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?"
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