Nicole Jordan - The Passion

Nicholas drew a steadying breath. This wasn't the right moment, but he would have to press the issue, and soon.

His price was too dear: he demanded my heart.

Aurora stared without seeing at an open page of the journal. She sat alone on a stone bench within the walled courtyard, shaded by towering, scarlet-blossomed rhododendrons, yet her thoughts were far away, in another time and place. The quiet ripple of the fountain in the shallow reflecting pool serenaded her along with the echo of Desiree's words written nearly a century before.

How I ache with the struggle in my heart and the irrevocable choice he has given me. I long for freedom; I yearn to escape this strange, exotic world and return to the familiar, genteel life I once knew. Yet the chains of passion binding me are as strong as my yearning.

What am I to do? What future is there here for me? He can never wed me, not if he means to survive the political intrigues of the Turkish court. Acknowledging his love for a foreign woman, a Christian no less, would be viewed as fatally weak. I can remain only as his concubine, one of many. The children born of my body would belong to his savage world, never mine.

And love can so easily fade, passion more swiftly still. He desires me now, yet what of five years from now, or ten, or thirty? Will I still be beautiful in his eyes when my flesh has lost its firmness, when my white skin its smoothness, when younger beauties seek to gain his affections? He claims so… but can I believe professions made in the magical heat of passion? Can I believe the love that burns in his dark eyes?

He says the choice is mine alone. Seeing my sadness in captivity, he has offered me the power to break my chains. He will set me free, if that is what I wish, because he desires my happiness above his own.

And so I struggle to decide what is truly in my heart. Do I grasp at this chance for freedom, making my escape, never to see him again, never to feel his sensual touch again? Could I bear to live without him? Or do I remain with him, a slave to passion, abandoning all thought of my former life, my family, my friends, my very life, to be with him for as long as he wants me?

Sweet heaven, I do not know.

Aurora shut her eyes, torn by conflict as Desiree had been. Like the Frenchwoman, she had an irrevocable choice to make: to keep her heart safe and avoid the pain of an impossible love. Or to risk an uncertain future with a magnificent man.

What am I to do? She could no longer fight her passion for Nicholas, or deny that her feelings for him were growing ever deeper. She trembled with the joy of being in his arms; his presence brought her desperate happiness. But to lose Nicholas after loving him would be devastating.

Even now it would be hard to let him go. Could she bear to live without him when he left England?

Aurora shook her head in despair, feeling as lost as Desiree had felt.

"Aurora?"

With a start, she glanced up to see Nicholas standing beside her.

Her stomach muscles clenched involuntarily. This was her last day with him in their secret paradise. Until.now they had mostly avoided the main issue between them – the matter of their marriage. But she could see in the solemn depths of his eyes that the time had come to face truths she was still not quite ready to face.

He sat beside her on the stone bench. "Did you come here to escape me?"

"Not really," she murmured, avoiding meeting his penetrating gaze. "I was merely thinking."

He took her hand, entwining his warm fingers with hers. "Thinking about the choice you have to make?"

"Yes."

"Whether you will come with me when I leave England."

"Yes."

"And have you reached a decision?"

"No… not yet." She raised her troubled gaze to his. "I've never been to America, Nicholas. I don't know a soul there."

"You know me."

"And what happens when you go off into the world seeking adventure?"

"I told you, I am done seeking adventure." His thumb stroked her palm absently. "Life with you would be adventurous enough. Each day with you seems fresh and new."

When she didn't answer, Nicholas smiled faintly. "There will be times I shall have to travel because of my shipping business, but I would like nothing more than to have you sail with me. If you prefer to remain home, though, you will have new friends to bear you company. I think you will like my mother and sisters, and I know they will love you. We could make it work, Aurora."

She searched his dark eyes. "I still find it hard to believe you would be willing to give up your freedom."

Nicholas shrugged. "Freedom is overrated, I've come to realize. There has never been anything in my life I cared enough about to make me want to give it up. Until you."

"You'll give it up until you tire of me."

He returned her gaze steadily. "That will never happen."

"How can you know?"

She heard him draw a measured breath. "Because… I've fallen in love with you."

Stunned, disbelieving, Aurora stared at him.

"It's true," Nicholas said with a crooked, masculine smile. "You captured my heart on the quay in St. Kitts. Only it took me some time to realize it."

"You don't really love me…" she breathed.

"No?" She watched his dark eyes turn very deep and soft. "How could I not love you after what you did for me? You saved my life, Aurora. You came to my rescue like an avenging angel, sparing me the brutal pleasure of my guards. You wed me at great risk to yourself, when you knew your father would be outraged. You've cared for Raven as if she were your own sister."

"Nicholas, you are confusing love with gratitude."

"No, sweeting. I'm not. From the very first, I've felt a bond with you that I've never experienced with any other woman." His voice was low, vibrant. "On our wedding night, it seemed as if we were joined in spirit as well as the flesh. The next morning, severing that bond… Sending you away was the hardest thing I've ever done. And afterward, when I knew I would live, you haunted my dreams. You stole my heart and left me aching with desire."

Her own heart wrenched at his singular admission. Could she possibly believe what Nicholas was saying? Did he truly love her? Or was he only telling her what he thought she wanted to hear, so that she would remain his wife?

"Nicholas," she said finally, "a marriage needs more than carnal desire to sustain it throughout the years."

"We have much more than that, sweetheart."

"We have passion, I cannot dispute that. But how long will that last? Passion can fade so easily."

He gazed down at their entwined fingers. "Or it can grow into love."

Aurora followed his gaze to their clasped hands, myriad emotions welling in her – want, hope, wonder, need, doubt.

He leaned his forehead against hers. "Be my wife, Aurora," he said, his voice soft.

"Nicholas…" she murmured. She wanted so much to believe him. "I… need more time."

After a moment he drew back. "I understand. You're not yet ready to commit yourself." He kissed her gently on the mouth and stood, releasing her hand. "You don't have to decide just yet. We'll return to London tomorrow, but it will take a few days to prepare my ship to sail."

"So soon?" she asked with a sharply indrawn breath.

His handsome face was a study in solemnity as he gazed down at her. "I'm afraid so." He hesitated. "I want you to come with me to America, Aurora, but I won't compel you. You would only resent me for it. You have to come willingly, because you want to be with me. With all my soul I hope your answer is yes."

He turned away then, leaving her to herself. Aurora watched him go, her gaze blurring, her heart torn.

Did she dare risk believing him? Or was Nicholas still trying to rescue her from her passionless existence, embellishing his arguments with tempting beguilements and promises of love in order to persuade her? How could she be certain what he felt for her was truly love? How could she even be certain of her own heart?

After a long moment, she glanced down at the jeweled book in her lap. Fresh tears stung her eyes as she remembered the Frenchwoman's fate in the journal. Desiree's prince had promised her raptures of love more precious than treasure, but in the end had given her only pain; the tale had ended tragically with the death of her prince.

Desiree had made her choice – to remain with her lover – but in so doing, had become his greatest vulnerability. Betrayed by the schemes of a jealous concubine, she was stolen from the palace harem by his fiercest enemy and carried off to a remote mountain fortress. The prince had mounted a long siege, determined to rescue her, but while he had killed her abductor, he was mortally wounded himself.

Desiree had wept tears of agony as her lover lay dying in her arms. Yet it was her anguished lament afterward that still rang in Aurora's mind.

Regret tastes like bitter poison on my tongue. Why, why did I ever let my self love you?

With trembling fingertips, Aurora reached up to wipe her tears away, wondering with a sharp sense of desperation if she was succumbing to the same malady.

A pale sliver of moonlight fell across the bed where Nick lay entwined with Aurora. He had never felt such a sense of rightness – the simple contentment of watching a woman sleep in his arms and knowing he wanted to be like this forever. He might be giving up his adventurous life, but loving her would be an even greater adventure. It would be enough.