Page 10 of Scandalous Desires on a Summer Morning
Years ago, he had indulged in an affair that began as heated, easy, without strings. Or so he believed. She had been clever, older, and beautiful in the way of women who knew how to hold power with a glance. But she had wanted more than he was willing to give. Love. Promise. A future. And when he refused, it had taken a turn for the worse. That entanglement had taught him the price of blurred lines.
Since then, he preferred clarity and always informed a lover where he stood before taking them to his bed. If not alover, he then had moments like these, that were transactional and nothing more. Sebastian visited for forgetfulness, not connection. And yet…
A flicker stirred in the corner of his mind.
Blue eyes. Steady gaze. A quiet defiance wrapped in worn muslin and pride.
Miss Winton.
Why in God’s name am I thinking about her?He gritted his teeth and refocused on the woman between his thighs, but the damage was done. Miss Winton had slipped past his indifference like water through cracked stone, and now she lingered.
No one had ever lingered. Not even his very first lover.
And that, perhaps, was the most unsettling part of all.
He gritted his jaw when he recalled the way she had stood, composed and proud, even as his mother’s words sliced through her like a blade. How she had clasped that worn valise in one hand and held tightly to the little girl in the other. No pleading. No tears. Only a quiet curtsy, a whispered thank-you for their generosity in launching her sisters, and then she had walked away, her back straight, her steps unhurried.
But he had seen it. The tremble in her mouth, the flicker of anguish in her eyes. It haunted him. The sharp pop of suction startled him back to the present.
Helena sat back on her heels, her red lips glossy and swollen. She tilted her head, frowning. “Well, that’s a first.”
Sebastian looked down to see his cock softening against her palm. A rueful laugh left him. “My thoughts are occupied elsewhere.”
She arched a brow. “Have I lost my touch?”
“You could make a saint sin,” he said with a lazy drawl, buttoning himself up. “The fault lies with me.”
Helena gave an exaggerated pout, though amusement glimmered in her bright brown eyes. “Is your mind on some other willing mouth tonight?”
“Not quite,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.
A familiar voice drawled from across the room. “I never thought I’d see the day Helena failed to raise a man.”
Sebastian smirked as his cousin and closest friend, David, Viscount Mauberry, sank into the opposite chair, drink in hand and eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Helena didn’t fail,” Sebastian said. “It’s my thoughts that have wandered.”
David lifted a brow. “Dare I ask what has occupied the mighty Viscount Ranford to the point that his cock is unmoved?”
Sebastian swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “A young miss.”
“You?” David said with mock surprise. “I would never have guessed. You never seem to think of anything but your bloody stallions and those old manors you insist are majestic and only need a loving, skilled touch to restore.”
Sebastian smiled. “There is something different about her, and most frustrating of all, she haunts my thoughts though our encounter was brief.”
David blinked. “Different, as in married? Forbidden? Or simply uncooperative?”
Sebastian didn’t answer.
Helena, rising with feline grace, leaned down to whisper in his ear. “If she’s the sort who makes you limp and thoughtful, I suggest you stay away, my lord. That path ends in heartbreak and matrimony.”
He chuckled. “Not every man views matrimony as a noose about his neck.”
“Oh, never say we are to lose another elusive bachelor.”
“Perhaps,” he murmured, his tone quietly enigmatic.
“How unfortunate for me.” She slipped from the room with a wink and a saucy sway of her hips.
