Simply Shameless (13 page)

He patted her hand, his so fragile now she could see the delicate curve of his bones within. "It is always a pleasure to help you, my dear."

Helene hesitated as he smiled into her eyes. "You would have no objection if I attempted to change his mind myself, would you?"

His eyebrows rose, and for a moment she saw a flash of his wicked younger self in his gaze.

"As long as you don't kill the man, I have no objections at all."

She bent and kissed his hollowed, papery cheek. "It will hardly come to that. But I can't sit by and allow him to destroy everything I've made for myself."

"Good for you, Helene." George applauded. "I don't think he'll know what hit him."

Helene smiled properly for the first time that day. "All I hope is that soon he'll be heading back to his new home at Sudbury Court as fast as his horse can carry him."

Chapter Ten

Philip Ross carefully knotted his cravat and pinned it in place with a single pearl pin.

Jones, his valet, handed him a dull brown waistcoat and his favorite black coat.

"There, my lord. You look very nice."

Philip managed to smile his thanks. He looked like what he was—a man headed toward forty who'd allowed others to suck all the joy out of his life. He knew Helene had been shocked by his dour appearance. When had he stopped smiling and enjoying his life?

When had he last laughed out loud?

His wife hadn't encouraged laughter. In her increasingly delicate health, she'd even found the laughter of their children too much to bear. After all, they had ruined her life, hadn't they? He'd hated that, hated that she'd forced them to creep around the house like scared mice for fear of upsetting her. His mouth twisted. Such a gentle tyrant, ruling the house from her sickbed, but a tyrant nonetheless.

Yet, tonight a quiver of anticipation thrilled through his veins. Helene had asked him to meet her at the pleasure house, and he was more than willing to accommodate her. In truth, he hadn't stopped thinking about the room she'd taken him into. The ecstatic groans of the man being pleasured had etched themselves into his brain, making him wake up hard, wet, and wanting, something that hadn't happened to him in years.

He slipped his card case and a bag of coins into his coat pocket. Somewhere, deep within his soul, he realized Helene might offer him his last opportunity to live again. The question was, what would she propose to him, and how high was the price?

Helene checked the public salon, pleased to see that everything appeared to be functioning perfectly. Her staff was not only well paid, but well trained. Despite the nature of the entertainments offered, they rarely had any problems with the guests. The opportunity to indulge their wildest sexual fantasies, coupled with the fear of being struck off the members list, meant that most people behaved.

Beneath her calm exterior, Helene realized she was nervous. In a fit of gallantry, George had offered to take the twins for a week's vacation to his house in Brighton. Helene had been glad to accept on the twins' behalf and, despite their protests, had packed them off bright and early that morning. She had a week of relative peace to deal with Philip Ross, unless there was news of Marguerite, of course.

"Madame."

She turned to find Philip behind her. The severe cut and style of his dark clothing brought a somber note to the lush scarlet and gold salon. He smelled of sandalwood and brandy, his face clean-shaven, his expression as grim as ever. Despite his lack of enthusiasm, or maybe because of it, Helene realized she looked forward to the challenge of mastering him. How long was it since a man had resisted her, and how long since she'd really been interested in bending a man to her will?

She smiled slowly and allowed her experienced gaze to travel down his long lean body.

Unlike many men his age, he hadn't succumbed to the pox or the overconsumption of food or alchol. She remembered the feel of his body pressed against hers, the sense of great strength and hard muscles. If she did have to resort to fucking him to get her way, it certainly wouldn't be a hardship. "Are you calculating how long I'll last in your bed?"

Helene blinked and brought her eyes back up to Philip's. How did you guess?" "From the lascivious look on your face."

She raised her eyebrows. "You don't like to be admired?" He shrugged, the gesture almost awkward. "There is little to admire. I'm simply a country squire."

Helene squeezed his upper arm as if testing his strength. "A country squire who probably helps bring in the harvest, hunts his own game, and rides to hounds." "I do those things."

"And that is why you are worth admiring. I don't believe there is an inch of fat on your body"

He stepped out of reach, his mouth a hard straight line, "What do you want, Helene?"

She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Just to talk to you." "Here?" His wide gesture took in the rapidly filling salon. "My office, if you prefer it."

He bowed and she placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her toward the relative peace and quiet at the back of the house. In the dense silence, the rustling of her cream silk flounced dress and single petticoat sounded loud. She had no idea how he would react to her proposal but found she was invigorated by the thought of making it. He was no spoiled young aristocrat willing to do anything she asked. It was almost refreshing to have a challenge.

Helene took the seat behind the desk and waited for Philip to sit down.

"I have a proposal for you."

His smile was bored. "I'm not selling you the shares."

Her answering smile was full of sweetness. "I was thinking more in terms of a wager."

"A wager?" He sat slightly forward, his hands linked together, elbows resting on his knees. "Between us?"

"That is correct." She raised her eyebrows. "Is it beneath your newfound dignity to bet?"

"That depends on the wager and the terms."

She saw the spark of interest in his hazel eyes that he couldn't quite conceal. Her hopes rose. Beneath that hardened, glacial exterior, surely some spark of the swaggering adventurer remained?

"I want you to spend the next thirty days working alongside me at the pleasure house. If you leave before that time period ends, the shares are mine."

"And if I accomplish this fearsome task, do you expect me to give you the shares anyway? I doubt you're offering to give me yours." He laughed. "It seems the terms are all to your advantage."

"No, my lord. If you complete your thirty days here, I will not take you to court to regain possession of the shares, and I will allow you to remain as a silent partner under my very particular conditions."

His expression darkened. "You do not have the resources to take me to court. Who would listen to you anyway?"

Helene held up a list of names. "Almost all the judges in London, half the House of Lords, and quite a few of our current Members of Parliament are fully paid-up members here. I'm sure they wouldn't look kindly upon a case that might result in the closure of one of their favorite clubs."

There was silence as Philip stared at the list and then at her. She kept her breathing slow and steady, her expression pleasant.

"What exactly would I have to do at the pleasure house?"

Helene shrugged, determined not to show any sign of triumph at his apparent capitulation in case he rescinded it. "At first you would accompany me and learn how the house operates. If you prove capable, I might even allow you to take over Occasionally."

"You make it sound as if I'd be unable to perform your so-called duties." He pretended to sigh. "Although, you might be right. I'm not sure if I could bring myself to fuck all the men."

"Perhaps you could fuck all the women instead. They would probably enjoy it." Helene put the list back into the drawer and locked it. "And I don't fuck everybody. Only those who appeal to me or need tuition in the erotic arts."

"Which is most of the English aristocracy."

She smiled at him, and he almost smiled back before converting his amusement into a frown.

"There is more to running this establishment than sex. I scarcely have time to share my bed with anyone these days. Having an assistant to share my burdens might be amusing."

"So you want me to act like some unpaid servant for the next thirty days in your brothel."

"It is not a brothel, but basically, yes."

"And in return, you'll not take me to court."

She nodded and he slowly shook his head.

"The odds still seem weighted in your favor."

"How so?"

"You get to tell me what to do for thirty days."

"I get to show you what your investment is worth and how to run it if you wish to be involved in its future. What on earth is wrong with that?"

"Everything."

He got to his feet and started to pace the woven rug, hands behind his back. Helene stiffened as he pivoted in front of her desk.

"If I agree, I want something from you."

"What, my lord?"

"Your body for those thirty nights, so I will have some compensation for all my hard work."

Helene licked her lips as she imagined herself and Philip entwined, naked on her bed.

"As I've already told you, my body is not for sale."

"I'm not offering you money for it."

"You wish to use me, though."

"As you wish to use me for thirty days."

Their gazes locked, and neither of them seemed able to look away. "And if I refuse?"

"Then I will not accept your terms, and we will be back where we started."

Thirty days of being bedded by Philip Ross ... Did he still make love with such wicked abandon? Somehow Helene doubted it. Could she inflame his lust, make him crave her as much as he had eighteen years ago? Did she even want to? She was a successful woman in her own right, mother to three children whom she still had to protect despite themselves.

"If I agree, you must promise not to hurt me."

"Why would I hurt you?" He returned to his seat and sat down, one long leg crossed over the other.

"Because despite what you say, I still sense you are angry with me."

His smile was dismissive. "You are mistaken. If I'm angry at all, it is because you have put me into this ridiculous situation."

As her temper started to rise, Helene got to her feet and moved to stand in front of him, hands on her hips.

"The situation is of your own making, my lord. If you were truly a gentleman, you would simply relinquish your interest in this place and walk away."

"Then perhaps I'm not a gentleman." He wrapped his arm around her waist and yanked her into his lap. She shivered as he kissed his way up from her shoulder to her neck. "And when I'm in your bed, I'm the only man in it."

"Are you saying I can't have any other lovers?" Helene sti-fled a gasp as his teeth settled over the pulse at the base of her throat.

"It seems only fair, doesn't it? You get my entire attention for thirty days and I get yours."

She jabbed at him with her elbow to great effect and slid off his lap. He didn't try to stop her, simply waited as she rearranged the bodice of her gown.

"Your nipples are hard."

"It is cold in here."

He raised his eyebrows. "What does that have to do with the fact that you are aroused?"

Helene retrieved her paisley shawl from the chair behind her desk and put it around her shoulders.

"Are we agreed, then? You will spend your next thirty days with me, and I will spend the next thirty nights with you."

He got slowly to his feet, his gaze fixed on her breasts. "And what happens if I don't turn up every day?"

"Then our agreement is null and void, and you give me your shares."

She waited impatiently until he nodded.

"I agree to your terms, madame. In thirty days, after we both complete our parts of the agreement, we can discuss the situation again." He smiled. "Perhaps by then you will be so enamored of my body and my business acumen that you will decide to make my involvement permanent."

"As I said, if you insist on retaining the shares, we will negotiate the terms of your minor involvement in my business." She glared at him. "Please don't imagine you will be handed control of everything I've worked for."

"Madame, rest assured, I wouldn't dare to assume anything about you."

Helene tried not to grind her teeth. If she had her way, he would be gone long before then. She dropped him a formal curtsey and held out her hand.

"Perhaps we should start right away and continue our tour of the house?"

Philip kissed her palm and placed her hand on his sleeve, his expression ominous. "What else is there? I assumed I had seen the worst of it."

Helene cast him a sideways glance as she mentally reviewed the evening's entertainment schedule. Where should she take him first? What would shock him most?

Philip tried to avoid staring at the three well-endowed naked women writhing on the large silk cushions behind the buffet tables. They were eating purple grapes and drinking red wine as they pleasured each other. It was difficult not to stare. To his right, several men had gathered to watch and comment on the performance. Watching the women didn't particularly arouse him, although such a blatant and public display of their sexuality did.

He felt like a man who had lived on a diet of bread and water for twenty years suddenly being offered all the exotic food he could eat. Part of him wanted to gorge himself; the saner part knew that such excess would probably kill him.

"My lord?"

He dragged his attention back to Helene, who had been explaining the financial implications of providing such a luxurious buffet every night. He stiffened as he registered the hint of sly amusement on her face. How dare she enjoy his discomfiture?

She had no idea how difficult his marital duties had been. He caught the echo of his own thoughts. Of course she had no idea. She couldn't know that sex had become something to be avoided, something so foreign to his nature that for years he'd struggled to even maintain an erection.

"Monsieur?"

The amusement in Helene's blue eyes had faded, replaced by concern. Philip inhaled sharply, and her scent invaded his nostrils, a subtle blend of lavender and roses.