Midnight's Wild Passion

“Oh, Nicholas . . .” she whispered, hardly seeing through her tears.

His gesture seemed so outlandishly romantic. Could she be mistaken? Nicholas Challoner was a wild reprobate. Shallow. Uncaring. Unaffected by the tragedies of others.

Except none of that was true. That might be the impression he strove to maintain, but in their tempestuous dealings, she’d seen more than he wanted the world to discern. He’d revealed a universe of feeling the night she’d spent in this room where he lay so close to death.

The echo became louder, turned into certainty. The duel conveyed an unmistakable air of despairing self-destruction. His reckless challenge carried the same aura of sacrifice that had marked his kidnapping of Cassie.

He’d acted on behalf of someone he loved.

Someone he loved . . .

Surely not.

Nicholas didn’t love her. No matter that his attempt to shoot Johnny indicated he cared for her more than she’d realized.

Her frantic mind continued to arrange facts into new patterns. There was so much she hadn’t seen, hadn’t reckoned with.

In the end, Nicholas hadn’t been able to go through with kidnapping Cassie, had he? Or killing Johnny.

Antonia had long ago recognized that he meant to be considerably more ruthless than he was. If he was truly the conscienceless rake of legend, he’d have seduced her the night he broke into her bedroom. Seduced her, then blackmailed her to get to Cassie.

He’d done neither. Poignant emotion stabbed her as she remembered that night. His treatment of her had demonstrated a piercingly sweet chivalry.

He was flawed, he was occasionally wrong, his intentions toward Cassie, toward her, had been black with wickedness. But in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to play the complete villain.

She’d often wondered if he was a better man than she thought. Now she recognized that a reluctant hero skulked inside the Marquess of Ranelaw. A hero she’d fallen in love with, in spite of everything she told herself she believed about him.

Her heart had been wiser than she’d credited, after all.

Antonia drew a shuddering breath and in that instant, forgave him freely and absolutely for how he’d hurt her. She just prayed she got the chance to tell him.

“Nicholas, you’re a bigger fool than I thought,” she muttered, raising his slack hand and pressing it to her sticky cheek. Her throat was so tight, speaking was painful.

His silence crushed her heart. He’d drifted beyond reach. Horrible certainty burgeoned that she was too late. She’d sit here until his last breath seeped away.

It was too much to bear. She bent her head and sobbed, kissing his hand again and again as though her lips could restore life. She’d forgo all the years remaining to her if Nicholas opened his eyes.

“Don’t die. Please don’t die. Don’t leave me.” Then in a burst, shaking with feeling, “I’ll do anything you want. I’ll be your mistress. As long as you want, as publicly as you want. I can’t go on without you. You made me live again.”

She paused for a ragged breath. Again she spoke, although she realized he couldn’t hear. The words were for her sake. Words she’d never said when she’d so frantically raised barriers against him. Barriers that had crumbled the moment he touched her. And he knew it, the rogue.

Please, God, let him live to know it again.

Her voice vibrated with emotion. “You’ve won. You won long ago. I surrender unconditionally. No more resistance. No more denials.”

He remained utterly still, his face pale and peaceful. The peace jarred. Her beloved wasn’t a peaceful man.

Antonia’s last hope drained away. Excruciating pain lanced her heart.

Right alongside Nicholas, she died by inches. Because the best part of her died with him. The part she’d struggled against acknowledging because it was too wayward and passionate. The part that transformed her into a creature of light and flame. The part that had loved Nicholas first, although love for him now permeated every cell.

She rose on her knees and kissed his lips. He didn’t respond. She couldn’t bear this. He always responded to her kisses.

In an unstoppable wave, the last, most agonizing confession escaped. “I love you, Nicholas. I will always love you. You will be in my heart the day I die.” Then on a final whisper, “God bless you, my darling. God bless you through eternity.”

Still nothing.

She lowered her head to his shoulder and wept as her heart cracked into a thousand pieces.