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was nothing more than another conquest in a long line of women begging for one ounce of his affection.
    Lucien’s blood thundered in his ears as his self-control waned. Horatia stood still as a statue, her breath faint as if she waited for him to act further. He shut his eyes, banishing the image of her naked beneath him until he could summon the strength to remove his hands from her and step back.
    “Thank you,” she breathed.
    “You’re welcome.” He wanted to drag her into his arms and plunder her mouth with his, but the moment had passed. He snagged the reins of his remaining control and left her alone.
    Lucien exited Horatia’s bedchamber and hurried back to his own.
    He questioned his sanity for touching her, kissing her, wanting her. He was a stout defender of the League’s ‘no seduction of sisters’ rule. How many times had he threatened Charles upon pain of death to stay away from his own sister?
    If Cedric ever found out I kissed her, and helped her undress … Lucien cringed. Men had killed over smaller slights to their sisters’ honor. Cedric? He was a God-fearing man, but put in that position it would be wise to fear Cedric more than God.
    Lucien had the door halfway closed when Charles burst inside.
    “What the hell are you doing?” Charles shut the door, grabbed Lucien by his shirt, and shoved him backward. Lucien stumbled and hit the bed behind him.
    “Care to explain why I just saw you coming out of Horatia’s room?”
    “It isn’t what you think. We weren’t—”
    “Do not lie to me. You’re worse at that than you are at whist.” Charles’s gray eyes were fathomless. “You weren’t in there long enough for anything serious, but you were in there. I want to know why.”
    “I insulted her earlier this evening. I had to apologize.”
    “And you couldn’t do that in the bloody hallway?”
    Lucien folded his arms over his chest and glared back. “I didn’t want her to slam the door in my face, so I went in after her. You know how women are. They hold grudges of biblical proportions if you don’t apologize immediately. I’ve had enough upset mistresses to know when I need to beg forgiveness for the sake of peace.”
    “So you’re treating Horatia like one of your kept women?” Charles arched a brow.
    “Believe me, Horatia is the last woman on earth I would willingly seduce.” The lie was heavy and bitter on his tongue. He’d started to seduce her mere moments ago. But he wasn’t thinking straight. The damned brandy had him tied in knots. Reminding him of when he’d tangled his fingers in her stays. God he wanted to go right back to her room and shred her clothes from her body and take her to bed.
    “There is no rule against being friends with a man’s sister. Cedric would never shoot you over that. But you’ve been cold to her these last few years. Is friendship beyond your grasp?” Charles crossed his arms over his chest.
    Lucien sighed heavily and leaned back on his bed. It was time to resurrect the old lie. Charles couldn’t be trusted with the truth, it would be the same as telling Cedric.
    “Do you remember, years ago, when I was courting Miss Melanie Burns?”
    “Of course…” Charles voice trailed off.
    Melanie Burns, one of the wealthiest, prettiest heiresses had nearly married Lucien. Instead, after Horatia’s interference, she had refused his proposal and a month later was engaged to none other than Hugo Waverly. Rather than be truly angry with Horatia, he’d been thankful. She’d saved him from marriage to a woman who ended up his enemy’s wife. For the next four years he’d been cordial, but maintained some distance. Then there had been her coming out when she turned eighteen. He’d never forget the first night she went to Almack’s. Her hair had been artfully styled, her dress more elegant than her usual day gowns. She’d been utterly captivating that night and the only thing he could do was run. Put distance between them before he did something