Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“ W e are out of time.”

Morgan said the words simply and numbly. Helena felt the weight of their brevity sinking deep into her heart like a stone, tearing it in two. She swallowed, rubbing the stinging tears from her eyes and nodded. She could not look at him.

When he had met her at the gate, he did not guide her by the hand as he normally would. Once they were in the library and he had taken her cloak, he stood several paces away. She hated the space between them, but as the strange silence descended around him, she found herself unable to move.

“We are.” She agreed, her tone as numb as his.

Her body trembled, but this time it was due to sadness, not arousal. Sorrow poured so rapidly from the tear in her heart that she could not staunch its intensity. This was going to be their final night together and it all seemed so wrong. She wanted her crimson letter. She wanted his protective, dominant stance taking up her personal space. She wanted him.

She commanded herself to stop, growing frustrated with the onslaught of feeling. Their arrangement was always meant to be temporary. Morgan was there to help her experience the desires on her list, and that was all, except now that she had cracked open that door, she wanted more. She wanted to throw it open and walk into its swirling shadows, and she wanted to do it by Morgan’s side. She wanted to wear his collar again, to feel that exchange of power and trust as he clipped on the leash and led her, protected her.

In a small corner of her mind where her memories with Morgan existed, she laughed softly at her recollection of their very first interaction.

“Something amuses you?” Morgan asked.

There was no numbness in the way he spoke this time. His voice was heavy and drawn out, as though it pained him to speak. She lifted her eyes to gaze into his green orbs and nearly clutched her chest when she saw the raw emotion in them.

“No,” she answered quickly. “I do not know why I did that.”

“Come now,” Morgan scoffed, his lips drawing into a soft smile as he slipped his hands into his pockets and took a step towards her. “If there is a joke to be laughed at in this moment, I very much want to hear it.”

Helena smiled tentatively and braved a step towards him as well.

“I was thinking of the first evening I met you as Hades,” she confessed, feeling her smile widen. “And how, like him, you have guided me through the underworld of my desires. It just… seems very fitting, is all.”

Sadness streaked across Morgan’s eyes but his smile drew wider, and he closed the space between them to stroke her cheek. Helena nearly sobbed at his touch as the familiar heat and tingle rose in her.

“I suppose it was, Persephone,” he murmured, stroking his fingers along her jaw, as if he could not help himself.

Helena’s eyes stung as she looked at him. Golden streaks of lust streamed through his forest green eyes, and she felt a strange combination of loss and bittersweet joy. She wanted, no, needed him to kiss her.

Please, Morgan…

“Thank you for coming so early,” Morgan rasped, his fingers ceasing their caress. Helena could not help but sway towards his fleeting touch as he slowly drew away and slipped his hand back into his pocket. Her heart skipped a beat as a cold breeze crept over her heated skin. She swallowed hard and nodded silently, unable to trust her voice.

“Since it is our last night, we shall have to squeeze two of your adventures into one,” he went on, walking towards a box on the table. “As well as another sitting.”

Excitement filled Helena upon hearing his promising words.

“Sitting?” she asked.

“For your portrait,” Morgan replied, his eyes heating up once more. “We had agreed that this would be an exchange of favors, remember?”

She recalled their heated exchange, and her body tingled at the memory.

“We do not have to finish my list,” she said as Morgan brought the box to her. In truth, she could no longer remember its details. Her cravings had rapidly focused on Morgan and the pleasures he could offer her. “What if we just…”

“No,” Morgan said softly, not letting her finish as he pushed the box into her hands, “We made a deal, and we are going to keep it. Now here. Put this on. We must get underway.”

Helena had looked at him with confusion once she had unwrapped the plain, peasant-style dress. One of the less exciting desires on her list was to learn how to gamble. He was by no means going to take her to Ambrose’s gaming hell to learn and participate, so he had decided to take her to the Harvey Tavern.

It was a modest, safe tavern that ran responsible tables for the laymen of the land, and a place very rarely visited by nobles. At times it was reputed to draw an unsavory crowd, but tonight as they entered, dressed in their disguises, Morgan knew it would be a fun, light night. As he predicted, the men at the table they chose were taken by Helena’s beauty, even in her plain dress, and were all too happy to have the presence of her company for her first gambling lesson.

Morgan had not missed the yearning and sadness in her eyes back at his home. It had nearly swallowed him up, almost pushing him to give in to his own desires and make what little time they had left just about them. But last night, as he lay in bed and thought of all the ways he could make Helena whimper and plead for him, he realized something. It was unfair to make her burn for him when she would be forever trapped with someone who left her body cold and without feeling.

He had left other women yearning for him, begging him for more, and he had always done it with a charming smile and a weak promise of future trysts without so much as a care. But he could not do that to Helena.

By eleven, Helena had been swept up by the merriment of the gambling lesson and several cups of weakened ale, and she was smiling and giggling as he helped her back into the carriage. While he had allowed her to drink as she wished, he had kept his solitary cup of strongly brewed ale mostly untouched, wanting to be sure he could assist or protect her at any moment.

She had done fairly well with the games at first, with Morgan’s coin initially coming out about even, but by the end of the night, the rules he had tried to teach her were swept away by the ale. He had lost money in the end, but it was worth it.

In her plain dress, with that smile and giddy expression, he found her more beautiful than ever. His heart swelled in his chest as he took in the happy flush of her cheeks, and the little bounce in her body as she sat opposite him in the carriage. His happiness was quickly replaced with anguish when he realized how happy it made him to make her happy in any capacity, and his responding smile slowly slipped as they made their way to their next location. Helena’s little bursts of giggles gradually faded into nothing, and silence filled the carriage.

“Where are we going now?” she asked after a few moments.

“We are going swimming,” he replied, forcing a small smile onto his face as he turned to look at her. “I recall you mentioning the desire to swim nude beneath the stars?”

He almost immediately had to look away, unable to handle the explosive feelings that rocketed in his chest just from looking at her.

“Swimming?” Helena echoed, sounding alarmed. “We cannot go swimming now! It is nearly winter. We will freeze to death!”

Unable to help himself, Morgan chuckled as he looked out the window.

“Come now, do you truly think I would allow that to happen to you?” he asked.

A heartbeat of silence passed between them before Helena replied softly, “No. I do not believe you would allow anything bad to happen to me.”

Morgan felt his stomach tighten and his throat close as he forced his eyes to meet hers, his small attempt at humor withering as his longing consumed his thoughts. Though he knew it would only torture him further, he found himself sliding into the open seat next to hers and pulling her into his arms.

“Never,” he whispered, finally allowing himself to wrap his body around hers.

His soul sang with pleasure as Helena slid into his lap and burrowed her face into the crook of his neck. When she sighed in contentment, he felt his manhood pulse beneath her buttocks, and his grip on her tightened. He nearly lost his mind when her soft lips began tracing delicate, teasing kisses along his throat, persuading him to allow her to continue. He was only saved from his desires by the knock on the carriage ceiling, signaling that they had arrived.

“Come,” he coaxed, gently pulling her away.

“Morgan,” she breathed, her eyes filled with yearning as she clung to his neck.

Kiss me. He could see the plea in her eyes as plainly as he felt his own need for it.

“Time is of the essence,” he forced himself to say.

His body roared in protest as he opened the carriage door and put more space between them, but he ignored it and waited for Helena to follow him out of the carriage. The chilly air was a blessing to his overheated body, and he pulled in several deep breaths through his nostrils as Helena reluctantly climbed out of the carriage.

“Where are we?” she asked, looking around at the unfamiliar street.

She looked up and down the empty roadway, then turned to the lone, expansive cottage with a water wheel that sat to the right of the roadway. From the windows, as he had requested, he could see the many candles and fireplace lit inside.

“Just outside of London,” he explained, guiding her along the path to the cottage. “This is one of my properties.”

“Yours?” Helena asked, surprised. “But why would you have this place? Your estate in the countryside is far more impressive and secluded.”

“True,” he agreed, smirking as he drew close to revealing his secret, “But this particular piece of land holds a very interesting geological gift.”

He unlocked the cottage door with his key as Helena observed him with burning curiosity, but when she turned away from him to look into the house, she gasped and smiled widely.

“I…what? How is this possible?!” She laughed in surprise.

Seemingly forgetting their interrupted kiss, Helena stepped forward into the open-concept floor plan of the cottage and absorbed her surroundings. The walls and ceiling were standard, as was the large rock fireplace that stood against the far-right wall. The couches and other furniture were also standard, but what was not was the slow, steaming river that moved through the house. The floor was strategically positioned right above it so that someone could simply step into the water. It was approximately as wide as Morgan’s arm span, and deep enough to come up to his waist.

“Hot springs are not commonly found so close to London,” he explained matter-of-factly, guiding her carefully away from the edge of the stream and towards a couch. “This one was discovered only a decade ago. Erosion had forced it to break to the surface. I have always been drawn to the miracles of nature, so I moved to purchase the property. Further down the way, the spring is used to power a lumber mill I own. But here, the water is pure, warm, and perfectly safe to swim in.”

With awestruck eyes, Helena turned back to the stream and knelt down beside it. She tentatively lowered her hand into the slow-moving water and laughed.

“It is so warm!” She laughed, her face lighting up.

Morgan could not help but smile adoringly at her delight, pleased that she was so happy with it.

“I told you,” he chuckled.

Helena smiled warmly as she turned her eyes up to him. In an instant she had risen to her feet and stood beside him, her arms wrapped around his waist in gratitude. Morgan’s body sang at the contact, but he only allowed himself to place a hand on her lower back as she whispered, “thank you.”

“A deal is a deal,” he forced out, now hating the emotion that thickened his voice.

“Come, get undressed,” he urged gently, moving his hands to her cape, “We have only a few more hours before we must return home.”