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Helena nodded in acceptance.

“I feel that way, too,” she confessed.

“But Ambrose,” he countered. “How is he going to accept this? I know he said he is fine with it, but is he truly?”

“I believe Ambrose has… learned a lot from this particular experience,” Helena replied. “And as I told you before, he only wants his brother back.”

“And you?” Morgan asked quickly, slipping his hand away from her neck and taking a step back. “What doyouwant, Helena?”

Helena drew in a breath as she squared her shoulders and tilted her chin up to him.

“Firstly, I want to finish sitting for my portrait,” she began. “You achieved your end of our deal — hastily and rather poorly, but you did.”

She paused as Morgan let out a laugh.

“Now I want to reach the end of mine. Even if what you draw from memory is stunning.”

“You will have to sit nude again,” he reminded her, his brow quirking.

“I imagine so,” she replied with wit. “But I will not be called a shirker.

“Very well,” he agreed, his stature growing more relaxed. “What else?”

“Tell me how you feel about me.”

Morgan’s smile dropped a little, but not into a frown. His face held a look of deep reflection as his green eyes shone into her blue ones.

“I love you,” he stated simply.

Happiness poured through her, but Helena fought the emotional tears and pushed forward.

“And I love you. So, what shall we do about that?”

A look of yearning filled Morgan’s eyes as he swept his gaze down her body, and Helena felt her blood warm. When they met hers again, she felt her knees grow weak as she saw his pure desire for her blaze from his green depths. She remained still as he closed the space between them, but could not stop her body from trembling and shivering as his hand closed around her throat.

“Tell me what you want, Helena,” he commanded, his humor gone. “Tell me, and whatever it is, I shall give it to you.”

Helena felt her heart flutter in anticipation as she reached for his hand and squeezed his hold more tightly around her throat. She smiled seductively as her aching canal spasmed with need and caused a feral grunt to erupt from Morgan’s chest.

“I want this,” she rasped, stroking her fingers teasingly along his own, “I want this… exchange of power between us. Every night. As your wife.”

“Oh, thank God,” Morgan groaned, then pulled her in by the throat to kiss her.

Helena met his lips hungrily, happy that at long last they were together again. As their lips joined and devoured, Morgan’s other arm wrapped around her waist, pressing her fully into him. She reveled in the feeling of being so close, and she greedily wrapped her arms around his muscled torso in return.

“You will be my wife,” Morgan rasped between kisses.

His hands smoothly shifted their hold on her, going to her backside, and Helena gasped as she suddenly felt her body leave the floor as Morgan lifted her. She immediately shifted her own hold, wrapping her arms around his neck as her legs locked around his waist.

“Mine,” he whispered, carrying her to the couch, “All mine.”

Helena whimpered, her heart flooding with joy as arousal pulsated through the rest of her body. Yes, she would be his. And he would behers.

“Morgan,” she whispered, their kiss breaking as he began to kiss down her neck.

“Yes, my little Persephone?” Morgan rasped, continuing his kisses as he worked at her buttons.

Helena gasped, then moaned as he freed her left nipple and licked it slowly before enveloping her breast with his mouth.