Nicholas's mouth tightened. "What is unforgivable is you burying yourself alive in the past. You have to forget your former betrothed, Aurora, and move on with your life."
She averted her gaze. "It is not so easy to forget the death of someone you love." Her voice dropped to a low murmur. "You cannot conceive what it was like for me to lose Geoffrey. He was more than my betrothed. He was a dear friend, someone I had loved nearly from the cradle. And after losing my mother – " Abruptly she bit off the sentence, her throat tightening at the memory. Nicholas wouldn't understand the rage of loss, the desolate feeling of helplessness, the unbearable loneliness she had felt at losing Geoffrey, too.
She had been devastated when her beloved mother had succumbed to an influenza epidemic. Geoffrey had been her solace, had comforted her and helped ease her anguish. And then he had died as well. It was so unfair that he had been cut down in the prime of life. But then… she had learned how useless it was to rail against fate.
Forcing back the pain as she always did, Aurora rose abruptly. "I don't intend to argue with you about this, Nicholas. I trust you can show yourself out."
She turned to leave but his soft voice stopped her. "Aurora."
She wouldn't look at him. She heard him scrape back his chair, felt his nearness as he came up behind her. His arms encircled her, holding her lightly.
"Don't push me away," he said into her hair.
Her throat constricted. Heat pulsed through her, while need rose up in her like the pressure of tears.
As he drew her back against his hard, muscular form, she was reminded all over again why it was dangerous to have anything to do with Nicholas. The fierce desire she felt for him was a fiery ache inside her. She didn't want him to leave, didn't want to push him away, and yet a desperate need for self-preservation was clamoring within her, warning her to save herself.
"I was mistaken to have invited you here," she whispered. "I don't want to become intimate with you again. I can't."
"Why not?" His hand rose to shape the curve of her breast, the mound filling his palm. "We are husband and wife. We need no more license than that to become lovers."
"To what end?" Her voice was raw. "A momentary pleasure?"
He hesitated a long moment. "What is so wrong with a momentary pleasure?"
She shut her eyes. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek, feel his palm erotically cupping her breast, and she had to force back a moan.
"You, Nicholas," she said raggedly. "You are what is wrong. You are the last man I would ever willingly choose as my lover. I could not bear to form an attachment to a man who risks death for the sheer sport of it. I have had enough of death. First my mother, then Geoffrey… I won't open myself to that kind of hurt again."
"I am not asking you to."
"You are. You have accused me of hiding from my feelings. Perhaps I do, but it is less painful that way."
"Less painful, yes, but infinitely less fulfilling." His own voice was a rough whisper. "Do you really want to go through life missing the joys, the triumphs? What point is there in living if you wall yourself from everything that gives meaning to life? From excitement, from desire, from passion?"
When she didn't answer, he pressed his mouth against her hair. "Can you really hold yourself so aloof, Aurora? Can you deny your own wild yearning? Are you that strong?"
He was speaking to every forbidden impulse she had ever had. Desperately Aurora shook her head. She had to resist, had to fight her traitorous need for him. Surrendering to her desire would be madness, would lead only to hurt. Already she had come to feel too deeply for him. Already Nicholas had caught her in his powerful spell…
She had to end it now, before she was too late.
"You are wrong," she said, almost pleading. "I don't want passion. I want only to be left alone."
"I don't believe that. I remember the captivating woman you were in our marriage bed. I won't let you forget the passionate lover you were that night."
"Nicholas, please…just… go."
In answer he turned her slowly to face him, his arms at her waist lightly holding her captive, his searching eyes dark and intent. She stood helplessly looking up at him, drowning in his gaze.
"Aurora…" The word was a sensual husk of a whisper.
Then he bent his head.
Aurora gave a soft moan of protest as she pressed her hands against his chest. She didn't want his kiss… didn't want to feel his warm lips moving upon hers, to open to him and take his breath into her mouth. Didn't want to lift her arms and entwine her fingers in his hair, to feel this wild, throbbing hunger that he alone could rouse in her…
His kiss deepened, becoming heated and urgent, while his arms tightened around her. Aurora made, a soft whimpering sound of need. She was keenly aware of his hard body, the rigid evidence of his mounting desire pressing against her. She heard his breath become more ragged as his devouring mouth plundered her own.
Excitement flared through her senses at the promise of the unbearable pleasure he offered. He wanted her. And heaven help her, she wanted him…
At that moment she heard a footfall on the steps leading to the kitchen. Alarm rippled through Aurora, giving her the strength to pull away from his forbidden embrace.
She was safely across the room, her heart thrumming erratically, her body still vibrating with riotous sensations, when Danby appeared.
"Young Lord March is being attended to, my lady," the butler informed her. "Is there anything else you wish?"
Aurora struggled for command of her passion-hazed senses. "Yes, Danby," she managed in a shaky voice. "Will you see Mr… Deverill out? He was just leaving."
Without another glance at Nicholas, she fled.
Watching her, Nick locked his jaw, willing himself not to follow. He sure as hell hadn't wanted to let her go. Yet maybe it was fortunate they had been interrupted, for he might not have stopped kissing Aurora until he was sheathed deep within her. He'd been so blinded with need, he could have taken her right there, in her kitchen.
It was only when he was driving his curricle back to his hotel, however, that Nicholas had time to consider his ravenous craving.
He was hard pressed to explain the power Aurora held over him. He had never met another woman whose touch produced such a blaze of desire in him. What was it about her that made her so damned tempting?
She was beautiful, true. She possessed a spellbinding combination of beauty and wit, intelligence and grace, that he'd rarely found in any other woman. Her resistance to his wooing, too, made her unique among her sex.
Unquestionably, he was driven by the challenge she presented. Not only did his competitive nature compel him to try to win the battle of wills between them, but having her so near, yet untouchable, was a sweet, sexual hell that roused his every primal male instinct.
But what he felt went far deeper than mere competitiveness or lust. Without realizing it, he'd become caught up in desire. The desire to claim her fully as his.
He was playing with fire, he knew, but never before had he been so willing to be burned.
Nick's mouth twisted in a dark smile. His friends and family would be amazed to find him so enamored of a woman – certainly of his own wife. But whether he wanted Aurora so intensely because she'd bewitched him or because she continued to deny him, he was less inclined than ever simply to walk away.
What had begun as a practical resolve to fulfill an obligation to his father and make the best of an unwanted marriage had somehow become a vital need. The more he came to know Aurora, the more certain he was that he wanted her for his wife.
He wasn't wrong about her. She had a wild spirit inside her that longed to be free. Her exquisite ministrations earlier in the park had proven that. Her momentary daring had startled and delighted him, giving him a savage release that had left him temporarily sated.
His triumph had been short-lived, though.
Remembering, Nicholas cursed. To see her retreat back into her self-protective cocoon
afterward had infuriated him. He had wanted to shake some sense into her. And when she had spoken so tenderly of her love for her late betrothed, he had wanted to hit something.
Fierce possessiveness flooded Nick at the memory. He was jealous of a dead man. Her idolization of the late, great Geoffrey, Lord March, was enraging. But until she got over her memories of March, she would never be able to move on with her life… or give herself freely to anyone else. To him.
Nick set his jaw grimly. He was accustomed to rescuing damsels in distress, but usually the peril came from a physical threat. This time, however, he would save Aurora from herself.
He would claim her for his wife… and he would make her forget that she had ever loved another man.
Chapter Fifteen
He made his intent clear; he was determined to have me, body and soul.
Contrary to Aurora's hopes, young Harry's arrival in London did little to solve her dilemma: how to avoid her persistent, unwanted husband. Rather Harry's visit merely gave Nicholas further pretext for intimacy. He called at her house frequently, ostensibly to entertain Harry and take him to see the sights of London.
Their almost instant camaraderie greatly dismayed Aurora. Nicholas had won over the boy with his tales of ships and seafaring, along with liberal doses of charm. Yet she was reluctant to disappoint her newest young charge by refusing Nicholas entry to her home.
Frequently she was even grateful for his intervention. It was no small task, keeping an energetic ten-year-old occupied. She took Harry on her morning rides in the park, but that hardly scratched the surface of his adventurous itch. He wanted to see the world, beginning with every inch of London.
Fortunately – or unfortunately for convention's sake – Raven befriended him, and the two could often be found racing through the park like wild Indians. Aurora could hardly scold, since she had instigated the morning gallops in the first place.
Even wild gallops, however, could not compete with the entertainments Nicholas offered. Harry came home wide-eyed and excited when they visited Exeter ‘Change to see the tigers and Egyptian Hall in Piccadilly, which boasted curiosities from Africa and the Americas. Three days later he suffered a stomachache from eating too much gingerbread when they attended a local fair with conjurers and tumblers and rope dancers.
When Aurora fretted that Nicholas was overindulging the boy, he brushed off her concerns and told her not to worry.
"Of course I worry," she responded. "I am responsible for him."
"I won't allow him to come to any harm, I promise you."
She had to be content with that, but there was no question Nicholas was encouraging Harry to test his wings, or that the boy had contracted a feverish case of hero-worship.
Raven accompanied them to Astley's Royal Amphitheater for a spectacle of acrobatics on horseback. The next day Harry attempted one of the feats of horsemanship and fell off his mount, skinning his knees and bloodying his chin.
Aurora was alarmed, but Nicholas reminded her that skinned knees were a rite of boyhood. When she would have continued protesting, he warned her not to try to rein the boy in too tightly, or he would think she was smothering him as his mother did.
Still, she didn't like it that Nicholas was aiding and abetting Harry's rebellion.
The final straw was Burford's Panorama in Castle Street, which offered murals of, among other things, the naval victories of Admiral Nelson on the Nile. All Harry could talk about afterward was going to sea.
"I think perhaps it's best if you cease taking him to any more entertainments," Aurora told Nicholas during their morning ride the following day.
"Why?"
"Because Harry is an impressionable young boy. I dread to think what wild notions he is picking up from you."
"I would hardly call an exhibit of Egyptian hieroglyphics wild."
"It is not the entertainment but your company that concerns me. You are scarcely the best influence, Nicholas."
"Brandon, please, my love."
Aurora raised her eyes to the sky. "It disturbs me that Harry is becoming so attached to you. I don't like to consider how disappointed he will be when you must leave." Or how she herself would feel. "He sees you as a hero because of all your adventures."
"From all reports, I don't hold a candle to his late brother for adventures. According to Harry, your Geoffrey was a spy."
Aurora shook her head. "Harry is quite mistaken. Geoffrey was the last man who would ever become involved in spying."
"Why do you say so?"
"He was far too intellectual. He always had his nose in a book."
"He sounds deadly dull."
The accusation irked her, yet Aurora found herself averting her gaze in chagrin. She had scarcely thought of Geoffrey in the fortnight since Nicholas's arrival in England.
A sharp ache filled her at the realization, along with a profound surge of guilt. How could she be so disloyal to Geoffrey's memory? She had known him all her life, but she could barely remember him now, his image was so eclipsed by Nicholas's vital presence.
Compared to Nicholas, he was only a shadow.
Aurora pressed her lips together, determined to conquer her disloyalty. "Geoffrey was a proper gentleman, yes," she replied curtly, "and a gentle man. He would never leave his home and family and risk his life simply for the thrill of it. Unlike some others I know," she added pointedly.
"Like I said… dull."
When Aurora bristled, Nicholas only grinned and gestured with his head toward a grove of trees beside the Serpentine. "I'll wager your dear Geoffrey would never have thought of bringing you here, or that you would ever have serviced him so delightfully if he had."
She realized they were passing the spot where Nicholas had brought her for a moonlit interlude, and she flushed. When she looked at him, though, the devilish light in his eyes faded, and so did the rest of the world.
Aurora froze, ensnared by the silent intensity of Nicholas's gaze. The raw tension that had lain simmering beneath the surface had returned in a heartbeat with the force of a blow… along with another dangerous emotion.
Desire. It flared up in her, swiftly, uncontrollably, at a single glance.
For the past two weeks she'd done her utmost to pretend indifference, to ignore the fierce longing Nicholas roused in her, but it was still keenly alive, smoldering between them.
At some point she would have to face it, Aurora realized. Unwilling, however, to deal with the issue just then, she forced her gaze away.
Yet she knew the volatile situation between them could not continue very much longer.
Even with Harry to shield her, Nicholas's pursuit of her showed no sign of abating, and it kept Aurora in a constant state of conflict. He was turning her life upside down, just as she feared, destroying her hard-won equanimity. It dismayed her, how vulnerable she was to him.
It was more dismaying to remember the danger he faced. The following afternoon, Aurora was rudely reminded just how precarious Nicholas's situation was: she received a letter from her cousin Percy in St. Kitts, wondering if she had heard from Nicholas.
Aurora feverishly devoured the contents, which implied that at least one earlier missive had gone astray.
Since I last wrote you, I have concluded that the rumors of Nicholas's survival must be true. Not only are there reports he was seen in the Caribbean since his presumed drowning, but yesterday I was questioned by naval officers searching for the pirate Captain Saber.
If Nicholas is indeed alive, my dear, you should prepare yourself for scandal, for legally you will still be his wedded wife. I now can only regret my part in arranging your marriage…
Percy also apologized for deceiving her about the hanging.
Nick thought it best to spare you the trauma of watching him die. And knowing the pain you had recently suffered with the loss of your betrothed, I agreed.
It was not Percy's deception, however, that alarmed Aurora. It was knowing that before long the world would realize the condemned cri
minal she had wed was still a fugitive from British naval justice.
Her fingers clenched the letter. She couldn't let this situation go on. It terrified her that Nicholas was risking capture and death to pursue her. She had to make him see reason, to convince him to leave England.
She made an earnest attempt the next day during their morning ride. She'd gotten a later start than usual because Harry's mount had gone lame from a stone bruise and had to be replaced. When Aurora and Harry finally arrived, the park was already filling with governesses and their young charges.
Aurora joined Nicholas and Raven for a sedate ride along Rotten Row, while Harry spurred his mount on, with her groom following close behind. Raven, for once, chose decorum over excitement, so Aurora was forced to hold her tongue and wait for a private word with Nicholas.
Shortly they encountered an open barouche, where an elegant couple was descending with a very young child.
Aurora tensed in alarm when she recognized the Baron and Baroness Sinclair. Damien Sinclair, once known as "Lord Sin," had been a premier rake of England and a prime leader of the Hellfire League before his marriage. There was every possibility, she knew, that he could identify Nicholas.
Aurora hoped to ride quietly past. She greatly admired Lord Sinclair's wife, Vanessa, for they had struck up a friendship during Aurora's come-out a few years earlier, but she had no desire to be seen just then.
As they passed the barouche, however, Vanessa Sinclair spied her and greeted her warmly. Unable to avoid acknowledging the acquaintance, Aurora drew rein.
Lord and Lady Sinclair made a striking couple. Their young daughter, Catherine, was perhaps eighteen months old and just as striking, with her father's raven hair and mother's dark eyes.
With great reluctance, Aurora introduced her party and felt apprehensive when Sinclair eyed Nicholas curiously. She was relieved for the distraction when the toddler squirmed in her father's arms and pointed toward the lake, exclaiming, "Duck! Duck!"
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