Page 14 of Duke of Seduction

“Lead us to The Dungeon then, madam,” he commanded. “We have no time or pleasure to waste.”

Two of the women beside him smiled as the third woman and the matron paled. “The Dungeon” was a bedding quarter whose walls were lined with certain tools; a creative variety of chains, cuffs and other diabolic bits that were meant to cause equal measures of pain and pleasure. If he wanted to help Helena with what she had asked, he had to experiment with everything beforehand.

He pushed away the thought and focused on the task before him as he led the four women to their ecstasy.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Helena knocked twice on the back gate of Morgan’s garden as he had instructed. Getting away from her home at such a late hour had been more stressful than she had initially thought. She had no idea that her brother worked so late and would still be awake when she was ready to leave. She felt foolish for presuming that he would already be asleep with Barbara by his side.

Her original plan to exit through the library’s patio doors next to Ambrose’s office had been thwarted, for she feared he would spot her through his window. Instead, she had chosen to leave through the back door of the kitchens, which were situated below the estate.

To her relief, she saw that only one servant was still present; a young girl, perhaps a scullery maid, who was dozing on a stool, her head resting comically on one of the large pots she had likely finished drying before she fell asleep.

The garden gate swung open, making her jump, and Helena felt a spark of excitement as Morgan’s frame filled the empty space.

“Ah, there is my little sister,” Morgan teased, a grin spreading across his face.

Helena felt her cheeks grow warm as she pushed past him into the garden.

“Do not call me that,” she hissed. “You are my brother’s friend. Do not make this taboo.”

“I believe me being one of your brother’s best friends already makes this taboo,” he retorted, closing the gate.

“Not right now,” she said icily, enunciating each word. “In this setting, you are my…guide.Nothing more. You are not my brother’s best friend, and I am not yoursister.”She sneered the word as if it was offensive; in such circumstances she gathered that it was.

The smirk on his face slowly transformed into a look of intense intrigue. A quiet, powerful energy emitted from him as his green eyes raked down her cloaked figure, making her feel exposed and vulnerable. Helena felt excitement and danger infuse her veins with energy as the joker transformed into a hungry beast.

He was lookingsoclosely at her. Helena thought briefly of asking him to stop looking at her so intensely, but then a small voice in her mind whisperedthis is what you wanted…is it not?

Once he had finished looking her over and had lifted his green eyes up to meet her blue ones, he wordlessly held a hand out to her and waited. Swallowing her nerves, Helena slipped her hand into his and allowed him to pull her into the gardens.

“You are sure about this?” he asked as he shut the gate behind them.

His deep voice, devoid of cheer or warmth, complemented the night, and she shivered as though it was as cold as the evening’s air.

“Why would I not be?” she managed to muster as they began to walk.

Although Morgan’s head remained pointed in the direction of the house, in the dim light she saw his eyes turn to her.

“You are about to see a side of me that our families do not know exists. It will forever alter how you see me.”

Helena’s brows lowered into a frown as she released his hand and took a step away.

“You think me so weak that I cannot understand what this is?” she asked defiantly. “It is a fantasy. I know that. And when we are done, you will still be the family jester, and I shall be the newly married lady I am destined to be.”

“I feel you still do not comprehend just how much you are asking of me,” he stated. “I would not have blamed you if you had not come.”

Drawing in a breath for courage, Helena stepped in front of Morgan and placed a hand on his chest to stop him.

“I know what I want, Morgan,” she stated. “And I want passion. Even if it is just a fleeting taste. I…” she paused, gathering the courage for her next statement, “Ideserveit. My body deserves it. To know, if only once, what it feels like to be consumed.”

Morgan studied her for a moment before a devilish smirk bloomed on his lips. He let out a low, dark chuckle, as if impressed by her boldness, and placed his hand over hers. The heat from his touch was a shock to her numb fingers but she did not pull away. He then pulled her hand to his lips and she felt her entire body tingle as he breathed warm air into her palm before placing a sensual kiss in its middle.

“Very well, little Persephone,” he teased, slipping momentarily into the Morgan she had known all of her life. He then tugged at her hand, leading her once more. “Now come along, we do not want dinner to get cold.”

Helena’s brows drew up in surprise. Dinner? What did a meal have to do with her request? Morgan ignored her quizzical expression as he led her into his estate through the library. Inside, she felt her taut muscles relax as the heat from the fire chased away the chill of the night air.

She immediately noticed that the usual lamps were unlit, and the only light in the room came from the flames that jumped in the large, dark wood hearth. In front of the fireplace was a small, cloth-covered table with two covered dishes, two wine glasses and a dark green bottle. Two chairs sat opposite one another, but the table was so small that anyone sitting there would brush their knees against the opposite person.

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