Nicole Jordan (27 page)

Waving the drumstick, the boy went off on another fantasy. “If I had my own ship, I could go to France and spy on the Frogs, like Geoffrey.”

“What do you mean, like Geoffrey?” Aurora asked.

“He was on a secret mission when his yacht sank—” Harry glanced around him surreptitiously. “Oh, I should not have said that. Geoffrey made me promise not to tell.”

Aurora put no credence in Harry’s comment. She could not possibly conceive of bookish Geoffrey dashing off to France to spy. Perhaps Harry simply had concocted that tale to give meaning to his brother’s senseless death at sea. Evidently he was even more in need of a friend than she first suspected.

There was no question that she would be that friend. She felt a strong duty toward the boy. Harry had been underfoot much of the time when he was growing up, even when Geoffrey was officially courting her. Harry was horse mad and had wanted any excuse to visit the Eversley stables. And he had trusted her judgment in horseflesh more than his brother’s. She, rather than Geoffrey, had chosen his first pony.

She had always thought of him as a younger brother, and he
would
have been her brother by marriage had not fate so callously intervened. Moreover, she well knew what it was like to want to escape a domineering parent. So despite her qualms about abetting his rebellion, she would allow Harry to remain with her for now. At least until she could persuade him to give up his nonsense about running off to sea in search of adventure.

When he yawned hugely, Aurora realized he was exhausted. “You should be in bed,” she said gently. “I’m certain we can sort this out in the morning.”

“You won’t send me home?”

“Not immediately, although I shall write your mother directly in the morning and let her know you have arrived safely, and ask her permission to let you stay with me for a visit.”

“You are a grand sport, Rory!” Getting up from the table, he ran around to her side and threw his arms around her neck.

Aurora couldn’t help but smile. “Did you say you had lost your clothing? We shall have to find you a suitable nightshirt.”

Danby, who was hovering discreetly just outside the door, appeared as if summoned. Aurora extricated herself from the boy’s bear hug. “Would you please see Lord March settled in the green bedchamber, Danby?”

“As you wish, my lady.”

When Harry started to follow the butler, Aurora stopped him. “One moment, my young lordling. I believe you owe Mr. Deverill an apology.”

Harry turned to Nicholas with reluctant contrition. “I am very sorry if I was rude, sir. Will you please forgive me?”

“You’re forgiven,” Nicholas said easily.

“And if I promise to behave, will you tell me about your ships?”

Nicholas smiled. “I would be happy to.”

“Thank you.” Harry glanced at Aurora. “He is not as bad as I feared, Rory.”

When the boy was gone, Aurora felt Nicholas’s gaze settle on her.

“He calls you Rory?”

“Harry could not pronounce my name when he was young, so I have always been Rory to him. I apologize for his earlier outburst. He really is a delightful boy.”

“I can see that.” Nicholas paused. “You handled him well. You would make a good mother.”

Their eyes met, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thought she was. What would their children have been like had their marriage been real and lasting?

Mentally Aurora chastised herself. She would be a fool to let herself dream of a true union with Nicholas. He wasn’t the kind of man to give his heart to one woman. Love was a game to him, an adventure. He would satisfy a woman’s carnal desires beyond her wildest imaginings, she had absolutely no doubt. But he would feel nothing deeper.

And with no stronger emotions to bind him, how long would it be before his restless urge to roam overtook him? Before the siren call of danger lured him from her side? Before he left her alone and heartbroken?

No, Aurora reminded herself as an ache of sadness twisted in her chest. There was no possibility of having children with Nicholas….

She suddenly caught her breath, remembering the unfinished matter between them. Nicholas was here, in her kitchen, because she had invited him to share her bed. Sweet heaven…

All at once the moment was filled with a new kind of tension. When his eyes caressed her, Aurora shifted in her seat, uneasy under his dark perusal.

Her resolve to keep him at a distance had nearly shattered this evening. She was suddenly grateful Harry had arrived when he had. Although he presented a problem—and was another unexpected male in her life—he had saved her from making a dreadful mistake.

“I think you should go,” she murmured, her voice suddenly hoarse.

“You didn’t feel that way an hour ago.”

“An hour ago I was suffering from a touch of moon madness. And I did not know Harry would run away from home and seek refuge here.”

“So you mean to hide behind him.” It was not a question. “To use him as a convenient excuse to deny the desire you feel for me.”

“No, Nicholas—”

“Yes. You’re fooling yourself, Aurora. Deceiving yourself about what you really want.”

“That isn’t true. I was inexcusably rash this evening—” Aurora shook her head. “I have to think of my responsibilities. I have a duty toward Harry. His brother is gone, and Geoffrey would have wanted me to watch over him.”

When Nicholas stared at her steadily, she added defensively, “It would be disloyal to Geoffrey’s memory for me to be intimate with you tonight. I should never have forgotten that today is the anniversary of his death. It was unforgivable of me.”

Nicholas’s mouth tightened. “What is unforgivable is you burying yourself alive in the past. You have to forget your former betrothed, Aurora, and move on with your life.”

She averted her gaze. “It is not so easy to forget the death of someone you love.” Her voice dropped to a low murmur. “You cannot conceive what it was like for me to lose Geoffrey. He was more than my betrothed. He was a dear friend, someone I had loved nearly from the cradle. And after losing my mother—” Abruptly she bit off the sentence, her throat tightening at the memory. Nicholas wouldn’t understand the rage of loss, the desolate feeling of helplessness, the unbearable loneliness she had felt at losing Geoffrey, too.

She had been devastated when her beloved mother had succumbed to an influenza epidemic. Geoffrey had been her solace, had comforted her and helped ease her anguish. And then he had died as well. It was so unfair that he had been cut down in the prime of life. But then…she had learned how useless it was to rail against fate.

Forcing back the pain as she always did, Aurora rose abruptly. “I don’t intend to argue with you about this, Nicholas. I trust you can show yourself out.”

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.”

Without another glance at Nicholas, she fled.

Watching her, Nick locked his jaw, willing himself not to follow. He sure as hell hadn’t wanted to let her go. Yet maybe it was fortunate they had been interrupted, for he might not have stopped kissing Aurora until he was sheathed deep within her. He’d been so blinded with need, he could have taken her right there, in her kitchen.

It was only when he was driving his curricle back to his hotel, however, that Nicholas had time to consider his ravenous craving.

He was hard pressed to explain the power Aurora held over him. He had never met another woman whose touch produced such a blaze of desire in him. What was it about her that made her so damned tempting?

She was beautiful, true. She possessed a spellbinding combination of beauty and wit, intelligence and grace, that he’d rarely found in any other woman. Her resistance to his wooing, too, made her unique among her sex.

Unquestionably, he was driven by the challenge she presented. Not only did his competitive nature compel him to try to win the battle of wills between them, but having her so near, yet untouchable, was a sweet, sexual hell that roused his every primal male instinct.

But what he felt went far deeper than mere competitiveness or lust. Without realizing it, he’d become caught up in desire. The desire to claim her fully as his.

He was playing with fire, he knew, but never before had he been so willing to be burned.

Nick’s mouth twisted in a dark smile. His friends and family would be amazed to find him so enamored of a woman—certainly of his own wife. But whether he wanted Aurora so intensely because she’d bewitched him or because she continued to deny him, he was less inclined than ever simply to walk away.

What had begun as a practical resolve to fulfill an obligation to his father and make the best of an unwanted marriage had somehow become a vital need. The more he came to know Aurora, the more certain he was that he wanted her for his wife.

He wasn’t wrong about her. She had a wild spirit inside her that longed to be free. Her exquisite ministrations earlier in the park had proven that. Her momentary daring had startled and delighted him, giving him a savage release that had left him temporarily sated.

His triumph had been short-lived, though.

Remembering, Nicholas cursed. To see her retreat back into her self-protective cocoon afterward had infuriated him. He had wanted to shake some sense into her. And when she had spoken so tenderly of her love for her late betrothed, he had wanted to hit something.

Fierce possessiveness flooded Nick at the memory.
He was jealous of a dead man.
Her idolization of the late, great Geoffrey, Lord March, was enraging. But until she got over her memories of March, she would never be able to move on with her life…or give herself freely to anyone else. To him.