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The intensity of it, similar and yet so different from the pleasure he brought her with his clever tongue and nimble fingers alone, robbed Helena of breath and brought tears to her eyes as she lay afterward on his chest, both of t hem spent and gasping.
One flesh. One heart, hammering in unison as they lay wrapped in each other's arms.
But though she'd long sought to ignore it, she was forced now to acknowledge the pale light forming a ghostly halo behind the tightly drawn curtains, its in-356 THE UNTAMED HEIRESS
creasing illumination beginning to rival the glow of the guttering candles. When Adam stirred, she sat up, every fiber of her being revolting against the thought of losing him.
She couldn't sail away and leave him. Having experienced this ecstasy, she simply couldn't imagine life without him. Her heart, her soul, couldn't bear the loss.
"Adam, I did please you, didn't I?"
He opened his eyes and smiled at her. "Did we not please each other?" he corrected, kissing her hand.
"Marvelously," she acknowledged, returning his smile. 'Then..
.though of course I do not wish to keep you from your..
.obligations, would it not be possible for us to.. .to salvage some time to be together? I could take a house outside London.
Somewhere close enough for you to visit."
His smile fading, he looked at her searchingly. "Are you proposing what I think you are?" he said at last. "Helena, I don't want you to be my mistress! I want..." Almost at the point of uttering something more, he shook his head. "Let us not speak of it now."
Her chest felt as if a giant talon had ripped it open. She swallowed hard and blinked back the burn of tears. "No, of course not. Excuse me for mentioning anything."
Of course he didn't want her. Hadn't she caused enough havoc in his life? Why would he wish to take a scarred, ill-behaved, troublesome woman who tumbled from one scandal to the next as his mistress when, should he ever wish to indulge in a discreet affair,
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with his breeding and charm he might have any woman in the ton?
The day was definitely dawning now, the rosy light at the windows brightening with every passing moment. Belowstairs, the servants were probably already stirring.
Feeling a chill that went to the bone and had little to do with the temperature of the room, Helena slid from the bed and fished her satin wrapper off the floor. "I expect you should go now, before the maid comes to make up the fire. I shouldn't wish to distress Aunt Lilhan by creating yet another scandal on my last night in her house." She picked up Adam's dressing gown and the long-abandoned shirt and held them out to him.
For a long moment he stared at the garments, as if reluctant to take them from her hands. Hating, as much as she did, that their night together was ending?
Finally, swallowing hard, he said, "I expect you are right."
Dropping the shirt on the bed, he stood and pulled the dressing gown around him. For a few more minutes Helena drank in the beauty of his naked body—the broad shoulders, flat belly, strong legs and now-flaccid shaft lying against his thighs. The body she had kissed and caressed, licked and fondled, pleasured in every way she could devise over the long hours of the night as he had caressed and pleasured hers—even, she recalled, her breath
catching, the scars at her back.
As he turned to the door, she clamped her lips shut, stifling the aching need to confess her love in these last few minutes they would ever have alone.
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Adam would probably soon feel guilty enough over the night she had coerced from him without adding to it the burden of her love. Better that he think her a wanton who'd decided she couldn't leave his life without sampling the passion that had sizzled betwe en them since that first night in the library. Just one more irresponsible, ill-bred act by a girl who had already committed so many.
Numbly she moved to the center of the room, eyes closed, waiting for the soft click of the closing door that would signal the beginning of the impossibly empty days that stretched ahead of her without him.
She sensed him walking past her—then turning back. Framing her face in his hands, he kissed her, so gently she had to bite her lip afterward to keep from weeping.
"You will stay at Lady Seagrave's?" he asked.
She nodded. She couldn't tell him everything she felt, but she could at least say this. "Thank you, Adam—"
He put a finger against her lips and smiled tenderly. "No, I
thank you... my dear Helena," he whispered, his eyes roaming her face as if to memorize every curve and line before he pulled her once more into his arms.
She had vowed to let him leave freely, but despite those noble intentions, she clung to him, her hands biting into his shoulders and her body molding to his as if to sear an imprint of him into her skin.
At length, he set her away from him. "Nothing is settled yet, so don't do anything rash," he said, one finger caressing her cheek. Then he turned and walked out.
Helena stumbled back and slumped onto the bed, 359
burying her face in the pillow he'd lain upon, which still carried the faint scent of his shaving soap. She had wrested from him her one night of passion. She now realized she would likely pay bitterly for it for years to come.
Barely an hour later, a grim, tight-lipped Helena arrived at Lady Seagrave's town house. After brooding on her love -ravaged disarray of a bed for a time after Adam left her, she'd sprung up with a fierce resolve to be gone from the house before any of the family woke. She didn't think she could face Charis or Aunt Lillian without them immediately suspecting what had occurred.
And as for Adam—she couldn't face him at all. She had thought she'd loved him before, but until last night she'd had no concept of the intensity of connection, the sweet purity of emotion one human being could feel for another.
And having felt it, she knew she didn't have enough veneer of polite behavior to keep herself from approaching Adam again to
beg that he reconsider taking her as his mistress. Too little maidenly restraint not to want to scratch out the eyes of Miss Priscilla Standish for daring to marry Adam. Adam— her Adam, whose body had branded hers, who belonged with her!
Thank heavens for Lady Seagrave 's invitation. Only the width of an ocean between them could guarantee that she would keep her distance from Adam, let him lead the life his honor required.
When she tiptoed quietly into the entry, to her surprise, the butler directed her to Lady Seagrave's book 360 THE UNTAMED HEIRESS
room, saying the mistress had been up for several hours and was eager to meet with her. Trying to summon a pleasant expression, she knocked at the door and entered.
"Good morning, Helena," Lady Seagrave said. "Let me finish these instructions and..." Her words trailed off and her welcoming smile dimmed as she examined Helena's face. "Oh, my poor dear.
Saying goodbye was difficult?"
"Yes," Helena replied shortly.
"Then I hope my news will cheer you. When I visited Gavin's office yesterday, I found one of his most experienced captains there. He was to rejoin his ship in Falmouth once the rest of his cargo arrived, but when I told him who would be traveling with me, he proposed we sail immediately. He has been with Gavin long enough to know that bringing him his beloved daughter a week sooner would be worth far more to Gavin than a thousand bottles of Spanish wine. We can set out today—if you are ready?"
Even the prospect of meeting her father could not lift her spirits. Still, she knew she ought to leave London without delay.
"I am quite ready."
"Excellent! I'll have Stephen put your trunks in the coach."
She came over to pat Helena's cheek, concern in her wise eyes.
"Do not grieve, my sweet. Everything will turn out all right in the end."
Helena managed a smile. But though she was about to embark on the sort of adventure she'd always dreamed about, she couldn't see how anything would ever be right again.
CHAPTER 25
'Twas well after noon when Adam finally woke. He crossed his arms behind his head, his body satiated and his spirits bursting with excitement and optimism.
He couldn't recall when he'd last stayed abed so late. But Helena had been so inventive, so marvelously eager, that he'd not wished to waste in sleep more than the time necessary to recover his vigor before loving her again.
He still couldn't quite believe she'd had the boldness to seduce him. But she was Helena, that unique creature who marched to no rules but her own. And in truth, he hadn't tried too hard to resist her. Not when she rose to greet him, her curves lushly outlined by that silk night rail, reminding him of their first night in the library.
The embodiment of the fantasy he'd dreamed so often, her untutored, instinctive sensuality had touched him far more deeply than any practiced courtesan ever could.
Who was he, for the sake of a few lines scribbled in a parish
register, to deny her what her passionate spirit yearned for?
Especially not when he'd already decided that regardless of the stain on his honor or the
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embarrassment to Priscilla, he simply couldn't let Helena go.
The decision to terminate his engagement had been taking shape for a long time. But after witnessing Priscilla's behavior at the musicale two nights ago, he had known that, even if he'd not fallen in love with Helena, he could not marry a lady who seemed ready to do anything—even forfeit his respect by betraying his trust—to discredit the girl she saw as her rival.
