She turned to leave but his soft voice stopped her. "Aurora."
She wouldn't look at him. She heard him scrape back his chair, felt his nearness as he came up behind her. His arms encircled her, holding her lightly.
"Don't push me away," he said into her hair.
Her throat constricted. Heat pulsed through her, while need rose up in her like the pressure of tears.
As he drew her back against his hard, muscular form, she was reminded all over again why it was dangerous to have anything to do with Nicholas. The fierce desire she felt for him was a fiery ache inside her. She didn't want him to leave, didn't want to push him away, and yet a desperate need for self-preservation was clamoring within her, warning her to save herself.
"I was mistaken to have invited you here," she whispered. "I don't want to become intimate with you again. I can't."
"Why not?" His hand rose to shape the curve of her breast, the mound filling his palm. "We are husband and wife. We need no more license than that to become lovers."
"To what end?" Her voice was raw. "A momentary pleasure?"
He hesitated a long moment. "What is so wrong with a momentary pleasure?"
She shut her eyes. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek, feel his palm erotically cupping her breast, and she had to force back a moan.
"You, Nicholas," she said raggedly. "You are what is wrong. You are the last man I would ever willingly choose as my lover. I could not bear to form an attachment to a man who risks death for the sheer sport of it. I have had enough of death. First my mother, then Geoffrey… I won't open myself to that kind of hurt again."
"I am not asking you to."
"You are. You have accused me of hiding from my feelings. Perhaps I do, but it is less painful that way."
"Less painful, yes, but infinitely less fulfilling." His own voice was a rough whisper. "Do you really want to go through life missing the joys, the triumphs? What point is there in living if you wall yourself from everything that gives meaning to life? From excitement, from desire, from passion?"
When she didn't answer, he pressed his mouth against her hair. "Can you really hold yourself so aloof, Aurora? Can you deny your own wild yearning? Are you that strong?"
He was speaking to every forbidden impulse she had ever had. Desperately Aurora shook her head. She had to resist, had to fight her traitorous need for him. Surrendering to her desire would be madness, would lead only to hurt. Already she had come to feel too deeply for him. Already Nicholas had caught her in his powerful spell…
She had to end it now, before she was too late.
"You are wrong," she said, almost pleading. "I don't want passion. I want only to be left alone."
"I don't believe that. I remember the captivating woman you were in our marriage bed. I won't let you forget the passionate lover you were that night."
"Nicholas, please…just… go."
In answer he turned her slowly to face him, his arms at her waist lightly holding her captive, his searching eyes dark and intent. She stood helplessly looking up at him, drowning in his gaze.
"Aurora…" The word was a sensual husk of a whisper.
Then he bent his head.
Aurora gave a soft moan of protest as she pressed her hands against his chest. She didn't want his kiss… didn't want to feel his warm lips moving upon hers, to open to him and take his breath into her mouth. Didn't want to lift her arms and entwine her fingers in his hair, to feel this wild, throbbing hunger that he alone could rouse in her…
His kiss deepened, becoming heated and urgent, while his arms tightened around her. Aurora made, a soft whimpering sound of need. She was keenly aware of his hard body, the rigid evidence of his mounting desire pressing against her. She heard his breath become more ragged as his devouring mouth plundered her own.
Excitement flared through her senses at the promise of the unbearable pleasure he offered. He wanted her. And heaven help her, she wanted him…
At that moment she heard a footfall on the steps leading to the kitchen. Alarm rippled through Aurora, giving her the strength to pull away from his forbidden embrace.
She was safely across the room, her heart thrumming erratically, her body still vibrating with riotous sensations, when Danby appeared.
"Young Lord March is being attended to, my lady," the butler informed her. "Is there anything else you wish?"
Aurora struggled for command of her passion-hazed senses. "Yes, Danby," she managed in a shaky voice. "Will you see Mr… Deverill out? He was just leaving."