Page 15

From behind her, Morgan reached around to the front of her cloak and unfastened it. He pulled it slowly from her shoulders, revealing the simple, long-sleeved white dress she had chosen, and she felt a bead of sweat form on her forehead as his hand slowly traced down the curve of her spine. She shivered with pleasure and surprise, unaware that such a small touch could make her feel so much.

“An interesting choice of color for such a task,” he mused.

“Not pink enough?” She managed to tease.

Morgan came around her, his brow cocked in amusement.

“Notblackenough,” he corrected, and Helena smiled as she thought of the gown she had worn the night they had discovered each other’s secret.

“Sit,” he commanded, then pulled out a chair for her with one hand as he led her with the other.

As she obeyed him she felt her nerves beginning to unravel, her trembling now evident. Morgan took immediate notice and lifted the bottle of wine to pour her a glass. With one hand he captured the back of her neck, guiding her to tilt her head back, and with the other he held her glass, pressing it softly to her lips.

Their eyes met as the wine trickled onto her tongue, and she obediently sipped until he pulled the glass away. When he finished, she felt her nerves beginning to calm and released a soft sigh.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes,” she breathed, her own hand fluttering to her throat as he took the seat opposite hers. “Thank you.”

He gave her a solemn nod, then removed the covers from the dishes. She could not help offering a small smile when she saw her favorite foods set out before her.

On her plate was a small pot of heavy, sweet cream drizzled with caramel and adorned with a small, silver spoon. Beside it lay a piece of aromatic, tender beef and a small portion of roasted beets. The beef and beets had already been cut into small bites, ready to be enjoyed using the silver fork that lay beside it. Upon closer inspection, Helena noted that Morgan’s plate was different from hers, and that a glinting knife rested beside his fork.

Although she was not hungry, Helena felt her stomach grumble greedily at the sight of the small meal, and she picked up her fork to begin. A peaceful silence settled over the table as they both began to eat, and for the briefest of moments, Helena forgot why she was there. This moment, this meal, felt intimate. Natural. Even though they had never once shared a meal alone.

“Tell me of your desires,” Morgan said, breaking the silence.

Helena paused, forcefully swallowing her last bite of food as she was reminded of her purpose.

“I told you,” she whispered, setting her fork down to reach for her wine. “I want a kiss.”

Morgan shook his head as he continued to eat.

“Well, yes, there are other things I also want,” she ventured, her mind going to the tamest of items. “I want to learn how to gamble. Not in a lady’s salon or party, but in an actual pub of some sorts. I want to drink and play cards and gamble coin.”

Morgan remained silent, his one brow raising as if amused.

“And I want to swim,” she pushed on, feeling emboldened. “Naked.”

“In front of others?” he asked.

“That is not a necessity,” she clarified, “but there are other moments during which I would prefer to have an audience.”

Helena’s cheeks were suffused with heat as she thought about what she had seen at theDevil’s Masquerade.She was not sure if she had gone there to watch other people or to be watched, but she wanted to find out.

“You promised me you would explain, Helena,” Morgan sighed, leaning forward with an almost bored look. “A kiss, yes, that is obvious, gambling and nude swimming, sure. I agree that those pursuits are all a bit taboo and exciting, but there is more. I know there is. You would not have pushed me so vehemently if that was all you wanted. Tell meexactlywhat you want.”

For a moment, Helena grew angry and self-conscious at being called out so boldly.

Damn him and his ability to see through me!

Helena drew heavily upon her courage. She had come this far and would not back out now. Not when Ambrose could inform her of her new husband at any time. Yes, there was more.

“I want to feel fire in my veins as I submit to someone who is worthy of submission,” she whispered softly, letting the words fly free.” I want to be so sensitive to someone’s presence that I shiver in excitement before he even touches me; to be so wrapped up in him that I want to obey his every word. I want to lose my breath and my ability to speak as I watch him walk towards me.

I want to desire their commands and their dominance. I want toneedthem to lay their hands, their mouth, and all manner of things upon me. I want to fantasize about them all day because I know what will happen to me at night, and it is a sensation we both long for so readily that when the time comes to be together, we nearly burn one another with our passion.”

Helena was surprised at the evenness of her own tone and the clarity with which she spoke of her desires. It had all tumbled from her so easily, so readily, that she did not even have time to consider how it made her sound. She lifted her eyes from her plate to find Morgan studying her with an expression she could not read.