"That was not the lesson I took from the journal," Aurora murmured, although not as staunchly as before. "I thought she was foolish to allow any man to rule her heart in that manner."
"My father believed it was better to have only one moment of true passion than never to know it at all."
She hesitated. "And look what it gained him. A lifetime of misery, yearning for a woman he could never have." Aurora shook her head, as if trying to convince herself. "It is far better never to give your heart than risk having it torn out."
Nick's gaze dropped to her tempting mouth that had hardened in resolve. A rush of desire swept over him as he thought of transforming her stubborn conviction into melting surrender.
Nicholas drew a ragged breath at the erotic image. "I think you are a woman like Desiree, Aurora. You have the same wild spirit."
She set down her cup unsteadily. "You're mistaken."
His gaze never faltered. "What is it that frightens you about that notion? That you could feel passion that intense? Or that you could be jolted out of that cocoon you've wrapped around yourself?"
She rose abruptly. "I think you should go, Nicholas."
After a moment's hesitation, he set down his own cup and stood. When he closed the distance between them, she didn't back away, obviously determined not to let him intimidate her.
Deliberately he took her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss on the inner flesh of her wrist. She stood defiantly, unmoving, yet her cheeks flushed, betraying her struggle for control. More revealing, he could see the yearning of long-suppressed desire in her eyes.
She was ripe for passion, for life, Nicholas knew. She desperately needed to be freed from the rigid shackles that bound her, and he was the only man to do it. But he wouldn't fight her just yet. The battle had scarcely begun, and he could be patient.
"I am not mistaken, siren," he said softly. "I've tasted all that sweet fire hidden beneath your layers of cool reserve. There's a sensual, passionate woman waiting to be set free. And I intend to find her."
With a brief bow, he turned and walked away.
Aurora stood frozen, staring after Nicholas's retreating back. When he had left, she let out a shaky breath. Her heart was still hammering in her chest from his nearness, his sheer magnetism.
How did he always manage to overwhelm her that way? How could he make her blood race with a simple touch, turning her knees to water and her willpower to jelly? Why did he kindle such inner turmoil? He brought out the worst in her – dark emotions she didn't want to feel. This time, however, his probing questions had unnerved her as much as his physical presence and his provoking behavior.
Weakly she sank into her chair. Was Nicholas right? Was she like Desiree? Did she have a wild spirit just waiting to be set free?
Certainly she was a different woman since meeting Nicholas Sabine… driven by desires she had never known before. She had fought her powerful attraction to him, along with the restless yearning he roused in her so effortlessly, but it was there, simmering below the surface.
Uncertainly Aurora picked up the journal he had left for her. She had been shocked by the explicit sensuality she'd found there, but the love story had captured her imagination. Vulnerable to her master's gentle seduction and exotic temptations, Desiree had been swept up in a storm of passion she never before imagined…
What would it be like to know such incredible passion? To be overwhelmed by the madness of love, the blindness of desire? To experience feelings so powerful they could blot out any vestiges of wisdom and reason?
She'd had a fleeting taste of such passion on her wedding night, Aurora remembered unwillingly.
The book fell open to a well-worn page:
I love the many parts of you. I love your hard flesh so deep inside me. I love the weight and strength of you, so powerful against my softness. I love your feverish hunger, your desire that makes me feel so much a woman.
Aurora shut her eyes. Nicholas. He reminded her so very much of the Frenchwoman's lover – bold, virile, vibrantly sensual. Like the prince in the journal, he had awakened a woman's tender longing deep within her.
Against her will, her mind flashed to a vision of their marriage bed, the two of them together… Nicholas making love to her with such fierce tenderness, moving inside her, filling her with the pleasure sh
e needed, wanted.
The same pleasure his dark eyes had promised moments ago.
She shivered. She would not allow herself to surrender to the promise in his eyes. She dared not yield to him, no matter how his touch set her blood racing.
Still, she couldn't deny her hungry yearning.
Chapter Twelve
My resistance seemed hopeless. How could I defend against the restless yearning he kindled in me?