The Passion (Notorious 2)

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.

And to be honest, if he had to be shackled to anyone, Aurora was a much more agreeable candidate than most. The physical attraction between them was a stronger basis for a relationship than many wedded couples had. And merely because he was wed didn't mean he had to give up his previous life or cherished freedom entirely.

No, he was resigned to the marriage. He'd had four long months to accustom himself to the idea, while she'd had merely a few hours. Given enough time and persuasion, Aurora would come around to his point of view.

Careful not to wake the sleeping beauty, Nicholas stripped down to his breeches, then joined Aurora on the bed, stretching out beside her.

He wasn't certain if the intimate bonds they'd forged that night were a desperate prisoner's fantasy or something deeper. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter, either, that he would have difficulty convincing Aurora to accept him as her husband.

He had come to England to claim his wife, and he wasn't leaving until he accomplished his goal.

Chapter Nine

His hands on my flesh were magical, caressing and claiming, arousing a fierce desire deep within me.