Simply Shameless (20 page)

"So he thinks I'm too old, does he?"

To his astonishment, Helene simply stared at him, her fingers knitted together in front of her, her lips pressed into a tight line. He took a seat in front of her desk and continued to study her. Seeing her vulnerable made him feel uncomfortable in ways he refused to examine. What had the young sprig said to upset her so much? Was he a past lover? The thought made anger churn in his stomach.

"He is young." Helene moistened her lips.

Philip shrugged, disturbed by his instant annoyance at her defense of the young man. "He is an arrogant fool. All men are at that age. Who is he, and who is the girl?"

Silence stretched between them until he was about to open his mouth to repeat his undeniably rude question.

"They are my children."

He took his time to digest that bare statement. From the brief glimpse he'd had of the two young people, he'd seen they were blond, French, and prone to arguing, very much like Helene, in fact.

"I thought you said you couldn't have children."

She finally met his gaze. "I said I could no longer have children. After the twins were born, I was unable to conceive again."

"Ah, that would explain it, then."

She lapsed into silence again, and for once he let her. He swung his pocket watch idly between his fingers as he considered his options. Did he really want details of her love life after she'd left him? He found that he didn't. The thought of her body being possessed by another man was too difficult to deal with. He shoved that thought away even faster.

Why should he care, after all? He was only here for the next twenty-three days, and he'd had enough emotional entanglements with his late wife to last him a lifetime.

"Judd and I have decided to try a new wine supplier."

She blinked at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said, Judd and I have decided to try a new wine supplier. I think you've stayed with the La Tour brothers for reasons of loyalty, not economics."

"I've known them for years. I was one of their first clients."

"They are one of the premier wine merchants in London now. I scarcely think they need you anymore, and, according to Judd, the quality of their products has been diminishing over the last year."

"Perhaps they are having a difficult time getting the best wines because of the war."

Philip was relieved to see some color creep back into He-lene's face as her interest in the conversation grew.

"Where is their loyalty to you, one of their best customers ? I don't see it. They don't deserve your account."

She raised her chin. "I make the final decisions about our suppliers, not you."

"Not anymore. You will soon have a partner to consider, remember?"

She stiffened. Ah, there was the fire, the determination to best him. His smile was deliberately patronizing.

"I've already told the La Tours that we wish to take our business elsewhere. We'll see how they react to that and make a decision."

"You had no right to do that." Helene stood up. "You should've consulted me first."

"I am consulting you." Philip got up, too, and moved in on her. He slid his arm around her waist and drew her close. "I'm just waiting for you to agree with me."

He kissed her and drove his tongue deep, needing to possess her, to remind her of their already deep sexual bond.

She wrenched her mouth away from his. "Don't think you can use sex to get what you want from me."

He smiled. "Isn't that what you do? Don't you tolerate me in your bed because I have something you want?"

She stared into his eyes. "I do a lot more than tolerate you."

He kissed her again, caught her lower lip between his teeth and bit slowly down. "Are you sure about that?"

"I don't fake my pleasure. Do you?"

"I can scarcely do that. The evidence of my lust fills you up and makes you so wet that sliding into you the next time is much easier."

He took her hand and placed it over his erection. "My desire for you can sometimes be inconvenient as well."

She tried to step out of his arms. "Definitely inconvenient. I have to go and meet with the La Tours and reassure them that I have no intention of taking my business away."

He kept her close, kissed the long line of her throat until she trembled in his arms. The scent of her arousal mingled with her perfume, and his cock grew harder. "Wait until tomorrow. See what their response is first. If you go running back to them now, you will look weak and indecisive."

"And you will look foolish for intervening without being asked."

He shrugged. "I hardly care about that. Judd agreed with my decision—go and speak to him." He kissed her again. "At least do that."

This time when she tried to escape him, he let her go and bowed. "Will you accompany me to the theater tonight?"

She paused, hand pressed to her breast, her eyes still wary. "Why?"

"Because I would like to take you?"

"Are you sure you wish to be seen with such a notorious whore?"

The bite behind her words could hardly escape him. Did her son disapprove of her and her lifestyle? Did that hurt? He imagined how he might feel if his son hated him.

"I believe my reputation can stand it. How about yours? Surely I am such an elderly man that you have nothing to fear from me."

Her smile was slow in coming but breathtaking when it appeared. She sank into a low curtsey.

"Then I would be delighted, my lord."

Chapter Sixteen

After meeting with the twins again and trying to soothe their ruffled feelings, Helene was quite glad to be leaving the pleasure house for a few hours. She rarely went out anymore, so intent was she on her work. Having Philip around had helped her realize she deserved a real assistant to share some of her burdens. Judd was an excellent deputy, but he lacked her intuition about people.

She studied her pale lemon gown in the mirror. It was one of her favorites. A daffodil silk underdress covered by a fine net slip adorned with tiny seed pearls. She clasped a matching set of pearls around her neck and a bracelet to complete the set.

How long was it since she had gone to the theater? More years than she wanted to count.

She'd given up attending after several of her escorts had resented other men coming to pay their respects to her. That was the trouble with young men; they were so insufferably jealous. After one such occasion that had almost ended in a sword fight at dawn, Helene had decided to stay home.

Philip met her in the grand entranceway of the pleasure house dressed in his usual austere colors—dark brown and white this time—although a diamond glinted in his cravat. He bowed low and helped her into her cloak.

"You look beautiful, madame."

"Thank you, my lord."

She allowed him to lead her out into the crisp frostbitten air to where his carriage awaited them. He settled her on the seat and sat opposite her, his emotions hidden beneath a slight frown. When they had sex, she loved to see that frown disappear, to watch the sensualist who struggled to break free of his past emerge and take over. His stamina was remarkable, the depths of his lovemaking as yet unchartered. He caught her staring at him and his frown deepened.

"What is it?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Am I not allowed to look at you?"

He grimaced. "Why would you want to? I am hardly remarkable."

His lack of confidence continued to surprise her. In her selfishness, his wife had done him a lot of harm.

"I think you are remarkable."

"Because I put up with you?"

She smiled. "It is true that most men fail to live up to my exacting standards."

"That wasn't what I meant. You are one of the most infuriating women I have ever met."

He eyed her consideringly. "Every time I think I understand you, you surprise me."

"Isn't that the way it should be?"

"No, and I'm not sure I like it."

"Because you can't simply categorize me as a whore and consign me to the devil?"

"That would certainly make things easier." He shifted in his seat. "I believe my main problem is that the moment I see you, half my blood is diverted straight to my groin. I've never liked being led around by my cock."

"It is scarcely my fault if that happens. You should strive for greater self-control."

The carriage drew to a halt, and Helene gathered her skirts to descend. Philip got out and came around to help her down. She took his hand, gasped when he yanked hard and pulled her tight into his body. His erection grazed her stomach.

"And what if I have no self-control left?" •

She smiled sweetly and shoved at his chest. "Then perhaps I will have to be careful."

The theater was already crowded as they made their way up the main staircase to the upper levels. Helene tried to ignore both the admiring looks from the men and the deliberate cuts from some of their womenfolk. It wasn't as if this was new to her; beauty brought its own peculiar advantages and disadvantages. She wasn't quite sure why so many of the ladies disliked her. She never slept with married men, and she taught the younger ones how to better pleasure women. In her opinion, the ton should be grateful to her, not disapproving.

But then, as her pleasure house was a discreetly kept secret, perhaps the women simply believed she was a high-class courtesan. She certainly looked like one. She refused to let it bother her, so she smiled and waved at her acquaintances as Philip settled her in his box.

"Do you know everyone here?"

"Not everyone." His abrupt question made her glance up at him. "I haven't been to the theater for several years, and I never attend social events. I'm not considered suitable."

"And yet the ton is happy for you to provide them with the sexual services they require."

She shrugged. "Are you feeling sorry for me? Please don't. I have no ambition to dance at Almack's."

He took the seat beside her and began to study the playbill.

"Despite you being a pariah, I expect we'll be inundated with callers at the interval."

She gave him her best smile. "If you don't want to be seen with me, I'll understand. Feel free to leave."

He scowled at her. "I escorted you to the damned place. I'm not going anywhere." He shoved the program at her. "It's Mozart. Do you like him?"

"Of course I do." She studied the closely written sheet. "Cost Fan Tutte is one of my favorites." She smiled sweetly. "And so appropriate for a woman with no morals like myself. Did you choose this particular opera to make a point?"

Philip snorted. "Unfortunately, I don't have the power to tell the theater what to perform on any given night." He snatched the playbill back. "I don't even know what you're talking about."

"The opera is about two sisters and their lovers. The lovers agree to a wager to adopt disguises and court the other's fiance to show that all women are basically unfaithful."

"Why bother to wager about something that is already proven?"

"You believe all women are incapable of fidelity? And what about men?"

He shrugged. "It is different for a man. He is expected to sow his wild oats."

Helene fixed him with a quelling stare. "You, sir, have appalling double standards. If men can 'sow their oats,' then why can't women?"

"Because a man has a right to know there are no cuckoos in his marital nest."

Helene looked out over the stalls and pit of the theater. The discussion obviously disturbed Philip on some fundamental level, and she had no wish to spoil the evening before it even started. What on earth had his wife done to him? She suspected she hadn't heard the half of it. It was becoming harder and harder to pretend she didn't care about the underlying causes of his problems and want to help him solve them.

To disguise her uneasiness, she focused on the seething masses below her. The stink of unwashed flesh, cheap perfume, pipe smoke, and alcohol created a heady brew. Glass bottles caught the candlelight and threw it back to bounce off the diamonds and precious gems of the more wealthy patrons seated above.

The orchestra struck a loud chord, and some of the lights were snuffed out by the attending footmen. The roar of conversation dimmed slightly as people turned their attention to the stage. Helene sat back and prepared to enjoy herself. Music was one of her true pleasures, although she had never learned to play an instrument properly.

Much later, she was so engrossed in the music that Philip's hand on her thigh made her jump. He'd edged his gilded chair so close to hers that there was no longer any space between them. His fingers slid up her arm and came to rest at the nape of her neck.

He leaned close until his mouth almost grazed her ear. "Do you remember that inconvenient lack of self-control we discussed?"

She nodded as he stroked his finger along the line of her jaw.

"It has returned with a vengeance and needs to be satisfied right now."

"Ssh."

She tried to show she was too interested in the music to want to have anything to do with him. His mouth traveled down her neck and settled over the pulse at the base of her throat. The delicate lick of his tongue brought all her senses alive.

"I'm thinking about when you climax under me, Helene. How your body clenches around my cock and sucks out every drop of my seed."

She shivered as the tip of his tongue traced a lazy path back to her ear. The music swelled around her, making each small sensation more intense, more exquisite, and more deeply personal.

"I'm also thinking about having you just before the interval so that when all your friends arrive, they'll see me fucking you, watch you coming apart for me, know you are mine alone."

"I am not your possession."

"Aren't you?"

She struggled to push aside the sensual haze enveloping her. "I don't belong to any man, and I never will."

He bit down on her earlobe, and she was instantly wet, her nipples aching to be touched, her sex flowering for him.

"What about the father of your children? Didn't you belong to him?"

God, she'd wanted to, but she'd had to let him go. . . hadn't she? Helene closed her eyes and wrenched away from him, her breathing uneven. She'd forgotten how tenacious he could be and how well he read her emotions. Was she ready to tell him the truth about the twins? It might serve her purpose and drive him away for good, but was it worth the inevitable consequences for her already hostile children? She yearned to find some peace with them, some middle ground where they could at least be pleasant to each other.