She stiffened when he stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. His touch was light and undemanding. The tenderness hammered at her resistance. His dark gaze searched her face and she forgot how to breathe.
“I want to know what I have done to upset you.”
“Y-you’ve done nothing. I told you I was looking for the retiring room.”
“Helena.” He leaned toward her to place his lips against her temple. She closed her eyes, her chest aching at the intimacy of his kiss. “When a lady is upset, she often hides in the retiring room. Please, tell me what I have done.”
His voice was soothing, and his mouth so warm and soft when it touched her forehead. She struggled not to melt into his kiss, but her surrender was dangerously near.
“It is not you. It…it is everything.”
The women at the brothels. Lady Lovelace. Every widow who had ever captured his attention.
He sighed and shifted to create space between them. “You are discouraged about Lavinia, but I will find her. I have given my word, and I will not stop searching until I have news for you. If she isn’t at one of the high-end brothels, I will expand the search.”
No. She pressed her palms against her head as if she could stop the rush of images flooding her thoughts. There must be another way to find Lavinia, because Helena couldn’t tolerate another night of torment. Her imagination proved too relentless and cruel. Her throat tightened as if trying to hold her words inside, but they burst through anyway. “I realize I have no say in which lovers you choose, but please, don’t let it be her.”
He drew back. “Her?”
“Lady Lovelace. Or—or those women at the brothels. Or anyone.” Good Lord, this is mortifying. But she couldn’t stop talking or keep herself from throwing up her hands and gesturing like a madwoman. “It kills me knowing you frequent such places, even if you are going there on my behalf. I cannot sleep, and I pace the floors until my legs are too weak to move another step. I hate it. I am sorry, but I do. And I realize how ridiculous this sounds, but you should know the truth about—”
“Enough.” The word echoed in the courtyard.
Her breathing ceased as she awaited the harsh reprimand she was due, but his soft chuckle carried on the night air. “Thank you, Helena.”
She blinked, trying to make sense of his response. “Thank you?”
“I have wanted to hear those words for days.” His smile was a flash of white in the dark. “Perhaps not those exact words, but anything that confirms you desire me as much as I do you.”
Was that all they had? Lust? Even though she knew there was nothing more between them—that there could never be more—his admission stung. He thought of her no differently than any of the others who had come before her. She lowered her head, trying to sort through the mess of emotions inside her.
“Look at me, Helena.”
As much as she wanted to defy him, she couldn’t. She was just another feebleminded lady powerless to deny Sebastian Thorne anything.
He pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. Helena closed her eyes and leaned her head against the hard wall. He teased the other corner of her mouth then kissed the tip of her nose. She was in trouble. Deep trouble. As she anticipated the next touch of his lips, her pulse became a rapid pounding in her ears.
He pulled back, still cradling her face. Her eyes flickered open.
“Since you have been honest with me, I will be with you as well. I have no interest in those women in the brothel. I haven’t bedded a single one. I meet with the madam and pay her to answer my questions.”
She frowned even though his answer relieved some of the tension that had built inside her. He paid for information? Why had he never mentioned this to her? When their time together ended, she didn’t want to owe him anything. “How much?”
“Christ.” He turned his gaze toward the sky as if appealing for help. “I am pouring out my heart, and she wants an accounting of my funds.”
“I do not!” Heat crept into her face as she realized how ludicrous her response must have sounded. She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “We will sort it out later. Please continue.”