Part 13 (1/2)

She caught her breath; one brief glance confirmed she was watching, fascinated more than horrified. He let his fingers trace over the silk, felt her flesh firm in response. Then he cupped her breast lightly.

The quiver that raced through her made him ache. Deliberately slow, he circled her nipple with his thumb and watched it peak and pebble.

”You want me,mignonne .”

”No.” A sound of desperation. She didn't want to want him; Helena was sure about that. On all else-what was happening between them, what he intended, what he wanted of her-she was confounded, utterly and completely at sea.

His fingers touched her, traced, and she couldn't think. She pulled back, pushed away. He let her go, but she sensed the brief clash between his desire and his will. Even if will won, she had to wonder if it would the next time.

Dangereux.

”No.” She sounded more definite the second time. ”This will do us no good.”

”On the contrary,mignonne, it will be very good indeed.”

Pretending ignorance would be futile, disingenuousness worse. Lifting her chin, she fixed him with a stubborn look and went to take another step back-only to feel his fingers tighten about her waist.

”No. You cannot run from me. We need to talk, you and I, but before we go further, there's something I want of you.”

Searching his eyes, blue on blue, Helena was certain she didn't need to hear what it was. ”You have read my intentions wrongly, Your Grace.”

”Sebastian.”

”Very well-Sebastian. You misunderstand. If you think-”

”No,mignonne . It is you who fail to realize-”

The curtain over the archway rattled. They both looked. Sebastian's hand fell from her waist as Were, smiling genially, looked in.

”There you are, m'dear. It's time for our dance.”

They could hear music wafting from behind him. One glance at his open expression was enough to tell them both that he suspected nothing scandalous. Helena stepped around Sebastian and swept forward. ”Indeed, my lord. My apologies for keeping you.” She paused as she reached Were's side and looked back at Sebastian. ”Your Grace.” She curtsied deeply, then rose, placed her fingers on Were's hand, and let him lead her out.

Were grinned at Sebastian over her head. Despite all, Sebastian smiled and nodded back. He and Helena had not been apart, alone, for long enough to give the gossips sufficient cause to speculate, and Were had, intentionally or otherwise, covered the lapse.

The curtain fell closed; Sebastian stared at its folds.

And frowned.

She was resisting-more than he'd antic.i.p.ated. He wasn't sure he understood why. But he was certain he didn't approve. And he definitely did not appreciate her quick-wittedness in avoiding him.

Society had grown used to seeing them together-they were now growing used to seeing them apart. That was not part ofhis plan.

From the shadows of his carriage drawn up by the verge in the park, Sebastian watched his future d.u.c.h.ess animatedly holding court. She'd grown more confident, even more a.s.sured; she controlled the gentlemen around her, with a laugh, with a grimace, with one look from those wonderful eyes.

He couldn't help but smile, watching her listen to some anecdote, watching her manipulate the strings that made her would-be cavaliers extend themselves to entertain her. It was a skill he recognized and appreciated.

But he'd seen enough.

Raising his cane, he rapped on the door. A footman appeared and opened it, then let down the steps. Sebastian descended to the ground. The carriage he'd used was not his town carriage; this one was plain black and bore no crest on its panels. His coachman and footman were also in black, not his livery.