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“You should speak with him again,” Morgan insisted.

“And what, pray tell, do you think he would say?” She asked.

Morgan opened his mouth to speak, but then he raised his brows, sighed, and closed his mouth.

“Fair point,” he agreed.

“My fate is sealed,” Helena replied, her tone full of dismay.

Morgan briefly offered her a rare look of pure compassion before he restored his mouth into its usual smirk.

“Not yet,” he whispered in her ear just enough to make her tremble. “And until it is, you and I will simply continue checking off items on your list of debauchery.”

Helena cast a seductive smile his way as everyone began to return to their seats.

“You are still amenable?” she asked.

Golden sparks illuminated within Morgan’s vivid green eyes.

“Veryamenable,” he agreed, then bowed his head towards her and the approaching Teresa.

“Have a pleasant evening, ladies,” he said in farewell before returning to Ambrose. “May our poetess take an exciting turn in her works.”

Helena and Teresa both laughed lightly at his sarcasm and settled back into their seats.

“He is so handsome, is he not?” Teresa whispered to her as she handed Helena her drink.

“I suppose so,” Helena smirked as Mimi returned to her reading chair.

“And so funny, too. You share similar wit, you know. If only he was a part of the marriage mart,” Teresa sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. “You two would work well together, I think.”

“Except that my brother would kill him,” Helena laughed softly.

Teresa giggled with her as they turned their attention back to Mimi’s performance.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Morgan,enough,” Duncan snarled, stepping in front of him.

Panting, sweating and seeing red, Morgan let out a defiant growl as he tried to step past Duncan. The fight had not been that bad. He had caused greater injuries in the past and had received much worse in return.

“I can go another match,” Morgan insisted. “You hear that crowd out there? They are clamoring for me to go back out.

He should have known better than to agree to Duncan coming with him that evening. Since the first night he had discovered Morgan’s underground fighting habits, Duncan had tagged along a dozen or so times to see the fights.

Save for tonight, his friend had always been quiet and had never become personally involved, no matter how bloody the match became. Tonight, however, was different for both of them.

Morgan had poured himself into his fighting, letting it become a conduit to release his mounting pressure. He had been savage with his fists, but so had his opponents, and he had earned every bruise that now covered his body. The only difference was that he had won, whereas the rest of the fighters were receiving wound care in the back room. He had gone through three fighters that evening, and Morgan felt as if he could go through a hundred more.

“I do not know what has gotten into you tonight, brother, but this is not the way to handle it,” Duncan whispered, his tone tense. “If you continue along this path you are either going to kill someone or get killed yourself.”

Morgan knew Duncan was right, but he had no choice. After his lessons with Helena he had tried being with other women, but it had never been satisfying. They could never give him what he needed to drive away the yearning in his bones. Fighting allowed his mind to focus on something other than his growing need to spend time with Helena.

Morgan recalled how sensitive her body had been to everything he had done to her. Naked and vulnerable, she had swallowed her fear, trusted him, and allowed herself to be at the mercy of his teachings.

Morgan’s mind flashed to the way she had gasped as he poked the tip of the hair pin into her nipple; how she had undulated while he rolled the sharp, five-pointed star down her hip; when he had applied it to her sex and caused her to orgasm. He had been certain his thundering heart would stop.

His mind then raced to the sight of her crawling to him; her sky-blue eyes wide with yearning and a touch of shame. Not enough to make her stop, but enough to appease the monster in him that roared when a woman exhibited a modicum of shame for her willingness.