The further shock of his warm fingers on the bare skin at her throat made her shiver with remembrance. Nicholas seemed aware of it as well, for his hands suddenly went still. He was looking at her breasts, she realized. Abruptly her nipples tightened and pushed against the bodice of her gown in twin, hard peaks.
Her breathing faltered as his heated gaze lifted to her face. "I didn't dream it – how beautiful you are." His voice had fallen to a husky whisper.
Aurora's lips parted, but no sound came out.
Then Nicholas drew an unsteady breath of his own and released her. To her relief, he rose and went to a side table, where he poured her a brandy.
Not wanting to remain in such a vulnerable position, Aurora sat up and smoothed her disheveled clothing. When he returned, Nicholas settled on the sofa beside her and ordered her to drink.
Obediently she took a sip of brandy. The fiery liquor burned her throat, but at least her senses stopped swimming.
"I'm sorry to behave like such a weakling. It's just that…"
"I have come as such a shock?"
"Yes." She frowned, searching his face. "It has been months, Nicholas. Why did I hear nothing of your being alive? I cannot believe Percy never wrote me – "
"I doubt he knew at first. The British navy presumed me drowned at sea, and I thought it best to encourage their belief. It's possible Percy heard rumors later and wrote to warn you, but a letter could have gone astray. Mail is often one of the casualties of war."
Reminded of the deception Nicholas had perpetrated with her cousin, Aurora felt a spark of renewed anger surge through her. He had deliberately made her think him dead, letting her weep over his grave. Letting her grieve for him for months…
"You might have warned me yourself," she said, fire edging her tone. "How could you put me through that – "
"I'm sorry, Aurora. Perhaps I should have tried to get word to you, but the war made it difficult. And at the time I was rather occupied trying to survive."
Aurora shook her head. How could she be angry with Nicholas when he was really, truly alive? Her ire fled as swiftly as it had been born, replaced by a fierce swell of joy. She gazed up at him searchingly, not knowing even where to begin with her countless questions.
Nicholas seemed able to read her mind. "You're curious to know how I escaped hanging?"
"Yes, of course. How did you manage it?"
"I jumped ship during a storm. I told you Madsen changed his mind about carrying out my death sentence and instead had me sent to naval headquarters at Barbados. I was being conveyed there in a brig when a gale blew up. The wind broke the mainmast and left us floundering in the water."
Aurora remembered the fierce storm that had prevented her own departure from St. Kitts the day Nicholas died – or the day she thought he had died.
"In the commotion, I managed to break my chains and dove overboard. I wasn't followed. No one believed I could survive in those seas, and it was over half a mile to shore. I was presumed dead."
"How incredible… You're alive because the weather turned violent?"
His smile was ironic. "I know. But it's you I owe my life to, siren. Our marriage delayed my execution long enough for fate to shift in my favor."
Aurora bit her lip, recalling anew the long months of sorrow when she had thought him dead. "I wish I had known you were alive. It would have saved me countless hours of grief."
"Did you grieve for me, Aurora?"
"Yes, of course. You were my husband."
There was a short pause. "I still am."
She drew a sharp breath as the import of his comment sank in. Nicholas was still her husband. They were still wed. Merciful heaven…
"In fact," Nicholas added in a low voice, "that's the reason I am here in England. I have a wife here. You."
Once again shock held her speechless. She stared at him, her mind reeling.
"I might have come sooner," he continued, "but it took me weeks to make my way to safety and locate my ship. Then it took more time to arrange for my journey here. Because of the war, I had to commandeer another of my cousin Wycliff's ships and outfit it for the voyage. And I had to hire a British crew with papers that would gain them entry into Britain."
"Entry…" Alarmed, she reached out to grasp his hand. "My God, you can't be seen in England. You're an escaped prisoner – "
"Easy, sweeting. I already have been seen. I'm here in disguise. As you can see, I dyed my hair. And I've assumed the identity of my American cousin, Brandon Deverill. We bear a strong resemblance, and I don't think he would oppose my impersonation. Brand has his own shipping firm in Boston, and at the moment he is rather occupied with the war."
Aurora's eyes widened. "The war! Nicholas, if your cousin is American, then he wouldn't be welcome here in Britain."
"He would if he were a British loyalist, which is what I'm claiming to be. There are hundreds – perhaps thousands – of loyalists who object to the war and who have sought refuge on British soil, so my story is not at all unusual. I imagine Brand might protest that small detail of my deception, since he despises you Brits after what your government has done to Boston shipping. But I'm sacrificing his reputation for a good cause."
"But… if you are found out, you could be hanged. At the very least you would be arrested."
"Most definitely, but I don't intend to be found out." His teeth flashed in an amused smile – an amusement that Aurora could not share. His nonchalance only rekindled her anger.
"You cannot possibly think to remain in England, Nicholas. Don't you understand? You will be killed."
"I am rather hard to kill, angel. This wasn't the first time I've escaped death by a whisker."
She could well imagine he had faced death before and no doubt enjoyed it. His casualness made her furious, as did his audacity. He had even come to the ball dressed as the infamous Captain Saber, a foolhardy risk that incensed her.
Aurora stared at him, torn between wrath and dismay. Devoid of gentlemanly trappings in his rakish pirate's garb, Nicholas looked the picture of a brazen adventurer, daring fate and laughing in the teeth of danger. Yet Aurora shuddered at the thought of what would happen if he were discovered.
"I am serious, you cannot stay," she pleaded.
"So am I – and I cannot leave just yet. Not when I came all this way just to see you."
"Well, you have seen me, so you may go."
"But we have a dilemma to resolve, sweetheart."
"Dilemma?"
He fixed her with his intense gaze. "What to do about our marriage."
Marriage. An unexpected sense of panic rose up in her. She was overjoyed to know Nicholas was alive, but it didn't necessarily follow that she was pleased to have him for her husband. His presence complicated matters dreadfully – especially since he couldn't even show his face without risking capture and death. Marriage to him would turn her life upside down, would shatter all her hard-won equanimity, would destroy the peace she had finally found. His very nearness sent her senses reeling -
Just then they heard laughter in the hall, and a couple walked past the library door. Aurora froze, deathly afraid Nicholas would be recognized.
"You must go," she whispered fiercely when the laughter died away. "Someone might see you. Might see us and perceive your disguise."
"I told you, being seen doesn't concern me."
"It does me."
"That is quite evident, faintheart."
"Nicholas…!" she said, losing patience.
"Perhaps you're right. A ball is no place for such a serious discussion. But we still need to talk about our marriage."
"Yes, of course. But not now."
"Very well, later." He raised her fingers to his lips and brushed a light kiss there. "I will find you after the ball."
When Aurora nervously withdrew her hand, he reached up to touch her cheek. She shivered with the same warm shimmering sensation his touch always aroused in her. The dark awareness in his eyes told her clearly he knew how he affected her.
She watched as he replaced his eye patch and once more became the dashing buccaneer. He went to the door then, and gave her a final lingering glance before disappearing from the room.
Aurora remained where she was, still feeling the overwhelming impact of his presence, still reeling from his startling revelation.
Her notorious husband of one night was very much alive. And she had no earthly idea what to do about it.
Chapter Eight
His kiss, his slightest caress, left me breathless and trembling .
Nicholas frowned as he sat in the darkened carriage, waiting for his wife to appear. Wife. It wasn't a term that sat easily with him. He had escaped hanging, only to find himself fettered by chains of matrimony.
Apparently he wasn't the only one averse to such chains. Lady Aurora hadn't seemed at all eager to acknowledge the legal bond they'd formed under admittedly desperate circumstances. His return had shocked her, but she was clearly more discomfited by the thought of being tied to him for life.
He was just as unnerved.
He'd frankly been tempted to ignore that major complication in his life. He could simply have remained in America and avoided dealing with the issue of his marriage, perhaps for years to come. And yet his conscience hadn't allowed it. For too long he'd evaded his familial responsibilities, Nick reflected. It was more than time to satisfy his obligations, regardless of his own personal desires.
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