The Passion

Chapter Nineteen

He drew from me my heart's most intimate secrets .

"How much longer till we arrive?" Harry asked for the third time, twisting in his seat to look out the coach window at the Sussex countryside.

Aurora couldn't help but smile at the boy's eagerness to be home. They had been traveling only a few hours since leaving London early that morning, but Harry could scarcely contain his impatience. "Not long."

"You will speak to Mama, will you not, Rory? You won't let her scold?"

"Yes, of course. I promised I would. But I don't think you need worry. She will be too relieved to have you safely home to do much scolding."

Just then Harry spied Nicholas, who rode beside the carriage. "I wish I could have ridden like Mr. Deverill, instead of being shut up in this carriage."

"You said your ribs were still too tender to endure such a long ride on horseback, remember?"

The boy shuddered, as if recalling his ordeal – a reaction that Aurora noted with silent gratification. After his beating on the quay, Harry had sworn faithfully never to run away again, displaying a sincerity she thought was genuine. And much to her vast relief, two days of sweat and blisters and aching muscles had convinced him that he would not enjoy the hard life of a seaman.

Those two days seemed an eternity to Aurora, but she had promised Nicholas she wouldn't interfere with his harsh methods. And just as Nicholas predicted, Harry had abandoned his dream of joining the merchant marine, although not happily.

When she gently reminded him that upon reaching his majority, he would be wealthy enough to buy a fleet of his own ships, he had brightened considerably and decided that he would, after all, prefer to spend the intervening years in Sussex with his mama – that he missed her greatly and perhaps her smothering was not really so unendurable.

Aurora was taking the boy home now, while Nicholas provided escort. She, too, wished she could have ridden on the beautiful summer day and avoided the warmth and dust inside the carriage. But not only did she need to keep Harry company, she knew it was wiser to maintain the discreet pretense of Nicholas as a family friend and not advertise their actual plan. Upon delivering Harry to his mama, they would start back toward London but detour to Berkshire, where they would spend a fortnight together, as Aurora had agreed.

Until now she had managed to quell her reservations, but as they moved deeper into the East Sussex countryside of her childhood, she was glad to have Harry's chatter to distract her from her misgivings and from her feelings of sadness. This was the first time in nearly a year that she had been home. After Geoffrey's death, she had preferred to live in London, for there it was easier to avoid the painful reminders of her loss. She'd distanced herself even farther when she sailed for the Caribbean with her cousin and his wife.

How her life had changed since then, Aurora reflected pensively. She had been wed and widowed and then unwidowed… She had become fully a woman, learning carnal knowledge at the hands of an expert lover who was the very opposite of the gentleman she had admired and cared for so much of her life.

This journey home roused sad memories of Geoffrey, and other ones as well.

Aurora stirred uncomfortably. She had tried not to think about her father or the darker feelings he engendered. The March and Eversley estates were close, merely a few miles apart, but she had no reason even to call on the duke, since he had washed his hands of her and banished her from his property.

She couldn't forget, however, his threat to whip her through the streets if she exceeded the bounds of propriety. And she would soon be exceeding those bounds with a vengeance. Her father would be outraged if he learned of her intention to spend two intimate weeks alone with Nicholas. Even now she was skirting the edge. She had eschewed a maid on the flimsy grounds that the trip was of short duration.

At least one worry was unfounded; she wasn't with child after her rash intimacies with Nicholas. Her courses had come and gone this past week. And from now on, whenever they were together, they would take the kind of precautions the journal had described.

"So," she said to Harry, making an attempt at cheerfulness as she drew out a deck of cards from her reticule. "What game shall we play?"

It was nearly an hour later when the coach turned onto the smooth gravel drive of the March estate, and by then Harry was squirming in his seat. His mother, Lady March, came out to meet them as soon as the carriage drew to a halt before the impressive brick mansion.

She embraced her son fervently, then greeted Aurora with almost as much fondness. Lady March had been a friend to Aurora since her mother's death, and they had shared the sorrow of Geoffrey's death. With Nicholas watching her, though, she willed herself to shrug off her sadness and made the introductions.

Lady March was effusive in her greeting to Nicholas as well, clasping his hand in gratitude with both of hers. "Harry's letters have been full of you, Mr. Deverill. I cannot thank you enough."

"It was nothing, my lady," Nicholas replied mildly.

"Oh, but it was. Harry has not had a man to guide him in…" She swallowed her sudden tears and pasted on a bright smile. "Will you be staying the night?" she asked Aurora.

"Thank you, but we must be getting back."

"You must at least have luncheon. And you must tell me all the gossip from London. I rarely get there these days, you know. Come into the house. Harry, you will join us…"

They settled in the drawing room until luncheon was served. Lady March kept Harry at her side, as if afraid he would disappear, but the moment the meal was through, Harry asked to be excused so he could go to the stables and visit his horses, barely waiting for permission before scrambling from his chair.

His mother stopped him from racing out the door, calling him to task for his ungentlemanlike behavior in front of guests.

"Pah, Rory is not a guest, Mama," Harry declared.

"Nevertheless you will apologize to her and to Mr. Deverill."

"Beg pardon," Harry said with an unrepentant grin.

"And I have yet to hear you thank her for her generous hospitality to you these past weeks," Lady March added sternly.

"Thank you, Rory." Returning to the table, he gave Aurora a fierce hug, shook Nicholas's hand, then dashed off.

Shaking her head in exasperation, Lady March sighed. "Sometimes I believe he is a changeling. He is so different from his brother Geoffrey…" She gave a start and glanced at Nicholas. "Now it is my turn to apologize, Mr. Deverill. I don't mean to be melancholy, but it is hard for a mother to lose a son. Or for a woman to lose her betrothed," she added, including Aurora in her rueful look.

Nick gave a sympathetic nod, but he wasn't as sanguine as he appeared. He wasn't at all happy with this visit, for it stirred up too many memories of his chief rival in Aurora's mind and heart. She had elevated the late Lord March onto a pedestal, and it would be difficult to knock him off.

He couldn't fight such a paragon, Nicholas knew. He could only try to make her forget – which he would do his damnedest to make happen if he could ever get her away from here.

Another event occurred, however, to raise more painful memories for Aurora and interfere with the continuation of their journey. They were about to take their leave when Lady March asked Aurora if she had heard from her father lately.

"No," she replied. "I'm afraid we have not been on the best of terms since my marriage."

"I understand he isn't faring too well," Lady March admitted. "Since you left, he has found it difficult to retain any servants. But I suppose it serves him right since he drove them all away with his vile temper."

Nicholas saw the fleeting emotions that ran across Aurora's beautiful face; clearly she was disturbed by what she had heard. She was silent, however, until Nicholas started to hand her into the carriage. Then she touched his arm.

"Before we leave," she said in a low voice, "I would like to call on my father."

Nick gave her a narrow look. "What do you expect to accomplish? You can't really wish to see him after the way he treated you."

"I don't wish to see him. But he is still my father."

"And you have an overdeveloped sense of duty," Nicholas said disapprovingly.

Aurora gave him a rueful smile. "I expect so."

"You don't owe him anything, Aurora. He's forfeited any right to your allegiance."

"Perhaps he has. But my conscience would always plague me if I left without making certain he is all right. You don't have to come with me if you don't wish to."

"Oh, no," Nick said with a dangerous smile of his own. "I would very much like the chance to meet the illustrious duke."

A short while later they arrived at the Eversley estate. The magnificent park had been badly neglected since she had last been there, Aurora saw with dismay. The gravel drive was rutted and unswept, while the unkempt lawns and ragged shrubbery looked a bit wild.

Her stomach was churning as she climbed the front steps with Nicholas, yet facing her father was something she had to do. She knew there was little chance for a reconciliation between them, nor did she really want one. But even though he had disowned her, he was her father, her flesh and blood. Whether he deserved compassion or not, she couldn't bring herself to turn her back on him. Not without making one last effort. She would never be able to close this chapter of her life, otherwise. She was very glad, however, to have Nicholas at her side.

When he applied the brass knocker, the thud sounded hollow, as if no one was home. Long minutes passed before the door was opened by a footman whose livery was soiled and disheveled. Not recognizing him, Aurora asked to see the duke.

"The duke ain't ‘ome," was the sullen response.

"He is not at home, or he is not receiving visitors?"

" ‘e ain't receiving."

"I should like to see him, nonetheless."

"And ‘oo might you 'appen to be?"

Aurora lifted her chin regally, staring the man down. "I might ‘happen' to be the duke's daughter, and I wish to speak to my father. You will please tell him I am here."

He glanced at Nicholas, as if sizing him up. Apparently deciding the visitor was both taller and stronger, the footman scowled and shuffled off.

Aurora glanced around her sadly. "When my mother was alive, this house was beautiful," she murmured.

She felt Nicholas's fingers brush her nape, a subtle display of sympathy and support. He didn't speak, but she felt him lending her strength, and she was grateful.

The servant finally returned. As sullen as ever, he gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. "‘is grace is in 'is study."

"I know the way," Aurora said coolly, moving past him.

Her footsteps slowed, however, when she neared the study door. Perhaps she was foolish to have come here. She pressed a hand to her stomach, reluctant to face the pain she knew she was about to bring on herself.

Bracing her shoulders, she stepped inside his study.

The sight of him was more shocking than she expected, even after Lady March's warning. The once noble Duke of Eversley was sprawled in a chair, his clothing as unkempt as his disreputable footman's, his blue eyes bleary and bloodshot as he scowled at her.

He had obviously been drinking, for his words were slurred when he spoke. "What the devil are you doing here? I told you I never wanted to set eyes on you again."

"Hello, Father," she said steadily. "Lady March said you were faring poorly."

"It is none of your business how I fare, you ungrateful wretch." Morosely, he lifted his glass of port wine to his lips and tossed off the remainder of the contents. "You are no daughter of mine. You defied my wishes, wedding a criminal on the gallows, shaming me… I should have taken my whip to you."

"Be very glad you didn't," Nicholas said chillingly beside her.

The duke's glance shifted to him. "Who the devil are you?"

Nicholas's smile did not reach his eyes. "The criminal's cousin, Brandon Deverill."

"Get out – and take her with you." Eversley raised his hand and pointed toward the door. "I won't have that whore in my house."

Aurora drew back as if slapped, but when Nicholas took a step forward, she laid a restraining hand on his arm. Rather than wounding her, her father's attack had only angered and saddened her.

"I shamed you, Father?" Her lips twisted in an ironic smile. "That is rich. What of the countless times you shamed me? The whole of my life I had to watch the despicable way you treated everyone around you. You ruled by fear, beating innocents and flying into rages for no other reason than that your porridge was cold or a speck of dust was left on your boots. Well, you should be quite happy now. You no longer must endure your servants' transgressions. You drove them all away."

His face mottled with rage, Eversley slammed down his glass and rose threateningly to his feet.

But Aurora stood her ground. "I feel sorry for you, Father. I truly do. I thought you had more pride. I never would have expected you to sink to this pathetic level."

"How dare you…" Belying his drunkenness, Eversley cursed and lunged for her, his hand poised to strike.

Nicholas moved like lightning. In an instant, he hauled the duke up by his cravat, spun him around, twisted his arm behind his back, then forced him forward till his face was mashed against the far wall.

Eversley gave a strangled cry of pain.

Nicholas's voice was low and harsh in response. "I've been itching to do this ever since I heard what a bullying brute you are."

"Get your… damned hands… off me!" Eversley exclaimed, gasping for breath.

"What? You don't like getting a taste of your own medicine?"

"Damn you… I will have you horsewhipped! I will have you arrested… for assaulting a peer."

"You are welcome to try. But I'm giving you fair warning. If you ever lay a finger on your daughter, I'll slit your gullet. You harm so much as a hair of hers, and I'll hunt you down like the scum you are. You won't live to see your next sunrise. Do I make myself clear?"

Weakly the duke nodded, but Nicholas still wasn't satisfied.

"Keep out of her life, do you understand me? I don't want to hear that you've spoken even a whisper against her."

"Yes! All right!" He nearly sank to his knees when Nicholas released his savage grip.

Aurora had watched the exchange with her heart pounding, forcing herself not to intervene. When her father's malevolent glance found her, she lifted her chin and returned his gaze, dry eyed. She deplored violence, yet she couldn't be sorry for this clash. The duke had finally met his match – someone who couldn't be intimidated or made to cower in fear from his rages. Nicholas wasn't terrified in the least by his threats.

Nicholas turned then and offered her his arm, and she went willingly. Neither of them spoke as he escorted her from the house and outside to the waiting carriage.

Instead of riding, he tied his horse to the rear and joined her inside, yet Aurora scarcely noticed. As the coach drew away, she stared unseeingly out the window at the fading view of her home.

She was still trembling, but her strongest emotion was a vast feeling of release. She was free of her father, after years of living under his oppressive thumb. She had broken his hateful hold over her. She couldn't help him, she finally acknowledged. No longer was she constrained by filial duty; she needn't feel any responsibility toward him at all. With his violent repudiation of her, he had relinquished any right even to her compassion.

Surprisingly she felt no guilt, only a deep sadness that it had to end this way, with the severing of blood ties.

It was a few moments before she realized that Nicholas was watching her with a hooded gaze.

"You are well rid of him," he said finally.

"Yes." She shook her head, amazed that she had endured his tyranny for so long. "All my life he has been like a shadow hovering over me… dark and menacing. He made my life a misery… He was always so hateful, so violent."

Nicholas's dark gaze intensified, yet held a touch of wariness. "I regret you had to witness that, but sometimes a bully can be stopped only by force."

"Perhaps so." She glanced down at Nicholas's hands. He had strong, beautiful hands, capable of violence and yet… Not all men were angry and brutal as her father was.

She gave him a fragile smile. "Thank you for what you did. I might not have found the courage to break free of him if not for you."

Nicholas felt her soft smile curl inside him and wanted to shout in triumph. She had dealt with one invidious relationship in her past. Now what remained was the ghost of her former love.

At the thought, Nick set his jaw. It would be far more difficult to free Aurora from that powerful influence. But he was determined to succeed. He would make her feel the same love for him that she once had harbored for her dead love. She would be his wife in every way.

The trouble was, he had only two weeks in which to do it.

They arrived well after dark at an elegant mansion hidden in a dense beechwood forest of the Chiltern Hills. At school, Aurora had heard whispered rumors about the pleasure houses wicked noblemen kept tucked away for their sinful purposes, but she had never envisioned anything quite so decadent. The chateau of honey-colored stone more closely resembled a miniature palace than an English manor, while the richly appointed interior had a distinctly exotic cast, with its tapestries and statuary and portraits of nudes.

They were greeted by a small staff and shown to separate rooms. Aurora found herself in a scented, dimly lit chamber hung with silks and brilliant paintings.

A low, wide bed stood against one wall, scattered with tasseled cushions in the Eastern manner. Near the divan, a table was set for a late supper. Along the opposite wall, marble arches led to a walled courtyard paved with brightly colored tiles.

Lured by the quiet splash of a fountain, she went to stand beneath one of the arches, staring out at the dark night. She could almost imagine herself stepping into Desiree's journal, a prisoner in the sandalwood splendor of a palace harem.

But she was no prisoner, Aurora reminded herself. Desiree had been enslaved and carried off to a strange land as a concubine, while she was here of her own free will. And yet she feared that like Desiree, she would be vulnerable to her master's exotic temptations and sweet seduction.

She sensed Nicholas before she heard his soft footfall. Wordlessly he slipped his arms around her from behind and drew her body back against his. Aurora sighed with pleasure at his warmth, his hardness. He was already hotly aroused, and yet they had barely touched. She shivered with anticipation of the night to come.

For a moment they simply stood there together in the hushed silence. She could hear the beating of her heart, feel the strong beat of his.

"Regrets?" he murmured finally against her ear.

He was asking if she was sorry to be here with him. She wasn't. She had qualms, but no regrets. The danger was very real, Aurora knew. It would require all the willpower she possessed to shield her heart from this powerful, vital man and the emotional firestorm he kindled inside her. Yet his promise of paradise was one no flesh-and-blood woman could ever refuse.

"No, no regrets."

"Good," Nicholas said softly.

Somewhere in the darkness came the musical trill of a nightingale.

"Then I have something to ask of you, sweetheart," he added quietly. "I want to renew the pact we made on our wedding night. For these next two weeks we live only for the present. While we're here, we have no past, no future, no discord… no inhibitions. We are lovers, simply that. This will be a time of forgetting, of sharing, of exploring. We can indulge in any fantasy we wish."

Aurora shut her eyes at the vision of heaven he offered. For these next two weeks, she could abandon herself in his arms, could completely indulge her passion for Nicholas. Perhaps then she could appease the hunger that was a constant ache inside her.

And then he would leave her, and her life would finally be at peace.

"Will you do that for me?" he prompted, his lips nuzzling her ear.

"Yes." She couldn't deny him anything he asked; she couldn't deny herself. She needed his kisses, his embrace, his passion. Needed them desperately…

Murmuring his name, Aurora turned in his arms, seeking his mouth. Nicholas was wrong, though. This would not be a time of forgetting, but of remembering.

She had to store up memories of him to cherish after he was gone. Enough memories to last a lifetime.

Chapter Twenty

He led me on an odyssey, into the fiery heart of passion.

His mouth was magical, his sensual heat creating a storm of sensation within Aurora. She felt want, yearning, need all rioting through her as they undressed each other with a feverish urgency. She was on fire, she was soaring, she was falling…

No, not falling. Nicholas had swept her up in his arms, his hot mouth still drinking deeply of hers. He carried her inside to the low couch, where he followed her down amid the silk cushions. She wrapped her arms around him, hot and feverish, wanting him desperately -

She barely heard the soft, intrusive rap on the door, but Nicholas gave a sudden shudder, as if striving for control.

"Wait, angel…" He took a deep breath and tried to untangle himself from her. "That will be supper. I asked that it be served here."

Reluctantly Aurora released him, missing his warmth already. He stood up fluidly, unfolding his nude body in a movement that was purely sensual, and with a final heated glance at her, let the gauzy bed curtain fall to conceal the divan where she lay.

Aurora drew the silk sheet up to cover her nakedness and waited impatiently. She could hear Nicholas admitting the servants and ordering the trays to be set on the table. Then the door shut quietly, leaving a hushed silence. A moment later Nicholas drew the curtain aside.

Aurora could feel her heartbeat quicken as she took in the sight of his magnificent body.

"Are you hungry?" he murmured.

"No… Yes… for you," she answered almost shyly.

His dark eyes met hers, shadowed flame. "You can satisfy your appetite, love, for as long as you wish."

Surprisingly, though, Nicholas turned away and went to the low table where supper had been laid out. Aurora watched as he inspected a bottle of champagne and poured some of the fizzing spirits into a dish.

His back was to her, and she found herself admiring the powerful, sinewed lines of his nude body. He was like the sensual prince in Desiree's journal – indeed, this entire room resembled the silk and sandalwood seraglio described in the journal, Aurora thought, her glance moving around the exotic bedchamber. Especially this low divan with its luxurious cushions and filmy curtains. She could almost imagine herself in the Frenchwoman's place, waiting for her lover. Nicholas was her magnificent master, and she his captive, meant only for his heathen pleasures.

"The decor here," Aurora remarked curiously, striving for calm, "is very much like the palace harem in the journal."

"That isn't entirely coincidence," Nicholas replied. "I asked that we be given these rooms once I learned of their Eastern motif. You seem so taken with the journal."

He returned to her then and sat beside her on the divan, presenting the dish for her inspection. It held several small sponges soaked in champagne.

"Do you remember what the journal said about preventing conception?"

"Yes." She was strangely disquieted by their purpose – preventing a man's seed from taking root – even though she couldn't possibly risk letting Nicholas get her with child.

"May I?" he asked.

"Yes."

The clamor of her heart echoed in the quiet of the room as Nicholas drew down the sheet to bare her body to his warm gaze. When he slid a wet sponge between her thighs, Aurora caught her breath at the chill sensation.

With a murmur of apology, he gently parted her legs and pressed the sponge into her pulsing cleft, then farther still, until it was sheathed deep within her body. Aurora shivered, but then his mouth followed his fingers, warming her cool flesh.

Aurora gasped at the fierce jolt of desire Nicholas created, and arched against him. It was ice and fire… But it wasn't enough.

"Nicholas," she pleaded, her urgency suddenly returning. "Come inside me." Eagerly she stretched out her arms to him in welcome, wanting him with all the willingness of her ripe woman's body. She wanted his hot skin against her, his heat, his power. She wanted him filling her.

He understood her craving, for without hesitation, he stretched out to cover her body with his. Pleasure darkened his eyes as he eased her legs open, his lean, hair-dusted thighs brushing abrasively against hers.

"Yes," he whispered hoarsely. "I want to be part of you all night, Aurora. I want to fall asleep deep inside you and wake up with the taste of you…"

He kissed her again, urgently, and entered her in one long, slow thrust. Breathless, Aurora closed her eyes as hardness and softness melded into one ravishing sensation.

Nicholas began to move then, his rhythm quickening luxuriously. His thighs pressing hers wider, he claimed her in hot, slick strokes, penetrating deeper and deeper each time.

Her senses on fire, Aurora wrapped her legs around his hips and arched up in welcome. He wasn't gentle, but she didn't want gentle. The incredible, exquisite, painful hunger was building, until her arousal was as intense as his own. They were man and woman, filled with primal need. She could not get close enough.

He plunged into her, driving her to a place of wanton delight, filled with bright, hot pleasure. She wanted to weep with the beauty of it.

Their coupling grew rough, wilder, till the fiery, clawing need became unbearable. They strained together, insatiable, in a mating of raw, animal passion. He demanded her surrender, demanded abandon, and she gave him both. She writhed beneath him. Her fingernails raked his back as he took her, her soft cries goading him to greater wildness.

Her frenzy at last ripped the last shred of restraint from Nicholas. His rasping breath choked words against her mouth as he drove into her. He shook with the pounding need to pleasure her, to possess her, to brand her with his passion…

The inferno broke over them in a tumult that made them both cry out. Aurora sobbed as her body erupted in a white-hot climax, while Nicholas groaned, a harsh, raw sound. Crushing her savagely close, he shattered in a searing explosion of emotion that had her name at the end of it.

In the heated aftermath, he collapsed against her. For a long moment, he lay there, trembling from the force of his thundering heart, the only movement his fingers clenching and unclenching in her hair.

Their bonding had been fierce and primal, like nothing he had ever felt before. He wanted to throw back his head and howl in triumph…

He had won this time. He had conquered Aurora's rigid control for the moment, making her surrender to overwhelming passion. But now came the far harder task: binding her to him in love.

And he had only two short weeks in which to succeed.

That night was the first of many such passionate moments together.

Despite her many qualms, Aurora found her time with Nicholas pure enchantment, a magical interlude in her life like nothing she had ever experienced. As he'd asked, they had no past, no future, no nationality. They were simply man and woman, lovers in a paradise of desire.

The opulent secluded mansion offered sinful enticements Aurora could never even have imagined, but it was Nicholas who made their time together pure bliss.

He showed her pleasure beyond her dreams, leading her into a realm of the flesh and of the senses. They spent long hours exploring the boundaries of erotic ecstasy. He taught her to please him and to openly express what pleased her. At his impetus, she cast away all inhibition or awkwardness, shedding the stifling codes of proper society with wild abandon, willingly surrendering to his tantalizing touch and the fire in his seductive eyes.

Nicholas made her feel utterly wanted and desired. And yet he challenged her spirit and her mind as well as her body. His intelligence and wit were a constant delight, while the rapier-sharp edge of his sensual charm made mincemeat of her usual reserve.

He made her laugh, and he made her yearn. She had never felt so cherished. She had never felt so free. Here she could be as wild and wanton as she wished.

It disturbed her, however, to discern his purpose. Nicholas was not only mirroring certain carnal elements of the journal; he was wooing her as the Turkish prince had wooed Desiree.

Aurora herself gave him an opening to discuss their courtship one afternoon when he surprised her reading the journal. Coming up behind her unaware as she sat in the garden, Nicholas bent to press a delicate kiss on her nape.

Aurora gave a start at the erotic sensation and glanced up.

"What holds you so fascinated that you didn't even notice me?"

"This."

She flushed as he took the jeweled volume from her and studied the page. "My lover and I are as one," he murmured, quoting a sensual passage. "All reserve between us, all secrets, gone." Nicholas eyed her thoughtfully. "That is precisely what I want for us, Aurora."

"My reserve is diminishing," she replied in her own defense. "You have seen to that."

"True, but you still have a long way to go." He returned the journal to her, but continued to regard her. "You are very much like Desiree was in the beginning – afraid of her own desire."

More alike than she cared to admit, Aurora thought unwillingly. Desiree had been a sheltered young innocent awakened to stunning passion by a man who became her obsession…"She had good reason to be afraid, Nicholas. As a concubine, she was completely powerless, totally at the mercy of a savage ruler."

"He proved not to be so savage. And eventually she came to wield a great deal of power over him." Moving around the bench, Nicholas sat beside her. "That's something else you have in common. You have no notion of your own power." He smiled tenderly. "I think you could rule me with very little effort."

When she made no response, Nicholas bent toward her. His mouth caught her earlobe, and she shivered again, violently.

"And another similarity," he breathed in her ear. "Desiree thought she wanted liberty, but she discovered something she valued more. Passion. She chose that over freedom."

Uneasily Aurora edged away from his tormenting attention. "You forget that her tale ended unhappily. That her passion resulted in misery."

"Our story won't end like that, Aurora." His lips found her neck again, moving softly on her skin, each caress spinning pleasure about them like some silken, invisible web. "You can have all the incredible passion Desiree found without the heartache…"

"Nicholas, please…" She shook her head. "You said we wouldn't think about our future."

"So I did." His eyelids drooped sensually as he gazed at her. "Then kiss me, sweetheart, and make me forget…"

Gratefully, Aurora moved into his arms and raised her mouth to his, giving herself over to his sensual passion.

To her relief Nicholas did not mention the journal again, allowing her to slip back into their fantasy.

They took long lingering walks together, wandering the grounds, absorbed in each other. The gardens were a delight, boasting elegant, erotic statuary and even a giant maze sculpted from topiary yews, while the surrounding woods were intriguing. The dense, green-gladed beechwood offered an enchanted world all its own, full of quiet paths and running streams with mossy banks, dappled with blinks of golden sunlight and cool shadow.

They rode as well as walked. Here in this secluded hideaway, Aurora could indulge her secret vice to her heart's content. One of her greatest pleasures was enjoying a wild gallop through a morning meadow with the wind in her face and Nicholas close on her heels.

Mostly, however, they made love. Nothing was forbidden, no place or time off limits. Nicholas was determined to shatter every last measure of her reserve. They made love in the bath, and at the supper table, and beside the reflecting pool, sheltered by the high courtyard walls. They fed each other honey-drenched sweetmeats and delicious fruits, and then drank from each other's lips. They made love on a bed of rose petals, whose fragrant perfume was almost dizzying, just as in the journal.

The journal guided Aurora in certain instruments of delight as well. Her favorite novelty was a pair of smooth silver balls, meant to be inserted deep between a woman's thighs and designed to titillate and arouse.

The first time Aurora wore them was a shock; she had never felt such awareness of her body, or of Nicholas's. The delicious sensations filled her with such excitement, she could scarcely keep her hands off him.

They explored the maze during an afternoon warm and lazy and golden with sunlight. Nicholas made the venture an exercise in eroticism, showering her with hot, slow kisses as he led her deeper into the winding labyrinth.

When they reached the very heart of the maze, Aurora was unsurprised to find a life-size marble statue of two lovers in the throes of passion, displayed like a shrine in a grassy, open-air temple. She had no trouble divining Nicholas's intent when he spread a quilt on the grass and tugged off his cravat. But when he reached for her, she tensed. The high yew hedges offered all the privacy she could wish for, yet she still wasn't completely comfortable at such licentiousness.

At her hesitation, Nicholas gave her a look that was a challenge. "No one can see us, sweeting, but if it really troubles you…"

"No," she replied, remembering all the wonderful pleasures she had discovered at his wanton urging. "It doesn't trouble me."

"I'm glad. I want you naked, love, with only hot skin between us. Come here."

He drew her into his embrace, his soft, persuasive lips caressing her face. Aurora responded helplessly, swaying closer to the solid strength of him.

She melted to his touch as he freed her warm skin to the sun and to his hands; she could feel her body softening, turning to warm, sweet honey.

When she finally stood nude before him, his eyes devoured her with a boldness that alone aroused her. The mere feel of his heated eyes on her naked breasts made them quiver with sensation. Her nipples were peeking out from beneath the burnished strands of her hair, and his index finger leisurely traced an aureole. Aurora caught her breath as he plucked it to a taut peak.

Hearing the soft sound, he raised both his hands to cover her lush breasts. "You have the most responsive nipples. One touch and they harden."

His warm palms rubbing the crested points, he watched her start and shiver under his touch.

"Nicholas…"

At her husky plea, he made a sympathetic sound. "Easy, sweet."

He kissed her mouth, not roughly but possessively, as if he meant to make her his, then slowly bore her down to the coverlet. He was still clothed, while she was completely naked, Aurora realized.

She stared up at him with a sharp sense of awareness. He returned her gaze boldly as he knelt above her, his hot eyes roaming over her. Aurora felt her breath catch in her throat. She lay completely exposed to the sun and to his heated gaze, and when he looked at her with such raw hunger, she felt deliciously sinful and desirable.

She reached for him, but he shook his head. "No. Just let me touch you."

She closed her eyes, feeling an erotic heat spread through her body that had nothing to do with the warmth of the sun. His hands were moving over her flesh, creating a sensation so piercing and sweet, she felt weak. Then he bent his head, his lips lowering to lovingly attend her breasts.

The heat within her intensified; every sensation was vividly magnified as his tongue worshiped her breasts with slow, languid strokes upon their throbbing peaks. Restlessly, Aurora clutched the coverlet with her fingers. When he blew on the nipple that was still glistening from his mouth, she moaned.

"Nicholas…" she exclaimed hoarsely, "I want you…"

He drew back; his eyes caressed her bare breasts. "Yes, I know."

The tender half smile playing on his lips promised even greater delights as his hand moved down her body to slip between her thighs to cover her hot, pulsing feminine mound. She gasped aloud, and then gasped again at the luscious slide of his thumb against the moist and aching focus of sensation.

"You are already wet for me," he said in husky approval. "Maybe we should see if we can make you wetter."

Easing himself between her parted, shivering thighs, he bent down to taste her. Excitement pierced Aurora like a lightning bolt as she realized his brazen intent.

Holding her hips with his strong hands, Nicholas brushed a probing kiss against her feminine cleft. Aurora gave a strangled moan at the intimate caress. "Ohhhh."

"Yes, love, let me hear you…" His lips faintly upturned in the quiet certainty of his power, he bent to her again.

A delicious shock flared through her body as he explored the yielding, warm folds of flesh with his erotic mouth. Shuddering uncontrollably, she gave herself over to his lavish sensuality.

Her head fell back in surrender as he savored her with his caressing lips and tongue. When she arched against him, he clasped her buttocks, giving her no opportunity to evade him. With exquisite skill he lapped at her slowly, thoroughly, his hot, rasping tongue stroking her in heated pulses, delighting the quivering, throbbing bud that was the center of her pleasure.

Her hands rose to his hair, desperately clutching. His mouth with its lazy suckling was driving her wild. "God… Nicholas… please."

"Oh, yes," he murmured against her hot flesh. "I will please you in every possible way."

He held her to him more firmly, his face pressed against her, his tongue delving inside her swollen cleft, sweetly ravishing.

Fire leapt from his mouth into her flesh, dragging a wrenching shudder from her. Her whole body was a hot screaming mass of desire. She writhed beneath him, whimpering mindlessly, until finally a shriek tore from her.

She climaxed again and again, a wild, rippling, seemingly never-ending series. Mercilessly he drew every last drop of excruciating pleasure from her quivering flesh, until she fell back, limp and helpless with exhaustion.

Satisfied, he stretched out beside her. After a long moment, he pressed a kiss against her temple. "You cannot fall asleep just yet," he murmured warmly against her ear. "We have only begun to obliterate your inhibitions."

Aurora stirred against him languorously, not wanting to move. It was scandalous, what he had done, but she couldn't bring herself to lament her wanton behavior. Instead she wanted more.

"I am not about to fall asleep," she returned in a voice still husky with passion. "I am simply being patient, waiting for you to undress. You have far too many clothes on."

His smile was so sensual, it made her heart turn over. "Your wish is my command, angel."

He started to undress, but Aurora took over. It was her turn to torment him.

Kneeling over him, she took off his garments, one by one, drawing out the moment. When he was nude, she sat back on her heels, marveling at his hard-muscled glory. His skin was golden in the sunlight, except for the paler flesh at his groin and upper thighs. He was brazen, naked male, all corded muscle and lithe strength. And he was boldly aroused.

"Now what do you mean to do with me?" he murmured, half taunting.

She returned her own taunting smile in answer. Holding his gaze, she reached for him, her hands cupping his hard, pulsing arousal.

His groan was soft and erotic in the quiet of the afternoon.

When he tried to pull her down to him, she released him abruptly and pressed her palms against his powerful chest. She intended to be the seducer this time. "No, Nicholas. You aren't to touch me. You aren't even to move."

Reluctantly he obeyed, holding his arms by his side.

Aurora leaned over him, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath her hands, his hot skin against her palms.

"You think you can make me burn?" he asked, his tone challenging.

"I know I can," she replied, feeling very, very powerful.

She bent to taste him, running her tongue over his silky, granite-hard flesh.

He arched against her mouth, as if in pain. "Aurora…"

"Be still."

She knelt there in the warm sunlight, attending to him, arousing him the way he had her. It was exciting, exhilarating. She was totally in control this time, driving Nicholas slowly mad with desire. In only a few moments, his breathing became erratic. She felt his hand clutch in her hair as he strove to remain still.

"Enough," he at last muttered roughly. "Have mercy. I surrender."

He caught her shoulders and drew her down to lie full length upon him. Her breasts lightly caressed his chest as she stared down into his pleasure-hazed eyes.

Aurora didn't protest as he lifted her up to settle her astride him. It was what she wanted, too. She drew a sharp breath as he lowered her onto his thick shaft, his slow, filling length impaling her, then sighed when she felt the heat of him inside her.

"Do you know how badly I want you?" he asked, his voice a hoarse rasp as he held her hips to draw her even closer, to push himself even deeper. "I want to bury myself completely inside you…"

Aurora arched her back, totally aroused. He was huge and hard and hot and filling her to bursting. Helplessly, she began to move, no longer maintaining the slightest measure of control. She rode him wildly, gasping, quaking against him, while her hips undulated in a mindless rhythm.

As her aching moans filled the air, though, his rough excitement grew to match her own frenzy. He arched up, driving into her. Aurora erupted, crying out with abandon as he forced jolt after tormenting jolt from her.

Her explosive heat shattered the last of his control. He whispered her name, fierce and low, and then let himself go, his body contracting in a wrenching, tearing release. When it was over, Nicholas sagged weakly back, while Aurora collapsed upon him, totally drained.

She lay there contented, bliss convulsing her senses. Nicholas had been right all along, she thought dazedly. She did have a hidden fire buried deep inside her. He had kindled it from the moment they had met.

She had not realized the depths of her need until now. Until knowing Nicholas, she had merely existed, pretending she could escape feeling a woman's desires, a woman's wants. And now she couldn't deny them. He filled her with a yearning so powerful, she ached.

A line from the journal floated into her mind: I belonged to him, a captive of his raw and untamed passion. That was how she felt about Nicholas. She was prisoner of his desire. Her physical need for him was like a sickness…

Aurora's contentment suddenly faded, while her throat tightened. Nicholas was doing everything in his power to bind her to him with chains of love, wooing her with his tenderness and his gentle-fierce lovemaking. He had made her a woman and now he was bent on capturing her heart.

Dear God, she didn't want to love him. Yet he was making it harder and harder to resist.

The constriction in her throat increased.

Before Nicholas, she had yearned for a passionless life. She had desperately wanted to avoid the pain of loving him and losing him.

Yet how could she wall herself off emotionally from him now, when he was so set on taking full possession of her heart? How could she withstand his vital force when he was so single-mindedly tearing away her defenses with his incredible passion?

How, she wondered desperately, could she quell her own relentless need and this painful, yearning ache inside her?

Their agreement to live only in the present held into their second week. During one of their morning rides in the forest, however, they ventured into a discussion that Aurora would have preferred to leave alone.

She had just set her mount at a huge log, an obstacle that even Nicholas was leery of. She cleared it with inches to spare but had him shaking his head in wonder at her bravado.

"Don't talk to me about the risks I take," he said dryly. "I would never be so suicidal as to hazard that fence riding sidesaddle."

She laughed, still feeling the exhilaration of her success, and patted her horse's neck fondly. "I don't believe you, Nicholas," she retorted as she resumed her place beside him. "From what I have seen, you aren't the least afraid of anything. You have no fear."

"Oh, no," Nicholas said with a twisting smile. "I have one very great fear."

"And what is that?"

"I'm afraid I will lose you."

Aurora fell silent, not wanting to tread such dangerous grounds. "You said we wouldn't speak of such things."

"Sorry," he said unrepentantly. "But you did ask. And we will have to broach the subject at some point before I leave for America."

Disquieted, she tried to raise her defensive walls. "Nicholas, our time together here has been… wonderful, but our relationship is merely pretense. Whatever feelings we share now are only temporary. They cannot last."

"I would like them to be permanent, Aurora."

She knew her dismay was written on her face, but then he made light of her alarm.

"Very well, I won't ask for your heart. Only your body."

His grin held such devil-may-care charm that she couldn't be certain he was even serious, yet unaccountably she felt a stab of pain at his nonchalance.

Aurora shook her head. "I am not the sort of woman you want for your life's mate."

"I vehemently dispute that, love. You're the perfect match for me. You have never had any trouble holding your own in our disputes or in any other arena. You are more than equal to any challenge I could throw at you."

A troubled frown darkened her brow. "Don't you understand, I do not want you to throw challenges at me. I am not like you, Nicholas. All you care about is danger and excitement and adventure. I'm not at all interested in such a wild life."

"Nor am I any longer. I've thought about the questions you put to me, Aurora. You asked if I was willing to be faithful to you. Well, I am. Completely."

She stared at him.

"I'm through wandering, I promise you. I'm through taking unnecessary risks. All I want is to settle down with you… to be your husband, perhaps raise a family."

"You would actually give up your adventurous life in order to raise children?" she asked with total skepticism.

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "I know, it sounds unlikely. But I've discovered something in the past few years… Adventure begins to pall when you have no one to share it."

She met his dark gaze searchingly. "I'm not certain I believe you," Aurora said finally.

"Well, I don't believe you're as timid as you pretend," he replied, his tone turning light once more. "I think you like to be daring, like how it makes you feel." A wicked gleam shone in his eyes. "Come closer and I will prove it to you."

They were riding side by side now through the dense, silent beechwood, his knee nearly touching her mount's side.

"I cannot move any closer," Aurora pointed out warily.

His mouth slashed in a sinful male grin. "Yes, you can." Reaching out, he caught her around the waist and scooped her onto his horse to sit sideways in front of him.

Startled, Aurora clung to his arm for balance. "What in heaven's name are you doing?"

"Showing you how daring you can be. Now turn around and lean back against me. Put your leg over my horse's neck… that's right."

"Nicholas… this is mad…"

Her protest was interrupted by a gasp as he drew down the bodice of her gown to expose her bare breasts. An arrow of heat shot through her as he cupped the lush swells. Involuntarily Aurora arched against him, even as she gasped out an objection. "Nicholas… anyone could see us!"

"No one is within miles of us."

She could feel her breasts trembling, peaking, straining to fill his hands as she quivered in his arms. "Damn you, why are you doing this?"

"Because," he whispered huskily in her ear, "I want you to remember me. For the rest of your days, whenever you ride, you'll think of me. Now hush and enjoy this…"

Her nipples became velvet daggers against his palms as he lavished her with tantalizing caresses. No longer resisting, Aurora bit her lip and leaned back against him, giving herself over to his erotic ministrations.

When she was thoroughly pliant, his hand stole unerringly beneath her skirts and found the curls at the apex of her thighs. His bold caress sent a shock of pleasure surging up through her body.

"Open your legs to me, love," he murmured. Yet Aurora needed no further urging. She was so ready, so instantly aroused that she trembled.

She whimpered as his hand pressed wantonly against her starving flesh. There was a brazenness about it that thrilled her. Her breathing became harsh and ragged as he molded his ringers over her sex, stroking, teasing, finding a relentless rhythm that matched the steady rocking of his horse.

"God, you're so silky wet…" he whispered encouragingly. "So wet and so hot, it makes me want to take you right here."

She groaned at the indescribable pleasure of that possessing hand, undulating her pelvis beneath his palm. The heat building inside her was like a raging fire.

When she climaxed, Nick held her trembling, shaking body as passion flared through him. This was how he wanted her, hungry and burning with desire for him. Yet there was a vital element still missing.

He pressed his lips against her sun-bright hair, his own desire tormenting him with what he wanted more than breath. He should have felt triumphant, seeing her swept up in the storm of carnal passion he had striven to create. Aurora couldn't deny her body's need any more than he could. But while he could demand sexual surrender from her, it was her love he wanted. His want had become craving, a feverish hunger.

He had lied a moment ago. He did intend to ask for her heart. He could claim her body, but it would not be enough.

He was wiser now. Since meeting Aurora, he had come to believe an elemental truth. Something his father had tried to tell him, what the journal so eloquently expressed. That for every man there was one woman who was destined to be his life's mate.

Aurora was his mate, his destiny; Nicholas knew it in his soul.

But he had yet to convince her of that. Hell, he hadn't even told her of his love. Perhaps that had been a mistake. When he'd first realized his true feelings, he had wanted the opportunity to show Aurora how he felt, to give her the chance for her own feelings to grow. He had hoped physical passion would lead to love, and it still might…But he was swiftly running out of time.

Nicholas drew a steadying breath. This wasn't the right moment, but he would have to press the issue, and soon.

Chapter Twenty-One

His price was too dear: he demanded my heart.

Aurora stared without seeing at an open page of the journal. She sat alone on a stone bench within the walled courtyard, shaded by towering, scarlet-blossomed rhododendrons, yet her thoughts were far away, in another time and place. The quiet ripple of the fountain in the shallow reflecting pool serenaded her along with the echo of Desiree's words written nearly a century before.

How I ache with the struggle in my heart and the irrevocable choice he has given me. I long for freedom; I yearn to escape this strange, exotic world and return to the familiar, genteel life I once knew. Yet the chains of passion binding me are as strong as my yearning.

What am I to do? What future is there here for me? He can never wed me, not if he means to survive the political intrigues of the Turkish court. Acknowledging his love for a foreign woman, a Christian no less, would be viewed as fatally weak. I can remain only as his concubine, one of many. The children born of my body would belong to his savage world, never mine.

And love can so easily fade, passion more swiftly still. He desires me now, yet what of five years from now, or ten, or thirty? Will I still be beautiful in his eyes when my flesh has lost its firmness, when my white skin its smoothness, when younger beauties seek to gain his affections? He claims so… but can I believe professions made in the magical heat of passion? Can I believe the love that burns in his dark eyes?

He says the choice is mine alone. Seeing my sadness in captivity, he has offered me the power to break my chains. He will set me free, if that is what I wish, because he desires my happiness above his own.

And so I struggle to decide what is truly in my heart. Do I grasp at this chance for freedom, making my escape, never to see him again, never to feel his sensual touch again? Could I bear to live without him? Or do I remain with him, a slave to passion, abandoning all thought of my former life, my family, my friends, my very life, to be with him for as long as he wants me?

Sweet heaven, I do not know.

Aurora shut her eyes, torn by conflict as Desiree had been. Like the Frenchwoman, she had an irrevocable choice to make: to keep her heart safe and avoid the pain of an impossible love. Or to risk an uncertain future with a magnificent man.

What am I to do? She could no longer fight her passion for Nicholas, or deny that her feelings for him were growing ever deeper. She trembled with the joy of being in his arms; his presence brought her desperate happiness. But to lose Nicholas after loving him would be devastating.

Even now it would be hard to let him go. Could she bear to live without him when he left England?

Aurora shook her head in despair, feeling as lost as Desiree had felt.

"Aurora?"

With a start, she glanced up to see Nicholas standing beside her.

Her stomach muscles clenched involuntarily. This was her last day with him in their secret paradise. Until.now they had mostly avoided the main issue between them – the matter of their marriage. But she could see in the solemn depths of his eyes that the time had come to face truths she was still not quite ready to face.

He sat beside her on the stone bench. "Did you come here to escape me?"

"Not really," she murmured, avoiding meeting his penetrating gaze. "I was merely thinking."

He took her hand, entwining his warm fingers with hers. "Thinking about the choice you have to make?"

"Yes."

"Whether you will come with me when I leave England."

"Yes."

"And have you reached a decision?"

"No… not yet." She raised her troubled gaze to his. "I've never been to America, Nicholas. I don't know a soul there."

"You know me."

"And what happens when you go off into the world seeking adventure?"

"I told you, I am done seeking adventure." His thumb stroked her palm absently. "Life with you would be adventurous enough. Each day with you seems fresh and new."

When she didn't answer, Nicholas smiled faintly. "There will be times I shall have to travel because of my shipping business, but I would like nothing more than to have you sail with me. If you prefer to remain home, though, you will have new friends to bear you company. I think you will like my mother and sisters, and I know they will love you. We could make it work, Aurora."

She searched his dark eyes. "I still find it hard to believe you would be willing to give up your freedom."

Nicholas shrugged. "Freedom is overrated, I've come to realize. There has never been anything in my life I cared enough about to make me want to give it up. Until you."

"You'll give it up until you tire of me."

He returned her gaze steadily. "That will never happen."

"How can you know?"

She heard him draw a measured breath. "Because… I've fallen in love with you."

Stunned, disbelieving, Aurora stared at him.

"It's true," Nicholas said with a crooked, masculine smile. "You captured my heart on the quay in St. Kitts. Only it took me some time to realize it."

"You don't really love me…" she breathed.

"No?" She watched his dark eyes turn very deep and soft. "How could I not love you after what you did for me? You saved my life, Aurora. You came to my rescue like an avenging angel, sparing me the brutal pleasure of my guards. You wed me at great risk to yourself, when you knew your father would be outraged. You've cared for Raven as if she were your own sister."

"Nicholas, you are confusing love with gratitude."

"No, sweeting. I'm not. From the very first, I've felt a bond with you that I've never experienced with any other woman." His voice was low, vibrant. "On our wedding night, it seemed as if we were joined in spirit as well as the flesh. The next morning, severing that bond… Sending you away was the hardest thing I've ever done. And afterward, when I knew I would live, you haunted my dreams. You stole my heart and left me aching with desire."

Her own heart wrenched at his singular admission. Could she possibly believe what Nicholas was saying? Did he truly love her? Or was he only telling her what he thought she wanted to hear, so that she would remain his wife?

"Nicholas," she said finally, "a marriage needs more than carnal desire to sustain it throughout the years."

"We have much more than that, sweetheart."

"We have passion, I cannot dispute that. But how long will that last? Passion can fade so easily."

He gazed down at their entwined fingers. "Or it can grow into love."

Aurora followed his gaze to their clasped hands, myriad emotions welling in her – want, hope, wonder, need, doubt.

He leaned his forehead against hers. "Be my wife, Aurora," he said, his voice soft.

"Nicholas…" she murmured. She wanted so much to believe him. "I… need more time."

After a moment he drew back. "I understand. You're not yet ready to commit yourself." He kissed her gently on the mouth and stood, releasing her hand. "You don't have to decide just yet. We'll return to London tomorrow, but it will take a few days to prepare my ship to sail."

"So soon?" she asked with a sharply indrawn breath.

His handsome face was a study in solemnity as he gazed down at her. "I'm afraid so." He hesitated. "I want you to come with me to America, Aurora, but I won't compel you. You would only resent me for it. You have to come willingly, because you want to be with me. With all my soul I hope your answer is yes."

He turned away then, leaving her to herself. Aurora watched him go, her gaze blurring, her heart torn.

Did she dare risk believing him? Or was Nicholas still trying to rescue her from her passionless existence, embellishing his arguments with tempting beguilements and promises of love in order to persuade her? How could she be certain what he felt for her was truly love? How could she even be certain of her own heart?

After a long moment, she glanced down at the jeweled book in her lap. Fresh tears stung her eyes as she remembered the Frenchwoman's fate in the journal. Desiree's prince had promised her raptures of love more precious than treasure, but in the end had given her only pain; the tale had ended tragically with the death of her prince.

Desiree had made her choice – to remain with her lover – but in so doing, had become his greatest vulnerability. Betrayed by the schemes of a jealous concubine, she was stolen from the palace harem by his fiercest enemy and carried off to a remote mountain fortress. The prince had mounted a long siege, determined to rescue her, but while he had killed her abductor, he was mortally wounded himself.

Desiree had wept tears of agony as her lover lay dying in her arms. Yet it was her anguished lament afterward that still rang in Aurora's mind.

Regret tastes like bitter poison on my tongue. Why, why did I ever let my self love you?

With trembling fingertips, Aurora reached up to wipe her tears away, wondering with a sharp sense of desperation if she was succumbing to the same malady.

A pale sliver of moonlight fell across the bed where Nick lay entwined with Aurora. He had never felt such a sense of rightness – the simple contentment of watching a woman sleep in his arms and knowing he wanted to be like this forever. He might be giving up his adventurous life, but loving her would be an even greater adventure. It would be enough.

She was the only woman he had ever wanted this way, fiercely, desperately, permanently. The only one who filled the empty places in his soul. Every time he touched her, he was swept up by an emotion so intense, it took his breath away.

He loved her. Love. It was like a fire burning deep in his heart. Nicholas drew her closer, pressing his face against the intoxicating softness of her skin, wanting to absorb her very essence.

She was wavering, he knew. For the first time, Aurora was actually contemplating what it would be like to live in America as his wife. For the first time, he could dare let himself believe he might someday win her love.

For the first time he could feel an easing of the taut knots of fear inside him.

Aurora still had made no decision the following day when they returned to London. She was grateful Nicholas rode beside the carriage instead of with her, for her thoughts were in such turmoil, she desperately needed the time alone, without his compelling, vital presence to overwhelm her senses and her good sense.

When the carriage drew to a halt before her house, she was slow to descend, feeling a lingering reluctance to have their magical interlude end. Nicholas escorted her up the front steps, where they were admitted by her stately butler.

It was only after Aurora relinquished her shawl to Danby, however, that she noticed the strange expression on his face.

"Danby, what is it?" she asked. "Are you unwell?"

"Well enough, thank you, my lady." The elderly man cleared his throat. "But if I may be so bold, I fear you should brace yourself for some strange tidings." He paused, his mouth grim. "Lord March has returned."

"Harry?" Aurora replied, torn between alarm and exasperation. "He has run away from home again?"

"No, my lady, not young Harry. It is his brother, the elder Lord March."

Aurora felt a cold chill squeeze her heart. "Geoffrey?" she whispered, suddenly hoarse. "No, that is impossible."

She must have looked faint, for Nicholas's hand came up to support her arm. "You must be mistaken, Danby," she forced herself to say. "Geoffrey has been dead this past year. He perished at sea."

"So it was believed," Danby said solemnly. "But his body was never found. It seems his lordship survived the shipwreck and washed up on the shores of France. He was badly wounded, but he is in truth alive, my lady."

In a shocked daze, Aurora turned to stare up at Nicholas.

His dark eyes were hooded, his expression a mask of stone.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I am that most miserable of creatures, a woman tormented by heartache .

Still shaken by the shocking revelation, Aurora mounted the front steps of the elegant London mansion belonging to the Earl of March. A knot of anticipation tightened her stomach at the thought of seeing her former betrothed again after he'd been presumed dead for more than a year.

At least she needn't concern herself with the impropriety of calling on him. According to Danby, Lady March was in residence, having accompanied her prodigal son to London three days ago, along with young Harry.

Aurora fiercely regretted not being in town for Geoffrey's return. She should have been there to greet him – and the subterfuge she'd engaged in to explain her two-week absence only compounded her feelings of guilt. She'd given out the tale that she was visiting the sickbed of a school-hood friend in Berkshire, when in truth she had been indulging in a fortnight of erotic pleasure with Nicholas.

Briefly she shut her eyes, remembering Nicholas's face when he'd learned the news. His grim countenance had suggested very clearly that he didn't welcome March's revival.

She could scarcely believe this impossible turn of fate herself. It was incredible that the second of her betrotheds should return from the grave…

Nicholas had volunteered to escort her here, but she needed to see Geoffrey alone, in private. She still had no idea what she would or could say to him, whether to tell him of her marriage and her growing passion for another man, but she knew their first meeting would be too personal, too emotional, for an audience.

Aurora was acquainted with the footman who admitted her, and when she asked to speak to his lordship, she was shown at once to a parlor. She braced herself for what she would find, but was surprised when Lady March rose to greet her.

The countess had been crying, quite clearly, but she dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief before taking Aurora's hand.

"I hoped I would have the chance to speak with you before you saw Geoffrey. I… I am afraid you must prepare yourself, Aurora. He is not the same man you knew."

"Danby said he had been severely wounded."

"Yes, that is true… He… he lost an arm." Fresh tears sprang to her eyes.

"Come, sit down," Aurora said solicitously. Leading the countess back to the settee, she sat beside the distraught woman and put a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"I am unclear about what happened," Aurora said, wanting to distract Lady March from her grief. "How did he even survive?"

Her ladyship drew an unsteady breath, struggling for composure. "When his yacht sank off the coast of France, Geoffrey washed ashore, badly injured and with no memory of his past or even his identity. He was taken in by a French family, where he remained in hiding from Napoleon's army, recovering his health. But his arm grew putrid and had to be…" She shuddered. "It is a miracle that he is even alive, and I am very grateful, truly, but… my poor son…" Her voice broke on a sob and she buried her face in her hands.

For a long moment she sat quietly weeping, while Aurora murmured consoling reassurances. Finally the countess's tears stopped and she recovered enough to use her kerchief to blot her eyes.

"Oh, Aurora, I am so glad you have come," she said, her voice muffled by lace. "You are just what Geoffrey needs. I know you will stand by him – " Abruptly the countess raised her tear-streaked face in consternation. "You would not be put off by a missing arm… would you? That would not change your feelings for him?"

"No," Aurora said soothingly. "Of course not. My feelings for Geoffrey will never change."

Lady March nodded gratefully. "He seems despondent, Aurora. His memory still is not fully restored, and he is so very thin. I fear for him. But now that you are here…" She forced a smile. "Everything can return to the way it was. You can be married this summer, and become my daughter in truth."

Aurora's heart twisted, both at the hope she saw in her friend's eyes and the hurt she knew she would bring when she confessed that she couldn't marry Geoffrey. She started to reply, but then realized it would be fairer to tell Geoffrey first.

"I would like to see him, if I may," she said quietly.

"Yes, yes, of course… I believe he is in the library. I will have Starks show you there."

Aurora knew the way, for she'd spent many a pleasant hour in the March library. But it was better for her to be announced, to allow Geoffrey time to prepare himself – and time for herself to bring her own emotions under control.

Several minutes passed before she found herself at the library door, her heart beating painfully. Geoffrey stood at the window, his back to her. The right sleeve of his jacket was pinned up nearly to the shoulder.

"Geoffrey?" she said quietly.

He turned slowly to meet her gaze. Her first reaction was one of shock as they stared at each other across the room. His beloved face was lined with pain, and he was far thinner than before. But he gave her the same gentle smile.

It was all Aurora could do to hold back the ache of tears in her throat. She managed a smile, however, as she crossed to him. Needing to touch him, to feel that he was truly alive, she reached up to put her arms around him. "Welcome home," she said simply, pressing her face into his shoulder.

She held him that way in an embrace that was comforting rather than carnal. Hesitantly his one good arm slid around her shoulders to draw her closer.

After a moment, Geoffrey gave a soft laugh. "I should have realized you would know precisely the right thing to say."

Aurora drew back, searching his face. "I am so very glad to see you. I've missed you unbelievably."

His handsome mouth twisted in a bitter smile. "I fear I cannot express the same sentiment… About missing you, I mean. Until a few weeks ago, I had no memory of my past life. Only images…" He reached up to touch her cheek. "I saw your beautiful face, Aurora, but I never knew why. It was only when Wycliff found me that the images became stronger. I think he must have jogged something loose in my mind, for I've slowly been regaining my memory since then."

"Wycliff? The Earl of Wycliff found you in France?"

"Yes, Lucian rescued me. In truth, I owe you both a debt of gratitude. It's because of you that he spent the last two months scouring the French countryside, searching for me."

Aurora frowned, wondering what the earl would be doing in France when the two countries had been at war for years. "How is that possible? How could Wycliff avoid capture by Napoleon's forces for that long a period?"

"He was in disguise, actually."

"Disguise?"

Geoffrey looked ill at ease. "Aurora, I will tell you something in confidence. Wycliff is actually a spy. A damned good one, I understand."

"Spy?" She stared, suddenly remembering the wild tales his younger brother had told her about Geoffrey. "Harry claimed you were engaged in spying," she said slowly, "but I thought he was simply fabricating a fantasy."

Geoffrey hesitated a long moment. "I was on a mission for England when my ship went down."

Startled, she eyed him with disbelief. "I never understood why you were sailing so near the French coast. You were spying?"

"Not precisely. Nothing like what Wycliff's agents do. I had only to break the secret codes of various dispatches. I've always been good with ciphers and puzzles, you know."

"Why did you never tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry. Harry learned about it only because he eavesdropped on a conversation." Geoffrey frowned. "He should never have mentioned it, for he was sworn to secrecy."

"I would indeed have worried." Aurora shook her head, still not quite believing what she was hearing. "I cannot understand why you would become involved in something so dangerous."

"Why?" His smile was fleeting. "Because I finally had a chance to make a worthwhile contribution, Aurora. I have been bookish all my life, but that doesn't mean I never had a secret yearning to slay dragons, to reach beyond the confining boundaries of my rank and social position. I wanted in some small way to help in the fight against Napoleon, to save the world from his tyranny. Even now, I would do it again."

"Even at the risk of your life?"

"The risk was not supposed to be very great. I was merely to meet a courier in France and pick up the dispatches – but then my ship encountered a storm. The next thing I knew, I was waking on a straw pallet in a barn, with no idea of who I was. I spent most of the last year as a man with no name or past."

She reached up to smooth a lock of his fair hair back from his forehead that was etched with pain. "But your memory has returned now?"

"Not completely. Each day something new comes to me. Aurora, I am not the same man you knew… I still suffer excruciating headaches, and I walk with a limp, besides losing my arm…"

Her heart ached for him. "Geoffrey, I am so sorry."

"I don't want your pity, Aurora. I survived, while many good men did not – my crew included."

"Then I won't give you pity. But I can offer sympathy, can I not?"

He smiled faintly. "I suppose so." Then his smile slowly faded as he seemed to notice her black gown for the first time. "I understand you were wed while I was away. To Wycliff's notorious American cousin."

She felt her throat suddenly tighten. "Geoffrey… I don't know quite what to say. My only excuse is that my father… He was pressing me to marry, and… well, I'm sorry. If I'd had any inkling you might still be alive, I would never have left England with Percy and Jane."

"Mother says you told her your marriage was made under duress."

"That's true. I desperately wanted to avoid marriage to Halford, and my father was adamant…"

"I understand, Aurora. It would be difficult for you to defy your father's wishes. So you married a condemned criminal to escape his choice of husband?"

"Yes. The marriage was expected to last only a day or two at most."

"I understand you were widowed immediately afterward."

Aurora hesitated. This was the moment she had dreaded. How could she tell Geoffrey that her husband hadn't died? That she was still legally wed to another man? That she had just spent the most incredible two weeks of her life indulging her most passionate fantasies with her lover? That she was considering leaving England altogether to be someone else's wife?

She stared at Geoffrey as guilt raked her with razor-sharp claws. She had loved this man for most of her life. He was a dear, dear friend, and he had come close to death. He was injured, still suffering… She couldn't deal him another blow by disclosing the truth so soon after he had just reclaimed his life.

And what of Nicholas? How could she divulge his existence without putting him in danger? She couldn't be certain how Geoffrey would react. If he loved his country so much that he would spy, what would he do upon learning that a convicted pirate was here on English soil, thumbing his nose at the British government? Particularly a pirate who was wed to the woman Geoffrey himself had been engaged to marry?

Exposing Nicholas now could very well mean his death. She had to protect him for as long as possible, until he was safely out of the country. She had to conceal the fact that he was here now, that she had seen him, been with him.

"Geoffrey, there is something I must tell you," she said slowly, knowing she had to walk a fine line between truth and lies. "I have recently received word… Percy wrote to tell me that… my husband escaped hanging. Nicholas Sabine is still alive."

He stared at her a long moment before understanding dawned on his face. "You are still wed to a pirate?"

"So it would seem."

"That cannot be," he responded with unexpected fierceness. When she made no reply, he scowled. "Can the marriage be annulled? There must be adequate grounds."

Aurora regarded Geoffrey quizzically. "Perhaps, but I doubt it would be easy."

"We must make it happen." Grimness had seized his features. "The marriage cannot be allowed to stand. You cannot remain wedded to a criminal."

His reaction wasn't quite what she had expected, but she should have realized Geoffrey would want to protect her.

"You can be assured I will stand by you, Aurora," Geoffrey vowed. "There is certain to be a scandal when the truth comes out, but I will not allow you to face it alone."

She couldn't dispute that a scandal was likely, Aurora reflected.

When she remained silent, Geoffrey searched her face. "Mother expects our marriage to take place shortly, but this complicates matters. But once an annulment is granted… I want you to know, Aurora, if you wish for our marriage to go forward, I… would be honored to be your husband."

She felt a pang of dismay. "Geoffrey, you don't have to make such a sacrifice for my sake."

His expression suddenly grew cool. "Perhaps it would be a sacrifice for you rather than me. It would be understandable if you didn't wish to marry a cripple."

"Geoffrey, don't… Please don't say that. You aren't a cripple."

"But neither am I a whole man."

"Of course you are a whole man. Losing an arm doesn't make you any less the dear person I've always cared for."

His expression remained strangely solemn.

Then suddenly he shut his eyes and raised his hand to his temple, as if in blinding pain. "These headaches…"

"Perhaps you should sit down," she said urgently, putting an arm around his waist.

"Yes." He allowed her to assist him over to a chair and sank down heavily.

"If you don't mind… I would like to rest." He sounded short of breath. "My stamina… fades after a very short time and leaves me weak as a mouse."

"Yes, of course. I will let you be alone. May I fetch you something before I go? A cool compress? Some wine? Laudanum?"

"Thank you, no. Laudanum only fogs my mind more."

"Very well, then…"

Before she could turn away, though, he took her hand in his, gazing up at her with his blue eyes. "I won't desert you, Aurora."

"Thank you, Geoffrey," she barely whispered. "But please… don't worry about this. Just concentrate on getting well. We can settle our future when you are feeling better."

Nodding, he leaned his head back and shut his eyes. With all her heart, Aurora wished there was something more she could do to comfort him.

Leaving the library, she walked slowly down the hall, dimly aware of a sweeping sense of desolation. She couldn't abandon Geoffrey now, she knew. It would be a final betrayal. No matter what her feelings were for Nicholas, she couldn't simply walk away from her childhood friend to start a new life in America with another man. She couldn't hurt Geoffrey that way. She would have to remain in England. She would have to ask Nicholas to seek an annulment…

She was so preoccupied with her bleak thoughts that she didn't hear Harry racing down the stairs until he was almost upon her.

"Rory! Rory!" Ignoring her start, he came to a skidding halt on the checkered tile floor and flung his arms around her joyously. "Can you believe the glad news? Geoffrey is alive! Now you will be my sister and you will live with us and we can ride together every day."

Aurora managed a faint smile, but inside, she was aching. She had thought her choice was difficult before, but now, no matter what her decision, she would hurt one of the two men who claimed to love her.

"You have the Devil's own luck, Nick," Lucian Tremayne, Earl of Wycliff, said with amusement. "When I returned to London three days ago and read your message, saying you were alive and had assumed Brand's identity… well, I don't recall ever receiving a more pleasant shock. I can still scarcely believe my eyes. To think, even the British navy couldn't kill you."

"It was a near thing," Nicholas replied soberly as he stared down into his brandy glass.

"I regret I was out of the country when you arrived in England."

Nick shrugged. "I'll forgive you, Luce, if you'll forgive me for commandeering one of your schooners."

"Don't mention it. You would have done the same for me, had I found myself facing the hangman. We held a memorial service in your honor, were you aware? I invited half the ton and made all my stuffy relatives attend. Solely for appearance's sake, you understand. A public show of support for your widow. Now I'm sorry I went to all that expense for naught."

Hearing the affection in his cousin's jest, Nick glanced up. Lucian was tall and lithely built, with dark, curling hair and lean, aristocratic features that were barely saved from arrogance by a ready half smile. Usually Nicholas enjoyed their male camaraderie. In this instance, however, he was in no mood to match wits with Lucian or endure his cousin's good-natured ribbing.

Setting down his brandy glass, he rose and went to stand at the French window, staring out. By now Aurora would have spoken to her former betrothed. Had she come to any decision? It was possible – even likely – that seeing March again could sway her…

Nicholas clenched his fists as tension raced through his veins like fire. He needed every ounce of control he possessed to clamp down on the turmoil of emotions inside him: jealousy, anger, fear… In agitation, he turned to pace the carpet of his cousin's study once again.

"What is making you so on edge?" Lucian asked finally. "You're acting like a caged tiger. If I had to guess, I would say you are having woman trouble."

"You could say that," Nick answered tersely.

"Your wife, I take it?"

He paused long enough to rake a hand through his hair. "Aurora never wanted our marriage, but now that we're wed… I've asked her to return to America with me. She was leaning in my favor when she learned March had risen from the grave – " He pinned Lucian with a dark glance. "I can't believe you are the one who found March. Whatever made you search for him in the first place? Was he working for you?"

"Not directly, no. He was decoding enemy dispatches for the Foreign Office, but we never crossed paths professionally. I only learned the particulars about his disappearance at sea after I began helping Lady Aurora become established as your widow. Then on my last trip to France, I heard a rumor… Reportedly a fair-haired Englishman had been badly injured in a shipwreck and was in hiding near the coast. It seemed logical to wonder if it could possibly be March, since his body was never found – although I couldn't imagine why he wouldn't come forward. My best guess was that his memory had been impaired, and that turned out to be right. I'm sorry his return has proven such an inconvenience for you."

Nicholas shrugged. "I can't say I would rather you hadn't found him. I don't really wish the man dead."

"But you would prefer he had stayed away for a while longer?"

He smiled grimly. "A few more days would have been enough. A week at most."

Lucian took a sip of brandy as he contemplated his cousin. "She is your wife, Nick. You have the right to demand that she live with you."

"It isn't nearly that simple."

"No? Why not?"

"Because I don't want an unwilling wife. What joy would I find in our union if Aurora found only unhappiness? She saved my life, Luce. How can I repay her kindness by compelling her to live with me? No, the decision has to be hers."

"Your persuasive skills are better than any I've ever seen, including mine. If you want her, why don't you simply convince her that she wants you for her husband?"

"What the devil do you think I've been trying to do for the past month?"

"There is always abduction," Lucian suggested lightly. "That would buy you more time, at least."

"That isn't an option. I would be a fool to resort to physical force. It would only remind Aurora of her bastard of a father."

Pursing his lips, Lucian shook his head in feigned amazement. "What has happened to you, cuz? Did your near brush with death affect your mind? The Nicholas Sabine I know would never have refrained from even drastic action to get what he wanted."

A muscle flexed in Nick's jaw. "This isn't some game to be won, with Aurora the prize. I once thought so, but that was before I knew her."

"I suppose you fell in love."

"Yes. I fell in love," Nicholas said quietly. With a woman whose heart was already taken. His frustration surging anew, he went to stare out the window again.

There was a long silence while Lucian digested that intelligence. "So you will now just let her go?"

"I may have to," Nick replied grimly. "If she loves March and wants to be with him…"

"I can't imagine that you would simply allow her to choose another man over you."

"Laugh if you will, Luce, but her happiness means more to me than my own. I know that's hard for you to grasp, since you've never been in love – "

"I am not laughing, I assure you," Lucian said with surprising solemnity. "I've never had the misfortune of experiencing that malady, but I can understand its effects. To be truthful, I was considering entering the fickle lists of love myself. I've been thinking of taking a wife."

"You? The elusive Lord Wycliff?" Glancing over his shoulder, Nicholas eyed his cousin with skepticism. Lucian was the most sought after bachelor in the country, with the kind of titled wealth and striking good looks that made debutantes swoon. Matchmaking mamas had been laying traps for him for years – and he had avoided them all expertly. "Do I know the lady?"

"No. I haven't chosen her yet."

"But you're prepared to shackle yourself to a bride?"

"It isn't the bride that interests me. I just thought it time I sired myself an heir."

This time Nicholas really did stare.

Lucian grinned his charming half smile. "Don't look as if I've suddenly sprouted antlers. I am not particularly fond of my relatives, other than you and Brandon. If I die, I would like to leave some sort of legacy behind. The thought of having a son – my own flesh and blood – has lately been growing in appeal."

"If you die, Luce?" Nicholas said slowly. "Is there something you haven't told me?"

Lucian's eyes grew hooded. "I had a… fateful experience recently. A glimpse of my own mortality. It's surprising how an incident like that makes you reassess your priorities in life."

"It's not surprising in the least," Nicholas said grimly. "In fact, it's quite common. What happened?"

Lucian remained deep in thought for a moment, as if recalling a dark memory. Nick wasn't certain what his cousin would have replied, for just then the earl's major-domo appeared to announce a visitor. "Lord Clune to see Mr. Deverill, my lord."

Lucian glanced at Nicholas, who nodded. "Show him here, if you please," his lordship commanded.

Lord Clune greeted both men with an affable smile. "Isn't it a bit early for tippling?"

"We are toasting Nick's return from the dead," Lucian replied mildly.

"I will happily drink to that." Clune glanced at the crystal snifter in Lucian's hand. "Your prime stock, I trust?"

"Of course." Lucian gestured toward the decanter on the side table. "Help yourself. So what brings you here, Dare?"

"An interesting encounter at my club," he said, pouring himself a glass. "With an enemy of yours, Nick."

Turning from the window, Nicholas leaned against the frame, giving his friend his full attention. "Which one?"

Clune smiled. "You have so many that you need ask? Captain Richard Gerrod of His Majesty's navy."

Nicholas felt himself scowl.

"Gerrod?" Lucian repeated thoughtfully. "I seem to recall that someone named Gerrod left his card here yesterday when I was out. Do I know him?"

"He is the overeager patriot who captured Nick and sentenced him to hang for piracy. Gerrod is in London, and he is clearly after blood. Your blood, Nick. Reportedly when he learned of your escape from the hangman, he was livid."

"How ill-mannered of me to disappoint him," Nicholas replied sardonically.

"This is hardly the moment for levity," Clune commented coolly. "Gerrod considers you gallows bait and is quite anxious to remedy the mistake that was made in letting you slip away. Actually, he was making inquiries about your American cousin Deverill. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he suspects your impersonation."

"What if he does?"

"Then it makes your situation doubly precarious. I would play least in sight, if I were you. In fact, this might be an excellent time to take yourself back to the Colonies."

"Or it might be a good time to pay the zealous captain a visit."

"You cannot be serious," Clune said with a frown.

A muscle hardened in Nick's jaw, while a grim smile curved his lips.

"Devil take it, I know that look," Lucian observed. "You're spoiling for a fight, Nick – and I cannot blame you. But in this case, I agree with Dare. The odds are too much against you. It would be far wiser to relinquish your desire for retribution and get yourself safely away. There may come a point in the future when you can confront Gerrod, but on your own turf."

"Perhaps." Grimly Nicholas turned back to the window, the tension in his muscles screaming for release. He would indeed relish the exultation of a physical fight and the chance to lock horns again with Gerrod. But his cousin was right, Nick knew. It would be suicidal to act now with the entire British navy against him. There were smarter ways to fight his battle with Gerrod.

It was the battle for Aurora's heart that he didn't dare lose.

Nicholas locked his jaw against the cold wave of dread that swept through him. By rights he should be alarmed by the news of Gerrod's blood quest. But the captain wasn't the cause of the cloying fear in his chest.

What terrified him was Aurora and the choice she intended to make in husbands.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The thought of never again knowing his touch, his fierce caress, is more than I can bear .

Her reflections bleak, Aurora entered her bedchamber to find the lamps had strangely been dimmed. Nicholas. She came to an abrupt halt, her heart leaping as she felt his presence.

"Oh, my lady, 'tis very dark here," her maid said from behind her.

"It's all right, Nell… I have changed my mind. I don't wish to prepare for bed just yet. I think I would prefer to sit quietly for a moment."

"Very well, my lady. Shall I turn up the lamp?"

"No, thank you. Please, seek your own bed. I won't require you this evening."

The maidservant curtsied and withdrew. Carefully bolting the door, Aurora turned around, her eyes searching the dim room. Nicholas sat in the shadows in the far corner, watching her.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, wondering for the thousandth time how she would ever tell him of her decision.

"So you spoke to him," he said finally, breaking the tense silence.

Slowly she nodded, struggling against the flood of tightness that closed around her throat. "Yes. Geoffrey still wants me for his wife."

For the span of several heartbeats, Nicholas made no reply. He simply watched her, his eyes dark and intense.

"I can't leave him, Nicholas. He has been hurt enough."

His voice was low and flat when he ventured to speak. "You want to sever our marriage."

"I… I have no choice. I cannot hurt him more than he has already been hurt. He has lost his arm, Nicholas. Can you imagine what it would be like to suffer such a fate? Geoffrey needs me to stand by him."

Time pulsed between them, dark and endless.

"What about your needs, Aurora?" Nicholas asked at last. "What of mine?"

Aurora shook her head. "My needs can't be allowed to matter. As for yours… You are far stronger than Geoffrey is."

Nicholas gave a mirthless laugh.

"I have known Geoffrey all my life, Nicholas," she said pleadingly, trying to make him understand. "He is part of my past… part of me…"

"And you love him." The words were stark, bleak.

She lowered her gaze. "I cannot abandon him. Can you not see that?"

"I see that you're trying to protect him. You're set on protecting everyone but yourself."

Hearing the sudden harshness of his tone, Aurora wrapped her arms around herself, as if to defend herself against his recriminations.

After a moment Nicholas drew a slow breath. "What do you want me to do?"

"I… I want you to try and seek an annulment."

He was silent and completely still. She moved closer, searching his expression in the shadows. He stared back at her, his face torn with a raw and agonizing emotion that mirrored her own.

"Very well," he said finally. "I'll try."

"You will try?"

"To have our marriage annulled. So you can be free to wed your true love."

She had expected fierce resistance, not this quiet resignation. Perhaps he didn't love her as much as he'd claimed. Despair coursed through Aurora at the thought.

"You will forget me in time, Nicholas," she said, aching. "You will find someone who can be the wife you want."

"You think so?"

He lunged to his feet suddenly, no longer resigned. Covering the short distance between them, he reached for her, his hands closing on her shoulders. His velvet grasp was inescapable as he held her in a soft, dangerous embrace. "You think I could ever forget you, sweetheart? That I could forget what we shared?"

"It was just passion…"

"No. It was far more." His eyes blazed. "I love you, Aurora. Understand that. Taste it, breathe it…"

Without warning his mouth came down on hers. His kiss was fierce, demanding, harsh, as if to punish her. She was struggling for breath before he finally ended it.

When he drew back, the dark hunger in his eyes held a power and starkness that both frightened and compelled her.

She read the intent there, even before he swung her into his arms and carried her to the bed, letting her down none too gently.

Aurora tried to sit up but found herself pinned by his strong body. "Nicholas… we can't do this."

"We can." His whisper was wild and low. "You need to remember what you are giving up."

Flattening his hand alongside her head, he held himself above her, staring down. His eyes were ablaze with angry fire, consuming fire. The gentleness she knew in him was gone.

"Can your precious Geoffrey make you feel what I do?" he demanded. Deliberately he reached beneath her skirts and swept his palm along her bare thigh. "Can he set your blood on fire with just a touch? Can he make your nipples tighten, your skin flush? Can he make you grow wet… like this…?"

He found the center of her desire, hot and throbbing.

When he slid his finger into her, she gasped, straining against him.

It was all the invitation Nicholas needed. His eyes were fierce, naked in intent, as he fumbled with the buttons of his breeches.

"Nicholas…"

He kissed her again, to silence her protest. He had to make her feel the desire raking through his body, his fierce need.

He couldn't have anticipated the explosion of passion he unleashed from her. She gripped his head, her hands clutching his hair as she tried to draw his mouth closer, his tongue deeper.

When she frantically welcomed his devouring kiss, he shoved her skirts to her waist and moved over her. He could feel the pulse of fire lash through her as he sank into her, hard, deep, claiming her in a savage stroke of hunger.

It was like sliding into fire. She arched wildly beneath him and moaned into his mouth, a panicky, anguished sound of need. A sound that would haunt him forever.

Shuddering, he drove into her, feverish with intensity. She came almost at once, convulsing in his arms with a wild cry. Aurora sobbed his name as with one last strong plunge the peak burst on him, helplessly, savagely.

In the heated aftermath, the tortured sounds of their breathing filled the quiet room. Nicholas lay buried inside her, wondering if she could feel the desperation pulsing in hot waves through his body. He pressed his face into her shoulder, fighting the wildness inside him, the violent yearning.

Finally he lifted his head. "Don't do this, Aurora," he whispered, his voice raw and cracked.

Stirring, she opened her eyes to gaze back at him in agony. "I… have no choice."

He could see the torment in her eyes. She truly believed she was making the right decision. And perhaps she was.

He looked at her, aching and empty. He had lost.

Nicholas closed his eyes on the anguish and helplessness inside him. A man couldn't force love. He couldn't command a heart's surrender by sheer force of will.

Not trusting himself to speak, he rose from the bed and adjusted his clothing.

Grieving, Aurora remained totally still. Nicholas's vulnerability was infinitely more powerful than his anger. There was such bleakness in his face, she wanted to weep.

She sat up slowly, drawing her skirts down over her naked limbs. She was trembling.

"Nicholas… I am sorry," she whispered.

His dark eyes met hers. "I know."

Reaching for her, he cupped her face in his palms. He stood looking down at her for a long moment before slowly bending. When his lips brushed hers, heartbreakingly gentle, anguish clawed inside her.

Then he stepped back and drew a shuddering breath, as if fighting for control. His voice had no inflection when he spoke. "I intend to sail with the tide tomorrow night. If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

He turned and went to the window. A moment later, the shadows covered him and there was silence.

Aurora pressed her knuckles to her mouth and bit down hard. The pain was so raw, she felt as if a knife had sliced through her heart.

He was truly gone. She had sent him away.

Aurora covered her face with her hands and wept.

Chapter Twenty-Four

It is true that passion of the flesh can beget passion of the heart. I am living proof.

Aurora stared blindly at Lady March's supper invitation. The countess begged Aurora to attend their private family gathering that evening, although it would entail bending the strict rules of mourning. She would be performing an act of Christian mercy, Lady March wrote, to help ease Geoffrey's reentry into society.

It would also permit them to show their support for Aurora during this trying period in her life, until her sham of a marriage was dissolved. Apparently the countess still wanted Aurora as her daughter.

Numbly Aurora set down the invitation and glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantel. Seven o'clock. The engagement was for eight. She should bestir herself to dress, and yet she didn't know if she could bear to see Geoffrey and his mother this evening. If she could find the willpower to feign a cheerful facade when her heart was breaking. In a few hours Nicholas would set sail without her.

A fresh wave of bleakness washed over her, leaving her cold, empty.

Despairing, she picked up the journal and turned to a well-worn page – the death of Desiree's prince.

My tears fall on your pale face as the lifeblood drains from your once powerful body. In desperation, I kiss your waxen lips, willing you to live. But my efforts are futile. Hopeless.

You open your eyes, your dark gaze so full of pain and tenderness. No tears, you whisper hoarsely. Your tears are torment.

But what of my torment? My heart is ripping from my chest. Dear God, I cannot bear it.

Your trembling hand, so weak now, rises to caress my face. Be free, my beautiful Desiree.

With your last breath, you give me the freedom I yearned for. But merciful heaven, that price is far, far too dear…

Aurora swallowed the burning ache of her own tears. Desiree had realized too late that freedom was nothing compared to love -

A quiet rap on her bedchamber door interrupted her dark thoughts.

"Miss Kendrick has called again," Danby informed her through the door.

"Please tell her I am indisposed," Aurora responded, closing the journal. She could not face Raven just now.

A few moments later, the knock was repeated, only this time much louder.

"Aurora?" Raven called out urgently. "I must speak with you."

With a resigned sigh, Aurora bid entrance. It would take more stamina than she possessed just now to fight Raven's determined assault.

Entering the bedchamber, the younger woman shut the door behind her and stood for a moment. Aurora was sitting before the empty hearth, feeling as cold as a winter's day, even though the July evening was quite pleasant.

"Are you really unwell," Raven asked, "or are you merely avoiding me because you know what I will say?"

"I have the headache," Aurora replied, not quite a lie. "But yes" – she smiled faintly – "I would rather avoid this conversation."

Undeterred, Raven moved across the room to stand directly before Aurora. "Nicholas is leaving tonight, do you realize that?"

"Yes, I know."

"And you just mean to let him go?"

"Raven… it is for the best. England is my home. I belong here. And I must stay for Geoffrey's sake."

"My brother said that you mean to have your marriage annulled so you can wed Lord March. Is that true?"

"Yes."

Raven's blue eyes narrowed unhappily. "You are making a grave mistake, Aurora. You should go with Nicholas. He loves you."

"I… I'm not certain what Nicholas feels is love."

"I think it is." Raven fished in her reticule and withdrew a folded piece of vellum. "He asked me to give you this."

Opening the note, Aurora read feverishly.

Aurora, I realize you feel you must honor your obligation to March, but I cannot relinquish you to him without making certain you understand my true feelings. Last night you said I would forget you in time. I won't.

It is curious. I never understood my father, how a man could be so obsessed with a woman, letting his heart overcome his head. Certainly I never believed it could happen to me. I never wanted to find a love like that – a heart-deep passion. The kind that overwhelms you and makes you lose control. But I had no choice. Not once I met you.

I realize now that what my father believed was true. When you find your true mate, then second best isn't enough.

You are my heart, Aurora. You always will be.

Aurora felt her own heart twist in her chest. Nicholas truly loved her, she could doubt it no longer. He could never have made such a tender, intimate confession merely to win a conquest.

"Nicholas loves you, Aurora," Raven said with quiet fervency. "He has risked his life to be with you. What more proof do you need?"

It was true; Nicholas had risked capture and death to pursue her.

Gathering her control, Aurora clasped her hands together. "I cannot leave Geoffrey, Raven. He needs me to stand by him. He is too badly injured to face the future alone."

"He is not alone. He has family, friends, not to mention wealth and title – Oh, how I wish I could make you stop worrying about everyone but yourself." Raven gave her a beseeching look. "I cannot believe you would simply throw away this chance for true love."

Aurora winced at the unwavering intensity of her friend's gaze. "I thought you were the one who didn't believe in love."

"I believe in it. I just don't want it for myself. But you and Nicholas are different. You were meant for each other; even I can see that."

"Geoffrey is not the only reason I intend to remain, Raven. I have other responsibilities… to you, for one. I made a promise to see you safely settled."

"Which you have done admirably," Raven insisted. Taking a deep breath, she sat down in the other wing chair before the hearth. "You need not worry about me, Aurora. I didn't want to tell you yet, but… I have received an extremely advantageous proposal of marriage."

Aurora stared. "From whom?"

"The Duke of Halford. I am considering accepting."

"You cannot be serious."

"I knew you would not approve. But this should be my decision, Aurora. I am the one who must live with the consequences."

Aurora felt herself shudder. "Raven, you cannot wed Halford. He is controlling and dictatorial and cold – "

"He is not as bad as you think, not once you come to know him. He is reserved, true, and certainly a bit arrogant. And he likes having his way. But what lord does not? I believe I can manage him."

Reaching out earnestly, Aurora took her hand. "Raven, I understand this desire of yours to marry a title – you feel you must fulfill your mother's wishes. But I cannot help believing you would be far happier if you were to marry for love."

Just as earnestly, Raven leaned forward. "Do you love Lord March?"

"Yes, of course I do. I have loved him all my life."

"And do you love Nicholas?"

Aurora looked away, not wanting to face the answer to that question. Her love for Geoffrey had been sweet and tender, not this anguished yearning. What she felt for Nicholas was so complex… so disturbing… so painful…

"I know I am not experienced in matters of the heart," Raven said, "but I can't believe you are indifferent to my brother. I've seen the way you look at him. If that isn't love, then what is it?"

Passion, Aurora wanted to reply – yet even as she had the thought, Desiree's observation in the journal came back to her with poignant force. Passion of the flesh can beget passion of the heart. I am living proof…

Passion could lead to love, Aurora acknowledged despairingly. It had happened to Desiree. It had happened to her as well.

The ache in her heart welled up to clutch at her throat. She had trouble speaking when she replied, "Whatever I feel for Nicholas cannot be allowed to matter."

Impatiently Raven rose from her chair and began to pace the room. "What does Lord March think of all this? Does the man have no heart? How could he demand such a sacrifice from you?"

"He doesn't know about my relationship with Nicholas. Yesterday I told him only that I'd heard my husband was still alive."

Turning, Raven stared. "He doesn't know Nick is here in England?"

"I… I couldn't tell him. I couldn't deliver that kind of blow. And I was afraid of exposing Nicholas. I thought it better to wait until he was safely away."

"Forgive me for such bluntness, Aurora, but the Earl of March may not want a wife who has had a marriage annulled. He may not want to bring such a stain to his family name."

"Geoffrey isn't concerned about his family consequence. He's only determined to shield me from scandal. He is the one who proposed helping me gain an annulment. He wants me to have the protection of his name once I sever my marriage to a criminal."

"But if you tell him how you feel, that Nicholas is no criminal…"

Aurora squeezed her eyes shut, struggling against the rising anguish inside her. She couldn't tell Geoffrey that she loved another man. She couldn't hurt him that way. If he desired her for his wife, then she had no choice but to honor his wishes. She owed him that much loyalty.

"Shouldn't he be allowed to decide for himself?" Raven asked. "You should tell him the truth, Aurora. At least about your relationship with Nicholas. It would be unfair not to. And it could make all the difference."

"I cannot tell him anything," Aurora whispered. "Not until Nicholas is gone."

"But by then it may be too late! Aurora, don't you see – "

Another polite rap sounded on the door, causing Raven to break off her impassioned plea.

When wearily Aurora bid entrance, the door opened a crack to reveal Danby's grave face. "There is a gentleman to see you, my lady. A Captain Richard Gerrod. He says it is urgent that he speak to you about your husband."

Aurora felt the color drain from her face. Dear God.

Captain Gerrod was the naval officer who had apprehended Nicholas in the Caribbean. By now he would know his former prisoner was still alive. Did he realize Nicholas was in England? But why else would Gerrod have come to call on her if not to seek out Nicholas?

For the space of a dozen heartbeats, Aurora could not make a sound. It was left to Raven to answer Danby.

"Please tell the captain her ladyship will be down in a moment."

"As you wish," the elderly butler responded before withdrawing.

Still in shock, Aurora turned to stare at Raven. The younger woman looked pale and only marginally more composed than Aurora herself felt.

"You must speak to him, Aurora. Pretend to be taken completely by surprise when you learn your husband is still alive."

"How do you even know who Gerrod is?" Aurora asked in bewilderment.

"Nicholas warned me this morning when he came to say farewell."

"Nicholas warned you?"

"He knows Gerrod is searching for him. Why else would he consider it imperative to sail this evening?"

Aurora raised a hand to her temple. Last night when Nicholas had made love to her, he'd known he was in mortal danger, and yet he hadn't even hinted at it. Damn him…

"He never said a word," she murmured, torn between fear and anger at his keeping such a revelation to himself.

"Possibly because he didn't want you to worry," Raven said quickly. "I suspect he wanted you to make the decision whether to accompany him without any further duress."

Duress? Fear suddenly winning out over anger, Aurora rose to her feet. "I have to warn Nicholas – "

"No!" Raven objected. "I tell you, he already knows he is being pursued. If you want to protect him, you would do better to try to throw Gerrod off the scent. We should devise a plan, Aurora."

Aurora drew a shuddering breath, trying to gain control of her panic. Raven was right. If she wished to help Nicholas, she would have to fool the captain into believing she knew nothing about her husband's whereabouts.

Her blood had turned to ice in her veins by the time Aurora descended the stairs to the parlor where Gerrod awaited her.

"Captain," she said coldly, pausing in the doorway. "I am amazed that you have the gall to call upon me after what you did. I trust you have a good reason for being here?"

His expression was stern to the point of grimness as he searched her face. "I am seeking your husband, my lady."

"My husband is dead, sir," Aurora retorted frigidly, "as you very well know. You were the one who sent him to his death."

"Then you have not heard the news?" Gerrod asked skeptically.

"What news?"

"Nicholas Sabine is still very much alive."

Aurora stared at him, then carefully schooled her features to scorn. "Your jest is in exceedingly poor taste."

"It is no jest, my lady. The pirate, Captain Saber, made a bold escape while being transported to Barbados for execution."

"Why in heaven's name should I believe such a wild tale? You expect me simply to accept your word for it? The man who arrested my husband and ordered his execution?"

"I did not imagine you would require proof, my lady," the captain said stiffly. "I felt sure Sabine had visited you before now."

"I assure you he has not."

Gerrod scowled. "I have good reason to believe he is masquerading as his cousin, Mr. Brandon Deverill. And word is, you have been seen with Deverill."

"I don't deny my acquaintance with Mr. Deverill, Captain, but I think I would know my own husband," Aurora said with sarcasm.

"Perhaps he has fooled you."

"And perhaps you are the one who has been fooled."

When Gerrod clenched his jaw in frustration and anger, Aurora adopted a more conciliatory tone. "Even if my husband were alive – which I don't believe – whatever makes you think he would come here to England? His home is… was…in Virginia."

"If I had so lovely a wife, I would not hesitate to seek her out."

"If so, then surely he would have approached me before now. But he has not."

"You are absolutely certain?" Gerrod asked, staring at her.

"Captain…" she said, thinking furiously. "I am engaged to wed the Earl of March – even though no announcement will be made until my period of mourning is over. Do you actually think I would have entered into such an agreement if I still believed myself to be wed to another man?"

For the first time, the captain's expression showed serious doubt. But then he shook his head. "I think, my lady, that you are intent on protecting your husband."

Aurora let her features grow deliberately chill. "And I think you have convinced yourself of this fantasy out of vengeance or spite, I'm not sure which."

Gerrod's scowl returned. "If the man I seek truly is Deverill and not Sabine, then he can have nothing to fear from me."

She drew a measured breath, as if she were considering whether or not to help him. "It is my understanding Mr. Deverill left London a fortnight or so ago on a journey to Somerset… or was it Berkshire? Perhaps you should begin your search there."

His hard gaze held hers. "No doubt," Gerrod replied with renewed snideness, "you would be happy to send me on such a fool's errand. No, my lady, I believe you know of Sabine's whereabouts."

"Are you accusing me of lying, Captain Gerrod?" Aurora raised her chin regally. "You are offensive, sir. I must ask you to leave."

"Very well," Gerrod bit out. "But I will not give up. I will find Nicholas Sabine and bring him to justice."

Jamming his hat on his head, he brushed past her, heading for the front entrance. Aurora remained tensely silent until he was gone. Then she let out a shuddering sigh. She hoped her lies had convinced him, but she seriously doubted it.

Turning to pace the floor, she swore under her breath. There had to be something she could do to protect Nicholas. She couldn't bear just to remain idle, deploring her helplessness.

Sweet mercy, perhaps she should have concocted a better tale. Perhaps she hadn't been wise to claim she was betrothed to Lord March. She would have to persuade Geoffrey to go along with the pretense if Captain Gerrod asked…

Geoffrey! Aurora froze where she stood. He knew nothing about Nicholas being in England. Word would reach him, and then he would realize she hadn't told him the truth. He would feel hurt and betrayed…

No, the revelation had to come from her, Aurora knew. She had to tell him herself. She owed him that.

Urgently she turned to summon her butler. But it wasn't Geoffrey she was thinking of when she asked Danby to order her carriage.

Please, Nicholas, she pleaded silently. Please get away safely. She couldn't bear it if Nicholas died, for a part of her would die with him.

Chapter Twenty-five

The heart will know its one true mate .

She found Lord March and his mother awaiting her arrival. Both rose to greet Aurora when she entered the elegant drawing room, and both registered surprise to see her muslin day gown and spencer. It was obvious from her attire that she did not intend to take supper with them.

"Is something amiss, my dear?" the countess asked with a worried frown.

Indeed there was something greatly amiss, Aurora thought dismally. She should be feeling joy to see the man with whom she intended to spend the rest of her life. Not this terrible hollowness.

"Forgive me, Lady March," Aurora replied, evading the question, "but I must speak to Geoffrey for a moment. Alone, if I may."

"Yes… of course," the countess said, puzzled. "I will just go fetch a wrap. I confess I was feeling a chill." She withdrew quietly, leaving Aurora alone with Geoffrey.

She saw the surprise in his eyes, but as always he acted the gentleman, offering her a seat without immediately pressing her for an explanation.

She was too agitated to sit, though. Her heart aching, she turned to pace the room.

Geoffrey was watching her, she realized, his brows drawn together with concern. "What is wrong, Aurora? You are obviously distressed."

Stiffening her shoulders as if preparing for a blow, she forced herself to turn and face him. "I… I fear I haven't been completely truthful, Geoffrey. There is something I failed to tell you."

"What is it, my dear?"

Her eyes burned. How could she bear to hurt this man? How could she not? She couldn't marry him. Not when she loved Nicholas so desperately…

She had been fooling herself all along. The signs had been so obvious: the joy she felt in Nicholas's presence, her grief at having to part, her terror at the possibility of him dying…

Tonight, with the danger he faced, she had finally been forced to acknowledge the truth. She couldn't lose Nicholas. Even if he died tomorrow, she wanted to be with him for as long as she could.

"Aurora?" Geoffrey prodded when she stood silently.

With effort, she swallowed the ache in her throat. She had no choice. She couldn't let Nicholas go.

"You are bound to hear the truth," she began finally, "but I wanted it to come from me."

"Aurora, please," he said gently, "I hope you will end my suspense."

She nodded, taking a steadying breath. "I told you yesterday that my husband was alive, but… there is more. Nicholas Sabine is here, Geoffrey. In England."

There was a long silence while Geoffrey digested that intelligence. "Your husband is here?" he said slowly.

"Yes. He has been here these past six weeks."

"So long?"

She couldn't read the expression in Geoffrey's blue eyes. Shock? Dismay? Anger?

Despite her vow to control her emotions, Aurora found herself clenching her hands. "Geoffrey, I… I have been with him."

"He forced himself on you?" Definite anger laced his tone as his eyebrows snapped together in a scowl.

"No. He never forced me. I… welcomed him."

"I see." Geoffrey raised a hand to his temple. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

"Yes… no, of course I don't mind…" Aurora took an agitated step toward him. "It was thoughtless of me to keep you standing."

He sank slowly onto the settee. "Why did you not tell me yesterday?" he finally asked.

"I couldn't. I didn't want to hurt you so shortly after you had returned home. I did mean to tell you… soon," Aurora finished lamely.

Compelling herself to meet his gaze, she came to sit beside him. "I hoped to give you time to adjust to being home before you had to learn of it, but… well… there have been complications. The British navy is searching for Nicholas. They came to me a short while ago, demanding to know his whereabouts."

Geoffrey still seemed to be considering the ramifications of her earlier disclosure. "Yesterday you led me to believe you wanted the marriage annulled."

"I thought I did." She took another shaky breath. "After you returned, I asked Nicholas to have our marriage annulled, and he agreed."

"You asked him to sever the marriage?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why?" She searched Geoffrey's face. His blue eyes were solemn, penetrating.

"I am curious about your reasoning," he said slowly. "Whether you meant to end it for my sake, or because that is what you truly wanted."

Aurora looked down at her clasped hands, struggling to hide the despair welling in her eyes.

"You love him, don't you." It was not a question.

She felt her eyes blurring as she nodded. For weeks now she had fought admitting her love. She had thought she could save herself from heartbreak by pushing Nicholas away. But she knew now that her heart would break if she lost him.

"Yes, I love him." The hot tears behind her burning eyes finally spilled over. "Geoffrey, I am so sorry."

"Aurora… don't cry, please…"

Mutely she shook her head, torn at having to choose between loyalty and love. She had wanted to honor her pledge to marry Geoffrey, yet she knew she couldn't go through with it. She couldn't share her life with this man, no matter how much she cared for him. Not when her heart belonged so completely to Nicholas.

As she fought against her tears, Geoffrey sighed. "What a tangle fate has made of our lives," he murmured, his tone filled with irony. "Aurora… look at me, please…"

With a forefinger, he lifted her chin. "There is no reason for you to end your marriage." His smile was bittersweet. "I am honored you were prepared to sacrifice your future for me, my dear, but I couldn't let you make such a noble gesture. It wouldn't be fair to you, or to me, either. You would be miserable, and I would not be happy, knowing that you have feelings for another man. I want no ghosts in my marriage bed."

She swallowed convulsively, her heart twisting with hurt for him. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"Yes, of course I can forgive you, Aurora. We cannot choose whom we love."

"I do love you, Geoffrey. Just not the way you deserve." She forced herself to meet his gentle eyes. "You deserve true love, Geoffrey. Our betrothal… was always based more on friendship than love, on expedience rather than emotion. We never felt real passion for each other. Not the overpowering kind that starts wars and crumbles empires."

When Geoffrey took her hand, she wiped fiercely at her eyes, trying to regain control of her emotions. To her surprise, though, he no longer seemed troubled.

"I understand what you are trying to say, Aurora. True love is a fire in the heart. It is a joyous, wondrous feeling. A magnificent agony. It's being unable to eat or think or even breathe unless the object of your affection is near. It is not feeling whole without her…"

Taken aback by his quiet admission, Aurora stared at him, wondering how he could describe her own feelings so eloquently. "You sound… as if you speak from experience."

He smiled faintly. "I do. I am afraid I haven't been entirely truthful either, my dear. While I was in France, I fell in love."

Aurora's lips parted, but she remained speechless.

"There was a girl – a young lady – on the farm where I was nursed back to health. Her family was in hiding – aristos who survived the Terror. The eldest daughter… she was so kind, Aurora. I couldn't help loving her."

"Why did you not tell me?"

"For the same reason you didn't tell me about your change of heart. I didn't wish to hurt you. Moreover, as a gentleman, I could not be the one to end our betrothal. It would not have been at all honorable."

Slowly her mouth curved with a misty smile as she felt dawning joy well inside her. "So we were both trying to be noble."

"Evidently. I confess relief to learn that you have given your heart to someone else. It means I can ask Simone to be my wife. Here, dry your eyes so I won't feel quite so much guilt."

Her quiet laughter was muffled by the lawn handkerchief he handed her. Geoffrey's expression, however, remained solemn as she wiped away the dampness on her cheeks.

"If this past year has taught me anything at all, Aurora, it is that no one's future is certain. If you are ever fortunate enough to find true love, you shouldn't risk letting it slip away."

She nodded in fervent agreement, even while chastising herself for coming to that realization so belatedly. If Nicholas died tomorrow, she would be devastated, yet she would rather have even a moment's blazing happiness with him than a lifetime of the dull, gray existence she'd known before coming to love him.

She had never told him of her love. Like Desiree with her prince, she had never disclosed her true feelings until – Sweet heaven, she hoped she was not too late. Aurora drew a sharp breath as her heart experienced a jolt.

"What is it?" Geoffrey asked.

For a moment she hesitated, wondering if she could risk telling Geoffrey what she meant to do. But he had been willing to sacrifice his love for her, possibly mire his family name in scandal just to stand by her, because he wanted her happiness. She could trust him. He wouldn't harm the man she loved. "Nicholas is leaving tonight for America."

"And you want to go with him?"

She searched his face. "I have to, Geoffrey. Can you understand?"

"Yes, my dear." The answer was soft as his lips touched her brow. "I do understand. And if it means anything, you have my full blessing."

"It means a great deal to me." Softly she smiled her thanks, but then her smile faded as a fresh urgency gripped her. "I only hope I am not too late. Nicholas meant to sail for the Caribbean at high tide."

"Then you have another hour or more. High tide will not come until close to ten o'clock. But you haven't much time to pack. You should go."

"Yes." She rose abruptly, her thoughts spinning feverishly as she tried to plan. She would return home long enough to gather some clothing and a few necessities for the weeks she would be at sea – Aurora stopped suddenly, remembering another obligation. "I should say farewell to Harry first and explain why I am leaving… although perhaps he won't mind excessively. He idolizes Nicholas."

"Harry is acquainted with him?" Geoffrey asked, puzzled.

Aurora returned an uncertain glance. "Nicholas has been posing as his American cousin, Brandon Deverill."

"Ah, Deverill," Geoffrey said wryly. "I heard an earful about the fellow when Harry recounted tales of his London excursion. My brother does indeed idolize him."

"Your mother won't be as forgiving, I imagine."

"Only because she doesn't yet know about my Simone. Once I tell her, she'll be more amenable to losing you. If you like," Geoffrey offered, "I shall escort you to your house and then to the docks. I take it that is where your Nicholas can be found?"

"Yes, but you needn't put yourself to such trouble."

"It is no trouble. And I confess I should like to meet the man who won your heart."

Aurora turned to go, her mind whirling with anticipation and anxiety. What if Nicholas had already sailed?

Then she would simply follow, a determined voice replied in her head. If he left without her, then she would hire a ship to take her to America. She would not let Nicholas get away.

He owned her heart and nothing else mattered.

Almost an hour had passed before Aurora found herself nearing the docks, feverishly searching for Nicholas's schooner, the Talon. The mist rising off the Thames obscured most of the ships alongside the wharf, but she remembered the general location from her last visit, and then she spied one vessel among the skeletal masts whose ghostly white sails had been raised.

The gangway was still in place for boarding, she saw with relief, although the crew was scurrying about, setting rigging and securing lines in preparation for casting off.

Geoffrey had some difficulty negotiating the gangway and winced when he stepped down onto the deck on his bad leg. They were immediately challenged by a seaman, who directed them to the captain. The captain, in turn, led them to the same cabin where Aurora had made love to Nicholas what seemed like a lifetime ago.

The cabin door was open, but at first she didn't see Nicholas. The man lounging on the bunk was his cousin, Lucian Tremayne, Lord Wycliff, while the nobleman sprawled elegantly in a wooden chair was Lord Clune.

Nicholas stood with his back to her, staring out the porthole window at the dark night. Aurora felt her heart wrench with love. Thank God she wasn't too late.

"Sir, you have visitors," the captain announced before making a polite bow and withdrawing.

She saw Nicholas go totally still, but the other two gentlemen rose to their feet.

"I do believe I've won our wager after all," Clune said in an amused drawl.

"So you have, Dare," Lucian replied. "But this is one wager I don't mind losing. Welcome, my lady. We were just bidding our American friend farewell."

Nicholas turned slowly, as if not daring to let himself hope. His gaze riveted on her face, his eyes dark and intense as he searched hers.

Aurora took a step inside the small cabin and halted, suddenly at a loss for words. How could she say all the things she wanted, needed, to say to Nicholas in front of an audience?

When she remained mute, his gaze dropped to her traveling suit, then moved beyond her to Geoffrey. Nicholas froze, his expression turning bleak.

"So you have come to say good-bye," he said tonelessly.

"No," she replied, her own voice hoarse.

Geoffrey intervened then.

"I don't believe we have met," he said, entering the cabin and taking a step past Aurora. "I am March." He offered his good arm to shake hands, but Nicholas made no attempt to accept.

"I understand why you would not welcome me," Geoffrey remarked lightly, not taking offense. "But you needn't be concerned. I am not your rival any longer. Aurora and I have reached an understanding."

"An understanding?" Nicholas replied warily, his face still shuttered.

"Yes. I believe your wife has something to tell you."

His gaze shifted again to Aurora, intense, questioning.

"I am not here to say good-bye," she said, returning his gaze steadily. "I am going with you."

For an instant she saw a blazing flash of what might be joy. Then suddenly his expression darkened with anger. He was looking beyond her at the doorway, Aurora realized.

Behind her she heard a voice she dreaded. "So, I wasn't wrong," Captain Gerrod said tersely. "You are Nicholas Sabine after all."

Her heart faltering, Aurora glanced over her shoulder. Gerrod stood in the doorway, a deadly pistol trained directly at Nicholas's heart.

Chapter Twenty-six

Only now do I understand: Bonds of love are stronger than the mightiest chains. There is no escaping.

As he stared at the deadly pistol, Nick felt a jolt of emotion stab at his heart – not fear but fury. No way in blazes would he allow Gerrod to take him prisoner. Not now, when he could dare hope that heaven was within his grasp.

His fingers clenched around the crystal snifter in his hand. With his friends earlier tonight, he'd plowed halfway through a consoling bottle of brandy in an attempt to drown his sorrows, even knowing no amount of spirits could numb the pain of losing Aurora. But he'd sobered abruptly when she appeared like an angel sprung from his fevered imagination.

Then Gerrod had shown himself, evidently having followed her to the docks. Unless perhaps March had somehow arranged it in order to eliminate his chief rival…? But this was no time to worry about how Gerrod had found him.

The captain pushed his way into the cabin, brushing past both Aurora and March. "In the name of the Crown," he intoned with no little satisfaction, "I am placing you under arrest, Sabine."

Nick's eyes narrowed as he measured the distance to the pistol. He could perhaps wrest the weapon away from Gerrod, but a struggle might well endanger Aurora. Was there a way other than physical violence? He wasn't certain he could count on his friends' intervention. They were British citizens, after all, and it would be treasonous to interfere with a naval officer in the execution of his duty. This was his fight, in any case.

When Nicholas remained silent, Gerrod took another step toward him. "What do you have to say for yourself, Saber?"

Nick smiled. "I say get the hell off my ship, Captain."

Gerrod scowled. "I have every right to apprehend you. You will accompany me – "

"Or what? You will shoot me in cold blood?"

"If you force me to. But I would rather see you dancing on the end of a rope. There are a half dozen of my men waiting on the dock to escort you to Newgate prison, where your sentence will be carried out."

Casually, without appearing to move, Nicholas balanced on the balls of his feet, preparing to spring. Just then, however, his cousin spoke up.

"It seems you are overzealous in your commitment to duty, Captain," Lucian remarked calmly. "You have mistaken this man's identity. I am fully prepared to vouch for Mr. Deverill."

"As am I," Dare added in an amused drawl.

"So you see, Captain, it will be your word against that of two peers of the realm."

"Three peers," Geoffrey said quietly.

Nick's gaze shot to March. The man was willing to risk his honor for a stranger? If so, it clearly was for Aurora's sake. But of course March would be under her spell. If he loved her, he would want her happiness above his own.

Nicholas felt another rush of searing emotions – including sympathy for his rival. He knew the agony of losing Aurora.

"You have my sincerest thanks, Lord March," Nicholas said solemnly.

"You must admit," Dare suggested to the captain, "those odds will be hard to beat."

Anger crossed Gerrod's features as he looked from one to the other of the lords. "You would lie to protect this… pirate? It is treason to abet a criminal."

"That is where you are wrong," Lucian replied. "This man is no criminal. He is an American royalist who has been granted sanctuary on British soil. And you, Captain, are acting illegally in trying to apprehend him."

Gerrod's fury only escalated, and he raised the pistol higher, waving it at Nick. Out of the corner of his eye, Nicholas saw Aurora move, but he didn't dare take his attention from the weapon.

"By God," the captain vowed, "you will not escape this time – " His tirade was cut off in midstream by a dull thud. A dazed look claimed his expression before he slowly slumped to the ground.

Nicholas felt his heart lodge in his throat. Aurora stood over the captain's prone form, clutching a half-full brandy bottle in her hand. She had struck Gerrod over the head, Nick realized.

Her bold action had startled his friends as much as himself. They were staring at her with varying degrees of amazement.

Aurora clenched her jaw, looking calm but pale. "Did I… Is he dead?"

Nicholas bent over to relieve Gerrod of the pistol and pressed two fingers to the man's neck pulse. "No, just stunned."

His gaze lifted to Aurora. "Once again you surprise me, angel."

"You said sometimes violence was warranted," she declared, her tone defiant. "I considered this to be one of those times. He meant to shoot you."

"He did indeed." Rising to his feet, Nicholas handed the pistol to Dare, then went to Aurora. Taking the bottle from her, he set it and his glass on the nearby table and enfolded her in his arms.

"I couldn't let him hurt you," she said fiercely, gazing up at him.

"I am very glad, sweetheart," he returned with a smile.

Just then Gerrod stirred, although he didn't wake.

"Much as I regret having to interrupt you lovers, er… Brandon," Dare drawled, "I believe we should decide what to do with our overeager friend."

"We should fetch some line to tie him," Lucian said. "I doubt he will be amenable otherwise."

"Tie him?" Dare asked, amused. "Your ingenuity amazes me."

Lucian flashed his wry half smile. "You might be surprised at the resourcefulness a man can develop when the stakes are high enough."

Releasing Aurora with reluctance, Nicholas turned to rummage in a locker and came back with a length of rope and a knife. His cousin did the honors, kneeling down to bind Gerrod's hands.

"I suppose you have a plan, Luce?" Dare remarked as Wycliff worked.

"I'll take him away and keep him hidden until our friend Brandon sails."

"What about his men?" March asked.

"I will simply order them to return to their posts. I doubt they will challenge me, especially if their captain is wearing a gag and cannot countermand me."

"Gerrod will be livid that you interfered with his duty."

"What of it? I am not about to let him deliver Nick to the hangman's noose."

"It may not come to hanging," Dare mused aloud. "Not if Nick petitions the Prince Regent for a pardon."

"Just what did you have in mind?" Nicholas asked with extreme interest.

"Buying a pardon. Pirate or not, you could no doubt convince Prinny of your innocence if you offer to fill his coffers."

"It is certainly worth a shot," Luce remarked.

He finished tying the knots just as Gerrod awakened.

Groaning, the captain raised his bound hands to his head and winced in pain. When he looked up dazedly, it was to find the Earl of Clune training his own pistol on him.

"You struck me…" Gerrod said in amazement. "You bastard… How dare you!"

"No," Aurora replied, staring down at him. "I am the one who struck you."

At the captain's astonished look, Nicholas couldn't repress a smile. "You should not have threatened me, Gerrod. My – " He stopped at the word wife, remembering the pretense he still had to maintain. "Lady Aurora is like a tigress when it comes to defending her loved ones."

If looks could kill, Nick knew he would have been skewered by Gerrod's malevolent glare.

Eventually the captain turned his angry focus to the other men in the room. "You obviously have been duped, my lords. I tell you, this man is not Brandon Deverill but a convicted pirate – "

"This stale claim is beginning to bore me," Dare remarked. "Would you like a gag for the good captain, Luce?" Drawing out a clean handkerchief, he handed it to Wycliff.

Gerrod recoiled in horror. "Damn you, you will pay for this!" he threatened. "I will charge you all with treason!"

"I doubt you'll succeed," Lucian said mildly. "You'll find that my word carries more weight with the Admiralty than yours. The navy owes me a few favors, in any case. And Lord March is considered a war hero."

Almost wildly Gerrod looked to Aurora. "You will regret it if you go with that criminal, my lady. You will be considered a fugitive in England. You will never be able to return."

She met Nicholas's gaze across the small cabin. "I don't care," she said staunchly, her blue eyes soft.

He felt joy well within him, and it was all he could do to refrain from lunging across the room and taking her in his arms.

Just then Wycliff raised the gag to the captain's mouth.

"You cannot do this!" Gerrod exclaimed, beginning to struggle.

Lucian simply grasped the captain by the throat and stared at him with narrowed eyes. "I hope you won't put me to the trouble of dispatching you to your Maker. You could easily find yourself alone at sea, with no rescue ship insight."

Immediately Gerrod ceased his struggles.

Barbaric but effective, Nick thought with satisfaction.

Gerrod looked as if he had swallowed bile.

Lucian gagged the captain, then hauled him to his feet. "We should be on our way and leave you two to prepare to sail."

"Thank you, my lord," Aurora said to Wycliff, her smile including Clune as well. "Our thanks to you both."

Lucian raised an eyebrow. "For helping save his skin? You needn't thank me. I'm rather fond of the rogue. If you wish, I will make your apologies to your acquaintances for your sudden departure."

Nicholas saw Aurora's smile fade. "What is it, angel?"

"Raven… I wasn't able to say farewell. And I am apprehensive about leaving her alone in England."

He glanced at his cousin. "Will you look after Miss Kendrick for me, Luce?"

"I would be happy to."

"And I," Dare volunteered, "would be pleased to offer my services as well."

"Forgive me," Nicholas retorted, flashing a grin, "but asking you to safeguard a lady is like expecting a wolf to protect a flock of sheep."

"In this instance you have nothing to fear. I vow I will be as chaste as an elderly brother."

"If I hear anything to the contrary," Nick threatened, only half in jest, "I'll string you up by your thumbs."

"Point taken. Well then, farewell and good journey, my friend."

When the two noblemen had shepherded their prisoner from the cabin, only March was left. Nicholas watched as Aurora went to the earl and took his hand. With the softest of smiles, she raised her lips and planted a tender kiss on his cheek.

Nick found himself clenching his jaw… but he willed himself to endure it. He no longer had reason to be jealous of the nobleman, he told himself. Not when he was the one claiming Aurora as his wife.

March murmured a farewell and then fixed his gaze pointedly on Nicholas. "You had best take good care of her, Sabine, or you can be certain I will be paying you a visit in America."

"Be assured, I will guard her with my life," Nick vowed solemnly.

The earl returned his attention to Aurora. "I wish you all the happiness in the world, my dear."

"And I, you. Simone is a fortunate woman. Perhaps someday I may meet her."

Stepping back, March gave Aurora a final smile and then left, shutting the cabin door behind him.

Nick took a slow breath, trying to ease the brutal tension in his body. When Aurora turned to face him, his gaze riveted on hers. "I wasn't wrong, was I?" he breathed. "You love me?"

"Yes, Nicholas. I love you."

Joy hit him with such fierceness it made him shake. In two strides he had reached her and caught her up in his arms, the way he'd been longing to do since her arrival onboard the schooner. Aurora found her lips smothered beneath his passionate kiss.

Even when he had stolen her breath away, he wouldn't cease. His mouth moved over hers hungrily as if he were starved for the taste of her. Finally, however, Nicholas broke off the tender assault long enough to rasp hoarsely against her lips.

"Tell me again," he demanded.

She didn't misunderstand his urgency. "I love you," she managed to say before he cut off her declaration with another devastating kiss.

It was a long, long moment before Nick allowed her to speak again, although he still refused to let her go.

Breathless with desire and love, he pressed his forehead against hers. "What caused your change in heart?" he dared ask.

"I realized I couldn't live without you," Aurora said simply.

"Then you will be my wife?" He lifted his head, searching her face. Her eyes were bright with love; her lovely smile trapped his breath in his throat.

"Yes, Nicholas. I will… on one condition."

That finally gave him pause. He drew back to eye her warily. "What condition?"

"That you promise to make at least a small attempt to curb your recklessness."

"My recklessness?"

"Since I've known you, all you have ever done is deliberately court danger. I have no intention of becoming a widow again."

"I have no intention of letting you."

"You just said you intended to guard me with your life. And I saw you eyeing Gerrod's pistol as if you planned something rash. I felt sure you would have fought him for it if I hadn't acted."

"I would have found another way. I wouldn't have risked endangering you." Nick couldn't help but grin. "The look on Gerrod's face… He was so certain he had me in his grasp. He didn't count on having to deal with my beautiful, courageous wife."

"It was not courageous in the least. I was terrified he would shoot you." She shuddered. "I couldn't bear to lose you, Nicholas. I want your promise that you will try to keep yourself safe for my sake."

"I promise, sweetheart. My reckless days are over, I swear to you. I have too much at stake to risk losing you."

He gazed down into her azure eyes, still not quite believing his good fortune. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Aurora. I want to have children with you and grow old with you. I want to sleep with you and share dreams with you and wake up beside you…"

Aurora thought she had never heard words more beautiful.

Just then she felt the movement of the ship as the anchor was weighed. Nicholas lifted his head for a moment, then bent again to nuzzle her lips. "We have a long journey ahead of us, do you realize that, my love?"

She felt her pulse quicken at the thought; the prospect of having weeks and weeks alone with Nicholas filled her with joy.

Deliberately she raised her arms to encircle his neck, gazing into his dark eyes that shone so fiercely with tenderness.

"Not long enough," Aurora whispered, wanting to sing with the fullness in her heart.

She was actually sailing to Virginia with Nicholas as his wife. The enormity of her decision no longer alarmed her. She could only contemplate her future with eagerness and excitement and hope.

Nicholas was her life. The only man she would ever love.

As her lips molded to his, a line from the journal came back to her: He held my heart captive, with chains stronger than steel.

She was Nicholas's captive, she reflected, but a completely willing one.

She sighed and gave herself up to his searing kiss. Nicholas owned her heart. And she knew with utter certainty they had touched only the beginning of something vast and beautiful. Their future lay ahead of them. A future bright with promise. Husband and wife, bound together by an irresistible passion known as love.