Happiness. He was feeling happiness for the first time since his childhood. All because of Raven.

His loneliness had vanished, while his house had taken on new life in her enchanting presence. Her uniqueness was amazing, Kell thought, breathing in the fragrance of her midnight hair. Sparring with her was more exhilarating than making love to other women, and making love to her was…incredible.

He didn’t know how many lovers he’d had in his lifetime, but he knew that the way he’d felt with them was nothing compared to what he felt now. This sense of perfection. Of completeness. Raven made him feel joy, as if he would explode with it if she merely smiled at him.

He rubbed his knuckles softly against her bare arm, slowly savoring the silken texture of her skin. He hadn’t meant to make love to her this afternoon, at least not with such violence. But hot need had welled up in him the instant he’d touched her-and fierce male triumph had flooded him when she’d responded so eagerly. Her soft moans of arousal had nearly driven him mad. Even now, after a night of lusty passion, he wanted to take her again.

He was caught in the heat of his own desires, he knew…and something more. Is it love?

The thought startled him. When an accusing image of Sean rose up to taunt him, he pushed the damning thought away. His loyalty to his brother had nothing to do with his feelings for Raven.

So what did he feel for her?

He wanted more than just a taste of Raven. He wanted to consume her, totally, absolutely, utterly. Desire for her burned like a fever. She was beautiful, tantalizing, everything he wanted in this world. But just as strong as physical desire was the need to be with her, to laugh and fight with her, to cradle her in his arms, to protect her, to make her happy, to know happiness with her…

The want that rose up in him was so intense he had to shut his eyes.

Love. Was that the name for the overpowering feeling that was swamping him? The emotion he hadn’t thought he needed?

Kell sucked in a ragged breath, recognizing the truth. He loved her. The realization was frightening, exhilarating, unreal. He had lost the battle with himself.

Yet Raven was still fighting the battle. Even clasped against his heart, she still kept herself apart. She was too afraid of him. Afraid of giving herself, of losing herself, of loving.

Just then she stirred in her sleep, making him excruciatingly aware of her nakedness, of her ripe buttocks pressing against his loins. His longing was so sharp he had to clench his teeth. How could he still be this aroused after thoroughly sating himself?

Even as he swore a low oath, he gave in to his hunger. Shaping his palm to her feminine curves, he stroked her hip, then slid his hand around to her flat belly and lower…finding the warm, dewy cleft of her womanhood, plying her till he felt the sleek moisture that proclaimed her desire.

She still slept as, from behind, he slipped his arousal between her thighs; yet when he pushed himself into the yielding softness of her body, she stirred awake with a moan and pressed back against him eagerly.

Kell gave a rough sigh of pleasure and slid himself deeper into the hot, wet, incredibly tight clasp of her, his rhythm slow and tender, sheathing and drawing away until it became sweet, ecstatic torture for them both.

In only moments, though, the pleasure became too fierce to be borne. Kell shuddered, his tenderness giving way to savage demand. Rocking his hips, he drove her to a trembling climax before he found his own release, convulsing as his seed spurted from his body, filling her.

Holding her shaking body in the aftermath, he buried his face in her hair. He had met his match; he knew it without a doubt. But it remained to convince Raven of that.

Thus far their relationship had been purely carnal, based only on satisfying their mutual sexual needs. He had stirred her heart’s hidden passion, he suspected, but if they were to have a true marriage, he would have to overcome Raven’s fear of love. He would have to show her that loving him didn’t mean losing herself.

As the final ripples of passion faded, she eased away and turned over in his arms, sleepily lifting her face to his. Her mouth was warm and soft, pliant and willing-and there was such sweetness in her kiss, it sent shock waves all the way to his heart. Gathering her close, Kell returned her kiss with tender fervor, treasuring Raven’s gentle sigh of repletion when she curled her arm around his neck and nestled her head on his shoulder.

And as he lay there with her, wrapped in the night shadows of her hair, he made a silent vow. Someday they would be husband and wife in truth. If it took to the end of his days, he would convince Raven to let herself love him.

A welcome thaw put an end to the Frost Fair shortly after their visit, but that day proved to be a pivotal turning point in her marriage. To Raven’s dismay, Kell began spending his nights in her bedchamber. He would come home late from his club and join her in bed, rousing her from sleep and stirring her to new heights of passionate abandon.

He shared her company during the days as well. She often found Kell still at the breakfast table, reading the morning papers, when she returned from her rides in the park. He provided her escort to the various social events she chose to attend. And occasionally he even invited her to join him at the club.

Raven found herself struggling desperately against her own awakened desires. Kell filled her with ecstasy and impossible longings, ruling her thoughts, waking or sleeping. She wanted to touch him a hundred times a day.

Even when she sought refuge in her fantasies, he foiled her. It had been so long since she had indulged in daydreams of her pirate lover that when she tried to conjure up his image, all she could visualize was Kell.

Her fantasy lover had become Kell in the flesh.

The realization that she was so vulnerable to him frightened her. But she had never before been subjected to a Kell bent on seduction, and she could summon little resistance to his determined charm. He seemed to be laying siege to her heart, tearing away the walls of her defenses, stone by stone.

Her defenses crumbled even more one day toward the end of February. They had just finished breakfasting when Kell asked her to join him in his study.

Upon inspecting the first document he handed her, Raven realized it was the deed to an estate. The second document was a copy of letters patent for a barony.

“My lady Frayne,” Kell murmured, giving her a graceful bow.

She gazed at him in bewilderment. “I don’t understand.”

“We are now Baron and Baroness Frayne. You wanted to be wed to a gentleman of rank, and I managed to accommodate your wish.”

“But…how?”

“It took less effort than I expected,” Kell explained, his mouth curling cynically. “Dare was right. The Regent’s coffers are so straitened that he leapt at my offer of financial aid. Subsequently I purchased an estate in the wilds of Northumberland, and now I have the title of baron to go with it.”

Raven shook her head in amazement, still not quite believing. Kell was now Lord Frayne and she was his lady? His generous gesture must have cost him a fortune-and he had made the effort for her sake, even though he despised such things as rank and class distinctions and aristocratic privilege.

“The ton will undoubtedly fawn over us now,” she said slowly, “but I know how much you dislike the trappings of society. You shouldn’t be required to assume a title if you don’t care to.”

He shrugged. “It is only a term of address, as far as I’m concerned. It doesn’t change who I am.”

“I suppose it does not change who I am, either,” Raven added, her tone thoughtful. “This does not make me a genuine lady. I will always be a bastard.”

Raising an eyebrow, Kell surveyed her levelly. “Does it really matter a damn who your father was or wasn’t?” When she didn’t reply, he went on. “I regret that baroness is not as illustrious a title as duchess, but I hoped it might serve to satisfy your vow to your mother.”

Raven flashed a tremulous smile. He was right, of course. The title itself wasn’t as important as what it represented; she could indeed keep the promise she had made to her mother.

She felt her eyes burn with tears. “Kell…I don’t know how to thank you. My mother would have cherished this.”

His own smile was wry. “My mother would have been pleased as well. She was never one for retribution, but she would have enjoyed watching her son become a lord after all the slights she endured because of her modest origins. I wish she were alive to see it.”

Raven heard the sorrow in his voice and realized it was a measure of how far they had come that Kell let her see his pain rather than try to conceal it from her.

Raven turned away to hide her dismay at another realization. She knew with frightening clarity that if she let herself, she could love Kell.

I can’t fall in love with him, she murmured fiercely to herself. Loving Kell would be reckless, foolish, mad. He had made it abundantly clear he wanted nothing but her body. He wasn’t the kind of man to surrender his heart in undying passion, especially to the woman he’d been compelled to offer his name in marriage.

Losing control of her own heart could be utterly disastrous. She could spend the rest of her life yearning for what she could never have.

And yet she very much feared he would leave her no choice.

Just then she felt his presence behind her. When Kell slid his arms around her and bent to nuzzle her nape, Raven tensed, calling on every ounce of willpower she possessed not to respond.