The Passion (Notorious 2)

"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.