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.
And in all honor, he couldn't simply dismiss the existence of a wife… or what he owed Aurora.
It was solely because of her that he was even alive. She'd made it possible for him to honor his solemn oath to his father, which had meant more to him than whether he lived or died. And she'd kept her promise to care for his sister, seeing Raven successfully launched into society. Raven professed to be essentially satisfied with her new life, despite her disdainful, haughty relatives, and claimed Aurora had not only made her stay bearable, but had become a dear friend as well.
He couldn't forget Aurora's sacrifice or pretend it had never happened. Nor would it be fair to her – to either of them – to leave such a volatile powder keg primed to blow up in their faces at some future date.
They were still wed. No matter that necessity had compelled him to make her his wife. The vows they had spoken were real. As was the night of passion they had shared. The memory of it haunted Nicholas mercilessly.
For a moment his eyes narrowed. He'd had ample time during the past four months to convince himself that the golden-haired siren he remembered so vividly was merely a condemned prisoner's fantasy. That the bond he'd felt that night was a primal need for intimacy brought on by desperation. No woman could possibly be as desirable as recollection painted Aurora Demming.
Tonight, however, had proved him wrong. Her cool, regal beauty was as stunning as he remembered, his attraction to her just as intense. Seeing her again was like taking a fist to the gut.
The temptation she presented was very real, if their first encounter was anything to judge by. Just touching her had made him hard in an instant, made him crave the wild sweetness of her body beneath him…
Nicholas tightened his jaw, forcibly reining in his lustful urges. He hadn't expected Lady Aurora to be so set against acknowledging their marriage. She was bound to resist if he tried to claim her as his wife. Yet until that issue was settled between them, he had no business contemplating taking her to bed. He had no business even touching her.
Despite the gaiety of the masquerade, Aurora felt no joy for the remainder of the evening, only dismay and uncertainty and an ever-mounting tension. Nicholas had promised to seek her out after the ball, but she had yet to recover from the shock of seeing him, let alone compose herself enough to hold a rational discussion about their marital status. She could only hope for a reprieve until she'd had time for reflection.
Eager to take an early leave, she found Raven to say good night. They had no opportunity, however, to speak privately about Nicholas's remarkable return from the dead – and barely a moment to exchange promises to meet tomorrow for their usual morning ride – before Raven was whisked away by another dance partner.
By coincidence, Aurora encountered Lord Clune as she prepared to descend the grand staircase to the front door. When he offered to escort her to her carriage, she demurred politely. "You needn't trouble yourself, my lord."
"It is no trouble to enjoy the company of such a beautiful lady."
Aurora knew she should rebuff his casual flattery, but she was too distracted even to respond.
The street was crowded with any manner of vehicles, but the servants leaped to do the earl's bidding, and Aurora's carriage was summoned in short order.
"I have an early engagement tomorrow," Clune said as he handed her into the barouche, "but I hope to see you some morning in the park."
"Very well, Lord Clune," Aurora replied, just wishing to be rid of him.
"Sweet dreams, my dear."
She scarcely heard his courteous behest, for as the door closed behind her, a strong hand reached out to support her elbow and settle her on the seat.
Aurora bit back a gasp, while her heart rose to her throat. In the dim interior she could make out a shadowy figure beside her. Nicholas.
She could only stare as the carriage began to move forward. She had not dreamed him. He was truly the man she had wed, and the same sensations quivered through her at his nearness, just as powerful as they'd been four months ago.
His tone, however, lacked any of its previous warmth when he spoke. "Would you care to tell me what that was about?"
"About?" Aurora said rather breathlessly.
"Clune's pursuit of you."
"He is not pursuing me."
Nicholas reached toward her and removed her silver mask, evidently wanting to see her face. "You expect me to believe he feels no interest in you?"
Taken aback by his tone, she gazed at Nicholas warily. "He was simply being kind, accompanying me to my carriage."
"And you are so very appreciative of his kindness." His voice held a hard edge of what could be anger. "Have you forgotten your husband so soon, Aurora?"
"I never forgot you," she replied earnestly.
"No? You are hardly the picture of the grieving widow. Within four months of my supposed death, my lovely widow is attending masquerades and making assignations with noted rakehells."