She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 954

Helena stared at the hand suspended in the air. It was elegant, with long fingers and the distinct calluses of a master pianist.

She placed her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers, the heat of his palm seeping into her skin. He was burning up.

"Deal," he said.

That night, Morris drove her home. And from that day forward, their physical arrangement began.

Helena snapped out of her memory as the sound of a door opening in the hallway brought her back to the present. She sat up in bed and looked toward the doorway.

Morris stood there, looking down at her. "Not asleep yet?"

It had been three months since they made their deal. In all that time, Helena had never actually slept with him. The truth was, she desperately wanted to. She was completely intoxicated by his gentle, yet deeply unsettling, commanding aura.

"I have a question," she said, gathering her courage.

"Ask."

"Why don't we ever actually have sex?"

Silence blanketed the bedroom. Morris looked at her, his gaze slightly complex. "Was that part of the terms we negotiated?"

"No, it's just…" Helena's eyes flicked downward. He never seemed to exhibit any actual lust for her. She had never even seen him fully undressed. He always maintained that untouchable, aristocratic composure.

"Do you want a real man?" he asked.

Helena pressed her lips together. "I'm not expecting anything crazy. I just want to know why you won't sleep with me."

Morris stared at her in silence for a few long seconds. His expression didn't shift; it remained that same infuriatingly perfect, flawless calm. But Helena noticed his fingers lightly tap against the doorframe.

She counted them in her head. Three taps. Then he spoke.

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