of the modern woman. Your father tells you how and when to breathe, Miss Howard," he added coldly, leaning forward to spear her with his gaze. "A woman who is so easily led by a parent will be quite unable to cope