Page 52

Her memory was absolutely accurate. Helene felt a stinging tingle between her legs; it was as if her body had its own memory.

He strode over and gestured at the bed. Helene lay back, trying to quell a heartbeat of anxiety. It hadn’t hurt last time. She simply had to believe that it wouldn’t hurt this time as well.

“I suppose,” he said rather tentatively, and then seemed to make up his mind. His hand went straight down between her legs. Helene nearly jumped out of her skin.

“What are you doing?” she gasped, and then realized she sounded critical. Esme had told her that no matter what, she couldn’t sound critical or she might cause him to be unable to perform. And since the only thing she wanted from Rees was performance, she was determined to be encouraging.

He seemed to be—well, whatever he was doing, Helene had to admit that it felt—well, it felt…He took his hand away.

“You’re not ready,” he said to her. His hand lay on her thigh. It felt as if it burned into her skin.

Helene bit her lip and her heart sunk. Trust her body to have got it wrong, somehow. “What do I need to do?” she asked.

“God,” Rees said, “you really don’t have any idea what happens between a man and a woman, do you?”

“Well, of course I do,” Helene said with some indignation. She pulled herself into a sitting position and drew up her knees so that she felt less vulnerable. “I was married to you, if you remember. I mean, I am married to you. And I have perfectly accurate memories of that year we lived together. Not to mention the fact that we reenacted the process last week.”

“Nine years ago,” he said slowly, running one hand down her shoulder. It felt good. She shivered a little. “That’s a very long time to be without bedding.” So she didn’t sleep with Fairfax-Lacy last spring, he thought to himself, with a distinct throb of pleasure.

Helene smiled at him ruefully. “Yes, but as you yourself said, Rees, I’m not made for this kind of activity. I can’t pretend that I missed it.”

“I said a lot of stupid things,” Rees said. He wrapped a finger and thumb around her wrist. “You’re much more delicate than I remember.”

Helene caught herself, about to say, and you’re much bigger. But perhaps he would construe that as a derogatory remark. It might remind him of how she used to complain of being flattened by his weight.

He was running his fingers up her arm now, almost as if she were a harp. “Do you mind if I touch your breasts?” he asked suddenly, not meeting her eyes.

“But—do you want to?” she asked in astonishment.

“Very much.”

“Then of course you may,” she said, feeling as if she were granting him permission to smoke a cigarillo in her presence, or something equally mundane. A moment later that thought flew from her head. He touched her with the same passion and strength with which he touched the piano keys. Helene felt herself begin to tremble. It felt—it felt—odd. His fingers were sun-dusted, dark against the cream of her skin, curling around her breast. A thumb wandered across her nipple and she almost jumped out of her skin.

A little smile crossed his lips. “Do you like that?”

She opened her mouth but didn’t say anything. What was she supposed to say?

He did it again, and again. “Do you like it, Helene?”

“Well,” she managed, “it’s acceptable.” There was a sense of tension between them that made her unable to meet his eyes. She was naked. Naked! And he was caressing her breasts, almost as if she had the same—

The thought of Lina brought a chilly moment of sanity. “Do you think we could progress now?” she asked. She certainly didn’t want Lina to think that she was taking up Rees’s time or even, horror of horrors, deliberately detaining him in her bedchamber in order to win him back.

“Mmmm,” he said, and there was something in his voice that made her whole body thrum.

This time she relaxed her legs and let him feel there without protest.

“I don’t think this is going to work tonight,” he said, after a moment.

Helene felt a wash of disappointment. “Why not? Is there something wrong? Can’t you just go ahead?” she asked, hating the fact that she was almost pleading with him.

“Not without hurting you,” he said, shaking his head. “I believe that’s why bedding was so painful between us years ago, Helene. I didn’t know enough to wait for your body to be ready for me.”

She could feel tears pricking the back of her eyes. It was all her fault, her body’s fault. “I don’t mind if it’s painful,” she said earnestly. “Please, Rees. Please. It wasn’t painful the other night, I promise!”

“I’m sorry, Helene,” he said, standing up. “I just don’t know very much about bedding ladies.” He stared down at her. His hair had fallen over his eyes before. “You were my first, you know.”

“First lady?”