Page 62 of Love and Lies

“Yes,” I managed finally. “We are.”

28 Jessiah

I was still awake, of course, when I heard a knock at my door around one in the morning. How was I supposed to sleep after what had almost happened with Helena in that alcove—and that brief yet memorable conversation between her and her brother? I did my best afterward to put on a brave face, but in the end I left the event at the first opportunity, wondering how I could get the front desk to give me Helena’s room number. But that impulse vanished just as quickly as it came. I couldn’t risk anyone finding out that I’d asked about her, not while my mother and the Westons were staying at the same hotel.

So I’d gone back to my room and had been trying to get some work done—the quarterly accounts for Dad’s restaurants had come in and needed checking—but I could hardly concentrate, my mind drifting again and again to Helena. God, I was already hard again just thinking about what had almost happened. What was it about this woman that threw me so completely off track?

I wasn’t expecting anyone when the knock came, so it was with little enthusiasm that I put my laptop aside, got up, and went to open the door. But when I peered through the peephole to see that standing outside my door was the one person I hadn’t dared hope for, I quickly turned the handle and opened it.

I could tell from her cautious greeting, and what she said next, that she was holding back, and I could see in her eyes that she hadn’t come to pick up where we left off—although she was wearing a silk robe that was practically crying out for me to take it off. I knew well enough by now what she looked like when she was on a mission, and right now it was one I wasn’t going to like. So I told her I’d overhead her conversation, doing my best to ignore the pang in my solar plexus when she said she’d had to see me. I didn’t reply. I couldn’t have done it with words.

“You heard?” she asked. “How much?”

“Most of it,” I replied. “Especially the last bit, when he told you to stay away from me. It sounded like you were on the same page about that. Are you?”

She hesitated, then raised her chin.

“Yes. We are.” But as soon as she’d said it, she scoffed and shook her head. “God—no, of course we’re not. But I don’t have a choice, Jess. I have to stay away from you, whether I want to or not.”

It sounded like she’d long accepted the fact, and my gut twisted in a painful knot. It caught me off guard; I hadn’t realized how hard it would hit when she rejected me once and for all. Jesus, I had no idea where all this was headed, if I was on the brink—despite not wanting to get into a relationship in New York—of falling in love. All I knew was that I was always thinking about her, that she was burrowing deeper and deeper into my heart, that I couldn’t just ignore how I felt around her. That the darkness in me retreated when I looked in her eyes. And that I felt hope. Hope that there was something worth fighting for.

“Tell me what’s going on with your family,” I asked her softly, but stayed where I was, keeping my distance. Better to not even be tempted to get too close.

Helena hesitated for a moment before she replied. “My family, we… ah, damn it.” She shook her head and started again. “It seems my family’s reputation has suffered a lot since Valerie’s death, and all eyes are on us right now. Our circles are very conservative, as you know. Any scandal would be a disaster for my parents.”

“That’s what we would be, then?” I gave a dry laugh. “A scandal?”

She looked up. “We’d be the biggest scandal possible, apparently.”

“And? Is that what you think too?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” she replied.

I looked at her in earnest. “It does to me.”

“If—” she swallowed. “If they find out what’s going on, they’ll send me back to England. So whether or not I agree with their rules is irrelevant. If I have to go back, it’s over. Everything will be over.” Before I could say anything else, she gathered herself together. “I should go.”

She didn’t make any move, though. Not at first. Then she came toward me, brought a hand softly to my cheek, let her fingers drift gently down my neck. Her touch set me on fire, but I held completely still.

“We can’t do this.” Her voice was small and helpless.

“I know.” She was right—not just because of her family, but mine too. It was better for both of us to end this now before it had properly begun. Before we meant so much to each other that breaking up would be too painful. Because we’d both experienced enough pain.

But I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to end it, just as much as she didn’t—her hand was still on my neck. That force pulling us together was fierce, and I could tell Helena was fighting it with all her strength. She took her hand away, tore her eyes from mine, and reached for the door handle.

“It’s the right thing,” she said, but she looked up at me again like she was begging me to disagree.

“Yes,” I replied. And because I couldn’t stop myself, I reached out a hand, my fingers skimming very softly over hers.

“Jess…” My name was little more than a whispered plea on her lips.

“You really should go now, Fair Helen,” I murmured. “You know I’m not very good at following rules. And the longer you stand there, the more I want to break them.”

Her eyes were full of contradiction. I could practically see her carefully constructed walls crumbling, desperate rationality giving way to yearning hunger. It had never turned me on so much before, to be looked at the way Helena was looking at me now. To see just how much she wanted me. But I didn’t make the first move. Holding my breath, I waited to see if she would.

Helena took a shaky breath, that battle in her blue eyes reaching its apex. And then she lost it, and said the words I’d been dying to hear.

“Break them.”