The Passion n-2

by Nicole Jordan

  Despite the gaiety of the masquerade, Aurora felt no joy for the remainder of the evening, only dismay and uncertainty and an ever-mounting tension. Nicholas had promised to seek her out after the ball, but she had yet to recover from the shock of seeing him, let alone compose herself enough to hold a rational discussion about their marital status. She could only hope for a reprieve until she'd had time for reflection.

  Eager to take an early leave, she found Raven to say good night. They had no opportunity, however, to speak privately about Nicholas's remarkable return from the dead – and barely a moment to exchange promises to meet tomorrow for their usual morning ride – before Raven was whisked away by another dance partner.

  By coincidence, Aurora encountered Lord Clune as she prepared to descend the grand staircase to the front door. When he offered to escort her to her carriage, she demurred politely. "You needn't trouble yourself, my lord."

  "It is no trouble to enjoy the company of such a beautiful lady."

  Aurora knew she should rebuff his casual flattery, but she was too distracted even to respond.

  The street was crowded with any manner of vehicles, but the servants leaped to do the earl's bidding, and Aurora's carriage was summoned in short order.

  "I have an early engagement tomorrow," Clune said as he handed her into the barouche, "but I hope to see you some morning in the park."

  "Very well, Lord Clune," Aurora replied, just wishing to be rid of him.

  "Sweet dreams, my dear."

  She scarcely heard his courteous behest, for as the door closed behind her, a strong hand reached out to support her elbow and settle her on the seat.

  Aurora bit back a gasp, while her heart rose to her throat. In the dim interior she could make out a shadowy figure beside her. Nicholas.

  She could only stare as the carriage began to move forward. She had not dreamed him. He was truly the man she had wed, and the same sensations quivered through her at his nearness, just as powerful as they'd been four months ago.

  His tone, however, lacked any of its previous warmth when he spoke. "Would you care to tell me what that was about?"

  "About?" Aurora said rather breathlessly.

  "Clune's pursuit of you."

  "He is not pursuing me."

  Nicholas reached toward her and removed her silver mask, evidently wanting to see her face. "You expect me to believe he feels no interest in you?"

  Taken aback by his tone, she gazed at Nicholas warily. "He was simply being kind, accompanying me to my carriage."

  "And you are so very appreciative of his kindness." His voice held a hard edge of what could be anger. "Have you forgotten your husband so soon, Aurora?"

  "I never forgot you," she replied earnestly.

  "No? You are hardly the picture of the grieving widow. Within four months of my supposed death, my lovely widow is attending masquerades and making assignations with noted rakehells."

  Aurora's confusion at his unexpected attack melted into annoyance. "I have had enough criticism from my father regarding my conduct, Nicholas. I don't require it from you as well."

  "Criticism seems deserved in this instance."

  "I assure you," she retorted, "until now I have made every effort to avoid any hint of scandal. I attended tonight's ball for Raven's sake, because she begged me to – But I cannot comprehend why I must defend myself to you."

  There was a pause. Aurora could feel Nicholas's gaze searching her. "So you weren't encouraging Clune?" His tone seemed to soften.

  "No, not in the least. Our relationship is not what you're implying. He is merely a distant acquaintance. He is also one of the few people who never condemned me for my ill-considered marriage."

  Nicholas's pause was longer this time. "Have these past few months been difficult for you, then?"

  "You might say so," Aurora replied with an edge of cynicism. "I gained more than a little notoriety when I wed you, a criminal on the gallows. My father was outraged…" She bit off the remark, not wanting to dwell on her father's violent reaction. "Suffice it to say that I am no longer received in certain polite circles."

  "I regret you had to suffer because of me," Nicholas said finally.

  A little mollified, she studied him. Her eyes had adjusted to the dimness of the carriage, and in the moonlight filtering through the window, she could just make out his handsome features. He was no figment of her fevered imagination. He was the same incredibly vital man she remembered, every inch flesh and blood and rock-hard muscle, with the same strong face, the same fathomless eyes, the same sensuous mouth… She stopped herself abruptly.

  "It has not been so bad, to be truthful," she said. "Your cousin Wycliff was extraordinarily helpful, offering the protection of his name and consequence. And he saw to all the financial particulars, just as you requested of him in your letter. Your settlement was more than generous, Nicholas. It allowed me to purchase a house of my own here in London."

  His dark eyes held hers. "But you've come to regret your decision to wed me."

  "No." She shook her head. "I don't regret it. You saved me from a repugnant marriage and allowed me independence from my father. It is just that… neither of us intended our union to last. We both thought it would end when… when you…"

  "When I died. That still doesn't change the fact that we are legally wed."

  A troubled frown creased her brow. "I don't see how we can possibly acknowledge our marriage, even if we wished to. You cannot risk having your identity discovered. Revealing you as my husband would ensure your arrest at the very least, and likely your death."

  "I told you, I don't intend to reveal myself. I am here as my cousin Brandon."

  "That disguise will be flimsy at best. Even with the change to your hair, you are sure to be recognized."

  "I don't think so. I haven't spent much time in England lately. Three years ago I visited for an extended period, but my last trip was very brief."

  "Clune remembers you well enough. Just this evening he was recounting tales of your wilder exploits. And he is a very clever man, despite his appearance of indolence."

  When Nicholas remained silent, Aurora's gaze raked over his pirate's attire. He wore a black cloak over his tunic now, tied loosely at the neck, but she could see the lethal-looking saber at his side.

  "How can you hope to keep your identity secret," she asked, "if you insist on flaunting yourself this way? It was incredibly brazen of you to appear in public dressed as a pirate."

  His teeth flashed white in the darkness. "I thought it perfectly appropriate."

  Aurora found herself drawing a breath of exasperation at his recklessness. "You cannot be seen with me, Nicholas. I would never be able to explain your presence."

  "But you can. You can simply say that I am your late husband's cousin. With such a close familial relationship, our acquaintance will be considered unexceptional."

  "You seem to be forgetting one very important matter."

  "And what is that?"

  "Your sister. You should think of Raven when you contemplate such a rash scheme. If the truth comes out and you're hanged, I, as your wife, would be instantly embroiled in a scandal, and as my ward, Raven would be tarnished by the same brush. Surely you don't want to jeopardize her chances for a good match."

  "No. That's the last thing I would want, after going to all this trouble to see her established in society."

  She contemplated him for a long moment. "Do you seriously want me for your wife?"

  His expression remained enigmatic. "I don't see that I have much choice."

  His resignation surprised her. She had expected him to be as eager to find a way out of their dilemma as she was.

  "Nicholas," Aurora said slowly, hoping logic would make him reconsider, "we should be sensible about this. There are any number of reasons why a true marriage between us would never work. You are American, and I am English – and our countries are at war. You're an adventurer, one who embraces violence, while I… well, I am not adventuresome
in the least, and I abhor any sort of violence. And furthermore, we… we don't love each other."

  She hesitated, finding it strangely unsettling to present this last argument. Whatever she felt for Nicholas Sabine was most certainly not love. "I don't love you – any more than you love me. You only wed me for your sister's sake. Marriage should be about love and commitment, not an act of desperation."

  His jaw tensed momentarily when she mentioned the word love. But then he relaxed back in his seat with a rueful frown, crossing his arms over his chest and lazily stretching out his long legs. "No, there is no love between us," he admitted.

  Unaccountably Aurora winced when Nicholas agreed so readily. It was absurd to feel spurned simply because he disavowed any love for her. A reckless adventurer like Nicholas Sabine was unlikely to give his heart to any woman, particularly one to whom he'd been shackled under duress.

  "So you see?" she observed. "There is no point in our trying to remain together. The simple fact remains that I don't wish to be your wife. And you don't truly wish to be my husband."

  "There is just one problem," Nicholas said slowly, eyeing her speculatively. "Annulment is not an option, considering that we spent one very passionate night together."

  The heated memory of that night flooded Aurora, while her awareness of Nicholas suddenly increased tenfold. His thigh lay alongside hers on the carriage seat; she could feel the heat radiating from his powerful body, seeping into hers.

  He must have been remembering the same night, for his intense gaze slowly raked her. She could feel his eyes linger on her breasts, her hips, as if he were imagining exactly what lay beneath her domino and gown.

  Aurora flushed, discomfited by the intimacy of his look and by the stark memory it conjured – of Nicholas moving between her thighs, filling her… Her breath caught at the unwelcome arrow of pleasure that shot through her.

  Then his gaze lifted to settle on her abdomen. "I gather there was no fruit of our union."

  "No," she murmured, unable to prevent a strange prick of disappointment that she didn't carry his child. But she shouldn't regret that outcome in the least. Were she breeding, she would doubtless have far more difficulty convincing Nicholas to free her from their marriage as she hoped to do.

  "So…" he said slowly when she remained quiet, "you're proposing that we simply ignore the fact that we have a legal bond between us? That we live separate lives, pretend as if we aren't actually man and wife?"

  "Well… I suppose that is what I am proposing. It would be infinitely more satisfactory to us both, more comfortable."

  "I think you are forgetting something else, siren," he said softly.

  "What?" She looked at him quizzically.

  In response he reached out and slid his fingers behind her nape. Slowly, inexorably, he drew her to him, till she was pressed against him, her mouth nearly touching his.

  "This…" he murmured as his lips found hers.

  His kiss was spellbinding, shortening her breath and tightening her body. It was intimate and sexual and incredibly arousing, kindling a hunger in her that she'd never thought to experience again. She felt herself melting against him…

  When finally he left off, it was only to move his lips to her ear. "Ours wasn't a love match," he whispered huskily, "but the attraction between us is real enough. You feel the same fire I do, sweeting. How can we pretend it doesn't exist?"

  Dazed from his drugging, claiming kiss, Aurora tried to regain her bearings. Her hands were pressed against Nicholas's chest, while she was nearly draped over him, his body supporting her… and the carriage had slowed to a halt. Dear God…

  Alarm rose up in her as she realized they had arrived at their destination, her new home. Any instant now a footman would open the carriage door to help her descend.

  Pushing away from Nicholas, she sat up in a panic. "We cannot be seen together like this…"

  When she reached for the door handle, Nicholas forestalled her by lightly grasping her wrist.

  "Let me go!" she exclaimed in a desperate undertone.

  "For now I will, Aurora, but this discussion is far from over."

  She didn't respond, instead hurrying from the carriage before her servants could detect the presence of the sensual pirate who was also her husband.

  Aurora's maid helped her prepare for bed. By the time she dismissed Nell and retired, it was past midnight, yet she was too restless to sleep. She lay in the darkness, staring at the canopy overhead her mind feverishly occupied with thoughts of Nicholas. Her skin was still flushed from their last encounter, her lips still burning from his kiss.

  How was it possible one man could have such a devastating effect on her? How could he wield such emotional power? His mere nearness left her breathless, her senses spinning. His simplest touch aroused her, reminding her of the captivating passion of their wedding night… the same incredible passion that filled the journal.

  With an oath, Aurora rolled over, throwing off most of the covers. Her bedchamber was too warm, even though the windows had been left open. She was too warm.

  You feel the same fire I do. She had indeed felt the fire he kindled in her so effortlessly. She had fled the carriage in a state of panic because of it, fearing not only discovery but what Nicholas was doing to her. She had left him to his own devices -

  A sudden thought struck her. She had failed even to inquire whether he had somewhere to stay for the night. With his cousin Wycliff out of the country, Nicholas would have no assured welcome – But he was an adventurer, a fearless world traveler. He was quite accustomed to caring for himself without her help. She was not responsible for him, even if he was her husband.

  Husband. Aurora buried her face in the pillow. Did she have any right to reject him? She was legally bound to him.

  Sweet mercy, what was she to do? While she was elated that Nicholas hadn't been hanged, she most certainly did not want him for her husband.

  It was alarming to consider such a prospect. She had little doubt he would wreak havoc with her structured, peaceful life, strip away the equanimity she'd finally achieved. Already tonight she had experienced more violent emotion in one night than she'd felt in months – shock, anger, dismay, vexation, fear, joy…

  Abruptly Aurora crushed that reflection. Her joy at seeing Nicholas again was nothing more than relief that a courageous man's life had been spared. She was glad he was alive. Even so, she deplored the way he made her feel. He set her nerves on edge with his commanding presence and intense vitality. She couldn't even hold a simple conversation with him with any semblance of equanimity.

  She shouldn't have to endure such emotional turmoil in her life, not when she had never asked to become his wife. Logically, she had right on her side. Living together forever as husband and wife was no part of the bargain they'd agreed to.

  She didn't want to spend her life with a man she didn't love, who didn't love her. A man who could die at any moment. Nicholas had dismissed the danger of his discovery, much to her dismay and exasperation, but the peril was very real. He was risking his life to remain in England.

  She didn't want to live in terror that he would be taken from her. She had already lost Geoffrey – Indeed, she had already lost Nicholas once. She would not go through that despair again.

  No, he couldn't possibly remain her husband. She would simply have to make him see reason.

  Nicholas studied his sleeping wife in the faint moonlight, contemplating the vision of loveliness she made.

  He shouldn't be here, alone with Aurora, in her bedchamber, but he hadn't been able to keep away. Experience at negotiating a ship's rigging had allowed him to make short work of the oak tree outside her window.

  He stood over her slumbering form, drinking in her beauty – the ivory complexion, the delicately arched brows, the full lips that were parted slightly in slumber. Her vivid blue eyes were closed now, but her vibrant hair glimmered like spun silver in the moonlit darkness.

  My wife. It was incredible to think of her as
such.

  In the past he had never willingly considered settling down with one woman. His rootless life had left no room for the encumbrance of a wife. He'd always wanted freedom, always had an insatiable thirst for adventure, with danger and excitement his only mistresses. He had never wished for more – until he met Aurora.

  Why was she so unique? He'd encountered countless beauties in his travels, in the lavish and licentious kingdoms of Europe, the exotic lands of Africa, the mysterious realms of the East. But none had ever stirred his senses as this woman had the night they were bound together in matrimony. For months now she had haunted his dreams, as enchanting and beguiling as any siren.

  Reaching down, he lifted a treasure of gold strands, letting them glide through his fingers. Aurora was well bred and demure and emotionally wary, yet he'd had a tantalizing glimpse of her hidden fire beneath the layers of reserve, an experience he amazingly wanted to repeat.

  Slowly, purposefully, Nicholas tangled his hand in her silken hair. He remembered the taste of her, remembered every inch of her skin, every lush curve and hollow. He remembered himself sinking into the silky fire of her…

  Desire, heavy and urgent, tightened his body with startling intensity. A desire he couldn't possibly act on just yet.

  Reluctantly Nicholas forced himself to release her hair. He couldn't dispute Aurora. They were altogether wrong for each other. And it was indeed dangerous for him to remain in England. They both might be happier if he simply disappeared from her life.

  But although he had listened to her logical arguments with all seriousness, none had convinced him it was right to try to sever their marriage vows.

  In the first place, Aurora didn't realize the difficulty of ending a fully consummated union. And in the second… the second was the only one that truly counted. His obligation to his father was a stronger reason by far to see this marriage through, Nick acknowledged. He'd sworn he would assume the responsibilities he had neglected for so long, which meant taking a wife and starting a family.