Page 9 of Duke of Seduction

As if she knew she was gaining ground, Helena closed the space between them and put her hands on his shoulders. As she looked at him there was no anger or defiance in her eyes, just fundamental pleading for him to understand her.

Keeping his green eyes on her, he reached for her hands with his own and gently walked her forward until her back was pressed against the wall. She gasped softly as her backside made a smallthumpagainst the barrier, and he felt her body relax as he pressed himself fully upon her.

The scent of honeysuckle filled his nostrils and he immediately felt his mouth begin to water; dark fantasies filling his head as he pictured her in the gown from the night before.

“Is that what you want, little princess?” he whispered, his voice coming out raspy as he studied the way her breath had slowed. “Because I do not believe that is all you want. The way you sipped your wine from my hand? Fromme?”

Helena’s pink tongue darted out before she captured her bottom lip with her teeth, worrying it slightly until it was a deeper shade of pink than the top.

“I will explain more later if you promise to agree now,” she whispered hurriedly, then, in a more desperate tone, “Please, Morgan?”

The plea was too much. Of everything. Too soft. Too genuine. Too damned seductive. She had won.

“Very well,” he whispered, slowly untangling her fingers from his.

He had to force himself to take a step back, to drag in air that was not scented with honeysuckle.

“Truly?” she asked readily, following him as he turned to make his way to the door.

“Seven nights,” he said over his shoulder, his hand paused on the doorknob, “And we go about these meetingsmyway.”

“Seven?” she questioned.

He nodded and turned to look at her.

“Take it from a man of experience, little Persephone. You will need more than one night to soothe these cravings you have. I shall give you seven nights as your guide to depravity, then our deal is off, and you willneverspeak to your brother about this, no matter the outcome. Are we clear?”

Helena’s eyes were wide and shining as she nodded.

“Say it,” he commanded.

“We are clear,” she rasped.

“We follow my rules. My protocols. I shall send you word when I am ready for you. You will not respond, and youwillfollow the instructions,” he commanded, the timbre of his voice thickening as the tension between them crackled. “Say, I understand.”

“I understand,” she answered. Her tone was sweet and willing, and damn him if her obedience did not make him want to push her back against the wall and kiss her until she begged him to stop. He gave a terse nod, unable to force a goodbye, and walked out of the library before he could get himself into any more trouble.

CHAPTER FIVE

“It was such a lovely party,” Lydia gushed, her face glowing radiantly with happiness. “You all did not need to go to such trouble!”

“We wanted to,” Alice replied with a beaming smile, patting her sister’s baby bump lovingly.

“It was not fair, though, we did not have such parties for you or Barbara,” Lydia countered, placing her hand over her sister’s.

“Yes, well, we were not as anxious about having children as you and Ezra are.” Barbara replied in her usual frank nature. “Besides, we all wanted an excuse to celebrate. Christmas is still two months away, and it can get so dull in London during the winter months.”

Helena sat at the tea table centered in the sunroom of her home. The large windowpanes framed the stark coldness of the outdoors, but with the two large hearths roaring with fires it was as warm inside as any summer day.

Her eyes were focused on the nearby trees. Most of the leaves had fallen and scattered into the roadway, creating the illusion of orange, yellow and red confetti dispersing throughout the streets of Mayfair. Some stubborn leaves still clung to the tips of their branches, shriveled and colorless, and refused to let go. She felt a pang in her heart as she watched two leaves flutter in the wind, and silently hoped that they would find the strength to hang on.

“Helena, what is wrong?” Teresa whispered at her side, low enough so the others could not hear.

She said nothing as she turned away from the trees and picked up her spoon to stir her tea.

“Not a thing,” she murmured, busying herself with refreshing the teacup with more hot water.

“Are you still disappointed?” Teresa asked, her brows drawing together in sad concern.

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