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“I could say the same to you,” Gina replied, grinning. “I would never even think of being unfaithful to Cam. But that doesn’t mean that I have to look like a corpse in the presence of a man as delicious as Mayne.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Mayne himself said, strolling into the room. “I have a peculiar dislike of corpses in a lady’s sitting room.” He bowed elegantly. “Well, this is a true pleasure. Three of the most ravishing women in all London in one room!”

Helene couldn’t help thinking that the earl had shown no sign of considering her ravishing a month ago. But it was hard not to appreciate his compliment. When he looked at her with those deep-set eyes, marked by straight black brows, Helene felt a thrill straight down her spine. He himself was, quite simply, ravishing.

“If you’ll forgive me, ladies, I will play Prince Paris. Surely you three are Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite.” He grinned down at them, and even Gina, who was starting to think that she’d left Max for rather longer than she wished to, felt a spark of pleasure. But then Mayne turned to Helene and gave her his madcap, suggestive grin. “As Paris, I award the golden apple to Aphrodite. Because she has been hiding her radiance for so long that it’s burst forth with particular brilliance.”

Helene raised an eyebrow, but Esme nipped in before her. “A tediously overwrought compliment,” she said reprovingly. “Surely you can do better than that! Besides, I was labeled the Aphrodite when I debuted, and I would take it very amiss to find that I’ve been demoted to Hera.”

“Every Aphrodite has her day,” he said, twinkling at Esme. “If you ladies would allow me a private visit with Lady Godwin, I assure that I could wax far more eloquent.”

“Well, I expect we shall have to give you free rein for your eloquence, Mayne,” Esme said, rising.

He bowed and kissed the very tips of her fingers. “It’s a pleasure to see you so radiant, Lady Bonnington.”

Esme laughed.

“Good-bye, Helene,” Gina said, pulling Esme toward the door. “No, don’t worry, Mayne. You can kiss my hand next time.” Giving him a conspiratorial smile, she closed the door behind them.

Mayne turned around and looked down at Lady Godwin. She was faintly pink, and seemed to be examining her skirts with great curiosity. He sat down next to her on the couch, stretching out his legs before him. “I am enchanted to see you so unscathed by last evening’s debacle,” he said.

Helene could feel herself blushing so hard that her ears were going red. If only she didn’t blush so much! “My husband and I are—are friends, Lord Mayne. Truly, there is little disagreement between us.”

“That sounds remarkably refreshing,” Mayne said, picking up one of her hands and running his thumb delicately down each finger. His grin really was irresistible. Helene smiled at him a little shyly. She wasn’t used to the heady pleasures of flirtation.

“Won’t you call me Garret?” he said softly. “You did so last night.”

Helene just knew that she looked unattractively pink in the face. “I apologize for leaving the ball after I informed you that we would meet directly.”

He turned her hand over and began brushing kisses onto the rounded part of each finger. “The occasion lost all interest after you left.” He spread her hand against his. “How slender your fingers are, compared to mine. Musician’s hands.”

“Yes,” Helene said rather uncertainly. Her heart was thumping quickly.

Suddenly his fingers curled in between hers. “May I kiss you?”

Helene hesitated. He took that for a yes, and she caught one last glimpse of his dark eyes before his head bent and he brushed a kiss on her lips. And another. Another. His kisses were very sweet. Delicate. Helene relaxed. He had very large hands: without question he would be able to span one-and-a-half octaves.

“Do you play?” she said, against his mouth.

“All the time,” he answered. He went back to his brushing kisses, without seeming to be in any hurry.

Helene found that she was quite enjoying it. Then she realized that perhaps he hadn’t understood her question. “I mean, do you play music?” she asked.

“That too.” He moved closer and put a finger under her chin to tip it up. “May I play with you?”

Helene could feel her heart pounding so hard it was likely visible through the thin fabric of her gown. That was the important question, wasn’t it. And yet—she couldn’t do anything of that sort. “It isn’t the right time,” she managed.

He bent his head again and his lips drifted across hers. She wouldn’t mind if he tried to kiss her a bit more …intently. But he didn’t. Instead his mouth drifted off to the corner of her lips. “Curiosity is my besetting sin,” he said silky. “Also a ruthless wish to have things absolutely clear between playfellows. Is it not the right time because you are, alas, attached to that shaggy husband of yours, or is the issue a rather more ephemeral one?”

Helene opened her mouth to answer but he took advantage of it and slid inside. She found her arms around his neck without conscious volition. I don’t like this kind of kissing, she thought to herself, rather wonderingly. But she liked Mayne’s kiss. He was so debonair and restrained.

Finally Mayne himself drew back, and Helene was startled to see that he was looking at her with distinct hunger. No man had ever looked at her with that expression, although she’d often seen them looking at Esme that way.

“I want you, Helene Godwin,” he said, and there was a dark throb in his voice that made Helene’s legs feel weak.

“I couldn’t—I’ve never—” she stumbled, and then pulled herself together. “I’ve never done such a thing before.”

His hands were holding her face lightly. “You are so exquisite,” he whispered. “Was I blind before last night?” His fingers ran over her cheekbones. “I must have been blind not to see your beauty.”