Page 16 of Duke of Seduction

It was neither anger nor disgust that glistered in his eyes. Instead, a golden light had begun to shine through his forest green irises as he gently stroked the goblet of his wine glass and remained silent and contemplative. She had expected him to laugh at her or tease her for wanting such things, but there was no hint of humor on his face. Seeing him so pensive and serious unnerved her in a strange way, and she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat from the intensity of his stare.

“What makes you believe that you cannot feel such things once you are married?” he asked finally. “You are a beautiful woman, Helena, and I know nary a man that would refuse to fulfill your wishes if you spoke of them.”

“It is not simply about what I want him to makemefeel,” Helena countered, surprising herself at the rapidity of her response. “It is about how I want to makehimfeel. I want him to worship me for wanting to worship him. I do not believe that I can find that in a marriage.”

“You are wrong.” Morgan stated calmly.

“How would you know?” Helena shot back, offended by his immediate denial. “You are not even married.”

“Seduction does not require a marriage, nor does it require a lack thereof,” he went on, unbothered by her tone. “I may not be married but there is a reason that I am able to bed whomever I want, however I want,wheneverI want.”

Helena’s breath hitched as she stared at Morgan in wonder. Where had the jester gone with whom she had grown up? Who was this master of seduction now sitting before her?

Morgan smirked, as if reading her thoughts.

“What is the matter? Too serious for you? Shall I tell some jokes to put you at ease?”

“I do not understand,” she confessed, “how you can be positively one way in front of us, in front of the ton,but then be someone completely different when you are… ‘participating’ in other activities.”

“I am a complicated soul,” Morgan replied with a careless shrug. “I do not try to understand, I simply accept and coordinate properly.”

Helena was not sure what to say to that, but his words left her deeply intrigued. She had known Morgan almost her entire life, and suddenly realized that she did not know him at all.

But I want to.I want to know what other secrets he is hiding.

“I believe I can help you experience what you want,” he went on, going back to their original subject, “if that is still what you wish.”

“Why would it not be?” she asked, and was rewarded with another intense stare.

“You have known me all of your life, Helena, and I have played a very specific role during that time. Both the jester and Lothario exist within me, though one never overlaps the other.”

“I suppose I can understand,” she replied after a moment of contemplation, meeting his hard gaze. “It exists within me as well, I believe. If you can accept that about me, then I will accept that about you.”

As Morgan looked at her, she could see no trace of his charming smile. Instead, the look of a starving, wary wolf met her gaze, and it was watching herveryclosely.

“You must be willing to follow my rules,” he said finally, his voice strained.

“Rules?” she rasped.

“You and I will meet at night. Here, in the privacy of my home unless I decide otherwise. And you will tell no one,” he began.

At this, she braved a small smile.

“You truly do not want the others to know this side of you exists, do you?” she teased.

“That,” he agreed, smiling wickedly, “and I think you will find that the things I intend to make you experience will be very hard to describe to a person that will not make them worry or believe you have gone mad.”

Helena’s smile vanished as her mind filled with visions of what Morgan’s lessons would entail. She blinked several times to push them away and nodded solemnly.

“Very well,” she whispered in agreement. “What else?”

“Stand,” he commanded, his voice firm but husky.

Helena rose up from her chair to obey him before any thought could enter her mind, feeling slightly dazed and confused once she had gotten to her feet.

Morgan also rose from his chair and stepped before her, coming so close that her nose would have touched the center of his broad chest if she had moved half a step closer to him. She felt the his fingertips caress up the line of her throat, coaxing her to look up at him. It was barely a touch; a movement of air, and yet she felt it throughout her entire body.

“Breathe,” he rasped, trailing his fingers just below her chin.

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