Then union, as natural as breathing. An intimate soreness was drowned by her arousal, enhancing the pleasure that was almost pain. The poignancy of mutual comfort. Then raw, blinding madness swept her up until she shattered. She clawed at him, her body convulsing as he plunged into her again and again.

Afterward they lay silently in each other's arms, drained. She was empty of everything but a mild sense of wonder and a deep contentment that filled every cell of her body and every haunted corner of her mind. For the first time since she and Kira had gone their separate ways, she felt whole.

It was a dangerous thought, one she quickly suppressed. Contentment was safer. Tenderly she stroked the small of his back. She had not known that a man's body could be so beautiful, just as she had never understood how a woman could throw away her reputation and her future for the sake of passion. It was still a foolish thing to do, but heaven help her, she did understand.

Lucien eased his weight down beside her, saying huskily, "This could become addictive."

She smiled a little, understanding the need to speak lightly of something so immense.

Absently, he twined her hair around his forefinger. "We're going to have to get married, you know."

His words were like a blast of icy water in the face. "What!" She would have jerked upright in bed if his arm had not held her down. "You're mad!"

"Not in the least," he said calmly. "You know the rules as well as I do. When a gentleman compromises a lady, only his name will mend the damage. Hence, I am offering you mine."

Struggling to collect her chaotic thoughts, she asked, "Would you be saying this if I were Kristine?"

"The situation would be different. Your sister chose to turn her back on convention. You did not-you've been living an entirely respectable life with your aunt." He smiled and traced the edge of her ear with a fingertip. "You said yourself that a gentleman does not treat a lady the same as an actress. In spite of our irregular activities, you are certainly a lady, and I am nominally a gentleman. Ergo, marriage."

In spite of his light manner, she knew that he was speaking in dead earnest. She sensed he had a need to protect others, particularly women, that was rooted in his failure to save his sister. That was not, she suspected, a good basis for marriage.

The candlelight played over his muscular body and made a silver halo of his hair. He was glorious, a naked, indecently masculine angel who had abandoned heaven so that he could master the arts of earthly sensuality. What would it be like to be his wife, to experience passion and intimacy again and again?

It was a dangerously seductive vision. Grasping for rationality, she said, "You're not very convincing as a defender of conventional morality, Lucien. You don't believe in society's rules, and you certainly don't always follow them."

"I might not always follow the rules," he admitted, "but I do believe in them. Social condemnation is very real-the lives of rulebreakers are wrecked every day. I'm not going to let you be ruined because I heedlessly took your virginity."

"At heart I'm as unconventional as Kira-I've simply lacked her courage and her opportunities," she said tartly. "What happened tonight was every bit as much my doing as yours, so you needn't sacrifice yourself on the altar of gentlemanly honor."

He shrugged. "It would be no great sacrifice. As my female relations point out frequently, it's high time I married, and you are an entirely eligible bride." His hand skimmed over her belly, the warm palm coming to rest on the silky curls between her thighs. "Besides, there is always the possibility of a child. That is one consequence that could not be easily concealed."

To bear his child… The idea was so alarmingly attractive that it was well-nigh irresistible. "The chance of that happening after a single night is remote," she said firmly. "Time enough to worry if it happens."

As he opened his mouth to continue the argument, she mentally reached out to Kira, seeking the strength to refuse Lucien again.

Kira wasn't there.

Chapter 25

Horror blazed through her. She went rigid. "Kira!"

"What's wrong?" Lucien said sharply.

"I can't find Kira!" she gasped, feeling as if she was suffocating. "I reached for her, and she isn't there."

His eyes molten with intensity, Lucien caught her gaze and clamped his palms to her temples, his deep strength flowing through her. "Close your eyes, relax, and breathe deeply," he ordered. "One. Two. Three. Breathe, dammit! One-two-three-four-five…"

She forced herself to follow his rhythm. When her breath had steadied, he said softly, "Try again."

Frantically she delved inward, seeking the life essence that was as familiar as her own. With a relief as disabling as her earlier fear, she located the gossamer bond that connected her with her twin. It pulsed strong and steady. "She's all right," Kit whispered brokenly. "Nothing has happened to her."

"Thank God." Lucien tucked the covers around her shivering body, then pulled her against his own warmth.

She opened her eyes and saw in his face how deep his concern had been. Like no one else she had ever met, he was capable of understanding the terror she had just endured.

He said soberly, "I think we should get married as soon as possible. It will make it easier to search for Kira."

"No, Lucien," she said in the tone her sister would have recognized as immovable. "Don't you see? What just happened was because passion flooded my senses. I can't risk that happening again. You said yourself that my connection with Kira is essential for finding her. If we become lovers, I may lose that."

"I was talking about marriage, not an affair," he pointed out, his face unreadable.

"Marriage would be even worse." She closed her eyes, not daring to look at him. "Lucien, I can't lie with you again, or think about the future, as long as Kira's life is in danger." Her voice broke. "And if she dies, I might not have a future, because I can't imagine living in a world bereft of her."

"One learns how to endure," he said in a voice that wasn't quite cool enough to mask the pain. "But I understand your point. Very well, all marriage plans are postponed until we've found your sister. But I warn you, when the time comes, I don't intend to take no for an answer."

She smiled at him wryly. "After you've had time to think it over, I'm sure you'll recover from your attack of gentlemanliness. I'm an eccentric bluestocking, you know, not at all suited to be countess to a dashing man about town like you."

"In other words you're afraid I'm too frivolous to tolerate your career as a political and social writer. Actually, that's one of your charms," he remarked. "Marrying a woman who wears as many different faces as you would be like having a whole harem in one wife. There would never be a dull moment. And I agree with most of your opinions, except when you're being deliberately provocative."

She stared at him, off balance again. "What do you mean?"

"I didn't quite believe that Kristine was L. J. Knight, but such work suits Kathryn right down to the ground." His mouth quirked up. "Am I wrong?"

"No," she said ruefully. "Everything I said about being a journalist was true. Knight was my mother's maiden name. I'm beginning to think that you're never wrong."

"This from the woman who tied me in knots for weeks."

She studied his face, again feeling the sense of a current running between them. She had always thought there was a discrepancy between his public face and his real self, and now she was certain. "You're not the idle gentleman you pretend to be, are you? I should have realized earlier that the way you observe and analyze isn't casual at all. What is your purpose?"

It was his turn to look off-balance. "I had the vain hope that you might not work that out," he said after a slight pause. "Suffice it to say that the war with France made information valuable, so I've learned to pay attention and pass on material that might be of interest to the government."

"If you say so," she said skeptically. "I would have thought it more likely that you're some sort of master spy who hides behind a facade of frivolity."

His eyes became greener. Another person might not have noticed, but to Kit it was proof positive that her guess had hit the mark. "So that's why you wanted to become a Hellion," she said triumphantly. "It explains a great deal."

"Peace, woman." He gave a sigh of comic defeat. "I'm going to have to confess, aren't I?"

"I think it only fair. After all, tonight my life has been examined to a fare-thee-well."

"There's no official name for my position, but I've been quietly involved in intelligence work ever since I left Oxford. A friend once said that I'm like a spider sitting in the middle of a vast web, munching on reports that come from all over Europe."

"You don't look like a spider. Nowhere near enough legs."

He grinned. "I sometimes look into domestic matters when there are international implications. In this case, I have reason to believe that one of the Hellions has been a French spy for years. With rumors that Napoleon might try to seize power again, it's particularly important to stop the fellow. So far, though, I've had no success." He scowled ferociously and slid his hand under the blanket so he could caress her breast. "Most of my attention has been taken up by a certain maddening female."

She laughed, then caught her breath when he rolled her nipple between thumb and forefinger. Unhappily, she caught his hand and lifted it out from under the blanket. "Don't, Lucien. Passion is a luxury I can't afford just now. The connection between Kira and me is not as strong as when we were younger, and I daren't do anything that might weaken it further."