"But my life is already sacrificed, is it not? It was the minute I learned who my abductor was."
"Sadly enough, that's true. Julian will deliver the stone, but he won't be receiving his bride in return."
Aurora swallowed. "How do you plan to kill me?"
"That, my dear, depends on you. As I said, I don't trust you. On the other hand, I'm not an excessively violent man. So if you behave during my two trips to Falmouth, if you attempt nothing foolish, I'll go the merciful route and simply leave you to your fate."
"Which means flinging me, bound and gagged, in an isolated cove where I'll either suffocate or starve. How generous."
"'Tis far more pleasant than the alternative, I assure you," Guillford said in a steely tone. "Because if you're difficult, if you make any stupid efforts to escape—including now—then I'll be forced to toss you over the edge of the cliff, to be dashed on the rocks below." He leaned forward, fingered one disheveled red-gold tress. "Which would be a terrible waste for one as beautiful as you."
"Don't touch me," Aurora said quietly, yanking away her hair and walking forward.
He followed close behind, his sardonic chuckle chilling her blood. "How principled you've suddenly become. And at such an odd time. We're discussing your death and you're worrying about your virtue. Curious indeed. Well, fear not. While the thought of having you is tempting, I'm far more interested in your money than I am in your body—beautiful or not. Just remember what I said. How you die is up to you."
Again Aurora paused, this time pivoting to face her adversary. "I could refuse to cooperate. After all, you've just told me I'm to die no matter what. Why should I not just remain here, insist you shoot me where I stand?"
"Because my bullet would only inflict great pain rather than death," Guillford returned, his mouth thinning with anger. "I'd make sure of that. In fact, I'd make sure you were fully conscious and alert when you plunged over the edge of the cliff. Tell me, Aurora, are you that brave?" He strode forward, gripping her face and forcing it around and down, until her gaze swept the ragged coastline. "Are you?"
Peering downward, Aurora felt bile rise in her throat. The entire section of cliffs upon which they stood jutted out over the water, angled into a drop that meant instant death. Far below, the currents rushed wildly about, crashing into jagged boulders, lapping against towering columns of stone that loomed on every side, menacing in their domination.
God help her, she was too afraid to die this way.
Raising her head, Aurora stared off into the distance, spying the faraway peaks defining the western tip of Cornwall. Land's End, she mused vaguely, glimmers of Mr. Scollard's legends filtering through her mind.
Oh, Mr. Scollard, how I need you now, she reflected wistfully, realizing for the first time that she might never see her old friend again. I need your wisdom. I need your faith. And dear God, I need Julian.
In that instant, her gaze was captured by a faint object situated on a tiny island just off the coast of Land's End. A lighthouse.
Graceful, tall, the stone structure brushed the newly lit skies with its presence, beckoning whoever craved its presence.
And oh, how Aurora craved.
Was it just her imagination or did the building much resemble her beloved Windmouth Lighthouse?
As if in answer, a tiny light flashed in the lighthouse tower. Just once—so fleeting one would hardly notice. Then it vanished.
Mr. Scollard, is that you? Aurora begged silently. Are you telling me all hope is not lost?
Another glimmer of light, fleeting—perfect. Aurora had her answer.
Giving unspoken thanks, she regathered her strength, called upon her faltering reserves. So long as she was surrounded by her friend, his renewing faith, there was still hope a miracle might occur.
"Have you contemplated the scenery long enough?" Guillford demanded, his fingers digging into her cheeks. "Or do you require a closer view?"
"No," she replied with apparent submission. "I don't require a closer view. You're right—I don't want to die in such a horrid manner. I'm ready to continue our walk."
"Excellent." The viscount released her, gesturing a short distance away with the barrel of the gun. "We have only to go a bit farther—to the top of this peak. The cove is around back, a carefully hidden niche in the stone."
Aurora followed his gesture, noting that their goal was indeed nearby. Flanked by two towering cliffs, the top of the peak was narrow, the space separating it from the larger peaks narrower still.
"The path is quite cramped as it rounds back," Guillford announced. "Only one of us can pass at a time. I was a bit concerned about letting you out of my sight, even for those few seconds—but my concerns were put to rest by the little talk we just had. However, heed what I said and don't do anything foolish."
"I won't."
"Good. Now move." Another hard jab of his pistol.
Raising her chin, Aurora marched onward, taking the forty or fifty paces to the top of the ridge, then flattening herself against it, easing her way around the specified curve.
For a split second she was out of Guillford's reach.
It was enough time for her miracle to occur.
A flash of movement plummeted from the cliff overhead, small stones pelting the path as a dark figure crashed down, landing precisely where Aurora had stood not an instant earlier.
She heard Lord Guillford's shout of pain and surprise, and without hesitating, she scooted back around the curve, her eyes widening as they confirmed what her heart already knew.
Julian.
Having knocked Guillford down, he was in the process of kicking aside the viscount's pistol, sending it sailing across the ground.
The Merlin had struck.
"Get the gun, Aurora," Julian yelled the instant he spied her. "Shoot him."
Reflexively Aurora complied, rushing over and scooping up the pistol, positioning herself as Julian and Guillford rolled away, pounding at each other. Jaw set, she aimed, fully intending to put a bullet straight through Guillford's heart.
The problem was, he was not only a moving target, he was entangled with the man she loved. The slightest error and she could fatally wound Julian.
She couldn't risk it. She had to wait.
The two men were a blur, a violent surge of pummeling fists and frenzied motions.
"Not this time, damn you," Guillford gasped, smashing his fist into Julian's jaw and propelling him to one side. "This time I'm going to win. This time you're going to die."
"You miserable bastard." Julian lunged for him again, slamming Guillford to his back, punching him once, twice, murder raging in his eyes. "When I think of what you intended for Aurora…" Another fervent punch.
Guillford groaned, turning his head wildly from side to side to evade the assault, then jerking upward, his forearm finding and connecting with the wound at Julian's throat.
Julian recoiled and doubled up with pain, and Guillford seized his opportunity, shoving Julian off him … sending him closer to the edge of the cliff. Then, he pounced, grabbing handfuls of Julian's shirt and dragging him toward what was obviously meant to be his death.
Aurora's warning scream froze on her lips as Julian retaliated, breaking Guillford's grip and sending him sprawling to the ground with one hard hurl.
Seeing her chance, Aurora aimed, but before she could fire, Guillford roared to life, coming to his feet and charging forward, clearly intending to thrust Julian over the edge.
Impassively Julian watched the viscount's approach, making no move to evade him—and thereby shattering whatever remained of Aurora's self-control.
"Julian!" she shrieked, terror cutting through her in rampant streaks.
It was too late. Guillford was upon him.
In a flash Julian acted, rolling directly toward Guillford, slamming the full force of his weight against the viscount's legs.
Thrown into motion, Guillford was catapulted forward. Briefly he grazed the edge of the cliff, grabbing wildly at not
hingness. Then he went over—plunging downward, his piercing scream echoing through the cliffs, gradually fading away as it was swallowed up by the rushing currents.
A heartbeat of silence.
Abruptly Julian bolted to his feet, stalking over to Aurora and dragging her into his arms. "Tell me you're all right," he commanded.
The pistol slid to the ground and Aurora nodded, gazing up at Julian as if to verify that he was indeed here, safe, as was she. "I'm fine," she managed shakily, reaching up to touch his face, to lay her palm against his jaw. "Especially now that you're holding me. Oh, Julian, I thought you were … that he had…" Two tears slid down her cheeks. "That I was about to lose you."
"You'll never lose me." A fierce light ignited her husband's eyes. "Not now—not ever." He gathered her close, pressed her head to his chest. "I love you," he proclaimed, his voice tight, his lips buried in her hair. "God, how I love you."
* * *
Chapter 15
« ^ »
They spent all that day and night at a Falmouth inn—first replenishing their bodies with food, then bathing away the dirt and horrors of the past hours, and—finally, finally—climbing into the warm, soft bed.
"This is heaven," Aurora murmured, sinking into the mattress with a grateful sigh.
"No," Julian murmured, drawing her naked body against his. "This is heaven." He caressed the delicate line of her spine, his hands gliding down to cup her bottom, lifting her against his straining manhood. "I should let you sleep," he admitted, kissing her shoulders, her neck, her throat. "But I can't. I need you. God, I almost lost you." He threaded his fingers through her hair, tugged back her head, and buried his lips in hers.
"We can sleep later." Aurora twined her arms about Julian's neck, understanding and sharing his need to reaffirm their life, their love. "Much later."
He kissed her deeply, hungrily, possessing her mouth with bone-melting thoroughness and an equal amount of tenderness. "Are you sure you're all right?" he demanded between kisses. "That son of a bitch didn't hurt you, did he?"
"No, he didn't hurt me." Aurora's palms slid to Julian's shoulders, eased him away so she could gaze directly into his eyes. "As for how I am, I'd be totally renewed if you'd repeat those three wonderful words you said to me on the cliff."
A spasm of emotion crossed Julian's face, passion temporarily supplanted by something deeper, more profound. "Gladly," he said, his voice husky with emotion. "I love you. You can't know how much. God help me, even I didn't fathom how much—until this morning." He swallowed, cradling her face between his palms. "I've been a bloody fool, telling myself I was the same man I was a month ago; that I could control how much I allowed you to permeate my existence, my heart—that I even wanted to try. The truth is, my entire life changed the minute you walked into Dawlish's that night—I changed. And I wouldn't undo that change for all the world's adventures combined."
Tears glistened on Aurora's lashes. "When did you realize you loved me?"
"Yesterday while you were sleeping in my arms in the sitting room. But I wanted to wait, to tell you when I could savor the words, savor you. Then, that bastard kidnapped you…" Julian broke off, a muscle working in his jaw. "You have no idea how terrified I was. If I hadn't found you in time…"
"But you did," she interjected softly. "Deep down, I knew you would. Although how you managed, given your wound…" Her fingertips traced the narrow bandage at his throat.
"My wound is fine," Julian assured her, capturing her hand and bringing it to his lips. "Just a bit raw. As I told you, it was only a flesh wound. It stopped bleeding minutes after you went to collect the towels. But nothing short of death would have stopped me from going after you. As for how I managed, I borrowed Rawley's mare and rode as far as St. Austell, where I changed horses."
"How could you have taken time for that and still kept on our trail?"
"I know the terrain of Cornwall, soleil." Julian kissed her wrist, his lips trailing up her forearm to the curve of her elbow. "Especially the woods and the inland hills, where one can travel by horse but not by carriage. I was actually ahead of you at one point. I also have quite a few contacts—one of whom has a stable in St. Austell. He gave me his swiftest mount and his assurance that Rawley's mare would be returned. When I realized where Guillford was dragging you, I rode on ahead, left my horse in Falmouth, and took a more direct route by foot, from Helston to the black cliffs. After that, it was only a matter of following you from the peaks above, and waiting."
"But…"
"Aurora," Julian interrupted, nuzzling the scented hollow at her throat. "We have a hundred things yet to discuss. And we will—later. But right now—" He raised his head, letting her see the naked urgency in his eyes. "—I've got to be inside you, to feel you all around me, to know you're here alive, safe in my arms. Can you understand that, soleil?"
Wordlessly Aurora nodded, drawing Julian's mouth down to hers.
He'd made to love to her countless times before, but never like this.
Solemn, intense, he worshiped every inch of her, his hands shaking as he caressed her, touched her with a reverence that obliterated all the day's ugliness and transformed it to beauty, warming their souls and heightening their passion tenfold.
Aurora's eyes slid shut, her nerve endings throbbing with excitement, clamoring for more.
Julian gave it to her—with his hands, his words, his mouth.
By the time he entered her, Aurora was frantic, her body on fire, her breath coming in wild, broken pants. "Please," she whispered, tugging at his shoulders. "Julian, please…"
"No earthly force could stop me," he rasped, his knees pressing her thighs wide apart.
Cupping her face between his hands, he crowded into her, letting her feel every glorious sensation as their bodies melded into one. "Aurora—look at me," he commanded, waiting until she'd complied before beginning the deep, slow rhythm she craved, rolling his hips in a way that drove him deeper, higher inside her each time. "Now tell me you love me."
Aurora was already unraveling, her legs tightly hugging Julian's flanks. "Oh, Julian—I love you."
His entire body shuddered at her words, sweat breaking out on his forehead. But he battled back his climax, refusing to let this moment end, refusing to tear his gaze from hers. "And I love you," he declared hoarsely. "My heart is yours, soleil. Always." He pushed into her, sealing his vow with the exquisite utter possession of her body.
A harsh cry escaped Aurora's lips, the pleasure too acute to bear. "Oh, God … Julian." Her body clenched frantically around his.
"Yes." He could barely speak. "Just like that—yes." He drove into her again, then again, his urgency splintering his control into fragments of nothingness.
"Don't stop."
"I won't … I can't…"
"Julian…"
"Yes, soleil—" He thrust forward one last time and held himself there, jaw clenched against the vortex of sensation that was peaking inside him, pounding through them both.
"Julian!" Aurora screamed and shattered. Clinging to her husband, she dissolved into wrenching spasms of completion, feeling his answering tremor, the urgent swelling of his body inside hers.
With a feral shout Julian erupted, shuddering convulsively as he poured himself into her, the force of his release sending him surging forward again and again until he'd given her all of himself.
With a choked sound of awe, he collapsed, blanketing her with his weight, tremors of reaction still coursing through him. "My God—I want to give you the world," he managed, wonder lacing his tone.
As awed as he, Aurora caressed the bunched muscles of his shoulders, the damp planes of his back. "You already have," she whispered. "You've given me you. Oh, Julian, I knew you felt as I did. But I needed you to know it—and to say it."
"I know it to the depths of my soul. As for saying it…" Julian rose up but made no move to lift himself away, somehow needing to entwine the life-altering words around the magic they'd just made with their bodies.
"I love you, Aurora Bencroft. I have from the moment you walked into Dawlish's. I will until the sun grows cold."
Aurora smiled through her tears. "I'll offer you a lifetime of passion, excitement and adventure—I promise."
"That I don't even question, much less doubt. In fact, I'm so certain your fire and spirit will pervade my life that I've made a decision. My days of solitary adventuring are over."
Her eyes widened. "Do you mean that?"
"I do." He rubbed one silky tress between his fingers. "You, my love, are all the excitement I can handle. From now on, all our ventures will be embarked upon together—beginning with that extensive wedding trip I promised you. We'll be sailing off as soon as this mystery is behind us. And rest assured, the voyage I've planned will astound even you."