Nicole Jordan - The Passion

"Very well, my lady. Shall I turn up the lamp?"

"No, thank you. Please, seek your own bed. I won't require you this evening."

The maidservant curtsied and withdrew. Carefully bolting the door, Aurora turned around, her eyes searching the dim room. Nicholas sat in the shadows in the far corner, watching her.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, wondering for the thousandth time how she would ever tell him of her decision.

"So you spoke to him," he said finally, breaking the tense silence.

Slowly she nodded, struggling against the flood of tightness that closed around her throat. "Yes. Geoffrey still wants me for his wife."

For the span of several heartbeats, Nicholas made no reply. He simply watched her, his eyes dark and intense.

"I can't leave him, Nicholas. He has been hurt enough."

His voice was low and flat when he ventured to speak. "You want to sever our marriage."

"I… I have no choice. I cannot hurt him more than he has already been hurt. He has lost his arm, Nicholas. Can you imagine what it would be like to suffer such a fate? Geoffrey needs me to stand by him."

Time pulsed between them, dark and endless.

"What about your needs, Aurora?" Nicholas asked at last. "What of mine?"

Aurora shook her head. "My needs can't be allowed to matter. As for yours… You are far stronger than Geoffrey is."

Nicholas gave a mirthless laugh.

"I have known Geoffrey all my life, Nicholas," she said pleadingly, trying to make him understand. "He is part of my past… part of me…"

"And you love him." The words were stark, bleak.

She lowered her gaze. "I cannot abandon him. Can you not see that?"

"I see that you're trying to protect him. You're set on protecting everyone but yourself."

Hearing the sudden harshness of his tone, Aurora wrapped her arms around herself, as if to defend herself against his recriminations.

After a moment Nicholas drew a slow breath. "What do you want me to do?"

"I… I want you to try and seek an annulment."

He was silent and completely still. She moved closer, searching his expression in the shadows. He stared back at her, his face torn with a raw and agonizing emotion that mirrored her own.

"Very well," he said finally. "I'll try."

"You will try?"

"To have our marriage annulled. So you can be free to wed your true love."

She had expected fierce resistance, not this quiet resignation. Perhaps he didn't love her as much as he'd claimed. Despair coursed through Aurora at the thought.

"You will forget me in time, Nicholas," she said, aching. "You will find someone who can be the wife you want."

"You think so?"

He lunged to his feet suddenly, no longer resigned. Covering the short distance between them, he reached for her, his hands closing on her shoulders. His velvet grasp was inescapable as he held her in a soft, dangerous embrace. "You think I could ever forget you, sweetheart? That I could forget what we shared?"

"It was just passion…"

"No. It was far more." His eyes blazed. "I love you, Aurora. Understand that. Taste it, breathe it…"

Without warning his mouth came down on hers. His kiss was fierce, demanding, harsh, as if to punish her. She was struggling for breath before he finally ended it.

When he drew back, the dark hunger in his eyes held a power and starkness that both frightened and compelled her.

She read the intent there, even before he swung her into his arms and carried her to the bed, letting her down none too gently.

Aurora tried to sit up but found herself pinned by his strong body. "Nicholas… we can't do this."

"We can." His whisper was wild and low. "You need to remember what you are giving up."

Flattening his hand alongside her head, he held himself above her, staring down. His eyes were ablaze with angry fire, consuming fire. The gentleness she knew in him was gone.

"Can your precious Geoffrey make you feel what I do?" he demanded. Deliberately he reached beneath her skirts and swept his palm along her bare thigh. "Can he set your blood on fire with just a touch? Can he make your nipples tighten, your skin flush? Can he make you grow wet… like this…?"

He found the center of her desire, hot and throbbing.

When he slid his finger into her, she gasped, straining against him.

It was all the invitation Nicholas needed. His eyes were fierce, naked in intent, as he fumbled with the buttons of his breeches.

"Nicholas…"

He kissed her again, to silence her protest. He had to make her feel the desire raking through his body, his fierce need.

He couldn't have anticipated the explosion of passion he unleashed from her. She gripped his head, her hands clutching his hair as she tried to draw his mouth closer, his tongue deeper.

When she frantically welcomed his devouring kiss, he shoved her skirts to her waist and moved over her. He could feel the pulse of fire lash through her as he sank into her, hard, deep, claiming her in a savage stroke of hunger.

It was like sliding into fire. She arched wildly beneath him and moaned into his mouth, a panicky, anguished sound of need. A sound that would haunt him forever.

Shuddering, he drove into her, feverish with intensity. She came almost at once, convulsing in his arms with a wild cry. Aurora sobbed his name as with one last strong plunge the peak burst on him, helplessly, savagely.

In the heated aftermath, the tortured sounds of their breathing filled the quiet room. Nicholas lay buried inside her, wondering if she could feel the desperation pulsing in hot waves through his body. He pressed his face into her shoulder, fighting the wildness inside him, the violent yearning.

Finally he lifted his head. "Don't do this, Aurora," he whispered, his voice raw and cracked.

Stirring, she opened her eyes to gaze back at him in agony. "I… have no choice."

He could see the torment in her eyes. She truly believed she was making the right decision. And perhaps she was.

He looked at her, aching and empty. He had lost.

Nicholas closed his eyes on the anguish and helplessness inside him. A man couldn't force love. He couldn't command a heart's surrender by sheer force of will.

Not trusting himself to speak, he rose from the bed and adjusted his clothing.

Grieving, Aurora remained totally still. Nicholas's vulnerability was infinitely more powerful than his anger. There was such bleakness in his face, she wanted to weep.

She sat up slowly, drawing her skirts down over her naked limbs. She was trembling.

"Nicholas… I am sorry," she whispered.

His dark eyes met hers. "I know."

Reaching for her, he cupped her face in his palms. He stood looking down at her for a long moment before slowly bending. When his lips brushed hers, heartbreakingly gentle, anguish clawed inside her.

Then he stepped back and drew a shuddering breath, as if fighting for control. His voice had no inflection when he spoke. "I intend to sail with the tide tomorrow night. If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

He turned and went to the window. A moment later, the shadows covered him and there was silence.

Aurora pressed her knuckles to her mouth and bit down hard. The pain was so raw, she felt as if a knife had sliced through her heart.

He was truly gone. She had sent him away.

Aurora covered her face with her hands and wept.

It is true that passion of the flesh can beget passion of the heart. I am living proof.

Aurora stared blindly at Lady March's supper invitation. The countess begged Aurora to attend their private family gathering that evening, although it would entail bending the strict rules of mourning. She would be performing an act of Christian mercy, Lady March wrote, to help ease Geoffrey's reentry into society.

It would also permit them to show their support for Aurora during this trying period in her life, until her sham of a marriage was dissolved. Apparently the countess still wanted Aurora as her daughter.

Numbly Aurora set down the invitation and glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantel. Seven o'clock. The engagement was for eight. She should bestir herself to dress, and yet she didn't know if she could bear to see Geoffrey and his mother this evening. If she could find the willpower to feign a cheerful facade when her heart was breaking. In a few hours Nicholas would set sail without her.

A fresh wave of bleakness washed over her, leaving her cold, empty.

Despairing, she picked up the journal and turned to a well-worn page – the death of Desiree's prince.

My tears fall on your pale face as the lifeblood drains from your once powerful body. In desperation, I kiss your waxen lips, willing you to live. But my efforts are futile. Hopeless.

You open your eyes, your dark gaze so full of pain and tenderness. No tears, you whisper hoarsely. Your tears are torment.

But what of my torment? My heart is ripping from my chest. Dear God, I cannot bear it.

Your trembling hand, so weak now, rises to caress my face. Be free, my beautiful Desiree.

With your last breath, you give me the freedom I yearned for. But merciful heaven, that price is far, far too dear…

Aurora swallowed the burning ache of her own tears. Desiree had realized too late that freedom was nothing compared to love -